So, you want to be a university?
A short essay on loyalty

Denne teksten er et debatt­inn­legg. Inn­holdet i teksten uttrykker forfatterens egen mening.

I consider myself lucky to have earned my first degree at a small liberal arts college in the United States, where student knowledge and the development of independent thinking were valued above all else. But much has changed in academia since I began studying in the 90s. 

Over the last two decades we have seen a shift in the operational practices of academic institutions. For a host of complex reasons, the board members of many universities have felt obliged to adopt and apply business-oriented concepts, structures, and practices to ensure that their institutions continue to operate in the black. The consequence of this trend is the emergence of a pattern of business-oriented decision-making practices — which has led to a fundamental restructuring of many academic institutions — and rapid movement toward what can only be termed a «corporate culture.»

arealbruk

— Æsj, bøker! Kan føre til selvstendig tenking og det som verre er

One of the more disturbing consequences of the corporatization tendency is the philosophical divide that it has created between administrators — who are themselves increasingly bound by the business-centered approaches of board members — and faculty members — who tend to emphasize the profession’s vital contributions to society over everything else.

This conflict of ideals is playing out everywhere, of course; but after fifteen years in this profession, working in three different countries, I have never seen the philosophical divide displayed so starkly as I have at HVL. Recent articles in Khrono about private offices bear witness only to the tip of the iceberg. I will not get into too many details here, as there are many faculty members at HVL who have more familiarity with administrative mechanisms and the conversations that happen behind closed doors than me.

HVL

Skal evaluera livet i «öppna landskap» på Vestlandet

Speaking anecdotally, however, it can be argued that many of the instructions that we have received from our leaders communicate a consistent set of beliefs about the importance of loyalty to our employer. Among these beliefs is an expectation that employees should avoid criticizing the institution publicly. In recent years, for example, faculty members have been instructed to avoid discussing HVL’s lack of adequate private office space in public, since doing so portrays the university in a negative light. Additional efforts have been made to ensure that faculty members never criticize the governance of the institution before students.

It is the opinion of many of my colleagues that the more problematic directives that have come down from our leaders actively promote a corporate (and undemocratic) view that employee loyalty must be to the company first. We believe that this view exists in direct conflict with historical understandings about the critical importance of academic freedom for the intellectual health of a university. Unfortunately, many of my colleagues at HVL do not believe that they can speak publicly about this issue without fear of reprisal.

Loyalty is a concept often mentioned as an ideal in both professional and non-professional circles. Problematically, what one means can vary greatly, depending on the underlying principles and goals of the speaker. For example, what does it mean for an academic to be loyal to a university?

Most people understand that successful cooperation requires a broad commitment to common goals. We understand that cooperation sometimes means that individuals will need to prioritize common aims over personal desires. Lastly, we also understand that individual commitment and loyalty to the efforts and sacrifices of cooperation are conditional, depending on the premise that together we share an understanding of the common goal.

In Norway, we agree to the premise that providing a quality education to everyone is an investment in the common good. I would argue that no one understands individual commitment, sacrifice, and loyalty to the goal of providing that education better than university faculty members. But should we, as academic employees, be loyal to an institution? If so, how should we define that loyalty? Do the boundaries of loyalty change when faculty members are no longer regarded as decision-makers with a stake in the common project? Are faculty members free to criticize the decisions of our leaders publicly, for example, when those decisions conflict with the values and goals of education and academic research? These are the questions on many minds at HVL.

These questions have crossed the minds of intellectuals before us as well. Our understanding of the modern academic institution takes shape in the 18th century. In fact, we can look back to singularly important events in the construction of the modern idea of the university. One such event is the publication of Immanuel Kant’s essay «Was ist Aufklärung?» (1784).

Kant argues that one of the primary requirements for the enlightenment of human society is the «freedom to use reason publicly in all matters.» Explaining his claim, Kant draws an influential distinction between what he calls the ‘private use of reason,’ and the ‘public use of reason.’ Kant’s basic claim is that the ‘private use of reason’ describes an individual’s restricted rights to speak or criticize. Kant’s examples for individuals who are limited by the duties of their offices are politicians, soldiers, and priests, all of whom act and speak in official positions as representatives of institutions with established laws. A priest, for example, cannot stand before his congregation and criticize an established point of orthodoxy.

The ‘public use of reason,’ on the other hand, describes an unrestricted freedom to speak and criticize. Kant associates the free use of public reason with the academic, or scholar, who «makes use of reason before the entire literate world» for the betterment of society.

Kant points out, however, that even officials, like priests and politicians, can speak freely when they assume the role of a scholar.

In making this important allowance, Kant helps to establish the fundamental nature of academic freedom for modern, democratic societies — the premise that faculty members, as representatives of a university, can and should speak freely as scholars through public, academic discourse. Most importantly, Kant describes this scholarly freedom as a requirement for enlightenment — since without it there is no mechanism for critique available to the governed. It is this idea of scholarly freedom that defines what a modern university is supposed to be.

In a very real way, academics believe that we are the last line of defense in the protection of a free society. This has been our function for the last two centuries. Without the unrestricted freedom to use our reason, especially to criticize the institutions to which we are supposed to be loyal, we cannot rightly be categorized as scholars in the fullest sense.

So, what are the problems created by defining the relationship between university and academic faculty as one of unquestioned loyalty? Loyalty is, after all, an essential value for all cooperation. As I have tried to argue in this condensed format, most of our disagreements are not about the importance of loyalty, but are rather disputes over the question: «Loyalty to what?»

One typically does not enter this profession without an overriding sense of loyalty to the goal of improving society through research and education. The conflict arises when an institution, with whom we are supposed to be united in commitment to this goal, begins asking faculty to act in ways that oppose that goal, while maintaining complete loyalty to the dictates and structures of the institution instead. As Kant complains: «Do not argue!» Obey. Be loyal to the institution that pays your salary. Forget about your commitment to society. Build the ‘brand.’

Historically, this is not how a university is supposed to function. In the west, we have tended to agree to the principle that our democratic values depend on the unrestricted freedom of scholarly discourse. This means that our loyalty to the institution is a contingent disposition. As long as we are united in our commitment to society, we act as one. Loyalty to the institution is thus a secondary commitment that serves a primary commitment to society. As scholars in a democratic country, we must therefore lay claim to our historical right to criticize our institutions when they err.

By most accounts, Høgskulen på Vestlandet will submit its application for university status in the fall of 2023. This application is, as many know, the terminal point of a multi-year growth and development process, and a question of prestige and status. So I ask: «Do you want to be a university?» Or do you want to be a corporation with a university name?