Academic freedom is not the freedom of any individual, but the freedom of truth,

beauty and the good to exist with some degree of consistency among human beings.
Merton’s norms and values of modern science are concerned with the enactment of
the scientific enterprise, not the benefice of any individuals. Merton’s CUDOS are the
norms through which the pursuit of truth is to be realised in a modern society. They
are the integrity of science in human minds. Both academics (as the actuators of these
values) and universities (as institutions with any sense of self-integrity) have an
inherent interest in sustaining academic (alongside scientific) norms and values.
Academic freedom, as the broadest of these values, is hence paramount to
distinguishing the academic from other (non-professional) modes of communication
and action. Conceived in the negative mode, academic freedom is divisive, as
academics may compete against one another for (for example) less interference or less
censorship through economic means. The tenured professor wealthy in both grant
funding and prestige can purchase the time and attention of lesser academic
commodities, more easily dictate the terms of research, to a degree. Conceived in the
positive mode, academic freedom must be pursued in cooperation. Competition over
scarce resources produces appeals to the private interests of funding bodies, incentive
for academics to engage in “boasting” research findings and generally self-interested
conduct. (Mark Carrigan aptly describes the competitive self-interest produced by the
recent digital metrification of academic work, claiming that “The depressing thought
is that I struggle to imagine not being interested in them [publication and citation
metrics]“.)
Although academic freedom is not a freedom for the benefit of individuals, it does
entail an ethics of the individual – a mode of relating to oneself as an academic. That
is, academic freedom is normative. When taken for a negative freedom, the
maximisation of academic freedom might entail the maximisation of discretionary
effort – that is, the effort one expends above the threshold required to avoid “getting
in trouble”. Maximising academic freedom in this manner is fraught with deleterious
consequences for both academic work cultures and perhaps even the academic
profession in general. Individuals encourage each other to overwork via positively
reinforcing workaholism and the broader academic profession becomes obsessed with
proxies of academic value, such as publication formulae, citation counts and grant
dollars.
A positive conception of academic freedom – as a freedom of the academic
profession, not the individual – is a useful conceptual tool to re-frame what is at stake
in the corporatised/managerial university. Individual academics are encouraged within
metric assemblages to become self-interested actors, seeking to maximise their
personal freedoms often in competition with other academic actors. While this
survival-of-the-fittest model of academe may indeed assist universities in adapting to
changing funding environments, producing leaner and meaner bureaucracies, it does
not ensure that academe will remain a distinct realm in which truth, beauty and the
good are openly sought, spoken and heard. This would require a bureaucracy that
recognises that academic freedom and integrity are systemic. The danger is not
individual dishonesty (which is rare and readily sanctioned), but the systemic
normalization of self-interest over scientific interest.
Academic freedom is not the freedom of any individual, but the freedom of truth,
beauty and the good to exist with some degree of consistency among human beings.
Merton’s norms and values of modern science are concerned with the enactment of
the scientific enterprise, not the benefice of any individuals. Merton’s CUDOS are the
norms through which the pursuit of truth is to be realised in a modern society. They
are the integrity of science in human minds. Both academics (as the actuators of these
values) and universities (as institutions with any sense of self-integrity) have an
inherent interest in sustaining academic (alongside scientific) norms and values.
Academic freedom, as the broadest of these values, is hence paramount to
distinguishing the academic from other (non-professional) modes of communication
and action. Conceived in the negative mode, academic freedom is divisive, as
academics may compete against one another for (for example) less interference or less
censorship through economic means. The tenured professor wealthy in both grant
funding and prestige can purchase the time and attention of lesser academic
commodities, more easily dictate the terms of research, to a degree. Conceived in the
positive mode, academic freedom must be pursued in cooperation. Competition over
scarce resources produces appeals to the private interests of funding bodies, incentive
for academics to engage in “boasting” research findings and generally self-interested
conduct. (Mark Carrigan aptly describes the competitive self-interest produced by the
recent digital metrification of academic work, claiming that “The depressing thought
is that I struggle to imagine not being interested in them [publication and citation
metrics]“.)
Although academic freedom is not a freedom for the benefit of individuals, it does
entail an ethics of the individual – a mode of relating to oneself as an academic. That
is, academic freedom is normative. When taken for a negative freedom, the
maximisation of academic freedom might entail the maximisation of discretionary
effort – that is, the effort one expends above the threshold required to avoid “getting
in trouble”. Maximising academic freedom in this manner is fraught with deleterious
consequences for both academic work cultures and perhaps even the academic
profession in general. Individuals encourage each other to overwork via positively
reinforcing workaholism and the broader academic profession becomes obsessed with
proxies of academic value, such as publication formulae, citation counts and grant
dollars.
