Policy Futures in Education

Volume 11 Number 6 2013

www.wwwords.co.uk/PFIE

Activist Academics: what future?

SANDRA J. GREY
School of Social and Cultural Studies,
Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand

ABSTRACT Four decades on from the Year of the Student, when university campuses were sites of
protest and dissent, it is crucial to consider how the involvement of university academics in activist
causes has changed. Using social movement frameworks this article examines how organisational,
political and cultural contexts have hindered social and political activism by New Zealand academics.
Declining resources and increased accountability mechanisms in the tertiary education sector have
intersected with a cultural context dominated by pragmatism and instrumentalism to constrain
activism by academics. Despite these constraints, the author argues that it is crucial for academics to be
involved in forms of day-to-day resistance and to establish ongoing connections to activist
organisations in order to challenge the hegemonic narratives of marketisation and managerialism
which are impacting on all parts of New Zealand society, including universities.

Introduction
Four decades on from the Year of the Student, a time when university campuses internationally
were sites of political and social activism, it is useful to examine the link between those who work
in academic institutions and social movements. The turbulent years that followed 1968 have
resulted in the creators of popular culture replaying to the world images of student protests such as
the Greensboro lunch counter sit-in and the anti-Vietnam war teach-ins. Idealised images of
universities as the centre of radical activism and social progress were sparked by events such as the
signing of the Port Huron Statement. The statement outlined how students sought to end poverty,
racism and imperialism through non-violent protest, education and uniting student organisations
and outside communities:
The statement claimed that the role of the intellectual activist was central to social change.
Heavily influenced by the writings of C. Wright Mills and Howard Zinn, the statement had an
existential, if utopian, commitment to direct action, and was literally handed across the [United
States] as thousands of university students at hundreds of universities distributed it to their
colleagues. (Boren, 2001, p. 142)
But is there a place for ‘intellectual activists’ in twenty-first-century universities?
My reflections on the space for activist academics began when my managers at Victoria
University of Wellington raised concerns about how much time I was giving to research with
community and voluntary-sector organisations, rather than focusing on internationally peer-
reviewed publications. Questions about whether academics as part of their normal working lives
could take part in political debates and movements were again raised in 2009 when I became
involved in the Campaign for MMP which successfully fought to retain mixed-member
proportional representation as New Zealand’s electoral system. My involvement in this single-issue
campaign came out of academic analysis which demonstrated that MMP was the most democratic
voting system for New Zealand at this time. I was surprised that other political scientists did not
prioritise this crucial public debate as part of their workloads. When prompted, colleagues

