Friday, October 4, 2013
It’s all about the funding …
Just
moments ago another advertisement for an academic position came across my desk
with the words “must have a strong track record in fund-raising”. There was no
mention of proven teaching ability or published research. This seems to be an escalating trend in
universities. A few months ago I had a meeting with a university administrator
to talk about what counts towards getting tenure as a faculty member. I was basically told recruiting students and
developing programs didn’t count; neither did mentoring students whether
graduate or undergraduate. Leadership in, and recognition by, professional
societies – doesn’t count. Poor teaching evaluations would count against you,
likewise if you weren’t producing at least a few peer-reviewed publications a
year. But the number one criterion
seemed to be getting money for the university through outside research grants,
and only research grants – getting money for the university through attracting
meetings to the campus, from having popular and well attended classes, or
through attracting more students to the university, basically didn’t matter.
That meeting left me
dismayed and depressed about the future of the university. I came back to
academia after working for an environmental NGO, which I left because I was frustrated
at spending the majority of my time raising money for administrative costs
instead of achieving the aims of the organization (i.e. marine conservation).
What I wanted to be doing was using my scientific knowledge to make an impact,
helping to conserve threatened species and also trying to inspire and train
young conservation scientists to make a difference. I thought that a university
would be the best place for this. The above administrator made me feel like I
was working for a business where making a profit was more important that
education, intellectual innovation or making the world a better place.
Around
the same time one of my graduate students informed me that a faculty instructor
had advised a class to do research, not in what intellectually inspired them,
or what they felt was important, but “where the funding is best.”
Over
the past two decades government funding for research across the board has
steadily decreased (when adjusted for inflation; Skyler 2013). With government
budget freezes, sources of funding for external research projects are
declining, have been completely axed, or the government agency employees are
applying for them themselves to maintain projects and staff – with insider
knowledge that makes it effectively impossible for outside academics to compete
for these grants. Foundations are still offering grants, but government
agencies are also applying for these grants to make up budget shortfalls,
increasing competition for academics. Likewise non-governmental organizations,
which may historically have been a source of funding for academics, especially
those of an environmental bent, are now competing with academics for grants, as
opposed to offering them, with increasing numbers of staff specifically
dedicated to this task.
The
budgetary forecast for government funding looks increasingly bleak as, with an
expanding and ageing population, more government funds will have to be
dedicated to programs such as Medicare/Medicaid and Social Security. The only area
of government funding that seems to be unaffected is military spending, and
military-oriented research (Skyler 2013). Linked to these spending forecasts,
funds will also be available for biomedical research. The pharmacological
industry will stand to benefit from an increasing and ageing population, and
associated increased healthcare spending.
There
is a science-fiction series on television at the moment called Continuum. The show portrays a dystopian future where everything is run by
corporations and the military. Is that what we are heading towards in academia,
where faculty will be pressured to do research with military or medical
applications so that one day these will be the only research fields? Already
the university’s greed for external grants is stifling my academic freedom – I
have been pushed by certain Deans in the past to develop grants and write proposals
for topics I am not particularly interested in or don’t think are important,
just because there is funding available and a possible overhead for the
university. Conducting projects that interest me, and may actually have big
impacts in terms of environmental practice and management, is effectively
looked down upon by the powers that be because they don’t bring big money into
the university coffers. This financial situation also encourages a climate
where overheads, salary and equipment go to university coffers instead of, for
example, financially struggling graduate students or conservation practitioners
and environmental groups in the developing countries where many of my projects
are based.
I
returned to academia because I wanted to find out why things happened the way
they did, and because I had ideas about the way animals or people behaved, and
because there were threats to the environment and I wanted to test if my
hypotheses about them were correct. I didn’t want to spend my life filling in
forms and making up budgeting spreadsheets, although I was willing to do that
to a reasonable degree. If I had wanted to spend most of my time doing that, I
would have become an accountant. It’s not the best use of my academic training
and brain cells.
The
current model of university research funding is unsustainable. US government
projections for expenditure are going to be increasingly invested in health
care and the military. Moreover, industry will quite frankly use their own
scientists, so we can’t look to them for funding in the future – their in-house
scientists are cheaper, faster and will give them the answers they want, not the
answers the data support. Not only will this future environment restrict the
range of research projects that are pursued, but there will be increasing corporate
influence over the interpretation and disclosure of results.
Skyler, J. 2013. Why you don’t “Fucking Love Science”. Published 17 Sept 2013. http://www.johnskylar.com/post/61507282912/why-you-dont-fucking-love-science
Whitehead, H. and Weilgart, L.
1995. Marine mammal science, the U.S. Navy and academic freedom. Marine Mammal Science 11: 260-263.
Weilgart, L., Whitehead, H.,
Rendell, L. and Calambokidis, J. 2004.
Response to “Resonance and Dissonance: Science, Ethics, and Sonar Debate”. Marine Mammal Science 20: 898-899.
Wright,
A.J., Dolman, S., Jasny, M., Parsons, E.C.M., Schiedek, D. and Young, S. 2013.
Myth and momentum: A critique of environmental impact assessments. Journal of Environmental Protection 4 (8A2): 72-77.
The sequester and conservation science
The budget
sequester has limited federal spending, but the penny pinching has impacted conservation. The Society for Conservation Biology (SCB), the international
professional body for conservation scientists, estimated that because of the
sequester at least 200 federal conservation scientists who normally attended
could not go to this year’s International Congress for Conservation Biology
(the largest meeting specifically for conservation scientists) in Baltimore.
Even though the congress was so close to DC, many federal scientists were
prohibited from attending, even ones who volunteered to do so in their own
time, on their own dime. The sequester also resulted in government agencies
reneging on pledges for funding. The SCB estimated that they had lost a minimum
$150,000 because of the sequester that could have gone to conservation projects
or helping developing country conservation scientists or students. The total cost to conservation
is incalculable however, when you consider lost opportunities to make vital
connections with leaders in the conservation field, and to discover and learn
the latest conservation science knowledge and cutting-edge techniques.
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