“Thus, there will be situations in which the best tactic for defending the humanities in the face of real or simulated scepticism may be to say: ‘See, this is what we do: terrific, isn’t it?’ If the response from the sober-suited self-styled administrative realists around the table is to say that they don’t see that it’s terrific at all, it may, paradoxically, be better to let the discussion degenerate into a version of the pantomime exchange ‘Oh yes it is/Oh no it isn’t’, rather than to try to re-describe the value of the activity in terms drawn from a different, instrumental world of discourse” (Collini, 2012, pp.84-85).
Most aspects of evaluation and accreditation processes involve a limited group of first-hand participants. Not all the academics of an institution become directly implicated, and even less so the students. A complete accreditation process can be undertaken with a very limited participation of staff and an even less significant participation of students. Most of the time only academics with managerial responsibilities in a programme have the duty to collect evidence and data required by an accreditation agency, and arrange it all together in one
document. The document is probably read – and most likely not in its entirety – by a small group of people. This reality is in total contrast with the efforts placed on the generation of visible cues around quality assurance. Conferences, press releases, ceremonies, brochures and websites are dedicated to show how reforms and processes are taking place with quality assurance as their main purpose. The efforts dedicated to making quality assurance processes visible to society can be observed in Europe as well as in Central America; in Germany, where higher education is predominantly public, and in Nicaragua, where most universities are private.
In Europe, most of the Bologna Process’ stated aims could in fact be invisible to external eyes and even to students. It can be argued that the most recognisable impact has been the introduction of comparable first and second cycle degrees: Bachelor and Master. In Germany this implied the recent removal of the Diplom through an amendment to the federal law of higher education in 1998, allowing both universities and Fachhochschulen to offer the new types of degrees (Haug, 1999). Bologna Process documents called for this restructuration as a response to the realisation that in Europe, and especially in Austria, Denmark and Germany, students were taking longer to graduate than what the official programmes were said to last. The reasons given to back the decision to shorten enrolment duration –through the new degree structure and the shortening of grants– where mainly economic but also, according to Schade (2007, pp. 180-181), to increase the flexibility of study opportunities, improve the international compatibility of German degrees, and increase the number of international students seeking study places in Germany. Therefore, the alteration in degree structure could be understood as a strategy to make visible Germany’s disposition to create a more effective and compatible system. Apparently, encouraging students to complete their
Diplom in a shorter time would not have been considered effective enough. Likewise, stating
that German universities have been open to international students at least since 1926, one year after the foundation of the Deutscher Akademischer Austauschdienst (DAAD), would not have been enough to demonstrate the county’s commitment to ‘internationalise’.
In Central America accreditation processes involve extensive communication campaigns that aim at informing students about the meaning of accreditation as a seal of quality that adds value to their degree. The notion of universities acquiring a superior status as members of a recognised group is also present in these messages, and shared through the media. The seal of approval of an accreditation is supposed to officially distinguish a group of universities from others that will remain as unreliable “garage universities”. In this sense, the value of accreditation and other quality assurance processes resides in that they can become
visible signs used for students to differentiate the good providers from the rest in the dense higher education market. An explanation of how accreditation agencies work, who are its members and how an accreditation is obtained is not as available as the resulting symbol of recognition. The official approval of universities, formerly granted by different governmental dependencies – in the case of Nicaragua by the National Council of Universities (Consejo
Nacional de Universidades - CNU) – which became insufficient upon the arrival of quality
assurance, never enjoyed or required much visibility.
Perhaps because of its inclination for visibility, quality assurance is also about registering and measuring performance. Several critical analyses of quality assurance have characterised it as being based on performativity, and hence inclined to superficiality. Some scholars argue that the management of teaching promotes a superficial theory of learning based on performance (Lee & Manathunga, 2010).It has also been stated that an institutional stress on performativity, evidenced by the emergence of an emphasis on measured outputs: on strategic planning, performance indicators, quality assurance measures and academic audits has replaced the traditional professional culture of open intellectual enquiry and debate (Olssen & Peters, 2005, p. 313). The new focus is placed on processes instead of content; on numbers instead of arguments. Ostensibly, processes and numbers talk more than substance and words in the measurement of quality.
