A week where the full
de-democratisation of Higher Education governance came sharply into focus for
me after I watched the brilliant movie Death
of Stalin, in which a cabal of unaccountable fellow oligarchs battle it out
over control of the Politburo.
Management at our universities often takes no account of what even its most senior academic staff advise, even when
they do it in unison. When challenged, as one was challenged by me this week, these unelected ‘leaders’ even admit it, implying that it is fine for them to take (usually ill-informed) unilateral decisions with
far-reaching implications.
What I do not understand is why Senior
Leadership Teams and SManagementTs (unaffectionately known as Sluts and Smuts) bother
going through the motions of consultation. It is a sign of the times that I fear to say
more because I want to keep my job for a few more years.
 |
"Choice of Hercules", Adam Room, Grove House, Roehampton |
I often feel guilty that in the 1990s,
along with many other academics who might now be in positions of institutional
power, I decided against climbing the management pole. I preferred to concentrate
on the real business of university life: teaching, research, and communicating with the public. But that was before
any of us realised that we were about to be annexed by a new professional
Management Class who regard our views as worthless and our consultative
procedures a Jurassic inheritance completely at odds with their
commercialised concept of education and intellectual labour.
 |
"Hercules and the Hydra", Joseph Kirsch, 1937 |
I also heard this week from an excellent
middle-aged classicist at an English university, a man for whom I write
references, that he and one other lecturer have been made redundant as of 30th June 2018. This would be bad enough at the best of times, but in this case he
had only recently signed a contract for a full-time continuing post. He had
given up some other non-recoverable lucrative teaching contracts in order to
accept it. Some administrative cock-up at Management level meant that the financial implications of
the appointment were realised in the local Kremlin far too late, and so two
individuals’ futures have been abruptly and arbitrarily sacrificed.
I may not be hearing the sound of
physical corpses being kicked down the back stairs by the KGB. But the movie
seems painfully relevant, and not only to the Tory Cabinet.
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