Many of us like to think the University of Otago we knew many years ago is still recognisable as largely the same institution. People change, papers change, even departments change their names and status, but the character of the institution remains unchanged. And yet this may be no more than an illusion. Otago is much larger than 30 years ago; its campus and buildings are more attractive and welcoming. But is it becoming unrecognisable in some fundamental ways?
A recent piece in Times Higher Education, based on a New Zealand study, pointed out Australasian universities are global outliers in that they employ more higher education professionals than academics.
In New Zealand universities, administrative workers comprise 59% of employees, compared with 55% in Australian universities and about 45% in the United Kingdom and United States.
Despite this, UK and US universities employ considerably more administrators on a per-student basis. It is far from clear why there should be these discrepancies.
This is certainly not an argument that universities would perform better without managers and administrators at all levels. Of course, they need managers, since they are highly complex institutions.
However, what is the major role of managers? Is it to better equip academic and allied staff for the teaching and research functions they are employed to carry out? Or is it to ensure that the university is run as a business, with academic staff contributing to the interests of the business, just as they would if working in an office or factory? I hope it has elements of both, but this is challenging.
Over the past 30 years there has been a drift towards managerialism, with its increasing burden of bureaucracy.
Inherent within this trend has been increasing centralisation, with increasing control from the top and a weakening of community at the local levels.
An unfortunate outcome of these movements has been a growing lack of trust between those in authority and those functioning at the coal face.
This is not a phenomenon unique to Otago, although Otago has certainly been caught up in this frenzied path, that has accentuated over the past 10 years. There are undoubtedly a multitude of reasons for this transformation, both externally and internally generated.
The reality is that in New Zealand there is a relatively modest number of academics to teach students, supported by decreasing numbers of technical staff. It is hardly surprising that they are deflated as the numbers of executive staff appear to increase.
The situation in Otago has been accentuated by the financial tsunami, with its threat of decreasing even further the number of academic staff alongside a desire to increase the numbers of students.
Repeated rounds of cost cutting, no matter how justified they may be, undermine universities as centres of scholarly excellence. This is undoubtedly not the intention of the leadership, and yet the resulting tension between achieving financial stability on the one hand, and academic excellence in both research and teaching on the other, can be overwhelming. To an outsider this tension appears unresolvable, especially when the university seeks to uphold and even strengthen its international reputation.
It is imperative that this tension is acknowledged and brought into the open, since it influences every aspect of the university and its culture. There is no escape from the drive towards managerial efficiency, and its effects on collegiality.
The former is the domain of managers and the latter the domain of academics and support staff. The task of holding these two together in productive synergy is an immense undertaking, particularly when there is too little money to go round.
The last thing one wants to see is a tug of war between achieving financial health at the expense of the welfare of academic staff and the whole academic enterprise. There have already been indications that this is occurring with award-winning staff being laid off.
This suggests money has become the determinant factor in decision-making, and that enterprise and initiative are no longer celebrated as much as was once the case.
None of these comments is meant to detract from the pressure to rectify a serious financial problem. But it is a warning that short-term measures could have serious long-term repercussions. Once staff see themselves as being expendable, and that a glowing international academic reputation will not protect them from dismissal, they and others will conclude the university’s outlook and priorities have changed beyond recognition.
However, this is not the way the leadership sees the university, as expressed in the Strategic Plan to 2030 — Pae Tata.
The goal is to set out an "ambitious change agenda needed to create the highest quality student experiences and produce impactful research".
Among the priorities listed is to better focus research into areas of strength and support the areas of research focus. Other priorities are to support staff to succeed and grow, so students can thrive.
These are commendable priorities, but to what degree are they being used to direct the management of change processes being undertaken? Are staff being appropriately supported at present, or are financial imperatives overriding everything?
— Gareth Jones is an emeritus professor of anatomy at the University of Otago.
