Can we afford to be cynical about academic life?

When I began my investigations into what drives academics, I armed myself with the most powerful critical arsenal I knew: ideology critique. Marcuse’s One Dimensional Man was a particularly sharp-looking cutlass which I was sure would puncture the heart of the expropriation, exploitation, and general unfairness that many claimed characterised academic labour relations. The growth of casual and short-term contract labour, the use of PhD students to turn the cogs of teaching and assessment, the growth of ‘voluntary’ redundancies within the sector: stones to sharpen a Marxist blade.

Thankfully, the naivety wore off: I questioned my epistemology, read more broadly, and generally stopped dressing like a war veteran or prophet of the apocalypse. I don’t mean to imply that all cultural critique is a fashion, but when it is, oh, do we look back cringing… With my method challenged and my coat a less depressing shade, I began to ask more interesting and concerning questions: Not ‘why?’, but ‘how?’ Not ‘who?’, but ‘when?’ How do universities seek to regulate the activities of academics? When do academics comply? When do they resist? Michel Foucault and Bruno Latour had been particularly useful in assisting my thinking here. However, despite the near wholesale abandonment of my Marxesque aims, a certain degree of cynicism remained. It emanated from zombie issues of casualisation, labour market issues and the persistent complaints and critiques of colleagues. These zombies are not problematic in themselves, but when the cynical attitudes which surround them become contagious, the infestation is no longer containable. It becomes a template for approaching other academic-university relations. Let’s take the example of Performance Development.

Performance Development is generally a program of audit: a recording device for measuring and storing information about the research, teaching and service outputs produced by academics. These recordings are then able to be used by academics to demonstrate their cases for promotion or pay increases, for applications towards new jobs, or to defend their work contracts if placed under threat of redundancy. Many scholars have complained (perhaps rightly so) that Performance Development is little more than an auditing device for the bureaucracy – a tool which universities use to keep a track of their academics and a source of data which can be used to back up decisions about who to hire, fire or promote. What counts as ‘performance’ is defined by the university, within the Performance Development program. This makes it difficult for unorthodox research to be recognised by universities (especially those that do not consider publishing scholarly journals as a key good of the research process, such as research which aims to engage communities outside of academia). Teaching is often narrowly evaluated in terms of student numbers, student feedback assessments and post-education employability rates. The cynicism that this process generates is not without a few endogenous origins. However, to reduce Performance Development to a bureaucratic device risks overlooking the inventiveness and ingenuity of the individuals and systems that engage it. If overindulged, cynicism can become a straight-jacket for the mind.

Consider a letter I received from a journal editor. This editor was excited to read that I had been considering the role that Performance Development plays in guiding academics in their work. However, they were not impressed with the direction that my argument had taken. They would review a revised version of my article that “more forcefully, directly, and specifically criticized the performance development process” and gave some suggestions about how the system could be configured to allow staff more freedom to define their own terms of ‘success’. My initial reaction was modest embarrassment: How could I have missed this criticism?! Of course this process was a pernicious nuisance! Thankfully, I was prevented from redrafting and submitting a revised article in a timely manner, as my thinking on Performance Development changed radically.

Given some distance from the article I drafted, some reflection on the direction of my project and on the ambitions and goals of academics working in their disciplines (thanks to some PhD field research), I had another idea. Why were academics engaging in these practices (of self-reporting, evaluation and judgement), if it was detrimental to achieving their goals? Ideology could not be the answer: everyone seems well aware of the ‘problems’ associated with Performance Development as a management tool. My focus shifted: Not ‘why do academics engage in Performance Development?’ but ‘how are academics encouraged to engage?’ Some of my answers surprised me. Performance Development is required by many universities as evidence for demonstrating competence for promotion, salary progression or employment, but also perhaps for career planning. Depending on how the Performance Development process is managed, self-accounting and planning can be a useful tool for younger academics to orient their actions and have frank and honest discussions with senior staff about their career planning. More than just a bureaucratic auditing device, a conversation (which extends beyond yearly reviews) is invaluable for the mentorship of younger academic staff, who may often rely on imitating their supervisors and mentors to learn the academic game.

