WEEKEND READING: What if, in trying to ‘fix’ universities, we are quietly unmaking them?

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This blog was kindly authored by Dr Monica Franco-Santos, Reader in Organisational Governance and Performance, Cranfield University.

Across the UK, it is widely recognised that universities are under intense financial pressure. The observable fact is simple enough: there is not enough money coming in to cover the costs of what universities are expected to do. The difficulty begins when leaders, advisers and commentators decide what kind of problem this is.

How the financial problem is described is not neutral. It reflects and reinforces a particular way of understanding what a university is and how it should function. If the financial situation is framed as a classic demand-and-cost problem (i.e., demand is insufficient, prices are constrained, and unit costs are too high), then the university is, implicitly, being treated as a ‘service provider’ operating in a competitive international education market where students are customers. In that frame, the obvious actions are to emphasise tight cost controls and to strengthen output-focused performance metrics, targets and incentives such as promotions based on publications in highly rated journals, income generation or teaching satisfaction scores.

If the same financial situation is framed instead as a system-level shock that threatens the conditions under which teaching, research and public service can flourish, then a different picture of the university comes into view: a ‘living knowledge ecosystem’ serving a public mission and facing financial constraints partly beyond its control. Within that frame, the responses appears quite different. Attention turns to protecting core capacities, reducing harm to the most vulnerable parts of the system and working with others to share risks and resources.

In both cases, the numbers in the spreadsheets are the same. What differs is the story told about the problem, and the underlying image of the university that story presupposes. At present, the former factory-like framing is the most common. With it, the danger is that, under a narrative of financial constraints, universities take actions that emphasise governance practices that reshape behaviour so deeply that, over time, what remains may still be called a ‘university’, but no longer acts like one.

What makes a university a university?

Students come to university for far more than a certificate or a set of skills. They expect new knowledge, but also critical thinking, confidence, friendships, networks and the sense that they are part of something bigger than themselves. They hope that a university education will open doors and help them lead more meaningful and fuller lives.

Academics are drawn to universities not only as workplaces. They want to pursue their passion, make meaningful contributions, explore new ideas, contribute to their disciplines and teach the next generation. Many accept lower pay and higher uncertainty than they might enjoy elsewhere because they believe in the university’s mission.

Governments and taxpayers fund universities not because they are efficient ‘businesses’, but because they are essential public institutions. They generate research that underpins economic growth and cultural life. They educate professionals on whom society depends. They are meant to be spaces where difficult questions can be asked and discussed. They are fundamental institutions in a democratic society.

None of this is easily captured by governance practices that focus on performance metrics, targets, incentives or cost controls. These governance practices convey a different message about what is valued and what counts, and over time, these messages have the power to reshape what people do and eventually, what a university is.

The rise of ‘control-oriented governance practices’ and how they change the rules of the game

In recent years, universities have increasingly adopted governance practices such as:

• individual and departmental targets for income, outputs and student metrics;
• performance indicators used in league tables and regulatory frameworks;
• workload models that count every task in hours and allocate them through software;
• performance-related pay and promotion criteria tied closely to measured outputs;
• cost analysis that evaluates teaching programmes as if they were products or services in their own right.

These control-oriented governance practices are introduced with good intentions. Leaders demand accountability and transparency. They want to reassure governors and regulators that they are ‘in control’. They want to show staff that decisions are based on objective data. However, these governance practices carry with them implicit assumptions: that performance is controllable, that it can be measured and managed in a hierarchical manner and that those who produce the measurable performance are likely to behave in self-interested, risk-averse, and effort-averse ways. As a result, cost control, monitoring, tight targets, and performance-contingent rewards are seen as necessary to secure results. In our current situation, that means financial results.

What we tend to forget is that, as this style of governance spreads and becomes institutionalised, it often displaces older, more collegial arrangements in which academics and professional staff had greater discretion, participated in decisions and were trusted to act in line with the institution’s mission. Governance systems can become self-fulfilling. The assumptions on which they are based eventually appear to be true, not because they were accurate to begin with, but because the specific mechanisms introduced steadily guide people to behave as if they were.

When these governance arrangements take hold, several things tend to happen:

• academics who value autonomy, curiosity and public service may leave, or never enter, university life as they notice these values are no longer upheld. Others may be made redundant as part of cost-saving measures;
• those who remain may adapt by focusing on what is measured rather than what matters. They learn to hit targets, manage their ‘scores’, and protect themselves. They eventually behave as the practices assume them to behave;
• new entrants may be selected partly for their comfort with this environment. The population slowly changes.

In this way, the market logic remakes the institution in its own image. At that point, the university may perform respectably in league tables and may have returned to healthy financial levels. But something more fundamental has shifted. The pattern of behaviour that governance practices value, reward and punish no longer aligns with the traditional mission of the university as a community of scholars serving the public good. The question then is not just “Are we financially sustainable?” It is “What kind of institution are we sustaining?”

Questions for leaders and policymakers

Policy work should offer alternatives, not only criticism. So what might it mean to protect the ’university-ness’ of universities under financial pressure?

For governing bodies:

• when you review performance information, ask not only “are we on target?” but also “what behaviours are these indicators encouraging or discouraging?”;
• consider whether the balance between control and collegial governance is appropriate for different roles, especially for academic work.

For vice-chancellors and senior teams:

• before introducing new dashboards, workload systems or performance schemes, ask a simple question: “If this mechanism were the only thing staff knew about what we value, what would they infer?”;
• involve staff from different groups in the design and review of governance mechanisms, and be open to evidence about unintended consequences, including effects on stress, trust and identity.

For government and regulators:

• recognise that the way funding and accountability regimes are structured shapes internal governance. If external frameworks reward narrow indicators, it is unsurprising that institutions pass that logic on to individuals;
• consider how policy can support forms of governance that sustain academic stewardship, not only short-term performance.

When do universities stop being universities?

Universities can and must adapt. They have evolved many times in response to political, economic and technological shifts. No one is arguing for a return to a mythical golden age. However, if we allow a narrow, factory-style logic of control to dominate and we frame all our problems through that lens, we risk changing not only processes and structures, but the very rules of the game. When the values and behaviours that are made salient are those that undermine curiosity, critical thought and public service, the term ‘university’ begins to lose its substance.

In my view, this is the core issue that staff, students, governors and policymakers should be debating. The question is not only how to keep universities solvent, but how to ensure that, in ten or twenty years’ time, they are still universities. And by that I mean: places where the pursuit of knowledge, the formation of judgement and the service to society remain at the heart of what they do.