Freedom of Speech at the University
(Originally written for a panel discussion 'Free speech' in academia: between critical imperative and structural inequality, University of Birmingham, 9th March 2017)
Firstly I’d like to say thanks for inviting me to take part in this discussion. I’m really pleased to be here as a member of this University’s ‘non-academic’ staff. This debate is centred around the idea of the university as a critical space, and I suppose my starting point would be to question how much this is true and for who. The university is made up of many people who do not experience it as a hive of critical thought and debate… Retail staff, caterers, administrators, cleaners, manual labourers, security staff - the list goes on.
For most non-academic staff, the university is a place for doing what you are told, exactly as you are told to do it - where the critical mindset is actively discouraged, and even a dangerous thing to have. The university has been described as a ‘feudal enterprise’ where vast inequalities of privilege are clearly built into the hierarchy. From pay, to work flexibility, working conditions, and of course, freedom of speech.
Of course, I can only really speak from my own context as a member of the opaquely-named ‘professional services’. Professional services refers to pretty much all the jobs put here to support the business of academia (emphasis on the word business) such as admin, hr, finance, etc. Many of our jobs have evolved from the gendered secretarial labour of 70s/80s.. evolved in that there is greater autonomy and recognition of the work we do (both institutionally and by colleagues) which makes a big difference. However its still a majority female workforce and arguably 'feminine' in culture, in that it often involves creating a hospitable environment, minimising ourselves and accommodating the needs of others.
In the rare cases where someone is rude, ungrateful or disrespectful, we are encouraged to brush it off or respond politely. If someone comes in ranting to us, we should let them rant, it’s part of our supporting role. Today, this approach is described as being ‘customer focused’. One effect of this, which may resonate with teaching staff who are increasing expected to view students as paying customers - is that it implies a distribution of power that favours the customer. Of course, we all know that real power doesn’t truly lie with the customer, but with the much less visible, higher powers of ‘head office’.
Within this dynamic professional services staff can feel like powerless mediators between the customer (students/academic staff) and head office or central teams. We are not here to be critical, we are here to enforce systems imposed from above. Resistance, or criticism is, supposedly futile.
The very notion of being ‘professional’ is at odds with a sense of freedom. Being professional means presenting the most inoffensive version of yourself, even acting as a projection of the organisation.
These feelings of powerlessness, the pressure to be professional, or the ‘customer focused’ approach affect academic staff too, but speaking to colleagues there is definitely a sense that we are seen by our employers as lower down the hierarchy. As a result, it’s felt that the complaints of academics colleagues will be taken more seriously than ours, and that our academic colleagues are entitled to a greater degree of free speech than us. Staff in this school are generally a pleasure to work with, but it’s evidently more acceptable for them to be eccentric, political, angry, to swear, be blunt or curt.
Although I take issue with notions of professionality, I have to admit that I am sometimes grateful for it’s constraining effects on other people. I feel safer knowing that the institution - on a policy level at least - discourages us from using sexist, racist or discriminatory language. In theory, I would have institutional backing to call this out if I did see it. The question, however, of whether I would feel entitled to call this out - or whether there is a culture of this - is another matter all together.
I’m reminded here of an incident recounted to me by a friend - whereby a cleaner in her building would make comments about her and her colleagues appearance whenever they walked in the building. It made them feel uncomfortable, so they reported him to his manager. It’s good that they felt able to do this. But I do wonder what impact his position on the perceived social hierarchy - or the very real hierarchy of pay-grade - had on her willingness to call him out. Would she have been so inclined to report the sleazy/fliratious comments by the director of her organisation, or a prestigious visitor? In fact I don’t want to call her judgment of the situation into account, but it is an interesting thought experiment.
I remember hearing this quote around the time of the Charlie Hebdo attacks: ‘Satire must comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable’. Perhaps the same could be a guide for political correctness or ideas about ‘safe spaces’. Maybe for some people, who are at the top, with most of their basic needs comfortably met, virtually untouchable by the law, it’s okay to view absolute freedom of speech is one privilege too far? If, however, we are more inclined to call out junior or less-well paid colleagues or peers than those with power, then there is a real problem.
Fortunately, its one that with effort, we can address. How? Firstly, we need to stop believing that we are powerless. Secondly, we need to use whatever privilege we do have to challenge hierarchical structures. I think the small stuff really counts here. For example, one thing I’ve noticed that I do, is laugh when someone says something that I find uncomfortable or inappropriate. (God forbid I should make them feel uncomfortable!) My own commitment here is to make an effort to stop doing this, and try to voice my discomfort.