Indeed, quality assurance experts go into menial detail about the way in which quality assurance should be applied in practice. There is no shortage of manuals on quality audit, evaluation and accreditation. The processes are clear and carefully standardised (see, for example: CNEA, 2011 and ACQUIN, 2009). There is a certain way to conduct an evaluation, to write an evaluation report for an accreditation agency, to do strategic planning, to build indicators, and to generate evidence. On the other hand, quality itself appears as a slippery concept in quality assurance literature (see, for example, Neave, 1994), where very different definitions are used without stating the reason behind the selection of a particular approach. In addition, the concept is often applied without an acknowledgement of how a particular perspective can conceal important aspects of the reality it intends to portray (Frazer, 1992). It is also common to find very broad definitions in the literature, comprising of very different elements, such as Harvey and Green’s (1993), which includes: excellence and meeting of standards, consistency, fitness of purpose, value for money and transformation of the students by giving them the ability and empowerment to make good decisions. Broad definitions such as this one are common in accreditation manuals. Promoters of quality assurance do not focus on defining the concept of quality with as much precision as the processes they promote. The
tendency is for the concept to absorb as much elements as it can in order to be all- encompassing of university life. Lists of indicators seem to endlessly grow in an effort to prevent leaving anything unattended. The conceptual limitations of quality assurance are ignored in comparison to the profuse interest directed towards its application.
With its emphasis on the measurement of outputs and the verification of procedures, accreditation is portrayed as a very strict and meticulous process that can accurately reveal both the strong points and the weaknesses of a program or institution and in some cases, as in Central America, can even eradicate low quality institutions from the scene or rescue institutions from a path to mediocrity.40 In reality, it is hard to demonstrate the promised effects with data. Quite the opposite could also be happening. A paper based on Finnish universities points out that the pressure to fulfil commercial as well as scientific indicators constantly being measured in quality assurance processes has led academics to lower the standards of their work (Häyrinen-Alestalo & Peltola, 2006, p. 276). Many times accreditation adapts its indicators to the realities of mass higher education institutions, lowering previously set standards agreed by agencies. And still another possibility is that universities have learned to confound the evaluation system by successfully disguising key aspects. Indeed, Power states that since quality audit is about management processes, practices and procedures of manufacture, not the product itself, it “can provide assurance that the system works well even when substantive performance is poor (1997, p. 60).
Perhaps the best way of analysing this is to look at the experience of those who have applied these processes for the longest time. It is stimulating, therefore, to look at the case of the United States, where several states have altered accreditation practices in order to prevent institutions from failing to obtain an accreditation, especially in the case of the private for- profit institutions. “In so doing, they accept hiring practices that de-center full-time faculty – the states affirm lack of faculty involvement in shared governance as well as universities with
40 This aspect is particularly poignant in Latin America because of the rapid growth of the higher
education system in many countries. For example, there were eight universities in Chile in the 1970s (two public and six private) (Dickhaus, 2010). Today, it is hard to be certain about the total number of universities existing in the country. Some sources mention 18 public and 61 private (Altillo.Com El Portal de los Estudiantes, 2014). Other sources say there are 59 universities: 25 of which receive state funds – 16 public and 9 private – and 34 which do not (Comisión Nacional de Acreditación- CNA Chile, 2014). Still, other sources mention 15 public and 27 private universities (Universia Chile, 2014). In short, Chile’s case exemplifies the Latin American higher education boom, and its sharp lean towards the private sector. It also hints at the system’s lack of control or formality regarding the creation of new universities and their official acceptance.
no libraries and little face-to-face instruction” (Slaughter & Rhoades, 1996, pp. 21-22). The same situation can also be identified in Nicaragua, as described in the previous chapter. Another example is the Research Assessment Exercise (RAE) applied to universities in Great Britain, which has been criticised as costly, time-consuming and full of irrationalities and absurdities. As a result, it has been pointed out that universities come up with “tricks” and absurdly inflated claims, to avoid reducing their ratings (Callinicos, 2006, pp. 17-18).
