Never the twain shall meet
“There is no adequate defence, except stupidity, against the impact of a new idea.”
- Percy Williams Bridgman
University science and engineering department academic staff and students are certainly good at coming up with new ideas. Evidence of this comes from the large number of PhD theses and technical publications that are produced. UK universities are, in fact, particularly good at research. This may be due to the streak of creativity and individualism that tends to be part of the British character. We do have a tendency to want to do our own thing – which explains why the UK publishes more books per capita than any other country and why UK universities are surprisingly good at ‘research on a shoestring’ - producing some pretty good research outputs and at a relatively low cost.
‘Punching above our weight’ in research may also be helped by the UK habit of often employing unusual methods or creative solutions for minimising expenses in research. In some sectors (e.g. motorway building), working on a shoestring and doing things in a piecemeal fashion is perhaps not a good approach and can lead to higher long-term costs, but for scientific research it can often pay dividends – particularly if the researchers have apparatus that may be somewhat simple or less advanced technologically, but for which they fully appreciate the intricacies and can really make ‘sing’. So, one thing we can say is that the British are good at scientific research – in fact, they have a bit of a flair for it.
But are we as good at applying the research; in other words, can UK universities demonstrate exceedingly strong research impact? In order to do so, we need to get over the Valley of Death . But you may ask, what is the Valley of Death? I mean, we know what Death Valley is – a large national park in California where, in 1913, the highest ever ambient air temperature of 56.7 °C (134 °F) was recorded at Furnace Creek.
I really like Death Valley, by the way. It has a particularly unworldly atmosphere; Martian-like I would say. If you, like me, are a fan of the original Twilight Zone TV series, then it is fun to seek out the exact locations in Death Valley where various episodes were filmed. The last time I was there, in 2018, the temperature was 52 °C. They call it a ‘dry heat’ but, believe me, 52 degrees is hot, dry or not; and I don’t know if it wasn’t some kind of record – if it’s not it should be.
Again, apologies for the digression; let’s get back to the Valley of Death – which refers to the difficulties people have in taking a new concept/product, that may be quite developed, and turning it into a saleable item. Thinking again about the British character, I believe it may have one aspect to it that is not particularly helpful here – I refer to the British tendency to be reserved. When one first goes to America, one can be struck by how forward and loud people are. In fact, this can be so extreme that the persons concerned can often seem to be being aggressive, although nearly always they are not trying to be so.
Death Valley: a desert valley located in Eastern California, in the northern Mojave Desert. (Photograph by the author.)
There is little doubt that, generally speaking, the British are quieter and more reserved than most dudes from, say, the West Coast. And while being thoughtful and cautious may be commendable characteristics for a science researcher, they are probably not such great virtues for a salesman. In order to set up a small company and launch an entirely new product, one not only has to be convinced of the utility of it, but it also helps to exude perhaps sometimes almost irrational levels of enthusiasm and righteous confidence in the product and oneself (as you can imagine, such qualities are less useful for objectively quantifying scientific truths).
Another problem in the UK is that there seems to be less willingness to take a punt on something new; and, particularly, there is noticeably less of a tradition for universities to form genuinely close and useful collaborations with companies. The blame for this cannot, though, all be laid at the feet of the universities concerned. For example, in my job as a professor at a university, I often say that companies seem to think that the university is a charity (i.e. that we can do things with no, or very little, resourcing), but although it is technically a charity, it’s not a charity (if you know what I mean). There also appear to be fewer examples in the UK of academics launching successful spin out companies (perhaps with the exception of one or two universities). Reasons for this, I believe, range from the natural reserve mentioned above, coupled with a general conservatism, as well as the way that most UK universities are run. Unfortunately, most British universities suffer heavily from institutional navel-gazing, which is currently being accentuated by the levels of administration and middle management that they are increasingly being saddled with (with a large dose of political correctness and, often, Marxist ideology, thrown in). There are likely to be a number of reasons for the self-obsession prevalent at UK universities. Probably principal amongst them is the tradition for many UK institutions, and particularly ones that have public-sector origins, to be inward-looking (conspicuous examples of this include the BBC and the NHS). This, coupled with the fact that actually undertaking research is difficult, dealing with companies more difficult (particularly as a result of the ‘culture shock’ that can result, for reasons that are touched upon above), and securing money for resourcing more difficult still (and becoming increasingly so as purse-strings tighten and competition increases), means that many academics prefer to simply avoid research. A consequence of fewer academics undertaking research is that the idea of ‘it’s OK, someone else can do it’ can start to prevail. This leads to a generally increased lack of research and consequently technological innovation and progress. In other words, it is part of the reason why I can’t take the rocket to Mars. Much can be, and has been, written about this concept of ‘someone else can do the actual work’ and its implications for the economy – including a whole book – and as soon as I can remember the author and title of it I will give it a read...
Everyone, at heart, would prefer to give advice rather than to take it. Also, who wants to experience the emotional rollercoaster ride of trying to publish papers and win grant funding – especially when for most academics the ride seems to spend most of its time going down rather than up. In short, who wants to spend a lot of time screaming?!
