Showing posts with label Academic freedom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Academic freedom. Show all posts

Monday, January 4, 2021

Academic writing choices – learning from blogging

by Pat Thomson, Patter: https://patthomson.net/2021/01/04/academic-writing-choices-learning-from-blogging/


I've been thinking about academic writing and blogging again. I've been wondering what we might learn from thinking about the writing that bloggers do.

Academic blogs are not all the same. They can be categorised in various ways. I've been thinking about categorising blogs as “action” - focusing on what they seem to want to do with and for their readers. So using “action’ as a lens, I immediately think of academic blogs that aim primarily to:

  • inform – these blogs report research. They might summarise, translate. They generally provide an argument about a key point arising from the research. They are often newspaper or journal like. They are likely to be short but can also be long reads. These are increasingly part of "public engagement" strategies.
  • review – these blogs evaluate published texts such as books, journal articles or research projects. Topics are generally located in a field and/or in a wider context familiar /of interest to readers.
  • report work in progress – these blogs often tell stories and are more magazine like. They are usually intended to inform and to gather an interested audience for the research. These too are often a "public engagement" strategy.
  • think in public – these blogs often share thinking stimulated by a particular topic. Writers may understand this blog as a way of doing "public intellectual" work.
  • provoke and debate – these blogs provide a reasoned opinion about a topic, often using research or literature. These blogs generally offer explanatory argument, can extend to essay like long reads or read more like print media op-ed pieces. They may focus on aspects of a particular topic and add to informed discussion about it. And they can extend to creative forms such as fiction and poetry. Like thinking in public, this too is "public intellectual" work.
  • share experience – these blogs offer first person accounts of events and experiences, may include references to readings. Writers often seek "fellow travellers”.
  • teach – these blogs offer resources that readers can explore and try out. They often have a strong explanatory bent. They may have a coaching or mentoring “flavour’ and overlap with blogs that -
  • offer advice – these blogs offer prescribed steps, tips and tricks, often in the form of lists and exhortations.

Some blogs of course offer a limited and selective combination of these actions - but their readers may be attracted primarily by, and to, only one of them. 

Inside the blog, turning the action in text, the writing. Individual academic bloggers, or a small blog team, often develop particular approaches to writing – or “voice” as it is sometimes called. Newspaper style blogs cant do this and so they have guidelines, and often offer strong editorial support, to ensure some consistency of style over and above word length. 

Bloggers might have preferences for writing that has:

  • a particular mode of address – is the reader addressed directly – as in “you” – or assumed and not mentioned at all.
  • writer presence – is the blog writer an “I” or an assumed absent presence? Writer presence can also be related to the larger associated question of how much is revealed about the “I” and their particular circumstances.  
  • ratio of active to passive voice – academic writing often uses a lot of passive voice; switching to writing more sentences which use active voice creates a less formal read and feel.
  • word choice – academic writing uses a lot of abstract terms (generally nominalisations or what Helen Sword calls zombie nouns).  Reducing abstract terms and translating them into plain English reduces the ‘nouniness’ (as Michael Billig calls it) of writing and makes it  more accessible. But including correct disciplinary terminology may be important if the aim of the blog is to inform, teach or review.
  • sentence length and variety – academic writing often uses long sentences with multiple clauses. Shortening sentences makes prose easier to read - and easier to gloss over. Varying sentence length may be important in retaining attention. But if the blog aims to review or inform, readers may be OK to deal with something that reads more like conventional academic prose, and even be insulted if the writing appears to “talk down” to them.
  • formality/informality and use of vernacular - using “speech-like” sentence constructions and popular terms, cultural references, scatological references etc can make a blog post read more or less like the writer is one of your friends, or someone you’d like to be your friend. If you are writing to inform, review, provoke, then friendship may or may not be what you have in mind.
  • referencing and links out – academic writing is characterised by its connections with traditions and literatures. These are most often provided through referencing and, depending on their number, can make the reader read more slowly. If the blog post reader expects something easy to get through, lots of referencing is a risk. But if the intent of the blog post is to inform, review, report work in progress, or provoke, then some degree of referencing is unavoidable. Are these connections to be provided through hyperlinks or to be made unavoidable and obvious through more conventional citation? 
  • invention of categories and terminology – researchers often invent new terms for their research results or for particular approaches or techniques they have developed. Is this blog to have a personal stamp through the use of particular set of terms? Teaching and advice blogs often generate a specific lexicon which mark them off from others.
  • use of anecdote – writers use anecdote as a means of engaging readers, presenting a way into an issue and/or illustrating an important point. Anecdote is used extensively in blogs which share experience, but is also used regularly for informing, reporting work in progress, teaching and providing advice. 
  • choice of images – most blogs use images, but variously. Reviews tend not to, and provocations and debates may not. Images may be integral to the substantive matter in reports of research. In most other blogs, images are used to illustrate a point, or to attract attention.  

