Peter C. Farrell, “Australian universities: A critique,”
Engineers Australia, August 24, 1984, pp. 42-47.
After being director of the University of NSW’s Centre for Biomedical Engineering — a small postgraduate facility with 16 staff and 70 graduate students — for 6½ years, Peter Farrell left Australia last month to take up a position in Japan.
A national newspaper which interviewed him at the time called him a “rebel professor” and said that after more than 10 years of fighting the university system in Australia he has decided to bail out, at least temporarily. He is, it said in a report extending across seven columns, “thoroughly disillusioned with what he describes as the ‘troglodytes and sycophants’ of the university system”.
Farrell, 42, has accepted an executive R&D position with a multinational pharmaceutical company and will handle its technology transfer between Japan and the US. So far the post is for only a year and his position at UNSW has been kept open, but he is uncertain whether he will return.
In this article he makes some biting criticism of Australian universities, saying they lack leadership and “have been allowed to operate for too long as sacred cows”. A new breed of university administrator is needed, he says.
“Bureaucracy — that which turns energy into solid waste.”
I came across this anonymous message on a bumper sticker while jogging in San Francisco a few weeks ago. Anyone who has worked for a large organisation can well appreciate its relevance. It would also be very funny if it were not so serious. Actually a friend of mine suggested a useful addendum to follow “solid waste”, namely “… of no biologic value”.
At the end of July I left the University of New South Wales ostensibly for a year’s leave of absence to work in Japan. I am taking up the position of vice-president research and development for a Tokyo-based US multinational whose annual sales are of the order of $2.5 billion.
Since I am in doubt as to whether I will return to academe or even Australia in the near-term future, I have decided to put together some “recherche du temps perdu”. I am grateful that Engineers Australia has invited me to include these thoughts in its Perspective series.
And without appearing too arrogant I feel I can offer some useful comments concerning Australian universities as the result of my experiences as a senior academic at one of Australia’s largest universities.
In making these comments I will follow the advice of Abraham Lincoln who once said: “To sin by silence when we should protest makes cowards of men.” With full recognition that President Lincoln was shot in the back I will still attempt, in the US parlance, to tell it like it is.
Problem definition. It is my belief that Australian universities are, by and large, too inflexible, unimaginative and uninnovative. They are primarily anachronisms of the 19th century, the result of a British system we inherited and which has remained philosophically unchanged.
Let me quote the brilliant liberal philosopher, John Stuart Mill (1806-1873), who said some 130 years ago: “At last there is tolerably general agreement about what a university is not. It is not a place of professional education. Universities are not intended to teach the knowledge required to fit men for some special mode of gaining their livelihood.”
With all due respect to a brilliant man of yesteryear, that is a load of codswallop. In fact, arguably the opposite is the case, and yet universities are still being run as though John Stuart Mill was our Minister for Education.
Our system, through the structure of the Australian Vice-Chancellors’ Committee and the existing internal structures which are all virtually identical, entrenches sameness and mediocrity and encourages conservatism.
For example, salaries are set by tribunals and all staff, regardless of profession — whether poetry, law, engineering, medicine or science — receive the same amount of remuneration at the same level. In other words, the structure tells us we are all of equal value to the community — this is hard to support with facts.
And there are also 8 levels of lecturer and 6 levels of senior lecturer and, regardless of performance or productivity, progression within any rank is almost guaranteed until a boundary condition is reached.
Furthermore, university budgets which are large — about $140 million for UNSW — are 90% committed to salaries, leaving only a pittance for research after administrative costs are levied. There are clearly few funds available for any innovative or imaginative activities.
Be that as it may, the two major faults with the system are the gross time-wasting of senior staff in non-productive meetings, coupled with extraordinary and unnecessary delays in decision-making and the lack of interaction with the outside community, particularly industry. In short, the public does not get value for money.
Defenders of the current order will claim that I am being grossly unfair. My reply would be that their focus is wrong — they are looking at the world through rose-tinted glasses.
The argument that things have changed in 100 years cannot be gainsaid. However, the fact that we have graduated such and such a number of scientists and engineers and produced so many publications over the past 2 decades or so misses the point.