For Shore (2010), the emphasis on performativity affects academics by producing the opposite of what is meant to produce. While it is said to promote transparency, academics become dedicated to the production of fabrications. The fabrications are a response to the contradictions generated in the current “schizophrenic” university, which ends up producing “schizophrenic academic subjects”. To explore this notion, Shore analysed the understanding of the current reforms among academics by conducting an ethnographic study in New Zealand – one of the pioneer countries in the introduction of New Public Management –, which included observations and interviews to reveal academics’ points of view and reactions regarding the institutional changes they experienced. Combining contradictory goals proves to be a very difficult task. Shore found that the natural result of increasingly loading responsibilities on the university has been a rise in workload for academics, which, together with the audit culture that is established, has eroded traditional relationships of trust and professionalism among faculty (2010, pp.26-27).
Shore’s findings on the exploitative situation of academic workers can be supported with results from several other studies. One study points out that academic work has traditionally been perceived as not stressful mainly because it enjoyed work stability (Thorsen, 1996). However, data shows that casual, short-term contracts are now very common among academic staff. In the United States temporary teaching staff went from 22% in 1970 to around 50% in 1997 (Slaughter & Rhoades, 2004, p.18; DiGiacomo, 2005), and up to 70% in 2007 (American Association of University Professors, 2007). It is easy to find the connection between the discourse of continuous improvement and adaptation and the unrestrained possession of a volatile work force.
In addition to increasing work instability, academics also deal with stressful quantities of work. Thorsen (1996) found that stress is not linked to the nature or type of work academics do, but to the amount of it. The workload that many academics have is perceived by them as overwhelming. Significantly, in this particular study conducted in Canada, the job that teachers reported as least stressful was teaching and time spent with students, and the most stressful was research (Thorsen, 1996), an activity that during the first half of the 1990s – when the
study was conducted – was being subjected to more audit control and measurements of productivity than teaching. Academics reported that they had more tasks continuously being added to their responsibilities, which together with the fact that traditional scholarly work is time consuming, gave them the sense that they had little control over their workplace (p.473). Although this study was conducted in 1996, it was pointed out that “increases in class size, static budgets and imposed forms of review and accountability all contribute to the potential for an increase in negative stress” (p.473). We could safely assume that this trend was maintained or increased in the following years.
Several other studies from different countries also discuss the tendency of increased stress in academic work. A study on New Zealand academics focuses essentially on the increasing quantity of work and stress levels (Chalmers, 1998). A paper by a British academic reflected on what he calls the “embodied struggles of an academic at a university that is permeated by an audit culture” (Sparkes, 2007, p. 421), highlighting the complexities of navigating academic quality-assessed life and the possibility of describing its destructive effects. Another study tried to pinpoint the extent and sources of stress in university staff in a Quebec University, and alarmingly found that 40% of university workers reported psychological distress stemming mainly from “work overload, the relationship with one’s superior, and participation in decision making” (Biron, Brun & Ivers, 2008, p. 511). This study is significant because it adds two other features brought about by quality assessment trends, as both the relationship with superiors and the participation in decision making are aspects which become mediated through quality assessment processes.