So these are choices that blog writers need to consider. Together they constitute the particular personality of the blog. Now of course, most of these author choices apply to any form of academic writing, not just blogs. I am considering writing more about them in this new year.

I have a hunch that writing more about writing choices in blogs might help illuminate the variations and framings of what you can actually DO as an academic writer. And perhaps focusing on writer choices might help doctoral and early career researchers in particular consider how academic writing can be not a one thing, but many. 

Photo by Alex Knight on Unsplash

Monday, December 14, 2020

Feel free to disagree on campus … by learning to do it well

by Geoff Sharrock, The Conversation: https://theconversation.com/feel-free-to-disagree-on-campus-by-learning-to-do-it-well-151019

The French Review didn’t confirm a “free speech crisis” in Australian universities. But nor did its report last year confirm free speech was “alive and well”, as Universities Australia would have it. In many university policies the report found vague language, which could rule out voicing a view deemed offensive.

Most universities have updated their policies in response to the French Review’s Model Code on Freedom of Speech and Academic Freedom, and related amendments to higher education legislation are before the parliament. On Wednesday, the Walker Review of universities’ implementation of the code reported that many don’t fully reflect the code yet.

Sally Walker talking at a media conference
Former vice-chancellor Sally Walker has found policies are fully aligned with the French model code at nine universities, mostly aligned at 14, partly aligned at four and not aligned at six, with the rest still finalising their policies. Lukas Coch/AAP

However they fare on this, many will also recall the French Review’s observation:

A culture powerfully predisposed to the exercise of freedom of speech and academic freedom is ultimately a more effective protection than the most tightly drawn rule. A culture not so predisposed will undermine the most emphatic statement of principles.

Of course, universities promote respect for others’ rights, and civility more generally. They have a duty to foster the well-being of students and staff. But in the model code this doesn’t “extend to a duty to protect any person from feeling offended or shocked or insulted by the lawful speech of another”.

Like the Chicago Principles, the model code reflects legal limits on free expression, but doesn’t seek to enforce civility as a formal campus rule. It recognises universities as institutions where disagreement runs deep and where diverse views — even those some find offensive — should be exchanged freely and challenged openly.

So, apart from clarifying policy, how can universities promote a “free to disagree” culture on campus? Not just in name, but in norms?

Learning how to disagree well

One way may be to focus more on teaching students how to argue persuasively. On topics where positions are polarised,  ad hominem attacks are common. On the topic of climate change, for example, debates often slide into shouting matches between “deniers” and “zealots”. Or they may proceed mainly in the form of petty point-scoring, as in the recent US presidential debates.

To keep debates robust and constructive, it helps to recognise other diversionary tactics and defensive routines. My “Disagree Well On Campus” model (shown below — click to enlarge) calls on scholars to aim high.

Disagree Well On Campus model. For robust and open debate, aim high. Make your case at levels 1-2. Avoid (and recognise) level 3 tactics. Author provided

This means they should contest an opponent’s claims with logic and evidence, a level 2 counter argument. If they can do this well enough, the case at hand — whether mainstream or minority — may be refuted (or reframed, or reaffirmed) to a scholarly standard, level 1.

