There’s a lot of discussion at my university these days about “changing the faculty reward system” to better reflect modern faculty work. Our institution, like many around the country, is developing definitions of faculty work and tenure and promotion criteria which move away from the typical “Big Three” of research, teaching, and service toward integrated models of faculty activity. We all know that faculty don’t work in the solitary way they used to- they connect with each other, the community, corporate entities, and others to apply the knowledge and training they have to both address problems and expose students to that process. Gone are the days of the solitary biologist in the lab with the bacterial cultures, working alone to determine and manipulate growth curves. Today’s biologist is in the field with the environmental scientist, the chemist, and the public health researcher figuring out how the bacterium got there, why it’s growing where and how it is, and estimating its impact on the water supply. It’s interdisciplinary research, of course, but there more to it than that. It’s the service-learning class in which students are supposed to apply what they learn in their Sociology lectures to work they do in a shelter for battered women and children. These integrated activities are hard to quantify in the traditional Big Three frame, so clearly, we need to find a way to quantify and evaluate these “new” types of faculty work. As the Associate Dean who runs my college’s tenure and promotion process, and an interdisciplinary scholar in my own rite, I’m on board with this, but I have a deep, dark secret- I’m a Stanley Fish fan.
Although I agree that we need to modernize the way we see and reward faculty work, I have a deepening concern about our approach. Finally, I’ve named my unease, and it is akin to a theme laid out in Stanley Fish’s new book, “Save the World on Your Own Time.” When I utter Dr. Fish’s name in the halls of my university, it’s almost as if I’ve made a disparaging remark about someones mother, but there are fundamental aspects of his view that must be integrated into our discussions of faculty work.
Dr. Fish says many things in his new book, many of them provocative and controversial (BTW, I highly recommend the book to the thinking academic- it is one of the most invigorating and sometimes maddening reads I’ve had in a long time). The particularly germane kernel from the book is that faculty work must still be scholarly “faculty” work, not social work, political work, or personal work without clear and definite connections to real, rigorous scholarship. Faculty work, done on behalf of the university, as innovative and interdisciplinary as it might be, must still be rigorous, scholarly, and deeply grounded in the discipline(s) in which we teach and do research, even as we cross boundaries and venture beyond the walls of our labs and classrooms. The focus of the conversation regarding “valuing modern faculty work” has shifted from this fundamental tenet of making faculty scholarship, clearly and broadly defined in terms of rigor and quality, accessible and meaningful in the larger context of society, to essentially finding ways to accept any activity faculty decide to undertake and name as “scholarship” as a valued activity in the tenure and promotion process. We are on the brink of becoming overly-inclusive in what we accept as valued faculty work; unless we are deliberate and careful, we will find ourselves utterly unable to objectively measure the scholarly performance of faculty members, or to meaningfully discriminate among them for tenure and promotion. If we’re not gutsy enough to insist on rigor and objective measures of scholarship in these new definitions, we will become the stewards of institutions in which it is difficult to delineate tenured faculty members from community activists, social workers, clergy, politicians and journalists.
In our enthusiasm to value diverse and innovative faculty activities, we must not lose sight of the fact that all activities are simply not created equal. There must be a measuring stick, a rigorous, empirical, scholarship-based measuring stick, that assesses the value and quality of the work faculty undertake. For the sake of illustration, I offer 2 examples of a “service-learning course”. The contrast here reflects the variability in implementation of approved courses that I’ve observed in the name of “diverse faculty work” in my own college:
CASE #1: Dr. Smith’s section of an approved Psychology service-learning course combines in-class work focused on generating research questions from peer-reviewed primary literature, with a service learning component in which the students volunteer in a battered women and children’s shelter while they are gathering observational data to test hypotheses generated in class. Students then examine the dataset, address the hypotheses they generated, and complete research papers and presentations based on their data and the literature.
CASE #2: Dr. Doe’s section of the same approved Psychology service-learning course takes a different approach. Students meet in class to talk about their expectations of what will happen and how they will feel when they go to the shelter to work. When they return to the classroom, they write “reaction papers” about their feelings and experiences and class discussions focus on what they think the causes of the Sociological challenges faced by the people in the shelter might be, and how they as citizens might help to solve them. They write a final paper based on these discussions and their reaction papers.
Case #1 demonstrates a scholarly approach to a service learning course, and Case #2 does not. As we expand or view of what faculty work is and should be, it’s critical that we learn the lesson illustrated by these cases; that not all “innovative, creative, and integrative” faculty activities are created equal. It’s great to find ways to value the great work faculty do that crosses and blurs the boundaries of the training I, for example, received 20 years ago, but there must still be a real, definable, scholarly anchor for valuing and evaluating these activities, and that is the part of the conversation that’s missing right now.
For tenure and promotion to retain their value, they cannot be entirely customizable, “one-size-fits-all” propositions, adaptable to the self-defined scholarship of each faculty member. Tenure and promotion are not and cannot be a feel-good exercise. We must tenure only active and highly competent scholars, innovative or not, and to assess their acheivements, including those that cross boundaries and mix things up a bit, using hallmarks of true scholarship that are accepted and defensible to our peers and society.
For higher education to evolvein the way we dream it will, we must create a balance between creativity and quality in faculty work. The challenge is to be flexible enough to appreciate and value innovative and high quality work, but also to be bold enough to set a high bar for our faculty to make sure our students have the experience they deserve.
There- I’ve said it.