700 http://dx.doi.org/10.2304/pfie.2013.11.6.700
Activist Academics

frequently stated they could not be involved in the MMP campaign as they needed to concentrate
on peer-reviewed publications in the lead up to New Zealand’s research evaluation exercise. I have
repeatedly heard similar narratives working as the president of the Tertiary Education Union in
2011 and 2012.
I am not alone in questioning whether academics are able to play active roles in the public
sphere. Concerns about the ability of academics to be involved in public debate are found in the
work of scholars studying the ‘critic and conscience’ function of universities in New Zealand (see
Bridgman, 2007; Shore, 2008, 2010) and in international literature on the tertiary education sector
(Calavita 2002; Karger & Hernandez 2004; Burawoy, 2005; Turner 2006). And concerns have been
raised outside the academy. For example, at a 2009 public meeting in Wellington, a panel of leading
authors and the Chief Censor expressed a sense of unease that there is no lively or active debate
going on in society. Author Nicky Hager asked why was it so quiet. Why are our public servants,
scientists, universities, media and the community and voluntary sector so quiet? We cannot argue
that there is censorship, but could we argue that there is self-censorship? And in a radio programme
in 2012 (Media Watch, 12 February), participants asserted that New Zealand academics were absent
from the global financial crisis debate.
In this article I will use social movement frameworks to shed light on the factors hindering
social and political activism by New Zealand academics. The first social movement framework
used comes out of North America and focuses on the institutional factors that lead to, and
constrain, social movement activism. The second comes from Europe and focuses on how cultural
contexts affect social movements.
Resource mobilisation researchers assert that social movements flourish when they have
adequate resources – the people, time and capital resources needed to mount challenges to political
and social elites. Researchers look at the way organisational dynamics, leadership and resource
management affect movements (Denton, 1998). However, resources alone do not generate social
movements (sustained challenges seeking social and political change [Grey & Sawer, 2009]) -
movements are affected by the political opportunity structures of the society in which they
operated (McAdam, 1996, Meyer 2003, 2004; Oliver & Myers, 2003). Drawing on the work of
Sidney Tarrow (1998), I will look at five interrelated clusters of variables which impact on social
movements: the degree of openness in the polity; the stability of political alignments; the presence
of allies and support groups; divisions within the relevant elite; and repression or facilitation of
dissent by the state.
The European framework for analysing social movements focuses on the ways movements
build community and change cultural understandings (Staggenborg & Taylor, 2005, p. 40) and the
way that culture constrains the development of social movement claim-making and activities
(Johnston & Klandermans, 1995). Social movements are situated within larger political, social and
cultural contexts that may be either conducive to or impede movement goals and success over
time (Oselin & Corrigall-Brown, 2010, p. 512).

Justifying Political and Social Activism by University Academics

Before examining the resources, opportunity structures and cultural influences which shape
activism by New Zealand academics, it is important to look at justifications for faculty involvement
in social and political movements. The most common justification for university academics to be
engaged in public debate is the legislated ‘critic and conscience’ function of universities (NZ
Education Act 1989, S162). But fulfilling the role of critic and conscience is not the same as being an
activist in a social movement. Activism involves deliberately and consciously dissenting against the
status quo, against hegemonic discourses. It is a role centred on engendering substantive
democracy in all spheres of society: ‘This asserts that in a free society a university has a moral
purpose, combining an intellectual purpose of free and open inquiry and a social purpose as a
source of social criticism independent of political authority and economic power’ (Tasker &
Packham, in Bridgman, 2007, p. 3). In this radical plural vision of democracy, universities are home
to ‘public intellectuals’, a concept with a long history. As Weiming (2005, p. 221) notes:

701
Sandra J. Grey

A salient feature of the Russian intelligentsia was its spirit of protest. As a rule, members of the
Russian intelligentsia were critics of officialdom, and they were frequently persecuted as
dissidents.
The desire of academics to connect themselves to social and political ‘causes’ is frequently seen as
being at odds with academic notions of objectivity. Dworkin (1996, in Bridgman, 2007, p. 6) argues
that attacks on positivism ‘have undermined academic authority by encouraging relativism and
demonstrating the value-laden nature of facts’. While advocating for activism by university staff
means discarding positivistic notions of research, it does not mean discarding a commitment to
rigorous research. As noted by Jones et al (2000, p. 9), ‘the dissemination of knowledge requires
academic freedom, and this in turn demands the highest standard of integrity. The requirement of
integrity is crucial whether the dissemination of knowledge is within one’s own discipline or into
the public realm more broadly.’
Radical views of democracy may justify activism by those who teach and research in
universities, but can social movements embrace these institutional actors?
Conceptions of social movements which inextricably intertwine movements with social
classes or categories, then link those to contentious and disruptive political action, are unlikely to
comfortably incorporate ‘elite’ activists such as academics or government employees into their
ranks. However, if we view social movements as collective challenges of received wisdom and
authority, as ideologically structured action (Zald, 2000), as creators of new knowledge (Eyerman
& Jamison, 1991), then there is room for academics in social movements. This view sees activists
bringing social and political change through the production and reproduction of knowledge, a role
which sits comfortably with the work of academics.
Given that a normative justification can be found for academics playing a role in social
movements, what organisational, political and cultural contexts have impacted upon their social
and political activism in twenty-first-century universities?