The crux of the matter boils down to a question of what is verses what could be. The Australian taxpayer just isn’t getting a decent deal for the expenditure of over $2 billion per annum on the tertiary sector.
Where are the entrepreneurs who are so prevalent in the US system? Where are the brilliant ideas which our CSIRO scientists and university researchers have been instrumental in commercialising?
On a comparative basis with Holland and Sweden, let alone the United States or Japan, they are virtually non-existent. And there is no indication that this situation will soon change.
The defenders of the current order will of course come up with an impressive laundry list of inventions. Let me reiterate — the question does not concern what is but what could be.
In the words of Thomas Henry Huxley (1825-1895): “The great end of life is not knowledge but action.” And the gap is due to a lack of leadership, a point to which I will return.
Let me digress for a moment. For some of you I will sound like a broken record but the point is worth restating. As chairman of the High and New Technology Needs Committee of the Australian Scientific Industry Association (ASIA), I wrote the following in the introduction to a widely distributed position paper ASIA published in February 1983:
“It seems absurd that Sweden, a country of 8.5 million people, living on a virtual rock compared with our natural resources, can supply from 20,000 kilometres away 25% of the artificial kidneys used in this country, have a significant impact on our telecommunications industry (Leif-Ericsson) as well as supply significant amounts of fine chemicals (Pharmacia), instruments (LKB) and thousands of motor vehicles and trucks (Volvo and Saab). By comparison we supply them almost nothing. The same is also true of the Netherlands with 14 million people living on a virtual swamp. Our electrical industry is dominated by Philips, the oil industry by Royal Dutch Shell and the detergent and allied industries by Unilever. We can clearly do better and it is high time.”
By comparison of course one would be hard pressed to find even a stuffed koala for sale in either of these countries.
I believe this situation obtains in large part because of a failure of our educational system. And the failure is one of leadership. To improve the situation we have to develop an understanding as to where we should be heading as a nation — then strong leadership should be exercised.
Let me start by providing some “receptors” for my points of reference to an address by Sir Charles Carter who was president of the British Association for the Advancement of Science in 1981-1982. I quote from Sir Charles’ presidential address of September 1982 which was published in Science in 1983:
- “It has become very evident that you cannot have healthy science in a sick economy; however pure his-her work and however high his-her tower of ivory, the scientist depends for his support and success on the creation of wealth within an ordered society.”
- “High ability is in short supply and if too much of it is used for basic or pure research there may be little to sustain effective application.”
- “R&D must be directed to purposes which are important in relation to national needs. Much of it will be unsuccessful — that is, its product will be the discovery that something cannot be done or cannot be done at an economical price, or has missed the market opportunity. But an effort that is badly directed or badly balanced will contain an undue proportion of failures.”
- “If all clever people became poets and stupid ones produced food, clothing, and other material goods, it is likely that poets would find themselves hungry and ill-attired. And there is in fact good reason to believe that a bias exists in our society which is unfavourable to wealth production but highly favourable to activities which are seen as socially significant, but which ironically depend upon wealth production for their support.”
We all want to do things which are socially significant, but that is not realistic. To paraphrase Sir Charles, high ability is in short supply and we can’t afford to have too much of it devoted towards non-productive pursuits.
Now in case I am misquoted, let me state that I am four-square behind basic or pure research. It is just a question of balance in terms of allocating resources.
Similarly, the pursuit of music and literary activities as well as professions such as law, medicine and accounting are all necessary but we should be aware that these pursuits are in a sense “parasitic”. They cannot adequately survive without wealth-producing activities. The great artists, musicians and scientists of yesteryear such as Michelangelo, da Vinci, Haydn, Bach, Galileo and Copernicus all had their benefactors.
The current situation is a little different in that the State is often the benefactor. For example, the Australian Opera on the one hand, and the CSIRO on the other receive significant support, or total in the case of the CSIRO, from the public purse.
I am not against this support, for without it we would not have the cultural and scientific benefits of these great bodies. Nevertheless, we must ask ourselves from time to time how much we benefit from these organisations and whether or not the quid pro quo is worthwhile or can be improved upon.
