Higher education is a hard thing to generalize about. Superficially, universities look the same the world over, but scratch beneath the surface a little and you’ll see that there are enormous differences in structures, policies, and cultures.
Nevertheless, it’s still pretty safe to say that over the last 40 years (in some countries longer) three major trends have emerged more or less the world over: first, in every country, there has been pressure to expand systems and accommodate greater participation in various ways. Second, there has been pressure on universities to produce more research in a bid to make countries more innovative/productive/modern/rich/whatever. And third, there has been a gradual push to alter institutional governance structures to strengthen institutional managers and to shift the notion of universities from being vaguely-connected Places Where Academic and Scholarly Stuff Happens (PWASSH) to a notion of universities function as corporate entities with independent entities and internally consistent goals and missions.
That third trend, to my mind, doesn’t get enough serious attention (although if you’re interested, I can recommend International Trends in University Governance: Autonomy, Self-Government and the Distribution of Authority, a recent book of essays edited by Michael Shattock.) Sure, everyone talks about “growing administration” – either in the context of some irritating form they have to fill out or in some conspiratorial tones involving words like “hegemony”, “neoliberalism” and the like. But when we look closely at changes to governance, we see that two things are happening. Firstly, higher education systems are converging on governance systems which privilege managers over the academic oligarchy (to use Burton Clark’s famous term). Secondly, and maybe more importantly, institutions are functioning as single integrated units rather than as loosely-coupled organizations consisting mostly of independent self-governing academic units based on discipline (or, in Robert Hutchins’ phrase, “a collection of departments united by a common steam plant”). These deep and structural changes should make us question simple explanations.
To really understand the nature of governance changes, it’s worth going back to what universities looked like around WWII. Largely, they weren’t up to much. Though some of them engaged in research, they were mostly teaching institutions for a relatively privileged minority. Governments didn’t give them a lot of money, and in consequence didn’t demand a lot of accountability. In such circumstances, it was easy enough for the Academic Oligarchy to win and keep control of universities and run them in the loosely-coupled manner which suited them. Academic and Scholarly Stuff Happened. But the institutions were more or less at the service of the disciplines and individual academics; they did not possess an identity independent of the Oligarchy.
But then three things happened. Costs rose due to increasing participation. Research became more pressing and had to be paid for. And the governments trying to work out how to pay for all this increasingly urgent public business, which was taking place in institutions outside government, had to make sure the job was getting done at a reasonable cost.
Now governments around the world chose quite different paths to deal with these issues. Some – particularly the Americans, Brits and Australians, chose to pursue what some call “marketization”: let institutions go out and attract whatever they could. Others – most of continental Europe, for instance – chose to keep funding as near to 100% public as possible, but at the same time engage in what some call “New Public Management”: that is, turning to various management techniques (mostly quasi-market) to look for value and efficiency. And here’s the crucial bit: regardless of which route countries chose to finance higher education modernization, the result seems to have been a stronger emphasis on the central administration of universities.
The point here I think is this: regardless of whether you think universities’ “clients” are students, or governments, or business, or whoever, the point is that all of these clients find it a hell of a lot more efficient to deal with one well-resourced corporate entity rather than dozens of disciplinary groupuscules. But in turn, for institutions to be able to deliver on commitments to all these various clients, it can’t simply be scaffolding for hundreds of individual and departmental research and teaching agendas. It must project an image of being a single, unified entity. In short, at the very least it can’t look like a loosely-coupled entity and survive in a modern era. Part of this looking like a single entity is down to having certain central control functions, such as control of budget, tenure lines, research priorities, etc. Another is about centralized communication and speaking with one voice: one brand, one strategy, one set of messages, etc. All of this creates an image of being a single entity with a single set of corporate goals.
But here’s the big secret of modern universities, the world over. The disciplines, the Oligarchy, the PWASSH, whatever you want to call it – hasn’t disappeared, not in most places. It’s not even necessarily in retreat. It just looks like it has been replaced. Partly, that’s down to people inside institutions fighting rearguard actions against central power in institutions. But at least as often, it’s by design. Inside institutions, all sorts of tacit deals get made which allow the institution to present itself to the outside world as if it were one institution with a single set of unified goals, but which actually leaves the decentralized, loosely coupled underpinnings beneath virtually unchanged. In many ways, academic governance today is a delicate balancing act between the management of institutions and the interests of the PWASSH.