But, as the list of level 3 “dogmatic avoidance” tactics suggests, there are many ways to differ without resolving anything. At the low end, personal accusations and name-calling aren’t arguments in a level 2 sense. Often they signal a refusal to debate the substance of this kind of topic with that  kind of person.

Consider how your last big argument went. Was it level 1, 2 or 3?

Level 3 tactics explained

At level 3, the first two “appeal” tactics enlist support for a view by appealing to a higher authority or greater good (but how far do we rely on one, or prioritise the other?).

The next four “misdirection” tactics evade the point of an opponent’s view. This is done mainly by raising other concerns (but how relevant and significant are these to the main argument?).

The final three “exclusion” tactics withdraw the commitment to engage with an opponent’s viewpoint, or take it seriously, by casting doubt on their morality, sincerity or credibility.

At level 3, common avoidance tactics include “straw man” arguments (Misdirect 4). An opponent’s view is restated in a way that gives it unintended meanings. This caricature is then refuted, instead of the actual claim.

Another tactic is to cite a technical fact as a trump card, which seems to settle which side is right (Misdirect 2). But this may be a “red herring” that leads away from the point at issue (Misdirect 1). Or it may be an unreliable form of evidence. The phrase “lies, damned lies and statistics” refers to the use of carefully selected factoids to prop up or put down a case. Often this amounts to spin by omission, not the level of proof that independent experts would accept.

Another level 3 tactic is to take offence at the tone or terms of an opposing view, without addressing its substance (BadHom 1). This is more civil than calling someone an FBDZS — a fool, bigot, denier, zealot or snowflake (BadHom 3). But by shifting off-topic to invoke rules of civility, it offers scope to censor or end the exchange without conceding any substantive point.

protesters attempt to disrupt a speech on campus
Attempts have been made to disrupt speeches on some Australian university campuses. Brenton Edwards/AAP

‘Heretic protection’ on campus – but with rigour

Many debates mix level 2 and level 3 ways of arguing. Some are “won on the day” with level 3 tactics alone. But rhetorical point-scoring doesn’t amount to scholarly refutation.

Once a majority view seems settled on this basis, any dissenting minority view — even one with valid points to make — may become undiscussable. In a university context, this is where the principle of academic freedom does its work. As one scholar observes: “popular or mainstream ideas generally need no protection”.

As places of higher learning, universities assume responsibility for protecting free expression and open exchange when views diverge, while also promoting the practice of scholarly refutation. This stance affords “heretic protection” to minority views, while also exposing them to robust counter-argument.

As future leaders and experts, university graduates will need to reach and justify decisions that have wide real-world consequences. Often these decisions will be made in the face of firm opposition from many of those affected. Being able to argue clearly and persuasively, and to tell the difference between a well-reasoned case and slippery rhetoric, will be critical professional skills.

Monday, July 6, 2020

What academics misunderstand about ‘public writing’: popular writing should be as rigorous as scholarship — but much easier to read

by Irina Dumitrescu, The Chronicle of Hiogher Education: https://www.chronicle.com/article/What-Academics-Misunderstand/249108

iStock

Public writing can be a touchy subject. From one perspective, we are living in a golden age of public intellectualism. Today’s scholars have numerous ways to reach a broad audience — from online magazines hungry for fresh takes on the topics of the day to print magazines looking for authoritative essays. Writing coaches and programs such as the OpEd Project  offer training in how to pitch to general-interest publications, while grant agencies in Europe and North America increasingly require recipients to communicate with the public. To some scholars, public writing has even started to seem like yet another skill they are expected to master to stay competitive.
At the same time, academics often approach newspapers, magazines, and websites with assumptions drawn from the outlets we’re used to writing for: scholarly journals and, since the early 2000s, the blogs that flourish as a faster, more casual medium of scholarly exchange. Trying to write for the public can mean a series of unpleasant surprises about what happens to our work at every stage of editing and publication.

