If we focus specifically on the university/tertiary sector, an individual academic’s career satisfaction will depend on how the ‘holy trinity’ of academic work – research, teaching, and administration1 – is reconciled in practice in their own role. Personal preferences also play a part – some prefer research, others prefer teaching, some like an even mix of both. Most would seek to minimise their administrative commitments as far as possible.
On top of these tasks, the expectations of the modern academic have mushroomed considerably. In many parts of the world, changing university funding structures have meant that in order to carry out their core research function, many academics have to participate in time-consuming, opaque and highly competitive funding application processes. There is further pressure to develop into a ‘star’ academic, publishing great quantities of material, at great speed. This ‘achievement’ can then be used by the university to compete for government funding, as well as for marketing purposes. ‘Star’ academics are then under even more pressure to participate in wider university and other high-profile events, in order to woo potential donors to contribute to the university’s core mission – to fund a new building, perhaps, or a research centre, or a new tranche of scholarships. Plenty of real-life academics have spoken out about the damaging and counterproductive effects of market economics and managerialism as applied within the tertiary sector.2
In addition, the soaring cost of tuition fees encourages students to view their education as just another consumer product, or a necessary ticket-to-entry to fulfil a particular job desire – rather than the valuable personal and intellectual development opportunity it actually is. With this shift in perception, student expectations – of themselves, of academics, and of universities – radically transform. No longer do students see themselves as learners in the process of mastering a body of knowledge under the tutelage of experts in the field, within an environment dedicated precisely to this purpose. Instead, they are customers, with customer service-like expectations of knowledge ‘delivery’ and recourse against the institution, should their expectations not be met.
As in other lines of work, technology has also had an impact. Keeping on top of regular changes and/or updates of software systems, websites, file directories, email etc via training sessions is now yet another expectation of the academic. Generally speaking, these sessions are meant to take place in the academic’s ‘free time’ – ie they are not counted towards one’s research, teaching and administrative responsibilities. Nevertheless, in many universities, being able to navigate these systems proficiently is a central prerequisite for being able to do the actual work.
Having said all this, even today, there are times in academic life which bring tremendous contentment. The lightbulb moment when a student demonstrates they have grasped – at last – something with which they were struggling. Running into a former student who reminds you of a lesson you taught, long ago, which they still remember and value today. Working together with bright, dedicated thesis supervisees, and exchanging ideas with them – the result being intellectual growth on both sides. Discussing concepts, theories, ideas and practices with those who share your research interests – in an effort to create new ways of seeing, understanding, and investigating the world. Receiving useful feedback from anonymous colleagues who really understand, and appreciate, what your written work is about – and having a laugh at the ones who don’t. Producing this blog, in an effort to reclaim a corner of the internet for incisive, non-monetised analysis of current affairs, with a view to elevating public discourse, nudging the university back towards one of its key, traditional functions, and boosting democracy.
Taken together, all of these elements give a flavour of what academic life is really like.
1Sometimes a fourth category of academic work is added: service. However, I do not follow this typology here. In reality, most academic ‘service’ activities could be categorised under ‘administration’. In addition, having a separate category for ‘service’ also implies that the other three categories are somehow not ‘service’, and that academics are required to seek out, and perform, extra ‘service’ activities. Yet anyone with experience of academic employment knows that researching, teaching and completing administration tasks to a consistently high standard is already plenty to be getting on with – and achieving this counts as the best form of ‘service’ one could possibly contribute.
2See for instance Decca Aitkenhead, ‘Peter Higgs: I Wouldn’t Be Productive Enough for Today’s Academic System’ The Guardian 6 December 2013 https://www.theguardian.com/science/2013/dec/06/peter-higgs-boson-academic-system ; David Colquhoun, ‘Publish and Perish at Imperial College London: the Death of Stefan Grimm’ 1 December 2014 www.dcscience.net/2014/12/01/publish-and-perish-at-imperial-college-london-the-death-of-stefan-grimm ; Peter Fleming, Dark Academia: How Universities Die (Pluto Press, 2021); Maggie Berg and Barbara K Seeber, The Slow Professor: Challenging the Culture of Speed in the Academy (University of Toronto Press, 2016);and Anonymous, The Secret Lecturer (Australian Scholarly Publishing, 2016).
For the reasons elaborated above – and more besides – certain academics have taken to discouraging all students from pursuing academic careers. In effect, these academics have surrendered already: they lament the market-focussed corporatisation taking place in the tertiary sector, but see themselves as only passive bystanders of this process, without agency or influence. They accept the meek notion that they are part of a dying breed, and on that basis, they think they are helping, or being kind to, their students by telling the latter not to make the same choices they did.
Such academics are not worthy of the role. They are not only doing a huge disservice to their students, but they are also actively promoting ‘brain drain’ away from the future pool of applicants for academic jobs, towards other sectors. Simply because these academics lack the imagination, intelligence, knowledge, interest, drive and/or ability to develop an alternative to current university models, they assume the same of others. At a time when universities need access to as many bright and engaged people as possible to find improved ways of operating, discouraging capable students from pursuing this path is unforgivable.3 These academics would do well to heed the words of General George S Patton:
Lead me, follow me, or get out of [the] way 4
There are a thousand reasons not to pursue a career in academia. However, if you derive great satisfaction and meaning from teaching, the research process – and despite the present challenges faced by the tertiary sector, you cannot imagine any other job in which you would be happier – then GO FOR IT. WE NEED YOU!
3Of course, there is a big difference between discouraging all students from an academic career and discouraging those individuals who, based on the academic’s assessment, are simply not capable of pursuing one successfully. In the latter case, it may well be a kindness to encourage the student in another direction. Alternatively, the academic might be wrong, and this wrong assessment might spur the student on to work even harder, leading to a successful academic career. The real world can be a funny place.
4In the original quote, [the] is replaced with ‘my’. Quote republished in Kelly Nickell, Pocket Patriot: Quotes from American Heroes (Writers’ Digest, 2005), p157.