Every research active academic, no matter how successful he or she may be, will have had plenty of experience of rejection by reviewers. (As I keep saying to my colleagues: ‘The most successful researchers are the ones who have had the most rejections.
The emotional roller coaster of publishing papers and winning grant funding. (Illustration by the author.)
And I keep quoting Churchill: ‘Success consists of going from failure to failure without a loss of enthusiasm’; and I keep waking up in a cold sweat: ‘Aaahhhhg…’ Sorry about that.) At the same time, as outlined below, many university executives are staffed by middle managers, who naturally tend to find it difficult to relate to or trust academics and researchers. Considering these factors, it is no surprise that administration in many universities is expanding in size and reach. To some extent, this is useful in that it can provide support for academics in following the procedures and paperwork that are associated with any academic endeavour. It does, however, become less of a blessing when the rules and paperwork are exploding in volume and when the utility or need for much of the additional complexity is not clear. Also, it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that if I were to decide to devote my professional life to university administration activity (which I will refer to as admin), I would be likely to be pre-disposed to creating more of it at an increased level of complexity. The other great bane of the life of an academic is meetings, particularly meetings relating to university admin. My conviction, borne of experience, is that Elon Musk was right in telling his staff that if they are in a meeting which they do not feel to be making progress towards being useful then it is OK to leave. Holding a meeting is not an end in itself – it has to be moving towards a useful outcome. It really has. Talking is of limited use if it does not lead to a practical conclusion – there must be a genuinely useful discussion and it needs to make progress towards resolving one or more important/pressing issues. You might think this is so obvious as to not need stating, but in my experience of around 30 years of being involved with educators and attending their meetings, I have to say that it does need stating. And repeating. Notwithstanding all these comments about the managerial and admin culture in our universities, it has to be admitted that most universities do understand, to some extent, that academics and researchers need assistance in bringing the results of their research to market and commercial exploitation. This is indeed not easy to achieve, but the difficulty is compounded by the insular and parochial approach that the university is likely to take concerning technology transfer, simply by virtue of it being a public sector institution. For example, the university is likely to employ many staff to, in various ways, assist with technology transfer or exploitation, but because of the previously mentioned lack of trust in academics, they are unlikely to submerge/implant the majority of these support staff. Instead they will be in separate buildings, not understanding the real issues and problems the academics face and thereby not being able to provide effective support. Again, this may seem a matter of detail rather than a critical issue, but it goes to the heart of the reasons why UK universities find it so hard to commercialise their research and to compete in this respect with US universities.
Many academics, quite understandably, do not wish to experience the disappointment associated with rejection of their grant applications – each of which is likely to have absorbed a great deal of time and effort. But what options are there for such a person? One, of course, is to undertake only teaching, resulting in the attendant drawbacks discussed above. The other is for them to become heavily involved in university admin, of which there are two types: general admin and research admin. The former is necessary for the university to function; but a heavy emphasis on it has similar consequences to if the academic were to be fully immersed in teaching (however admin might offer more opportunity for promotion into senior roles for attaining significant salary increases). Research admin refers to administration activities related to undertaking research. Again, as mentioned, this is required to some degree (excuse the pun) – for example, academic regulations are needed for research, to ensure that candidates for degrees such as PhD do actually undertake research, and follow procedures appropriate for that level of research. However, perhaps one of the main threats to the quality and quantity of research being undertaken is the explosion in the volume of research admin that has been occurring for some years in British universities and which is currently accelerating. Why is this happening? Well, as outlined above, research is difficult to do. Everybody knows that it is easier to critique what others are doing rather than undertake anything especially useful or creative yourself. It’s easier to give advice than to take it and act effectively upon it. Then, once an academic has decided upon a career in research admin, what could be more natural than that they should wish to make as much of it as he or she is able? A kind observer would say that they are endeavouring to cover the increasing requirements of modern research governance, while a less-kind one would say that they are justifying their job. In any case, as the amount of research admin increases dramatically, the chances for those who wish to actually undertake research, of getting some high-impact work done, diminish. The expanding research admin can take the form of increased numbers and complexities of forms that need to be filled out (some of which may never actually be used for anything), an astronomical increase in the number and length of meetings that are held (which often seem to be effectively duplicating each other), and an increase in the number and complexity of online research admin information systems (e.g. for research governance). Such systems can often involve duplication as well as delving into complex subjects that they do not need to address. For example, research governance information systems are increasingly asking researchers about the details of their research methodology, but often such information is not needed within the scope of the system. An example would be a project in science and engineering that models data using deep learning, where the question of why the modelling is being done may have ethical questions associated with it, but the exact detail of the techniques used is not needed and also would require a very complex and detailed explanation (as would be the case if a convolutional neural network were to be employed).