In order to better our present systems of academic governance, imagination is wanting where cynicism blooms. In order to imagine how our present arrangements (such as Performance Development) might be enhanced or modified to produce benefits for both academics and institutions, we must allow space for creative explorations. For speculation. For comparison and conjecture. And also for feedback. We can begin by imagining apparatuses such as Performance Development as conduits through which individuals, data, intentions and action are configured and flow: as points of definition and negotiation (or, to use the STS jargon, as assemblages). The strength of this perspective is in being able to see beyond a binary of agent-object (i.e. management-worker), and towards a more flexible platform where interests are understood as functions of the system in which they operate. Academics engage in Performance Development because that engagement is beneficial in some way; they complain because it can also be a burden. The point is not to advocate the demolition of the whole conduit, but to redirect the flow in a more useful direction. And if the stream cannot be cleaned of the aforementioned cynical contagion, then perhaps regular treatments of imagination will make the water worth swallowing.

 

(On a side note, I am genuinely curious how early-career academics get a feel for the academic game. Do you seek out advice from colleagues? Do you test out strategies used by your supervisor? Are you panicking that you might be forgetting something? Feel free to comment.)

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5 thoughts on “Can we afford to be cynical about academic life?

  1. Ashlin says:

    Correct me if I’m wrong in my analysis, but I understand your commentary to reflect the traditional criticism of Marxism: the myth of duped and submissive worker, the abstraction of all personal contexts as another facet of class struggle, the downplaying of agency, and a lack of a concern for culture.

    Now if this Marxist orientated criticism is the cynicism you advocate rejecting, then I’m afraid I must disagree with you. I think cynicism (if we are on the same page) is a vital and cherished component that we as academic should hold. I believe this especially true given the innately paradoxical nature of academic work.

    In few other industries do you find a group of highly skilled employees, who for the most part apply enormous critical ability to various social issue and problems. Especially for sociology these are often generally ‘progressive’ in nature. Yet their wages are paid, and they exist within, perhaps what is one of the largest examples of everything they fight against: a bloated and managerial entity that seeks to ‘sell’ the product of education for profit.

    Case in point. Social sciences (even economics) has been championing the fight against inequality. Yet the leaders of academe represents the latest generation of ‘fat cats’, products and beneficiaries of an innately non-equitable capitalist system we academics are building! See http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/mar/03/new-breed-fat-cats-university-boss-vice-chancellors for my reference here.

    I completely understand and agree with the need to step beyond Marxism for that qualitative and ethnographic look at individual actants in a system. But I’d argue that we need to also remember the broader network and the power dynamic they exist it. If it involves capitalism, then Marx, and cynicism, are required in my opinion.

    Best

    Ashlin

    • I didn’t mean to imply that Marxist analysis was cynical. Rather, the actual working conditions that many academics experience seem to lend to cynical thinking and an emphasis on approaches to researching universities which overlook agency.

      Certainly, one of the great advantages of Marx’s analysis of capitalism is that it offers a structural approach to analyzing a large set of power relationships. My criticism of Marxist research here is more one of scale: there are power relations that operate at the micro and meso-level, for which structuralist approaches struggle to offer useful prescriptions for action. Performance development is a case to the point – we can actively recraft this micro technology of power to be useful for early-career academics, although it probably won’t have an impact on the larger-scale power dynamic.

      I don’t advocate the wholesale rejection of Marxist analysis. Rather, what I advocate is further exploration into possibilities for influencing micro-power. To muddle techniques, to consider additional uses of technologies we think we know the ‘purpose’ of, and to not let our narratives of ‘neoliberalism’ halt our imaginations. For the most part, academics are already the perfect subjects of neoliberal management. The question is: Is this an inevitable outcome for a subject under capitalism, or is it an opportunity to explore possibilities?

  2. I really liked this – a good strong critique on something I can only predict will become increasingly problematic for ECRs…and also later career academics. An acquaintance has a father who is a Professor yet he cannot get more than sessional gigs because he rejects the ‘publish or perish’ prerogative. He is a seasoned academic working at TAFEs, lower tier universities and even short term for banks in an effort to fund his retirement. I don’t believe this is how academia should treat experienced individuals. It seems harsh to discredit one’s professional experience over something as dubious as publication credits…especially in economics, which he thinks has been one of the last social sciences to see this development unfold in.
    It does depend on how well-equipped one is to deal with self-responsibilisation…I feel I will not have too many issues but I can see that some others will. And adjunct to this, I can see some ECRs that fit neatly into teaching or research dichotomies…but desire to straddle the divide; or perhaps to be defined as only a teacher/lecturer or perhaps as only a researcher. This fragmentation in a job role is not uncommon in contemporary definitions but such fragmentation neglects to consider the human subjects that struggle for their self-definitions and narratives on a daily basis.

  3. Lol! I think you might be on to something. I’ve been far too focused on thesis work and other projects at the moment. I feel another blog post coming soon. Oh, also I’m on Twitter as of today. @fabiancann

    :)

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