Even as readers, however, scholars tend to misunderstand how public writing — or as the public would call it, “writing” — works, what it’s for, and what makes it good. The result is both unnecessary frustration for academics making that first foray into newspapers and online outlets, and misplaced indignation among certain scholars who think their colleagues’ public essays should read just like scholarship.
In more than a decade of writing essays and reviews for the public, both in my academic wheelhouse and outside of it, I have gathered a number of lessons that I offer here to spare other freelance writers some pain and annoyance. My comments are specifically about the process of writing — sometimes with a contract, and preferably for pay — for editors at established print and online publications aimed at a general audience.
Control. As a scholar, you are used to having an enormous amount of say over your writing and how it is presented. It may not always feel that way, particularly when you are responding to Reader B and revising that article for the fifth time. Yet the final work represents your vision.
The moment you write for general-interest outlets, however, you are subject to their editorial vision. What that means in practical terms: Headlines, illustrations, and publication dates are decided for you. Sometimes the headline will misrepresent the article it accompanies, or exaggerate your message to attract clicks. Readers angered by the headline tend to direct their rage at you, the writer. In some cases, you will see the draft headline during the editing process, but it can still change after that point.

All of the above holds for art, too, which can range from subtly inaccurate to deeply offensive. The worst headlines usually appear online, but the good news is that you can sometimes persuade the editors at online outlets to change a particularly egregious headline.
Much the same goes for the publication date. Unless a piece is pegged to a quickly developing news event, it’s likely to go into a publication queue and appear anywhere from weeks to months later. That can be challenging for writers impatient to see their work appear. Even when an outlet gives you a publication date, it can be delayed without notice, either due to more pressing pieces or because the editors saved it for use with other articles on the same theme. In one case, I had a book review appear online as announced, but in print a month later.
Meanwhile, readers used to the fast publishing potential of  Medium or personal blogs might wrongly assume that a newly published essay reflects your current thinking, when, in fact, it may only reflect how you viewed the matter six months ago. Just as work in scholarly journals suffers from a time lag, so does much popular writing.
Even once your essay has been published, you may be surprised to find it syndicated to other outlets or translated into foreign languages — all without your knowledge or permission. In some cases you will receive a permission request and a fee for the reprint, but in others you will not even be informed.
Before you allow your work to be published by a particular venue, ask your editor to spell out the copyright arrangement (since it’s not always clear in the outlet’s “terms and conditions”). If the terms don’t include nonexclusive reprint rights, you can sometimes negotiate for that. Check the publication to make sure it fits your ethics, but know that the moment you agree to sell the rights, you have limited say over how your work will be presented.
Editing. Editors for general-interest publications usually like to play an active role in shaping articles, to an extent that can be bracing for scholars used to solitary writing. With a few exceptions, such as op-eds and literary essays, you will usually land assignments with a pitch outlining the story you plan to tell and how you will go about it. Most editors prefer a pitch to a draft, as it allows them input at an early stage of the work.
Once a draft is done, the fun really begins. Some editors make only general comments or tiny changes, while others revise the text intensively. We academics tend to be precious about our prose. It can be hard to receive a draft in which the editor has mercilessly slashed our darling paragraphs, rewritten our brilliant sentences, and inserted her own writing.
Viewing writing as a collaborative endeavor has been one of the most difficult lessons I have had to learn as a crossover writer. Once I learned not to be so prickly about what happened to my prose, however, I began to see the bright side. If you have a hands-on editor, you can ask for advice early in the process, and worry less about providing a perfect draft — the editor will work with you to improve it.
I knew I had reached a new point in my freelancing education when I received page proofs from a new publication and marveled that the editors had not changed a word. Later, when I compared the proofs to my original draft, I realized that every single sentence had been rewritten.
Style. Much has been written about bad academic prose, and I do not need to repeat it here. Even good academic prose, however, is ill suited to a general audience.

