What are the core values of a university?
In exploring this question it is perhaps best to start with what individual higher education institutions publicise as the institutional values that inform their activities. These can be read off from their mission statements. However different the contexts, the values underpinning such statements will usually be found to share a great deal in common.
For example, the Mission Statement of York St John University (the host institution for the series of conferences on Value and Virtue in Practice-Based Research, where the paper that was to become this chapter was first presented) is distinctive mainly in the active assertiveness of its commitment âto the provision of excellent, open and progressive higher education that embraces difference, challenges prejudice and promotes justice, and is shaped by York St John's Church foundationâ. Building on this foundation, the statement goes on, the university will, among other things: âFoster a supportive, creative, critical and reflective community which promotes personal and professional development for both students and staffâ.
The values being articulated here are easily discerned: openness, diversity, equity, inclusiveness, community, creativity and self-reflexiveness. The university is a community of scholars; its role is to enable the personal and professional development of its students and staff. âPersonalâ implicitly involves both intellectual and spiritual development. Personal and professional development is generally agreed to involve equipping graduates for productive and ethical employment after they leave university.
However, these values are finding themselves increasingly at odds with the values that have come to inform the dominant discourse about HE in the UK. Further, a sector-wide consideration about âthe kind of university education which is worthwhile, ethical and advances a democratic societyâ that Melanie Walker identifies as having characterised HE in South Africa over the past forty years (Walker, 2012: 49) seems to have been almost entirely missing from the debate about HE in the UK over the past decade.
In apartheid South Africa in the 1970s and 1980s the central value on which the liberal English language universities set out their stall was academic freedom, articulated in terms of the freedom to choose who should be taught, what they should be taught and who should do the teaching. All three strands of this perspective were anathema to apartheid's segregationist ideologues. Beyond that, the object of the exercise was seen as being to enable each individual student to achieve his or her potential to the fullest.
The concomitant benefits to society were understood along the lines later articulated so well for the UK by Bill Taylor in the Taylor Report, New Directions for Higher Education Funding. Taylor argued that good higher education enhances the quality of life, helps to create a more responsible and informed electorate, encourages longer time perspectives and assists in raising cultural tolerance and understanding. This last was particularly important in a South African society deeply divided along ethnic and cultural lines. Higher educational levels also, for Taylor, âencourage creativity, imagination and the visual and performing artsâ (Universities UK, 2001: 2â3).
However, the Afrikaans language universities did not share the same interpretation of academic freedom as the English language universities and were willing to be used by the government as vehicles for the furtherance of Afrikaner Nationalism. It was from these universities that the Nationalists drew their political philosophers, historians and theologians as well as their politicians and the high level functionaries of the apartheid state. History had to be shaped to accord with the segregationist narrative of Nationalist Afrikanerdom; a âChristianâ rationale for racial discrimination needed to be mined from the Bible and apartheid needed to be theorised. Consequently, âColouredâ and âIndianâ universities were established and universities for Africans set up in the âBantustansâ â the supposedly âindependentâ âHomelandsâ â in line with the philosophy of âseparate developmentâ. Universities were thereby perceived as, and used as, key instruments for the furtherance of the Nationalist government's apartheid ideology. All the while, government ministers declared an unwavering commitment to university autonomy, even as they manipulated the funding formulae to the severe disadvantage of universities that opposed their policies.
A comparison between the South African and the UK situation reveals a disturbing parallel. While the ideological ends to which universities are being directed are clearly not the same, there has been in the UK over the past fifteen years a deeply disconcerting descent into an equivalent instrumentalism in the discourse around higher education. This is best exemplified via a brief comparison of the Dearing and Browne reports. For Dearing (as for Taylor) the main purposes of higher education are:
- to inspire and enable individuals to develop their capabilities to the highest potential levels throughout life, so that they grow intellectually, are well-equipped for work, and can contribute effectively to society and achieve personal fulfilment;
- to increase knowledge and understanding for their own sake and to foster their application to the benefit of the economy and society. (Dearing, 1997: 5.11)
Being well-equipped for work and benefiting the economy are explicitly second-order imperatives: what universities are for is âto play a major role in shaping a democratic, civilised, inclusive societyâ. It is, says Dearing: â⌠a hallmark of a civilised society that it pursues knowledge at the highest levels for its own sake and that it seeks knowledge for altruistic, and not only commercial, endsâ (Dearing, 1997: 5.44).
Dearing, as recently as 1997, could assert that âthere are values shared throughout higher education and without which higher education, as we understand it, could not existâ. He lists among such values:
- a commitment to the pursuit of truth;
- a responsibility to share knowledge;
- freedom of thought and expression;
- analysing evidence rigorously and using reasoned argument to reach a conclusion;
- a willingness to listen to alternative views and judge them on their merits;
- a commitment to consider the ethical implications of different findings or practices. (Dearing, 1997: 5.39)
In 1997 Dearing identified the main beneficiaries of higher education and, concluding that âthe costs of higher education should be shared among those who benefit from itâ, identified three: the individual, the employers of graduates, and the State (Dearing, 1997: 18.26).