In fact it is our duty to do so, since misallocation of resources results in lost opportunities which can in the long-term be extremely deleterious. Universities and colleges of advanced education are no exceptions.
Universities in our country supposedly operate on the basis of consensus. The Japanese call this process nemawashi, but they follow this consensus — seeking with a binding document or ringisho, which becomes the road map for implementation of the decisions to which all people adhere.
The big differences between us are that, first, the consensus-building in Japan involves, as far as possible, everyone in the organisation from cooks and bottle-washers on up. Second, the ringisho is well thought out and based upon a rational appraisal of what the future might hold.
In contrast, in our universities it is the senior management who are primarily involved — the vice chancellor, deputy vice chancellor and/or pro vice chancellor and, according to the issues, the bursar and registrar or the deans of faculties. Decisions are then cursorily brought before the Professorial Board and/or the University Council for approval. There are rare knock-backs.
As far as I am concerned, little of real decision-making relevance comes to the attention of the heads of school, let alone to staff lower down.
This comment well be challenged. However, the reality is that any consultation is a formality only — the real decision-making base is a small clique of senior officers regardless of window-dressing to the contrary.
An unfortunate consequence of this is that activity is valued over results. In fact, results don’t actually matter all that much because the nature of decisions is such that, first, the results are mostly impossible to quantify and, second, the feedback cycle is so long.
There is of course a difference between the decision-making machinery concerning decisions which matter and ones which don’t. In general, anything to do with money or space are matters which the hierarchical clique decide. All other matters are up for grabs.
And the decision-making process is a curious one which I will qualitatively describe — I don’t believe it differs regardless of the presumed importance of the matter at hand.
A subcommittee of professors is formed to debate a given issue. There is in general no overall hypothesis to guide the decision-making, with the result that there is no real attempt at data collection or analysis.
The consequence of this approach is that there is nothing quantitative, even semi-quantitative, upon which to arrive at a rational set of conclusions on which to base a decision.
I do not suggest that all matters can be quantified, but there is a difference between a guess that is based on a rational appraisal of a range of possibilities and a guess that is simply a gamble, in which decisions are not compared and contrasted against the best and worst possibilities.
In general, two or more committee members will have vested interests, or axes of one sort or another to grind, and will dress up a suggested course of action by reference to similar actions takes at other reputedly respected universities, either internal or external, preferably both. The time taken to prepare a report on the matter will then be exactly equal to that predicted by one of Parkinson’s Laws — it will be time allowed for completion.
Now, if professors behaved this way in their professional areas of expertise they would be figuratively hung, and with good reason. As Thomas Henry Huxley also said: “The deepest sin against the human mind is to believe things without evidence.”
I have suggested that one of the reasons the tertiary sector is not performance-oriented is due to the structure. It definitely needs changing to reflect an updated appreciation of human resource management.
However, probably the most critical factor is a dearth of leadership. This goes hand-in-glove with poor people-management.
Not all the blame for the lack of leadership can be placed at the feet of the senior officers of the university.
It is all very well saying, as did the Minister for Education and Youth Affairs, Senator Susan Ryan, in announcing the 1985 budget for the tertiary sector, that universities must force links with the private sector.
The fact is they do not know how to do it, since the leadership does not have the receptors to understand what must take place. In a hierarchical bureaucratic system, this means nothing will happen.
The situation is analogous to a physician giving a drug to a patient who has developed receptor antibodies — unless the patient has free receptors to receive the drug nothing will happen.
And while the university system selects as its senior officers people — biochemists, physical chemists, historians or whatever — who are supposed to set the tone and provide leadership and yet who have no real-world experience, then there will be no effective links to the outside community.
The outcome is predictable. No action will flow. Furthermore, although leaders can come from all walks of life it is an extremely remote possibility to expect leaders to develop from the cloistered atmosphere of the university environment, particularly from the basic science areas, without people having some experience of life in the real world away from universities.
As Norbert Wiener (1894-1964), the MIT cyberneticist, once said in a slightly different context: “It is like trying to entice a woman to make love by winking at her in the dark: the intent never is realised.”