Thanks for listening.
Firstly I’d like to say thanks for inviting me to take part in this discussion. I’m really pleased to be here as a member of this University’s ‘non-academic’ staff. This debate is centred around the idea of the university as a critical space, and I suppose my starting point would be to question how much this is true and for who. The university is made up of many people who do not experience it as a hive of critical thought and debate… Retail staff, caterers, administrators, cleaners, manual labourers, security staff - the list goes on.
For most non-academic staff, the university is a place for doing what you are told, exactly as you are told to do it - where the critical mindset is actively discouraged, and even a dangerous thing to have. The university has been described as a ‘feudal enterprise’ where vast inequalities of privilege are clearly built into the hierarchy. From pay, to work flexibility, working conditions, and of course, freedom of speech.
Of course, I can only really speak from my own context as a member of the opaquely-named ‘professional services’. Professional services refers to pretty much all the jobs put here to support the business of academia (emphasis on the word business) such as admin, hr, finance, etc. Many of our jobs have evolved from the gendered secretarial labour of 70s/80s.. evolved in that there is greater autonomy and recognition of the work we do (both institutionally and by colleagues) which makes a big difference. However its still a majority female workforce and arguably 'feminine' in culture, in that it often involves creating a hospitable environment, minimising ourselves and accommodating the needs of others.
In the rare cases where someone is rude, ungrateful or disrespectful, we are encouraged to brush it off or respond politely. If someone comes in ranting to us, we should let them rant, it’s part of our supporting role. Today, this approach is described as being ‘customer focused’. One effect of this, which may resonate with teaching staff who are increasing expected to view students as paying customers - is that it implies a distribution of power that favours the customer. Of course, we all know that real power doesn’t truly lie with the customer, but with the much less visible, higher powers of ‘head office’.
Within this dynamic professional services staff can feel like powerless mediators between the customer (students/academic staff) and head office or central teams. We are not here to be critical, we are here to enforce systems imposed from above. Resistance, or criticism is, supposedly futile.
The very notion of being ‘professional’ is at odds with a sense of freedom. Being professional means presenting the most inoffensive version of yourself, even acting as a projection of the organisation.
These feelings of powerlessness, the pressure to be professional, or the ‘customer focused’ approach affect academic staff too, but speaking to colleagues there is definitely a sense that we are seen by our employers as lower down the hierarchy. As a result, it’s felt that the complaints of academics colleagues will be taken more seriously than ours, and that our academic colleagues are entitled to a greater degree of free speech than us. Staff in this school are generally a pleasure to work with, but it’s evidently more acceptable for them to be eccentric, political, angry, to swear, be blunt or curt.
Although I take issue with notions of professionality, I have to admit that I am sometimes grateful for it’s constraining effects on other people. I feel safer knowing that the institution - on a policy level at least - discourages us from using sexist, racist or discriminatory language. In theory, I would have institutional backing to call this out if I did see it. The question, however, of whether I would feel entitled to call this out - or whether there is a culture of this - is another matter all together.
I’m reminded here of an incident recounted to me by a friend - whereby a cleaner in her building would make comments about her and her colleagues appearance whenever they walked in the building. It made them feel uncomfortable, so they reported him to his manager. It’s good that they felt able to do this. But I do wonder what impact his position on the perceived social hierarchy - or the very real hierarchy of pay-grade - had on her willingness to call him out. Would she have been so inclined to report the sleazy/fliratious comments by the director of her organisation, or a prestigious visitor? In fact I don’t want to call her judgment of the situation into account, but it is an interesting thought experiment.
I remember hearing this quote around the time of the Charlie Hebdo attacks: ‘Satire must comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable’. Perhaps the same could be a guide for political correctness or ideas about ‘safe spaces’. Maybe for some people, who are at the top, with most of their basic needs comfortably met, virtually untouchable by the law, it’s okay to view absolute freedom of speech is one privilege too far? If, however, we are more inclined to call out junior or less-well paid colleagues or peers than those with power, then there is a real problem.
Fortunately, its one that with effort, we can address. How? Firstly, we need to stop believing that we are powerless. Secondly, we need to use whatever privilege we do have to challenge hierarchical structures. I think the small stuff really counts here. For example, one thing I’ve noticed that I do, is laugh when someone says something that I find uncomfortable or inappropriate. (God forbid I should make them feel uncomfortable!) My own commitment here is to make an effort to stop doing this, and try to voice my discomfort.
Thanks for listening.