Constrained Resources are Inhibiting Academic Activism

The most frequently discussed constraint on academic life in New Zealand, as in most English-
speaking democracies, concerns the limited resources of the tertiary education sector – limits in
terms of time, money and staff. Over the last decade the public resources committed to tertiary
education have been heavily constrained. In 1998, public expenditure on tertiary institutions (public
and private; universities and vocational education establishments) comprised 1.06% of New
Zealand’s GDP (the rate for the United States was 1.07 and the UK 0.83). By 2001 this had dropped
to 0.9% of GDP (United States to 0.9 and UK to 0.8) (OECD, 2004). The percentage of GDP
dedicated to tertiary education in 2007 rose slightly but was still highly constrained at 1% (Ministry
of Education, 2011a). And the constraints on public funding are set to continue into the near future
(see Table I).

($million) 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015 2016

Actual Actual Actual Actual Forecast Forecast Forecast Forecast

Tertiary 4,564 4,465 3,991 3,795 4,119 4,123 4,087 4,104

education
expenses

Table I. Treasury forecasts for tertiary education expenditure current 2009-16.

Source: Treasury, 2013.

The impact of this decline in public funding has been exacerbated by the rise in the numbers of
students in tertiary education. In 1965, there were 50,000 New Zealanders in formal tertiary
education; by 1989 this had reached nearly 150,000 (Ministry of Education 1998, p. 25). In 2010,
over 200,000 people were studying for degrees across New Zealand and around 275,000 were
formally studying for non-degree tertiary qualifications (Ministry of Education, 2010, p. 47). Much
of this rise in student numbers came during the 1990s when the tertiary education sector in New

702
Activist Academics

Zealand moved from an ‘elite’ to a ‘mass market’ model of provisions. In 1990, 20.5% of 18-24-year-
olds were enrolled in tertiary education; by 1998 this had risen to 31.9% (Ministry of Education,
1998, p. 23).
Rising student numbers and declining public funding have led to an increase in the
student-staff ratios. The 2006 OECD Education at a Glance report showed that student-staff ratios
in New Zealand have increased from 14.8:1 in 1999 to 16.0:1 in 2004. By 2010 the ratio of
equivalent full-time students (EFTS)/academic full-time equivalents (FTEs) was 17.7:1 (Ministry of
Education, 2010), though there is variation between institutions. For example, at the University of
Canterbury in 2011 the student-staff ratio was 20:1; at AUT in 2010 it was 18.8:1; while at Otago
University in 2010 it was 16:1. The result is that active engagement by academics in public debate
and dissent is being crowded out by rising teaching workloads.
The rising student-staff ratio is not the only resource pressure being felt in New Zealand
universities. The underfunding of tertiary education has led to rising demand for staff to chase
‘external revenue’:
An additional job demand that has been increasing in recent years has been the expectation that
academics should attract external funding through research grants or research consultancies.
(Winefield et al, 2003, p. 61)
Ministry of Education figures show that over the last decade there has been a decline in the
proportion of university funding coming directly from core government funding (see Table II). The
figures also demonstrate the volatility of both public funding and external sources of revenue in
New Zealand, a volatility which sees staff putting extensive energies into chasing revenue sources.

2000 2005 2010

Government funding as % of total revenue 46.4 38.5 42.9
Domestic student fees as % of total revenue 20.9 15.7 17.9
International student fees as % of total revenue 4.6 13.8 8.9
Reported research income as % of total revenue 12.1 13.5 15.8
Other revenue as % of total revenue 16.0 18.4 14.5

Table II. University funding by source, 2000, 2005 and 2010.

Source: Ministry of Education, 2011b.