Leadership. I found the most pithy and succinct description of leadership in a most unlikely place — the July 1983 Regency Magazine of the Hyatt Hotels Corporation. I came upon the magazine while staying at the Hyatt Regency in Louisville, Kentucky last year.
The editorial was about leadership and was written by Pat Foley, president of the Hyatt Hotels Corporation. While not quoting Foley verbatim I will refer to some of the points he made.
Leadership is about vision, imagination, flexibility and innovation all in the interests of charting the future. It relies on a clear understanding of objectives and an ability to translate these objectives to the rest of the organisation.
Leadership cannot be based or rely upon luck, whim, fancy, hope or ad hocism. It is also not something which can be turned on or off like a switch, it is a way of living.
It involves an appreciation of the big-picture concomitant with an ability to motivate people to exceed even their own personal expectations. To succeed as a leader, a person must understand people and be sensitive, concerned and caring.
A leader motivates first and foremost by example. He/she is a communicator and an initiator, an action-oriented person who is neither prevaricator nor presider. He/she is results-oriented and never makes excuses.
A leader looks for solutions while delegating authority and responsibility and seeking expert advice and help from whatever source makes sense. However, the leader is always the one who carries the can — the person of final responsibility.
It is impossible to be a leader without imagination or a sense of vision. A leader has to possess an ability to chart the future from the past, building upon what has gone to set goals for the future.
Above all, a leader must have the ability to create a social structure that channels others’ energies and abilities.
Leadership is not a part-time job and relies upon an extensive knowledge and appreciation of the strength and weakness of people within the system. This information cannot be easily obtained second-hand.
Now let me examine why I believe that leadership does not exist within the average Australian university.
Again in defence of the top echelon within our universities, the way the vice chancellor’s position is set up it is virtually impossible to lead. (The reasons are well outlined in Robert Townsend’s book Further up the organisation, Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 1984.)
Assuming he accepts the perks of the job, it is not feasible for the VC to keep in close touch with campus activities to the degree which is necessary.
He arrives at work in a chauffeur-driven car, is dropped at the private parking lot and goes up the back stairs to be confronted by administrative assistants or senior officers waiting to protect him from too much unpleasantness.
With rare exceptions he communicates only with the former plus his private secretary. Anything too unpalatable is predigested and sweetened before being written up for his attention. His appointments diary is replete with outside committee and board meetings as well as with social engagements with powerful friends outside the university community, the bulk of whom have little or nothing to do with the daily running or functioning of the university.
After a couple of months of this he has lost touch with his own institution.
What about the second-layer of management? The senior officers at the next level(s) are waiting for positions at the top to open up. As a consequence the emphasis is on speaking in sotto voce tones, keeping noses clean and not making mistakes.
And as Charles Knight, chairman of US giant Emerson Electric said about the latter: “You need the ability to fail; you cannot innovate unless you are willing to make mistakes.”
To paraphrase Robert Townsend, such momentum that can be maintained within the institution is presided over by mastering the techniques of meetings and report-writing — all in the service of not rocking the boat. In fact, there is no leadership and this is best summed up as follows: “Big institutions seem to prefer analysis and debate to trying something out and they are paralysed by fear and failure, however small” (T. Peters and R. Waterman, In Search of Excellence, 1982).
People. The cliché “people are our best asset” is mouthed by all institutions but rarely taken seriously. This is certainly true within universities.
If people are considered such wonderful assets why do we on the one hand waste their time with bureaucratic red tape and then on the other not reward them appropriately. Curiously enough people within any rank in the system go up through the salary scales whether they perform or not — its automatic. As a consequence there is no need to try.
In any productive system, if that is the assumed goal, the system must be such that effort results in performance, performance begets rewards and the rewards must be seen as appropriate. This does not obtain within universities.
In addition, based on the incredibly detailed policy manuals which exist within universities (the blue book at UNSW) people are mistrusted.
Policy manuals are part of the dim, dark ages. To paraphrase Townsend again, if general they are useless, if specific they are not only expensive to prepare and maintain, they will be used by people with a military mentality to thwart the creative and adventuresome who will eventually despair and leave.
If one has to have a policy manual then it should be drawn up along the following lines:
- If you make a mess, clear it up.
- If you break something, fix it.
- If you borrow something, return it.