The habits we learn in writing scholarship serve us poorly in popular writing. Graduate school teaches us to craft our prose defensively — to ward off possible attacks from colleagues. We shy away from strong claims, watering down every sentence with “perhaps” or “one could say.” In the worst cases, we make our prose completely impenetrable, figuring that if our critics can’t understand what we’re saying, they won’t be able to tear it down. But the qualities that make scholarly writing unassailable turn off general readers.
One of our key defenses is citation, which is what makes it so unsettling to write something without footnotes — particularly if the essay is related to our research. A public-facing piece will not cite all of its sources. It may not cite any.
I have seen that prompt consternation among colleagues, who grumble that the foundational work of Professor X wasn’t mentioned in that (enviable) New Yorker feature written by Professor Z. But the public does not want to read about Professor X’s contributions. Readers of your general-interest essay don’t expect in-text citations of everything you read that went into writing it.
Purpose. Public writing has a different ethos from scholarly prose. We write scholarship to establish our credentials in a field, to lay stake to original claims, and to build a name for ourselves in the profession. For general-interest writing, however, you should follow Horace’s advice for poetry: Aim to instruct or delight — ideally, do both. Tell your readers a story, and give them the basic information they need to take it in. Avoid jargon for the most part, but teach your readers a key term when it will help them understand your topic better.
One genre that can be confusing in this respect is book reviews. They are an easy entry point into public writing, as they draw on skills that scholars already have. But the point of writing a book review for the public is not to show how clever you are or what typos you have caught in the text. Rather, it is to help readers decide if they want to buy the book, and to offer them insights and information to enjoy even if they choose not to.
To be fair, the most useful book reviews in academic journals do that, too, in their own register, but general publications usually are more interested in the experience of the reader than in the egos of the reviewer or the author whose work is being reviewed. This also means that if your book is the one being reviewed in a mainstream publication, you may be dismayed to find the “review” is an independent essay using your book as a hook. Try to appreciate the publicity.
Quality. Academics sometimes make the mistake of thinking that their standards do not need to be particularly high when writing for the public. Even though you will not be writing with the precision of scholarly prose or citing every source, you should still strive to be as accurate and careful as you would be in your scholarly publications, especially if you are drawing on your specialization.
A few mainstream publications still have fact-checking departments, but, in general, assume you bear full responsibility for ensuring the truth of what you write. You owe the public an even higher standard of rigor than you do your colleagues, since the public is more likely to trust your credentials and has less access to your sources. If you get proofs before publication, check them carefully to make sure that no inaccuracies have slipped in.
The uncomfortable reality is that — while crossover work counts for little in the way of raises or promotions in academe — it can still hurt your reputation if you do a sloppy job.
Given all of those warnings, why write for the public at all?
There are strategic reasons, such as raising your visibility or showing the relevance of your research. It is also satisfying to reach readers who are curious about your field, but do not have the training necessary to appreciate your scholarship. As a public scholar, you have the freedom to write about topics beyond your area of specialization, which in turn can enrich your research and teaching. Finally, many of the qualities that make for good public essays — clarity, conviction, style — can improve your scholarly writing too.
Irina Dumitrescu is professor of English medieval studies at the University of Bonn.

Monday, May 18, 2020

More Than 70% of Academics at Some Universities are Casuals. They’re Losing Work and are Cut Out of JobKeeper