Fifteen years later, by contrast, Browne starts off by asserting that âa strong higher education system is an important element in the economy and culture of a leading nationâ (Browne, 2010: 14). The precedence given to âeconomyâ over âcultureâ is symptomatic. The discourse, in keeping with the dominant discourse of the UK government over the past decade, is instrumentalist and, although it makes passing and somewhat token reference to the wider value of HE to society, the dominant value â that of economic growth â invariably shows through, as in: âHigher education institutions (HEIs) generate and diffuse ideas, safeguard knowledge, catalyse innovation, inspire creativity, enliven culture, stimulate regional economies and strengthen civil societyâ (Browne, 2010: 14).
Any non-financial benefits that might accrue to graduates are therefore always subordinate to a much fuller elaboration of the economic benefits to individuals than had characterised the Dearing Report. According to Browne:
Higher education matters because it transforms the lives of individuals. On graduating, graduates are more likely to be employed, more likely to enjoy higher wages and better job satisfaction, and more likely to find it easier to move from one job to the next. Participating in higher education enables individuals from low income backgrounds and then their families to enter higher status jobs and increase their earnings. (Browne, 2010: 14)
âTransforming the lives of individualsâ is seen in purely economic terms. Higher education is transformative for the individual because it enables people to make more money and, for society: âHigher education matters because it drives innovation and economic transformationâ (Browne, 2010: 14). It could, of course, be argued that graduate employment is important, but HE doesn't exist solely to give students the certificates they need to get jobs.
We are told by Browne at some length that HE helps to produce economic growth and output through innovation. The core of the argument goes:
These benefits are captured in the premium employers pay to employ graduates. A degree provides graduates with an entry to employment as well as a habit of learning. Over the course of a working life the average graduate earns comfortably over ÂŁ100,000 more, in today's valuation and net of tax, than someone with A levels who does not go to university. (Browne, 2010: 15)
So where Dearing recognised the three main beneficiaries of HE as the State, the individual and employers, it comes as no surprise after this that Browne's focus is entirely on the individual. He downplays the benefit to the State, and while acknowledging that the economy and the employers benefit, he can't think of a way of making employers contribute beyond their employment of graduates. Employing graduates is hardly altruistic. And the current situation is that, with the notable exception of a minimum academic threshold for admission to HE, almost every one of Browne's recommendations has been implemented.
The dominant values are economic and individualistic â shared no doubt with a great many contemporary bankers who have had them reinforced by their university experience. Universities are understood as being about equipping graduates with higher-level skills, and they are expected to put âemployabilityâ at the top of their agendas. Further, universities that wish to aspire to the liberal HE values articulated so well by Dearing are, like the liberal universities in apartheid South Africa, likely to find themselves increasingly isolated. Informed by a dominant ideology that is highly elitist and, for all lip service to the contrary, highly exclusive, UK governments this century have, like the Nationalist government in South Africa, been wholly unashamed in using funding levers to shape the sector to their ideological ends.
Contrast the values inherent in both reports. For Dearing a university education was a public good, though individuals clearly benefit and should share some of the cost. The values imbued in the university include truth, community and public responsibility; virtue resides, among other things, in ethical behaviour. For Browne a university education is overwhelmingly a private good and values are overwhelmingly economically orientated; virtue consists in earning over one's lifetime ÂŁ100,000 more than people who didn't go to university.
One can only agree with Mark Cleary's comment that there â⌠is a sense that the role of universities in providing for and building the âpublic goodâ is in danger of disappearing with the increased ferocity of a competitive, market driven rhetoric in which individual employability and the graduate premium is the ultimate measure of what a university doesâ (Cleary, 2011: 41).
One brief example must suffice by way of illustration of the kind of outcome one can expect if governments are going to manipulate higher education evaluation processes and funding mechanisms to narrowly focussed and politically expedient ideological ends. November 2013 saw the deadline for submissions to the 2014 Research Excellence Framework (REF) which determined universities' research funding for the six years after 2015. The increasing instrumentalism that characterised Browne's vision of higher education has resulted in a Treasury-driven insistence that a significant portion of the future funding of research should be based on its measurable economic, social and cultural âimpactâ. In the process, blue-sky research â the increase in knowledge and understanding for their own sake â has been drastically devalued.
So in seventeen years we have moved a long way away from Dearing's â⌠a hallmark of a civilised society [is] that it pursues knowledge at the highest levels for its own sake and that it seeks knowledge for altruistic, and not only commercial, endsâ. If it is, as the Dearing report suggests, âa distinctive feature of an advanced civilisation to seek the advancement of knowledge for its own sake âŚâ (Dearing, 1997: 5.24), the utilitarian instincts of twenty-first century UK governments have clearly set our civilisation on a regressive path. It may have been salutary for the architects of the REF âimpactâ agenda to pause for a moment over one...