Open Access and the Future of Academia

Today on Savage Minds, my friend Ryan Anderson and I posted a conversational piece on open access, and other issues within the academy. Ryan and I go back several years to the early days of our anthropology educations, though he’s one of the many friends I have through social media but have still never met in person. We both took part in the early founding of the Open Anthropology Cooperative, have collaborated on blogs, and had many discussions about anthropology, academia, and the job market, so it was good to have this dialog and resituate ourselves and see how far we’ve come and how much further we still have to go.

I like the conversational style as well, because, although we agree on most things, there are clearly different perspectives and ideas being expressed. Even though the post is primarily about open access publishing, it also touches on a number of issues I’ve mentioned here in recent weeks (here, here, and here), and it was good to hash these out with a fellow anthropologist who is a little further along in his career than I am and get a sense of what might be coming next. I am also glad this was posted on National Adjunct Walkout Day, because, although I’m not sure how much effect those protests have had, I think it’s an important reminder of who is doing the labor in academia these days and how little they are being compensated. I believe that all of these issues are intertwined, and that, in order to address them, we have to work together and fully support one another in our efforts to push back against the neoliberalization of academia.

Anyway, go over to Savage Minds, read the post, and let us know what you think. Hopefully we can figure out some options and strategies for crafting the kind of university that will be truly a public good.

One Year Since the Hardest Day of My Life

One year ago, I faced the most difficult thing I have ever had to face. I still remember that night and the morning Tim died with vivid clarity. I remember the bouts of panic and crying interspersed with periods of guarded hope that he might recover as I made my way to New York City in the early morning hours. I remember the moment I learned that he had died, and collapsing in the hallway of the hospital as my body was wracked by waves of sadness and pain. I remember seeing his body – still warm, but a frigid blue – and holding his lifeless hand, crying, wishing it was only a dream. I remember the ghostly feeling I had for hours afterward – a lingering emptiness that seemed to permeate the world as if a sudden silence had overtaken it.

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I don’t talk about it or write about it much. That’s not because it is emotionally difficult – it is in many ways, but not prohibitively so – but because there doesn’t seem to be anything I can say to convey how I feel. Everything falls short, or is easily misinterpreted. So I keep my feelings to myself, and only talk about his death when I have good reason. Often, I find myself mentioning him in conversation as if he were still alive – generally to save others from the awkwardness of having to say “I’m sorry” when they find out he is no longer alive, but also to save myself the pain of saying “It’s okay” to assuage their discomfort. It’s not okay, and it never will be, but I live with it.

I think about him daily. Often I feel the pang of realization that he is, in fact, gone, and I will never see him or talk to him again. I would still give anything to hear his voice one more time. The last year has been rough at times, but also happy, exciting, and even tranquil. That’s the thing about living with his loss – it’s not that I am sad all of the time, but that every experience, happy or sad, is tinged with the sense that he is not there. He isn’t there to talk to when I am feeling down, to calm me when I am anxious, to share in my enjoyment, or to idly chat with about the mundanities of life.

I have fi2014-04-04 06.40.28lled my world with remembrances of him in fear that his presence will fade. It has in some ways, but I am no longer worried that he will fade completely. Still, I keep the reminders around me as a way to keep talking to him even though he is gone. I imagine, one day, telling my kids about the uncle they never met, and seeing their eyes grow wide at the elaborate stories I have of him and is (mis)adventures. I hope that, despite his flaws, they will be inspired and encouraged by those stories, and will keep his memory alive even when I am gone.

That’s what this year has been for me, and now, facing the anniversary of his death, I wish the best to all of our family and to his friends who loved him so much. I hope we all can keep his memory alive, and hold one another’s hands as we heal and find our way forward together.

Creating Our Future

That’s the subject of the latest email from Wallace Loh, the President of the University of Maryland. I respect the sense of agency in the sentiment, but I fear the message itself suggests a lack of agency in the face of “long-term forces” to which “we are not immune.” Constrained budgets are the “new normal” we are told, because “[t]axpayers increasingly view public higher education more as a private benefit than as a public good.” Our only option is to “respond creatively” to those constraints. As a result, he has announced the Flagship 2020 Commission, which will be tasked with making recommendations for how to become a top 10 flagship university.

I am not interested in accepting this new normal. I am not interested in allowing public higher education to become a private benefit – intellectual resorts for the privileged few. Universities have been sites of radical transformation, and, despite the attacks – both budgetary and ideological – with which they are currently faced, they could still be that. In a world faced with global inequalities, environmental destruction, and where such transformative sites are diminishing, we need to defend the few we have left. But that means more than just fighting for better funding of universities (although, that remains an important part of it). It means that we in the university have to do our share of the work to create a future – or, better, a present – in which the ideals of the university as a public good can thrive. It means making the university into a public good and resisting the drive towards privatization by breaking down the barriers that still exist between communities and the academic world. That might, in the end, lead to a radical transformation of the university itself, but one that would provide greater benefit to society as a whole rather than sealing itself off and only benefiting the few who can still afford to attend.

