It is hard not to spend time in and around higher education and not be overwhelmed by something between a sense of nostalgia and one of loss, as I look back at how I remember a life working in the sector nearly 30 years ago. But like most nostalgia, this loss is misplaced. All those years ago I also spent my days wrangling time to ensure I was available for my students, got all my preparation and marking done, juggled committee and school meetings and countless other unseen tasks that in being hidden meant that they were of the kind that led my relatives to assume I had several months of ‘holiday’ a year and spent most of my time reclining in my office thinking big thoughts and wasting their taxes on my unproductive thinking and teaching.
Over the years, as I have moved in and out of higher education I have watched it become more pressured and over-managed, as not only every moment of our working day became measured – but we became told, often by people who had no engagement with the processes of teaching and research, how long aspects of that work was allowed (and I use that word carefully) to take as well as what we are supposed to produce in that time. Alongside this, management burdens have grown as a language of ‘accountability’ has been taken to mean micro-managed regulation and control, and crude measures of performance and student satisfaction (often measured by instruments that lack validity, in the technical meaning of the term, and should be used to demonstrate to students how not to design surveys and similar instruments) mean that surveillance has increased. It’s not surprising then that amid all of this both students and staff are increasingly dissatisfied with their HE experiences, stress levels are rising well above averages, and it feels to many that higher education is in a state of crisis. In short, like much of the rest of the world, higher education is ‘speeding up’, and the effect is detrimental.
It is also not surprising that into this world of increasing speed, we see the beginning of a politics of slowness – in this case as a call for “deliberation over acceleration…. time to think, …. for reflection and open-ended inquiry” (p xviii). Berg and Seeber make a compelling case in this short, exciting, invigorating book for slowness in higher education, paradoxically also making the point that there is a very good chance that being slower will make our work better (paradoxical because this ‘better’ is different to the ‘better’ that for many managers means more). Much of what we do as academics is based in problem-solving: as researchers it is fundamental to our work, to our generation of new knowledge and to our refinement of existing knowledge; less obviously it is fundamental to our teaching as we work to build new ways to encourage our students to engage with ideas, knowledge and their application to build new understandings of the world around them, their place in it and their work. Sure, there are approaches that aren’t based in this idea – the pedagogy Paulo Friere called the ‘banking’ model for instance, where teaching is about dumping information on student and assessment is them parroting this information back at us; but that is bad teaching and involves no learning of any note, other than by accident. Problem solving approaches take time, require thought, reflection, musing, deliberation and so forth – exactly the things Berg and Seeber, and many of the rest of us, see as being driven out of higher education by the demands of speed.
They build their case around four major strands; time management, the pleasures of pedagogy, the processes of research and understanding and the fundamental relations of collegiality and community that this kind of intellectual work relies on. Through each of these aspects of work Berg and Seeber build an analysis but also frame much of the discussion around practical ways to deal with the problems in each field, which they admit gives the book, in places, a bit of a feel of a self-help text, a genre that is often marked by the obvious…. so the discussion of time includes sensible advice such as spending less time on-line (one of the things I don’t miss, not being in HE at the moment, is the incessant email messages, often sent by people who have copied us into things so we see they think their issue matters or that they are doing something: I have gone from 80-100 to 5-10 – it is bliss, that won’t last as I look to return to HE), and the simple observation that we should all remember that time management is not about how to fit everything in, but what to take out so we can do the things that matter. That said, sometimes the obvious needs to be restated, given that it gets lost in the speed.
Most of the book is co-written, but two chapters (on pedagogy and research) are written by one of the two authors. This gives the text a balance between a sense of collective advice and insight and individual experience. This richness is important, bringing the text to life and allowing us as readers to get a closer sense of the issues and their relevant and impacts in these cases. It also allows a little more depth in these areas, as each author can develop cases to allow us to engage with more specific evidence; if anything, the shortness of the text means that it is a little general in paces – which might be part of the plan. We’re encouraged to read slowly, and part of the effectiveness of that is that we can take the time to reflect on what the more general observations mean in our individual cases: in places I found the book a helpfully unsettling challenge to much that has become the taken for granted of practice. That said, the individually authored chapters also have the benefit of introducing differences in voice, furthering the sense that reading this is a dialogue – with Berg and Seeber and with a more reflective me.
Much of the case turns ways to encourage a sense of pleasure in learning, teaching and research, and of conviviality in our work. In doing so Berg & Seeber do not shy away from sharp political critique, of the neo-liberal drives underpinning the managerialism and instrumentalism of higher education or of the ways in which those approaches are put into practice in management, regulation and surveillance in our work, to the detriment of that work.
For any of us in higher education, our presence is a choice, an opting in to a vocation with all that comes with that in terms of service and a sense of altruism; it is little wonder then that there is much in this excellent book that encourages pleasure and conviviality and that resonates with so many of us – it is also a fine source and reminder of things we can do to get a hold of the things that make our work worthwhile. Highly recommended: it will merit multiple visits.