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First of all, there is the business model of the university. In Australia (where I\u2019m based) almost all universities are teaching and research \u2018liberal arts\u2019 universities, and they are almost all pubic institutions. We have a couple of private universities, but I haven\u2019t really considered them for the purpose of this post. The business model of Australian universities is overwhelmingly based on income from students, through direct fees from overseas students and government funding for Australian students. Even at research-intensive universities that secure the lion\u2019s share of grant funding, those research funds are still a very small proportion of the overall income for the university.<\/p>\n
At universities that don\u2019t secure much research funding, it can become an after-thought, an add-on, something that is unusual and therefore not well understood. There can be little or no allowance for research time to actually do the work funded by the grant. To build a research profile, a university without much research funding might need to adjust its central business model, to create time for staff to undertake research.<\/p>\n
The economics of research funding agencies are a little bit strange. Government and philanthropic funding agencies are legally obliged to give their funds away. They don\u2019t have to give them all away (e.g. to poor or to applications that breach their guidelines). But, by and large, they are in the business of giving money away. That\u2019s not the way that most organisations work.<\/p>\n
When you apply, you are trying to convince them to give the money to you. They have to give it to someone, so why not you? In return, you promise to do the work that you describe in your application. There is an understanding (in most cases) that the work involved may change as the project progresses (it is research, after all), and there are generally mechanisms to cope with those changes. At the end, you will generally write a report of what you have done. But the funders aren\u2019t buying a report. They are giving you funding so that you can do something new and interesting. The report is just a by-product.<\/p>\n
Alongside the economics of students and research grants, there is a prestige economy at work. In the normal economy, a dollar is a dollar is a dollar. The same amount of funding is needed to fund a PhD stipend (for example), no matter what the source.<\/p>\n
The prestige economy doesn\u2019t work that way. In the prestige economy, some money carries more prestige than other money. Academics can be \u2018grantist<\/a>\u2018. Funding that is peer-reviewed, that is difficult to get and \/ or that provides a large amount of money will be seen as more \u2018valuable\u2019. Grants from research councils are \u2018worth\u2019 more than grants from other funding agencies or direct funding from industry. I did my PhD on crowdfunding for research. This funding was seen as comparatively easy to get (50 \u2013 80% success rate), not peer-reviewed and relatively small amounts. As such, it didn\u2019t carry much prestige at all.<\/p>\n The prestige economy feeds on systems that try to assess the quality of research. It is very difficult (some would say impossible) to compare research across disciplines or even within disciplines. As such, markers of quality are used to make comparisons. One of those markers is amount of funding. Another is source of funding. Even though the dollars from a research council provide the same support for research as the dollars from a crowdfunding campaign, getting a grant from a research council will be seen as a marker of \u2018better\u2019 research. It will be seen in a better light when you are being compared to other researchers, such as when applying for a job or promotion.<\/p>\n In my PhD, I talked about crowdfunding as an example of abundance economics, versus standard (or scarcity) economics. Podcasts and blog posts are a good example of abundance economics. The people creating them are generally giving them away for free. When bloggers and podcasters list their projects on micro-patronage sites like Patreon, they find that about 1% of their readership will contribute to support their blog. Under a scarcity model, that makes no sense. Everything is already available for free. There is no advantage to paying money for them. It turns out that most people who are contributing are saying \u2018thank you\u2019. They want to support the blog or podcast to show their appreciation in some small way, and to encourage you to keep going.<\/p>\n Abundance economics is what fuels the development of open-source software, where people are giving their time for free to make or maintain software. While some open-source software is maintained by corporations, a lot of people contribute in their spare time. That is, they have an \u2018abundance\u2019 of time, so they put some of it towards this work.<\/p>\n Researchers often feel that they should be working in an abundance model. Their salaries are paid by the government, and the government has often provided the research funding as well, so why shouldn\u2019t their research be treated as a public good, to be given away for free? Why shouldn\u2019t universities work on the same public good model as public libraries? This can bring them into conflict with their universities, who want them to charge the full cost of their research, or to add a premium that represents the value of their expertise.<\/p>\n Some of the attitude of the university might be driven by the economics of\u00a0New Public Management<\/a>. New Public Management is way of managing the public sector to reduce cronyism and corruption. It emphasises transparency, accountability and efficiency. Unfortunately, in most instances, New Public Management has adopted neo-liberal attitudes to efficiency \u2013 as much \u2018value\u2019 must be extracted from workers as possible. Tasks are allocated theoretical amounts of time, and then those times allocations are whittled down or eliminated.<\/p>\n This attitude towards efficiency manifestly does not hold for research. By definition, research contains an element of risk, an element of the unknown. As such, it is difficult, if not impossible, to allocate time to tasks. How long does it take to think something truly new? Nobody knows. In his article on \u2018the curious problem of too much efficiency and not enough waste and failure<\/a>[JO4]<\/a>\u00a0\u2019 in the public service, Jason Potts argues that, by eliminating waste, eliminates governments have also eliminated \u201c\u2026the \u2018good waste\u2019 that is a necessary cost of experimentation\u2026\u201d. I feel that many universities risk doing the same \u2013 squeezing out time for reflection, for conversation, for meandering thought and for research that does not end up leading anywhere at all, but is still worth doing for its own sake.<\/p>\n All of this can take a toll on the economics of self. There is a pernicious culture of over-work in universities, driven by prestige on one side and New Public Management on the other. \u2018To thine own self be true<\/a>[JO5]<\/a>\u00a0\u2019 is a difficult mantra to uphold in universities that are focused on prestige and the elimination of time for thought and self-reflection. When the answer to \u201cHow much should I publish?\u201d is \u201cDo more\u201d and the answer to \u2018Is my work good enough?\u201d is \u201cDo better\u201d, it can be difficult to put limits in place.<\/p>\n Recently, after years of being a university administrator, I gained my first academic position (thank you, Deakin University). Even knowing all this, my immediate response was \u201cHow much do I have to publish and how much do I have to win in grants?\u201d. Even when I tell myself that this is not the measure of my worth as an academic, these thoughts creep in.<\/p>\n We do need to put limits in place, though. Our lives outside of the university are too important to sacrifice by working for the university for free, beyond our allotted hours, on weekends and holidays. Champions of wellbeing in academia (e.g.\u00a0Narelle Lemon<\/a>[JO6]<\/a>\u00a0) and the slow academic movement (e.g.\u00a0Agnes Bosanquet\u00a0<\/a>[JO7]<\/a>\u00a0and\u00a0Ali Black<\/a>[JO8]<\/a>\u00a0) have great things to say in this space.<\/p>\n Finally, we need to observe the limits that are put in place by the law and by the ethical guidelines that we work within. The good work of\u00a0Retraction Watch\u00a0<\/a>[JO9]<\/a>\u00a0has shone a light on those researchers who go too far through doctoring results and falsifying data. The growth of organisations who pretend to publish peer-reviewed research papers is poisoning the well for quality publishing. Questionable research practices such as claiming first authorship from students and others who have done the actual work is crippling the futures of emerging researchers, as well as teaching them that these practices are acceptable in academia. None of this is good for the future of research.<\/p>\n As I said in the opening, I don\u2019t have any solutions. These different economies bring different pressures to bear on academics. It\u2019s important to understand how they play out in your own situation, and to reflect on what effect they have on your own practice.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Abundance economics<\/h3>\n
The economics of New Public Management<\/h3>\n
The economics of self<\/h3>\n
The economics of corruption<\/h3>\n