The Paradox of the Small Liberal
Arts
& Sciences University:
Between Teaching and Publishing
John D. Wingard
Anthropology
Presented at the
Faculty Retreat Program
January, 28, 2003
Forms of Knowledge and Pedagogy
and the Future of Liberal Arts at
SSU
Between Teaching and Publishing
Publish
or teach?Both of course, but how
much of each?We know that research,
which leads to publications, and the process of writing papers for publication
all enhance our teaching.One of
the things that students respond to most enthusiastically in the classroom
is when the instructor is able to link his or her own experiences into
the discussion topic.
Less
discussed, but also true, is that teaching benefits research.In
preparing lectures and talking to students, we are often forced to strip
down our high-minded ideas into consumable bits.In
the process, trees that had gotten lost in the forest suddenly reappear
in a new light.Also, students often
ask questions about our research, that sometimes in their seeming naivete,
force us to reconsider our ideas in new ways.
Here
lies the paradox.We all recognize
the mutual relationship between teaching, research, and publishing.Despite
their complementarity, however, they also compete for the same scarce resource:
time.Writing grant proposals takes
time, conducting research takes time, writing papers for publication, preparing
lectures, advising and counseling students all take time.The
more time we devote to one, the less time we have to devote to the others.
We
all, at times, like to believe we are supermen and superwomen who can do
it all.And most of us can point
to a special individual or two that we have crossed paths with that somehow
seemed to be able to do, if not all, at least most of it.But
just as every playground basketball player dreams of being Michael Jordan
or Shaquille O=Neill,
alas, we can=t
all be super profs.
For
most of us that means not being able to research and publish as much as
we would like, nor to spend as much time preparing our lectures and working
with students as we would like.But
where is the balance?And not only
do we have to balance between these competing demands for our time and
energy, we must also balance it against service to our departments, schools,
the university, the community, and dare I say it, our personal lives.Yes,
somewhere in there we must fit attention to spouses, children, home, neighborhood
and so on.
Despite
these conflicts, we are continually tempted to fall back on our vision
of ourselves as super profs and think that somehow, we should be able to
do it all.And the desire to do this
is driven by our desire to reap the kudos of our profession.
We
desire praise from our students and to see our name in print:teaching
and publishing.One problem is, the
kudos from teaching are often intangible and momentary, whereas the kudos
from publishing are physical and permanent.The
best teachers at the University are generally not known beyond the boundaries
of the campus.
So
the paradox rears its head.As a
liberal arts institution, we place great value on teaching and working
with students.The most tangible
criteria for success, however, is research and publication.And
we struggle to maintain the appropriate balance.
If
left to our own proclivities, most of us would find that balance.Unfortunately,
external forces intervene to muddle the process.
For
junior faculty working toward tenure, a key external force is the RTP committee.The
critical balance between teaching, service, research, and publishing is
not defined by the individual researcher/teacher, but by the RTP committee,
who, regardless of how many reassuring words are uttered, never truly manages
to convince us that they are as benign as they would have us believe.
The
question that permanently burrows its way into the psyche of every untenured
faculty member is AHow
many publications do I need to get tenure?@And
even though we are told that there is no magic number, that it depends
on a number of factors, etc, etc.,these
only serve to increase the level of uncertainty and anxiety.So
the paradox raises it head: should I be working on that grant proposal,
or that paper that has been gathering dust in my mind, or the lecture for
my class tomorrow?And one is always
looking over their shoulder to see how and what other members of the cohort
are doing.
Another
external force, one that impacts not only untenured faculty, but the faculty
at large, is changes at the University level.As
government support dwindles, grants, with their attendant
overhead dollars, look ever
more enticing to administrators.Consequently,a
sometimes not so subtle message comes down from above putting more emphasis
on research and publications.
Publication
records and grant-getting success go hand in hand.I
have never had to submit my teaching evaluations when applying for a grant.But
showing evidence, through publications, of relevant research, is a huge
plus.Administrators are not oblivious
to this fact and so put more pressure on faculty to publish.
Administrators
also know that the University=s
public reputation is key to attracting students.As
the price of higher education increases, expect parents to pay closer attention
to the reputation of the institutions where they spend their money.
For
better or worse, the public reputation of an institution hinges more on
the research and publication record of the faculty than on the quality
of teaching.This reflects the common
assumption that a good researcher is also a good teacher although most
of know the two are only weakly correlated.
When
the emphasis shifts in the direction of research and publishing, other
changes follow: both for faculty and for students.Depending
on how they are handled, the changes can be positive or profoundly negative.