The decline in public funding for tertiary education has led to rising teaching and revenue-
gathering workloads, and added to this, demands for more efficient use of public resources have
seen a rise in administrative workloads. The state has introduced a raft of new public management
(NPM) ‘compliance’ and ‘auditing’ measures into the tertiary education sector. Significant time and
money is invested in managing auditing systems such as the performance-based research fund
(PBRF) in which academics are ‘graded’ on their scholarly ‘outputs’ every six years in order to
‘efficiently’ allocate state funding for research. Universities pour significant resources into the PBRF
exercises, including hiring of teams of research portfolio managers and carrying out mock research
evaluation exercises. The layers of administrative workload take time and energy away from core
teaching and research tasks, and from any activist role for academics. In addition there are rising
workloads and ongoing structural and policy change, all resulting in high levels of stress (see
Tennant, 2006; Shore, 2010).
The rising workloads, as well as decades of marketisation and managerial creep in the tertiary
education sector in New Zealand, not only impact on actual time for academics to engage in
activism, they also drain any energy for dissent. Social movement activism often wanes due to the
‘exhaustion effect’ – older activists tiring of the continual push back against change and because
their own lives have changed (Grey & Sawer, 2009). ‘Those women active in the women’s
liberation movement in the 1970s were in the main young and poor with some leisure (often
students or beneficiaries). But by the late 80s many had acquired well-paid often high status jobs
and “new men” (or women) spouses who share domestic work’ (Jones et al, 1990, p. 7). Similarly in
tertiary education the students and young academics central to the radical activism of the late 1960s
and early 1970s are likely to have found themselves in high-level institutional positions in the early

703
Sandra J. Grey

twenty-first century with workloads and responsibilities that leave them with little room for
ongoing social and political activism.

Narrowed Political Opportunity Structures for Academic Activism

Beyond the resource constraints which are impacting upon the public sphere work of academics,
changes in New Zealand’s political opportunity structures have acted to constrain the work of
academics.
There is little overt repression of academics in New Zealand, unlike in some territories of the
world, and academic freedom is protected in legislation. However, in recent years there have been
significant public attacks on outspoken academics by government politicians and right-wing
bloggers (for a recent example, see Slater, 2011, 2012). And the absence of repression does not
mean that academics are able to undertake roles in the public sphere:
In responding to questions regarding the role of critic and conscience of society, it was generally
pointed out that academic staff are free to write what they wish, the evidence for this statement
being found in the variety of research papers, press articles and media commentary emanating
from staff. ... This is fair as far as it goes, but it fails to address issues such as self-censorship, lack
of time, competing priorities, or even the subtle dangers of being seen to be too involved in
controversial areas. (Jones et al, 2000, p. 3)
As I have already argued, institutional factors are constraining the public-sphere roles of academics.
The openness of the New Zealand political environment has been detrimentally affected by
the rise of NPM and public choice theorising. Yeatman (1998, p. 17) notes that policy activism is
more or less legitimate, and more or less developed, depending on whether the government of the
day favours an executive approach to policy or a participative approach to policy which turns it
into a policy process. Policy activism and advocacy is frowned upon in NPM systems, and many
groups in society, including education workers, are seen as vested interests with no place in policy
debates. Roberts (2007, pp. 361-362) states:
It is consistent with the logic of neoliberal reform that academics, like teachers, will be regarded
– explicitly or implicitly – as untrustworthy beings. The obsession with ‘accountability’ under
neoliberalism assumes that teachers and academics must have their ‘performance’ monitored
and assessessed regularly to avoid ‘slacking off’ or ‘provider capture’.
The distrust of educationalists has led to changes to the governance structures of tertiary education
institutions. In 2009, the governing councils of polytechnics were changed via legislation from
bodies encompassing staff, student, business and community representation, to councils with four
members appointed by the Minister of Tertiary Education, with those four appointing the
remaining members. The result is polytechnic councils dominated by business leaders even though
councils are responsible for the academic direction of their institutions. And the Minister of
Tertiary Education has hinted that similar changes may be coming for university councils
(Hartevelt, 2012). The changes are being driven by a state which views education institutions as
‘businesses’ best managed by those with ‘business acumen’. At the same time staff are seen as
‘vested interests’ who only ever act to protect their own ‘ivory tower’ positions. As Berg et al (1998,
p. 1) note: ‘This re-regulation can be seen as both an ideological practice, and as part of a powerful
set of techniques for managing people from a distance – what Michel Foucault (1979) referred to as
Governmentality.’ What is problematic about this governmentality for the tertiary education sector?
As Kelsey has argued (1998, cited in Berg et al, 1998, p. 1):
… the academy ceases to be a collective whose value depends upon intellectual reputations,
integration of its activities and maintenance of a vibrant intellectual community. Its members,
once motivated by a sense of public service and intellectual mission, are deemed untrustworthy
to serve the interests of government and/or university and dismissed as vested interests that
capture the institution for their own ends.
The changes in the political opportunities structures of New Zealand have also impacted upon the
ability of academics to form alliances with others seeking social change, a core political opportunity
for social movements. In particular, the link between academics and students that was so crucial for