And so on. If these lessons haven’t been learned before secondary school has begun then all the manuals in the world won’t work.
And if the manuals are designed to cover every nook and cranny with a view to making sure nothing goes wrong then one will end up with the so-called triple S system or the self-stuffing system, where there are so many checks and balances that nothing ever happens. We are close to that in certain of our universities.
In terms of people motivation and challenge, Douglas MacGregor of MIT’s Sloan School of Management really said it all in his 1960 book: The Human Side of the Enterprise. In this book he coined the terms “Theory X/Theory Y” to describe two categories of management systems.
The first, which is anachronistic and more in line with the system used in Roman legions, describes the premises on which most big organisations function. Theory X says that the organisations:
- mistrust people
- don’t consult with employees adequately
- assume people hate to work and have to be driven and threatened in order to do so, and
- that people like security, aren’t ambitious, dislike responsibility and have to be told what to do.
In contrast, Theory Y says that, provided people have enough food, drink, shelter and group acceptance, they:
- find work as natural as rest or play
- don’t have to be forced or threatened and when committed to mutual objectives will drive themselves more effectively than they can be driven
- will commit themselves only to the extent that they can see ways of satisfying their ego and development needs.
To be sure, not all Theory X/Theory Y points apply to universities. However, the lack of consultation, the inefficiency, the indecision, the lack of decent and rational performance criteria and the existence of such things as outmoded and restrictive policy manuals indicate that the Theory Y approach has not yet filtered into the tertiary bureaucracy,
And until leaders appear who can communicate, listen, chart the future and motivate, the same will always be true.
Suggestions for improvement. John D. Elliot, managing director of Elders IXL Ltd, one of Australia’s biggest and most successful companies, in delivering the 1983 James N. Kirby Paper on behalf of the Institution of Production Engineers began his address as follows:
“This nation’s future economic prosperity rests squarely on our willingness to encourage enterprise. We must nurture the efforts of individuals, the innovations of men and women left to their own devices within relatively free markets for goods and services. The basic organising principle of economic activity remains the law of supply and demand.”
Elliott’s theme was deregulation and he pointed out that Australia with 15 million people has as much regulatory machinery as our major economic partners.
The universities reflect this mentality. There is no reward for enterprise and individuals are not left to their own devices with enough in the way of resources to do anything worthwhile. In fact, a detailed analysis of the functioning of the system would have to conclude that activity is valued over results.
A large part of the problems within the tertiary sector, apart from the ones I mentioned, is the number of mindless, senseless meetings that are conducted on a daily basis and which solve nothing. Henry David Thoreau (1817-62) put it succinctly: “Life is frittered away by detail. Simplify. Simplify.”
In fact it is amazing how much time is frittered away with details that either do not matter or could have been delegated to a much lower level in the system for a decision. Unfortunately, concerning administrative activities, the question “Are we actually doing or likely to do something worthwhile?” is too rarely asked.
If there were really matters of moment to be considered most of the current meetings would be dispensed with. Probably this problem arises because there is not really that much to worry about if the little details were not considered.
The fact is that all our tertiary institutions live almost completely on government handouts. When funds are cut the administrators vaguely squeal, making comments such as “while the increases are welcome they are not enough” and such like.
Well, if that is the case why not take action to raise extra funds in the private sector instead of just waffling?
The necessity of raising funds is a way of life in the United States. Our universities by comparison have more in common with retirement villages, where nothing much matters.
While Japan is a veritable miracle, its economy is still less than one-third the size of the United States and it is far behind in terms of technologic innovations, although perhaps equally capable with respect to commercialisation of ideas, once obtained.
The best known US universities, such as Harvard, MIT, Stanford and CalTech, are all private. They also have extraordinarily strong ties to industry, by a number of direct and indirect ties — like the route 128 complex outside MIT and the “Silicon Valley” around Stanford.
And if you’re private, you have to produce, there has to be a quid pro quo, there is no resting on laurels, there are no free handouts, there has to be a sense of urgency and application.
It is clearly a different environment for university administrators. The need to make a living has a clear way of focussing dreams and dreamers.