Over
the course of 3 to 5 years, the provost went from telling new faculty that Athe
University sees teaching, research and service as a three-legged stool:
each mutually dependent on the other two@
to telling them that Aresearch
is key, teaching and service follow from research.@
This,
in and of itself, was not a bad thing.The
way it was handled though, created significant problems.Time,
as I stated earlier, is a finite resource.It
does not increase in proportion to the demands that are made on us.
The
problems that arose at my previous university grew largely out of the situation
that was created when increased expectations for research and publications
were not matched either by increased resources to accomplish them, nor
in a reduction in other demands and expectations.
In
short, the faculty was expected to do more of everything and the situation
deteriorated rapidly thereafter.
Rather
than the administration taking responsibility for the situation, the load
was passed to the faculty.The inability
to accomplish more of everything was not a seen as a reflection that too
much was expected, but as evidence that the faculty was not worthy; was
not up to the task.If you can=t
do the job, we=ll
find someone who will.
Even
though members of the faculty grumbled, two factors emerged to blunt their
response: a sincere dedication to their profession and a refusal to admit
failure.As research and publishing
expectations increased, their was a diligent attempt to make sure teaching
did not suffer.The only way to
do this however, was to steal time and energy from somewhere else.Initially,
that somewhere else was personal time: evenings and weekends.This
was not Afree
time@
as we sometimes like to refer to it.Stealing
this time had real consequences.But
professional integrity took precedence.And
failure to do so could mean denial of tenure or promotion.
The
second factor is one that has been seen at all levels of the workforce:
workers take personal responsibility for the short comings of the enterprise,
even when it is obvious the problems lie with management.When
factories close their doors and move operations offshore, workers often
blame their own lack of productivity for the move, even when productivity
levels had been steadily rising.Likewise,
the inability to meet the demands of the administration are seen by faculty
members themselves as failures on their part, not as evidence that they
had been given an impossible task to perform.
To
survive and avoid failure, faculty stole time from their personal lives,
until that reached unacceptably low levels, and then, inevitably, began
to steal time from other tasks.While
classroom time remained constant, time spent preparing lectures declined.
A
second, more striking example, occurred to one of my colleagues, we=ll
call him Peter, in another department.Peter
had just received the annual Outstanding Teaching Award.
At
the reception following the awards ceremony, the provost walked up to Peter
and said AI
hope you know, that=s
not going to help you get tenure.@As
Dave Barry would say: I=m
not making this up.
The
situation when I left, makes faculty morale at Sonoma seem like a spring
break party.Faculty burnout and
attrition were high, relationships between members of the faculty were
deteriorating, and relationships between faculty and administration...well
let me just say thisBwhen
the above mentioned provost accepted a job at another university, the local
campus paper wrote an article mentioning how many people had been at the
airport to see him off.The take
on campus was that they had only gone to make sure he actually got on the
plane.
The
point is, even though we, at Sonoma, put a great deal of emphasis on teaching,
the ability to maintain these high standards are not guaranteed.The
insidious part of the process is that, teaching standards may be threatened
by seemingly rising standards in other areas, i.e., standards of research
and publishing.
The
question of publish or teach goes beyond a simple discussion of the mutual
benefits they bring to each other.One
must also address the qualitative differences between the two in terms
of measuring faculty success.The
indicators of teaching success are often intangible, and certainly local.And
they are harder to demonstrate from the perspective of the institution.
Indicators
of publishing success, however, are both physical and more public.The
tangible rewards of publishing accrue to both the person doing it, but
also to the institution more generally.Given
that publications are only the end product of grants and research, they
also come to represent economic benefits for the University
Given
the economic benefits, it is tempting for administrators to exploit faculty
by pressing them to get more grants and do more research, and then relying
on the faculty=s
professional integrity to maintain high teaching and service standards,
thus avoiding the full costs of their decisions.
The
ability to maintain high standards only comes about through increased efforts
on the part of the faculty...levels of effort certainly not sustainable
over any length of time.Faculty
inevitably respond by lowering their teaching standards in the face of
the new demands, or if unable to accept this outcome, leave.In
the end, teaching loses.
The
long term damage to the university can be considerable.People
truly interested in teaching apply elsewhere.As
news of low faculty morale spreads, the overall quality of applicants declines.Positions
are filled, but not at the same high standards as before.
To
prevent this outcome, there must be a clear recognition of the trade-offs.And
these trade offs must be explicitly dealt with up front.The
most damaging situation arises fromAincrementalism,@like
the proverbial frog in the pot, if we wait until the water is already boiling
to make changes, it is too late.Resources
must be shifted simultaneously with shifting expectations and responsibilities.If
research and publication demands are increased, resources mus also be increased
and / or teaching and service demands must be commensurably reduced in
order to maintain quality.
Teach or publish:we can, and should do both, but a sustainable balance must be maintained and the allocation of resources must reflect this balance if we hope to maintain our high standards in all areas.