The best universities are the ones who can pull off this balancing act with aplomb. In fact, I might go further and say if you can’t pull off this balancing act properly, you will never join the ranks of great universities. And of you find the balancing act and its inherent deceptions distasteful, just keep in mind that it’s not a neoliberal plot, and it’s not a powerplay by power-hungry admins: it’s just the price the system has to pay for trying to keep in play the values of a much smaller and cozier system while extracting tens or hundreds of billions of dollars from the public that it needs to operate at scale.
I’d believe you, but the most prestigious institutions seem to have the strongest commitment to being a PWASSH, and the least show of being unified and corporate. It’s not like everybody’s fleeing Oxford, and it doesn’t pretend to have been taken over by its steam plant.
I agree that the movement towards greater administration isn’t a conspiracy, but it isn’t inevitable, either. Universities could promote themselves as places where curiosity-driven learning thrives, instead of talking about some vague “student experience.” To champion openness, they could fund university presses to bring scholarly publishing back in-house. They could choose leaders prepared to argue eloquently to government that they can have a centrally-organized corporation or a place of scholarship and science, but not both.
BTW, is it a coincidence that the acronym PWASSH looks a lot like PWIAS?
I agree completely with your assessment of the three trends, and will comment specifically on the third. And I do so having served as an academic administrator for 22 years at three universities (U. of Victoria, Queen’s, Carleton), in addition to 16 years as a regular full-time faculty member. Since beginning my first academic job in 1979, university administration has grown dramatically … and not necessarily because universities themselves have seen this as desirable. Various factors have contributed to this, including the pressure for research grants (leading to offices designed to assist faculty with the preparation and submission of grants). In the early 1970s some universities, including the one I attended, had no vice-presidents. Now there is a small army of VPs, AVPs, etc., with offices and staffs to match. The largest single factor leading to this growth has been the change in government accountability and public perception. Universities now have to submit large amounts of data, and hence have to set up offices to collect and compile that data. And the largest growth in recent years in Ontario has been in the Quality Assurance process, controlled by the government but with the work and expense downloaded to individual institutions, which has added an entire new level of bureaucracy while simultaneously making us very much less nimble. Institutions are also now seen as responsible for a broad variety of activities and processes unrelated to their core mission, none of which existed when I was a student, and all requiring substantial infrastructure on campus. These include academic and career counselling, mental health, harassment and human rights offices, sexual assault offices, industry liaison offices, etc. I am not saying that these developments are wrong, or their services unnecessary, but they are taking place at a time when government financial support is declining, and tuition fees increasingly regulated, leading to the need to shift teaching increasingly to part-time contingent faculty … for purely financial reasons and regardless of the effect. But let’s be clear: no senior administrator that i have met thinks this is a good development. It has been forced on them by financial necessity. This has led me to Osborne’s law: government intervention is inversely proportionate to their financial contribution. It is also true that our understanding of who or what is the university has shifted. In its origins, the university was the body of its faculty and students (universitas societas magistrorum discipulorumque); but now ‘ownership’ seems increasingly invested in the senior administration and Boards of Governors, with faculty reduced to just one of a number of employee groups. (Yes, faculty have been all too complicit in effecting this shift, but that’s another story.)
Where we will disagree, Alex, is in your suggestion that this is just a smoke-screen, and that nothing really has changed. Believe me, it has. Most senior administrations now make broad strategic decisions without much real consultation. And they also micro-manage excessively, including telling large and successful departments what specializations they should be pursuing. (I can provide specific examples.) Power may still be distributed to some extent, but we have moved from a model in which it generally flowed from the bottom upwards … with the role of the administration to put into effect the wishes of the faculty, whom they served … to one that is almost exclusively top downwards, with administrators telling faculty what they should or should not teach (based on market surveys, etc.) and to how many students. Yes we need fiscal responsibility, but not the interference that has accompanied that. As I used to say to my chairs and directors, what we want most from our senior administration is benign neglect. Let us make out own decisions, on the basis of the income that we generate. By all means provide oversight, but let us manage our own affairs. As they said in Québec a generation ago, ‘On veut un pays!’.