Dr George A. Keyworth II, the US President’s science advisor, said the following in an address to the Nuclear Power Assembly in Washington DC in May 1983:
“American technological progress suffers — and sometimes suffers badly — from the artificial barriers between industry and the bulk of the basic research establishment. Most academic and federal scientists still operate in virtual isolation from the expertise of industry. They derive little benefit from the experience and guidance of the marketplace. One can make a convincing case that this separation is a root cause of our sluggishness — compared to some of our more energetic competitors — in turning research into products.
“I am always puzzled that so much of the academic research community has failed to notice how successful — and mutually beneficial — those industrial interactions are. At least a few universities have demonstrated that academic research can achieve the highest levels of quality and also be linked to the industrial world for great economic and intellectual benefit. Places like the Massachusetts Institute of Technology or Stanford University should be beacons for the community.”
If Dr Keyworth feels that US technological progress is suffering from artificial barriers between industry and the basic research establishments, need I ask where that leaves Australia.
Our universities have been allowed to operate for too long as sacred cows with administrators cloistered away in their ivory towers, ignoring the wishes and needs of the economic system which feeds them.
These institutions are replete with senior officers who have neither the necessary leadership qualities nor the awareness to motivate and challenge their academic colleagues to become involved in activities more relevant to the community at large.
There is a need to nurture areas which although talked about are not acted upon to the degree needed. These include, inter alia, training more entrepreneurs and developing technology in conjunction with industry.
Passing resolutions or legislation will not make these things happen. An infusion of new blood is desperately needed.
Administrators are required with industrial experience, high academic qualifications and, more importantly, a track record of productive management at senior levels to take up key positions within tertiary institutions, replacing some of the King Canutes occupying positions of power and influence, yet lacking both receptors and leadership qualities.
In specific terms there will need to be an increased focus on area with an applied bias such as new materials technology, microelectronics, biotechnology, communications, information technology, energy studies, biomedical engineering, agricultural engineering and business studies centred on entrepreneurship. All constitute areas of national need.
However, developments should take place in conjunction with industrial partners and possibly, in some instances, with the involvement of the CSIRO. It will be the leaders’ responsibility to forge these ties and make them work.
What qualities will the new breed of university administrator require?
In short these potential leaders must have a wider appreciation of science, technology and management and should not be taken from narrow science or arts bases. They will emphasise flexibility and possess an ability both to communicate and take the organisational pulse. These are some of the sine qua non attributes that are needed.
In all probability the new breed of leader does not reside within the current tertiary system. There will be exceptions. However, the tertiary sector must attract potential leaders with wider perspectives and awareness so that the nuts and bolts of addressing both national needs and the needs of the non-academic community can be commenced.
To my mind the need for infusion of this new blood has long passed. The two remaining questions to be addressed are, first, how can the system be altered to accept this need for change and, second, how do we entice the right people to apply?
There is now a general acceptance within universities, particularly among senior academic staff, that all is not well. In fact some of the senior administrators are also aware of the levels of dissatisfaction and frustration.
I do not believe, however, that the attractive and seductive short-term solution of political intervention in a guillotine-type way is either desirable or necessary.
Nevertheless, the government does control the purse strings and a reasonable initial approach would be to employ management consultants to make recommendations as to how responsibility and authority can be delegated more adequately with the system to make universities more productive, responsive, alert and aware of their responsibilities.
The recommendations must not be binding, however, but would have sufficiently attractive financial carrots and sticks clearly aligned with the most important recommendations for change. The report could be done within 6 to 9 months.
I do not believe that attraction of the requisite leaders to enter the system will be all that difficult. There are plenty of capable, successful senior-level managers with appropriate qualifications who would rise to the challenge and be attracted by 5-year contracts, with possibly renewable provisions.
The advertisements for these people should be world-wide and sufficiently attractive financially to entice the right people. The intent is not to make people rich but to present the challenge to create the social structures to allow both recommended and more obvious immediate changes to take place.
The time for action is well and truly upon the tertiary institutions of this country. For outsiders looking into the present system, the most appropriate words I can think of come from the immortal Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) who, when asked what he thought of a serious drama he has just seen, replied: “Only a person with a heart of stone could watch it without laughing.”