Therefore, there are two main aspects to the concept of never the twain shall meet when it comes to research in UK universities. The first has to do with the culture difference between the way the organisations themselves operate – specifically the public-sector universities vs. private sector companies. This aspect results in UK research having much less impact than it ought to and is capable of having. The second aspect relates specifically to university academics and involves formation of two groups – those who are research active and those who are not. A pronounced differentiation in this regard has implications for the reputation of the university and the priorities of one group can influence the other, as mentioned above. However, this differentiation also has other effects that may be more noticeable in the shorter term and which can have on-going influences on very large sections of society.
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Newly graduated university students. (Pixabay Pexels photograph by Andrea Piacquadio, used with permission of Pexels.)
Nowadays more than fifty per cent of young people are going to university (twenty years after Tony Blair set the target as Labour policy), and so university education is becoming a subject of more importance for society. In the UK, people are very keen on pigeonholing others and also, in fact, themselves. This perhaps results from the still influential idea of the class system. People tend to wish to identify with a particular class - it makes the world easier to understand and particularly one’s place in it. Or maybe it is a hangover from the feudal system that was so dominant years ago and which, to some extent, still survives today – witness the apparent popularity of the monarchy in Britain. However, in the case of universities, the pigeonholing of staff into research and teaching means that many universities are missing out on all the research opportunities that could arise from identifying and nurturing research-able students and encouraging them to undertake PhDs. The pigeonholing is thus intrinsically detrimental to the university concerned, and for the learning experience of the students. For example, the less research that a university undertakes, the less right it has, in truth, to the appellation ‘university’. The research-reduction situation can form into a vicious circle, with less academics being research active, and when they are senior this naturally means there is less incentive for others to undertake significant research. If such a university is not careful, it will consequentially transform into a glorified teaching college; and having spoken to professors from various UK universities I believe this is already occurring at a number of institutions. Research can also inform teaching and improve the quality of the learning experience. I have witnessed the interest sparked amongst students when they see products being marketed that are based upon the state-of-the-art methods that they are learning. Also, lecturers being able to share and discuss their journal papers and conference presentations gives students an assurance that they are learning about the latest research developments.  In contrast to this, if a more ‘teaching college’ approach is dominant, where lecturers tend not to be research active, then students can become aware that the teaching is employing more of a ‘from a book’ methodology and this can limit their inspiration and desire to explore a career in the subject area. So, to summarise, having a large proportion of university teachers who are not research active does not benefit the student experience. But what is the situation in the universities that are more research active? They can certainly enjoy the symbiotic benefits of the cross-fertilisation between research and teaching, but how good is the teaching, really, at these institutions? Actually, it turns out that it is not that good on average and many departments in such universities struggle to get awarded ‘gold’ standards for teaching (or in some cases, even silver). But why is this? I have quite a long experience of being a student, researcher, lecturer, and professor at a range of universities in the UK. My belief, stemming from this experience, is that the problem with quality of teaching in the highly research active (or ‘top 50’ or ‘red brick’) universities is, surprisingly, that they are perhaps too research active! By this I mean that many academics are keen to do research but quite often wish to avoid teaching. When they do condescend to lecture, they often wish to talk mainly about their own research. This would be fine if it were not for the unfortunate human tendency to wish to ‘big oneself up’ – often at the expense of student understanding. Such a mean sentiment can take many forms, such as explaining the simplest concepts in a complex way, or the tendency, as discussed above, of couching ideas in complex mathematics and placing this in front of a straightforward explanation of the ideas involved. All this can make lectures at many ‘top’ universities pretty inaccessible and of limited utility for many of the students. And when combined with a tendency to be rather too ‘up on oneself’ to spend much time on teaching, or to answer too many questions, you have a recipe for a less than ideal learning experience. So, what is the answer to all these possible problems? Well the solution is perhaps relatively simple to express but perhaps less easy to implement. Certainly, the way forward seems to be to have greater percentages of academics being research active across a wider range of universities in the UK. But equally importantly, these academics need to be quite integrated with the teaching experience rather than isolated; and the importance of accessibility and practical utility concerning the way in which their research should be brought into their teaching to inform it, in a symbiotic way, cannot be over-stated.
Having digressed into this discussion of issues surrounding the quality of the learning experience at various UK universities, let’s return to the earlier subject of why UK industry is not benefiting as much from UK university research as would be expected (especially considering the fact that, overall, UK universities do a good deal of research on relatively modest budgets). As mentioned above, there are various cultural and traditional management-related issues that may be making it difficult for many universities to produce high impact from their research. Perhaps many of these considerations can, to some extent, be summarised by the concept of academics still being somewhat in their ‘ivory towers’. However, I believe this is only part of the overall picture. There is, after all, a good deal of quality applied research being undertaken in UK universities – it would not be right to say it all comprises window-dressing. What is stopping this research from creating new products/systems that can be launched in the marketplace? I believe it is the result of a combination of all the effects discussed above with a phenomenon that seems to dominate much of modern life in the West – specifically, political correctness.
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The academic ivory tower: “a metaphorical place—or an atmosphere—where people are happily cut off from the rest of the world in favour of their own pursuits, usually mental and esoteric ones” (Wikipedia). (Illustration by the author.)