A positive conception of academic freedom – as a freedom of the academic
profession, not the individual – is a useful conceptual tool to re-frame what is at stake
in the corporatised/managerial university. Individual academics are encouraged within
metric assemblages to become self-interested actors, seeking to maximise their
personal freedoms often in competition with other academic actors. While this
survival-of-the-fittest model of academe may indeed assist universities in adapting to
changing funding environments, producing leaner and meaner bureaucracies, it does
not ensure that academe will remain a distinct realm in which truth, beauty and the
good are openly sought, spoken and heard. This would require a bureaucracy that
recognises that academic freedom and integrity are systemic. The danger is not
individual dishonesty (which is rare and readily sanctioned), but the systemic
normalization of self-interest over scientific interest.
Academic freedom is not the freedom of any individual, but the freedom of truth,
beauty and the good to exist with some degree of consistency among human beings.
Merton’s norms and values of modern science are concerned with the enactment of
the scientific enterprise, not the benefice of any individuals. Merton’s CUDOS are the
norms through which the pursuit of truth is to be realised in a modern society. They
are the integrity of science in human minds. Both academics (as the actuators of these
values) and universities (as institutions with any sense of self-integrity) have an
inherent interest in sustaining academic (alongside scientific) norms and values.
Academic freedom, as the broadest of these values, is hence paramount to
distinguishing the academic from other (non-professional) modes of communication
and action. Conceived in the negative mode, academic freedom is divisive, as
academics may compete against one another for (for example) less interference or less
censorship through economic means. The tenured professor wealthy in both grant
funding and prestige can purchase the time and attention of lesser academic
commodities, more easily dictate the terms of research, to a degree. Conceived in the
positive mode, academic freedom must be pursued in cooperation. Competition over
scarce resources produces appeals to the private interests of funding bodies, incentive
for academics to engage in “boasting” research findings and generally self-interested
conduct. (Mark Carrigan aptly describes the competitive self-interest produced by the
recent digital metrification of academic work, claiming that “The depressing thought
is that I struggle to imagine not being interested in them [publication and citation
metrics]“.)
Although academic freedom is not a freedom for the benefit of individuals, it does
entail an ethics of the individual – a mode of relating to oneself as an academic. That
is, academic freedom is normative. When taken for a negative freedom, the
maximisation of academic freedom might entail the maximisation of discretionary
effort – that is, the effort one expends above the threshold required to avoid “getting
in trouble”. Maximising academic freedom in this manner is fraught with deleterious
consequences for both academic work cultures and perhaps even the academic
profession in general. Individuals encourage each other to overwork via positively
reinforcing workaholism and the broader academic profession becomes obsessed with
proxies of academic value, such as publication formulae, citation counts and grant
dollars.
A positive conception of academic freedom – as a freedom of the academic
profession, not the individual – is a useful conceptual tool to re-frame what is at stake
in the corporatised/managerial university. Individual academics are encouraged within
metric assemblages to become self-interested actors, seeking to maximise their
personal freedoms often in competition with other academic actors. While this
survival-of-the-fittest model of academe may indeed assist universities in adapting to
changing funding environments, producing leaner and meaner bureaucracies, it does
not ensure that academe will remain a distinct realm in which truth, beauty and the
good are openly sought, spoken and heard. This would require a bureaucracy that
recognises that academic freedom and integrity are systemic. The danger is not
individual dishonesty (which is rare and readily sanctioned), but the systemic
normalization of self-interest over scientific interest.
Academic freedom is not the freedom of any individual, but the freedom of truth,
beauty and the good to exist with some degree of consistency among human beings.
Merton’s norms and values of modern science are concerned with the enactment of
the scientific enterprise, not the benefice of any individuals. Merton’s CUDOS are the
norms through which the pursuit of truth is to be realised in a modern society. They
are the integrity of science in human minds. Both academics (as the actuators of these
values) and universities (as institutions with any sense of self-integrity) have an
inherent interest in sustaining academic (alongside scientific) norms and values.