The National Tertiary Education Union this week struck an agreement with universities that no ongoing university staff member would be stood down involuntarily without pay. This deal is contingent on staff above a certain pay grade taking a cut of up to 15% of their salary.
It’s still uncertain how many universities will sign up to the deal – the Australian Catholic University has already rejected it.
Casual and contract academics are most vulnerable to imminent job losses. By mid-2018, an estimated 94,500 people were employed at Australian universities on a casual basis, primarily in teaching-only roles.
The number of precariously employed academics has been estimated at 70% of teaching staff in some universities. At the University of Wollongong, for instance, around 75% of staff are in insecure work – a figure that includes both teaching and administrative workers.
And yet in March, the university had failed to ensure wage support for casual staff needing to self-isolate for any reason.
In April, one-third of casuals at the University of NSW had reported they’d lost work. This reportedly cost them an average A$626 a week, and 42% were working unpaid hours.
Casual academics are not eligible for the government’s JobKeeper payments due to rules that require more than 12 months continuous employment with an organisation that has lost between 30-50% of its revenue – effectively ruling universities out. Casual academics are often on short-term contracts, such as a semester-by-semester basis.
Under the NTEU agreement, displaced casual and fixed-term contract staff will be prioritised for new work. This approach leaves many staff in a position of increased precarity. The likelihood of new work emerging over the next few months is low, given the downturn in international student enrolments and uncertainties around conducting fieldwork research given social distancing policies.
This highly skilled yet vulnerable group need greater support from our government.

A vulnerable workforce

Some estimates place revenue losses at Australian universities at around A$19 billion over the next three years due to the COVID-19 pandemic. The university sector estimates this puts more than 21,000 jobs at risk over coming months, and countless more in the future.
The loss of international students is potentially catastrophic for the sector. An estimated A$2 billion in fees could be lost mid-year as international students are unable to arrive in Australia to start semester two studies.


Some universities, such as the University of Tasmania, have had to reduce the number of courses offered in 2021 to recoup funding. And universities have had to scale back spending, for example, on major construction works.
This week, Vice Chancellor of La Trobe University, John Dewar, said revenues could be A$150 millon under budget this year and up to A$200 million next year.
If this year’s required savings were to be made solely from staff cuts, this would require 200-400 job losses, he said. The 2021 budget gap could equate to 600-800 jobs.
In April, La Trobe and RMIT university had let go of hundreds of casual “non-essential” staff. Western Sydney University warned staff in April it would cut casual workloads as it faced mounting financial shortfalls over the next three years.
Despite these realities, both tenured and untenured academic staff are being asked to do more in teaching and research to support the country in the face of this pandemic. They are doing this with fewer resources.

What can be done?

Even before the NTEU agreement, many universities responded with clear policies and support in response to COVID-19. For example, executive staff at some universities – such as La Trobe and the The University of Wollongong – took a 20% pay cut, and froze any non-essential travel.
Many universities, such as Deakin, are providing paid leave for staff with caring responsibilities and paid isolation leave for those exposed to coronavirus. And others, like ANU and ACU, have extended benefits to their casual and contract staff. These include honouring existing contracts, paying sessional tutors despite reductions in teaching hours and paying casual staff to attend online professional development.


All workers need transparency around expectations and pay. But this is particularly important for casual staff, whose immediate and long-term work prospects are under threat despite having often spent years in universities building expertise. Although casual academics are on temporary contracts, some have been working for universities longer than their colleagues on continuing contracts.
In the United States a statement of solidarity started by 70 prominent academics has so far received more than 2,000 signatures. The signatories have refused to work with any university that does not support its staff.
Some might argue such declarations are performative. But our research interviews with precariously employed academics highlight how support from ongoing academic staff is critical to their experiences in academia. This includes their mental health, job prospects and future career paths.
Casual staff members already experience isolation and anxiety. Missing out on benefits such as special leave provisions extended to tenured staff while working from home may exacerbate this.
Breaks in an academic career or a lack of visibility – which could result from working from home, not holding a current contract or a lack of recent publications – can irrevocably damage future job prospects for any academic.
Tenured academics and leaders can make an enormous difference to non-tenured staff by being proactive in maintaining networks, ensuring transparent communication, providing mentoring and offering paid opportunities to co-author research publications.
The government has pledged to support employees from many other industries impacted by COVID, through policies like JobKeeper. As our third largest national export, higher education is crucial for building new knowledge and preparing our future workforce.
While the NTEU framework offers a starting point, further government funding is required to provide appropriate security to those who work on casual or fixed-term contracts in higher education.
Recognition of their work and clarity about prospects and pay can make a massive difference to the lives and careers of our non-tenured colleagues.