Another effect of the current situation, which arguably also generates stress on university staff, is that it places some fields of knowledge in the path towards disappearance, or at least to a diminished status and uncertain future. The impact of this situation can be wide for the dynamics of academic life and in unforeseeable ways. It has been observed that what can be easily measured is emphasised over what cannot, and as a results some disciplines become prominent while others are undervalued (see, for example: Rhoades & Sporn, 2002). Finnish academics, for example, display very different attitudes towards quality assurance and its market orientation depending on the academic field they belong to: some show a concentration on scientific excellence coupled with feelings of uneasiness towards the market, while others display a pragmatic approach that, nevertheless, undermines their scientific goals (Häyrinen-Alestalo & Peltola, 2006, p. 276). There is a current emphasis on products – as the desired outcome of research – which does not comprehend products that consist of ideas, generating a discrimination of academic fields that do not produce tangible products
(Häyrinen-Alestalo & Peltola, 2006, p. 277; see also Rhoades & Sporn, 2002). On the other hand, certain fields of knowledge enjoy greater wealth to support their research, salaries, and work conditions, both through the larger availability of public grants and private funding, but also from greater abundance of fee-paying students. Hence, the current situation translates into a “disfavour” or “institutional de-emphasis” of the humanities (Taylor, Cantwell & Slaughter, 2013).
This state of affairs is commented by academics in disfavoured areas, and the oblivion is evident in Humanities Faculty premises – even more so when compared to technological Faculty buildings. A study based on the American context confirmed this anecdotal perception (Taylor, Cantwell & Slaughter, 2013). The authors describe the American universities as being embedded in “quasi-markets”. These include public and private funds, and what turns them into “quasi-markets” is that they are created by policy makers instead of spontaneous laissez-faire exchange, have rewards systems that reflect policy priorities instead of economic efficiency, and hence although they promote competition, some institutions have better access to rewards due to their belonging in particular sectors, or engaging in activities valued by the policy makers (p. 676, 678). Since the humanities are not targeted by policy makers, the researchers found that private universities decreased the share of doctoral degrees in those fields as they increased their revenues from federal grants and contracts. Nevertheless, this was not the case in public institutions, where state grants are not linked to students’ selected majors (p.698). The authors state, however, that a further study could be done focusing on expenditures, which could reveal the validity of the proposition that the humanities may be cross-subsidizing other fields as most of the time students are required to pay the same amount for tuition than students in costlier fields (pp.700-701). However, innovation and competition discourses do not allow university managers to see their potential for revenue generation (p.701), and hence place them in an unfavourable light. Collini makes an observation that might help us understand why the humanities are not able to insert themselves successfully in the current context. He claims that:
the goal of work in the humanities, in particular, is better described as ‘understanding’ than as ‘knowledge’. One of the consequences of insisting on that distinction is the recognition that whereas knowledge is seen as in some sense objective, ‘out there’, a pile or hoard that exists whether anyone is tending it or not and which any suitably energetic person can climb to the top of, understanding is a human activity that depends in part upon the qualities of the understander (2012, p.77).
Collini further describes why this characteristic means the humanities cannot be submitted to measurement:
A further practical implication of this line of argument is that at all levels the model of assessment in the humanities has to be judgement not measurement, and judgement cannot, without loss and distortion, be rendered in quantitative terms nor can its grounds ever be made wholly ‘transparent’ (to use another of the current Edspeak buzzwords). This last suggestion can seem particularly unpalatable when viewed from the perspective of those who are judged adversely: the student whose work has been failed, the colleague who has unsuccessfully applied for promotion, the department which has been ranked lower than it expected in the scramble for funds, and so on (2012, pp.78-79).
Quality assurance’s reliance on indicators as the most reliable evidence constitutes one of its weaknesses. As shown in several studies, indicators many times fail to reveal what they claim to. A good example is the expansion of higher education. The indicator observed conveys the idea that a growing access to higher education automatically means better opportunities for the youth in question and for the economy and labour market in general. However, massification policies, according to Keep and Mayhew, rest on “evidence that is, at best, incomplete, and at worst, weak or contradictory” (2004, p.310). This possibility is never considered in the policy papers on which quality in higher education is defined. An analysis of the situation, based on the case of Great Britain reveals that it is not clear that the consequences of these policies of expansion are positive (p.311). Keep and Mayhew examined