Academic freedom, as the broadest of these values, is hence paramount to
distinguishing the academic from other (non-professional) modes of communication
and action. Conceived in the negative mode, academic freedom is divisive, as
academics may compete against one another for (for example) less interference or less
censorship through economic means. The tenured professor wealthy in both grant
funding and prestige can purchase the time and attention of lesser academic
commodities, more easily dictate the terms of research, to a degree. Conceived in the
positive mode, academic freedom must be pursued in cooperation. Competition over
scarce resources produces appeals to the private interests of funding bodies, incentive
for academics to engage in “boasting” research findings and generally self-interested
conduct. (Mark Carrigan aptly describes the competitive self-interest produced by the
recent digital metrification of academic work, claiming that “The depressing thought
is that I struggle to imagine not being interested in them [publication and citation
metrics]“.)
Although academic freedom is not a freedom for the benefit of individuals, it does
entail an ethics of the individual – a mode of relating to oneself as an academic. That
is, academic freedom is normative. When taken for a negative freedom, the
maximisation of academic freedom might entail the maximisation of discretionary
effort – that is, the effort one expends above the threshold required to avoid “getting
in trouble”. Maximising academic freedom in this manner is fraught with deleterious
consequences for both academic work cultures and perhaps even the academic
profession in general. Individuals encourage each other to overwork via positively
reinforcing workaholism and the broader academic profession becomes obsessed with
proxies of academic value, such as publication formulae, citation counts and grant
dollars.
A positive conception of academic freedom – as a freedom of the academic
profession, not the individual – is a useful conceptual tool to re-frame what is at stake
in the corporatised/managerial university. Individual academics are encouraged within
metric assemblages to become self-interested actors, seeking to maximise their
personal freedoms often in competition with other academic actors. While this
survival-of-the-fittest model of academe may indeed assist universities in adapting to
changing funding environments, producing leaner and meaner bureaucracies, it does
not ensure that academe will remain a distinct realm in which truth, beauty and the
good are openly sought, spoken and heard. This would require a bureaucracy that
recognises that academic freedom and integrity are systemic. The danger is not
individual dishonesty (which is rare and readily sanctioned), but the systemic
normalization of self-interest over scientific interest.
Academic freedom is not the freedom of any individual, but the freedom of truth,
beauty and the good to exist with some degree of consistency among human beings.
Merton’s norms and values of modern science are concerned with the enactment of
the scientific enterprise, not the benefice of any individuals. Merton’s CUDOS are the
norms through which the pursuit of truth is to be realised in a modern society. They
are the integrity of science in human minds. Both academics (as the actuators of these
values) and universities (as institutions with any sense of self-integrity) have an
inherent interest in sustaining academic (alongside scientific) norms and values.
Academic freedom, as the broadest of these values, is hence paramount to
distinguishing the academic from other (non-professional) modes of communication
and action. Conceived in the negative mode, academic freedom is divisive, as
academics may compete against one another for (for example) less interference or less
censorship through economic means. The tenured professor wealthy in both grant
funding and prestige can purchase the time and attention of lesser academic
commodities, more easily dictate the terms of research, to a degree. Conceived in the
positive mode, academic freedom must be pursued in cooperation. Competition over
scarce resources produces appeals to the private interests of funding bodies, incentive
for academics to engage in “boasting” research findings and generally self-interested
conduct. (Mark Carrigan aptly describes the competitive self-interest produced by the
recent digital metrification of academic work, claiming that “The depressing thought
is that I struggle to imagine not being interested in them [publication and citation
metrics]“.)
Although academic freedom is not a freedom for the benefit of individuals, it does
entail an ethics of the individual – a mode of relating to oneself as an academic. That
is, academic freedom is normative. When taken for a negative freedom, the
maximisation of academic freedom might entail the maximisation of discretionary
effort – that is, the effort one expends above the threshold required to avoid “getting
in trouble”. Maximising academic freedom in this manner is fraught with deleterious
consequences for both academic work cultures and perhaps even the academic
profession in general. Individuals encourage each other to overwork via positively
reinforcing workaholism and the broader academic profession becomes obsessed with
proxies of academic value, such as publication formulae, citation counts and grant
dollars.
A positive conception of academic freedom – as a freedom of the academic
profession, not the individual – is a useful conceptual tool to re-frame what is at stake
in the corporatised/managerial university. Individual academics are encouraged within
metric assemblages to become self-interested actors, seeking to maximise their
personal freedoms often in competition with other academic actors. While this
survival-of-the-fittest model of academe may indeed assist universities in adapting to
changing funding environments, producing leaner and meaner bureaucracies, it does
not ensure that academe will remain a distinct realm in which truth, beauty and the
good are openly sought, spoken and heard. This would require a bureaucracy that
recognises that academic freedom and integrity are systemic. The danger is not
individual dishonesty (which is rare and readily sanctioned), but the systemic
normalization of self-interest over scientific interest.