I applaud some of what Loh and this Commission are trying to achieve, but I worry that, in their acceptance of the “new normal” and their rejection of the university as a transformative space, they will fail to see the many alternative futures that we could create.

Cracking the Ivory Tower

A few days ago I wrote a post suggesting that the University system is dying (or, rather, being killed off) and that we need to either enter triage mode or fight to keep it alive. The thing is, it’s hard to argue for the University as a public good when news like this comes out. Essentially, the article describes research that shows that University hiring practices for faculty tend to favor those who graduate from prestigious institutions rather than those who are more productive or innovative. This means not only that the University system suffers from classism, but that unpopular or heterodox ideas will tend to get less attention than those that challenge the status quo. At a time of increasing economic, racial, and gender inequality as well as global climate change and other environmental disasters, we need ideas that challenge the status quo rather than the tired old analyses based on the same theoretical tools we’ve been throwing around since the 1960s – to no avail.

It’s news like this that makes me increasingly convinced that the majority of the truly revolutionary and innovative work is not being done at universities but in sites and situations that persist in the interstices of academic and public life – the para-sites of academia. That’s not to say that truly creative and wonderful things aren’t happening at Universities – my University experience has been full of beneficial relationships and innovative explorations of uncharted territories – but those activities are not rewarded or even recognized by the dominant academic community. They are smiled upon, given the okay, and allowed to exist, but not rewarded or nurtured – those of us who do them do so out of pure passion and generally at our own expense. And this is increasingly the case as budgets get cut and the drive for quantitative measures of performance take precedence over real novelty and engagement.

I love the University, but if it is to become – as it seems to be going – an intellectual resort for only the most privileged of students and faculty, then I think those of us who really care about the world need to begin to find a way out. We have to find these cracks in the ivory tower wherever they may be – we have to nurture them, claw at them, make them grow in any way we can find. We have to do it, and we have to do it together because nobody else is going to.

Indulging Narcissism…

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Since it’s my birthday today, I figure I am allowed to indulge my narcissistic side a little bit. With that in mind, I’d like to announce the launch of two new websites that I’ve been putting together and will be added to my online narcissistic presence.

The first is a site all about me, and even uses my name for the URL (jeremytrombley.com)! What could be more self-loving than that? It will serve as an online CV for job applications and other purposes in the coming years – as I begin to move out of the PhD program and into real life. I won’t be posting there – it will be more of a static page, but I will update it periodically as things change.

The second is a research blog where I will document the trials and tribulations of my dissertation field work. I have been doing that a little bit here, but I think it’s helpful to separate the dissertation project from my overarching work at Struggle Forever! I’ll link back to it here and do cross-posts as needed, but documenting the nitty-gritty of research will take place there from now on. The site is called The Model and The Territory – recalling the now-cliché Korzybski saying – but, hopefully, suggesting the idea that, in some significant ways, the model is the territory, and we need to be attentive to that.

The Long, Slow Death of the University

This past week, we got word from the President of the University that our budget from the state is being cut severely. In response, he is implementing various money-saving policies that affect everyone at the university. Merit and cost of living raises have been suspended, employees are being furloughed, and budgets are being cut. It is a distressing time to be an academic-in-training, and makes me concerned about the future of academia.

I am fairly convinced now that the university as a public institution is dying. It’s not just dying, but we are killing it, slowly and methodically like the killer who slips a little bit of arsenic into their elderly family member’s food to get early access to their inheritance. Except – the ironic twist revealed after the murder is successful – there is no inheritance!

Perhaps, it is time to begin thinking of alternatives – radical alternatives that don’t simply give in to the neoliberal wet dreams of those who are slowly killing the university. Let academia be reborn as a new method and practice with a critical edge that cuts through the forces bringing about its demise today. I don’t know what those alternatives will look like – no one can know – but we are beginning to see possibilities emerging. In the meantime, we have to figure out what to do with the dying shell of the university.

Some – even academics – would welcome the demise of the university. But the harsh reality is that the institution provides a lot of people with a living, and it would be a devastating blow to not just intellectual pursuit in this country but to the material well-being of a lot of people. It makes me think – following my friends at Synthetic_Zero – that we need some kind of academic triage. Letting the university die with dignity and grace and ensuring that the people who it supports are let go easily and the worst of the material consequences are avoided.

Alternatively, we could fight for the life of our institution, resuscitate it, feed it, bring it back from the brink of death – a death which is, after all, not natural but imposed from the outside. Rage, rage against the dying of the light! But maybe that’s too optimistic.