704
Activist Academics

social movements at campuses during the 1960s and 1970s has been affected by neo-liberal tertiary
education policy.
Ironically, while students are learning the rules and regulations of a discipline and are being
prepared for a productive life in their society, they are also learning resistance – it is the fourth ‘R’,
so to speak, the one that universities don’t like to address; and it makes an unruly subject (Boren,
2001, p. 7). When tertiary education is defined purely as a form of (self-interested) private
investment, goals such as promoting a love of learning, fostering public debate and enhancing
democratic citizenship disappear from the agenda (Roberts, 1999, p. 80). The teaching the fourth
‘R’ is pushed to one side by an increased focus on peer-reviewed publications and commercialisable
research, and on the instrumental goal of creating ‘good workers’.
NPM policy approaches have also altered the student body itself. In New Zealand a level of
de-politicisation of students has been achieved through legislative changes, such as the removal of
students from polytechnic councils in 2009 and the move to voluntary student unionism in 2011.
The student body has also changed because tertiary education is viewed as a ‘private good’. As in
much of the English-speaking world, the move to a market model in the tertiary sector has led to
students making demands as ‘consumers’ and gains are made ‘through the power of the pound’
(Hanna, in Shepherd, 2006, p. 4).
The commodification of tertiary qualifications makes it difficult for students to be interested
in ‘knowledge for knowledge’s sake’; and few can afford to be ‘full-time’ students in New Zealand.
The Union of Student Associations’ 2004 Income and Expenditure Survey showed that 67% of
students surveyed worked regular hours during term time. The average hours worked was 13
hours per week. This means our classrooms, corridors and student cafeterias are no longer model
‘public spaces’ in which ideas are exchanged freely; rather, they are spaces in which students ask:
‘What do I need to pass this course and finish my major?’
Elite coherence around narratives centred on the ‘instrumental’ purpose of tertiary education
and appropriateness of NPM techniques has also narrowed the political opportunities structures for
activist academics. In the last few decades there has been a strong alignment between the narratives
of the state, of business, and of senior managers in the tertiary education sector. For example,
Business Roundtable former head Roger Kerr (1998, p. 9) claimed proposals by the government to
enhance the accountability of public tertiary institutions did not threaten academic freedom. Kerr
pointed out that his views aligned with those of the Vice-Chancellor of Victoria University of
Wellington who had stated that even if most or all members of universities’ governing councils
were appointed by government, ‘most appointments would be university graduates who would
value academic freedoms and rights of academics and students’. The alignment of the narratives of
university and political leaders is evident when looking at the research published by peak bodies in
the tertiary education sector to prove their ‘economic worth’ (NZIER, 2010, 2011). Reports from
tertiary education peak bodies reflect government demands for ‘relevant and efficient tertiary
education provision that meets the needs of students, the labour market and the economy’
(Ministry of Education, 2010, p. 6).
The coherence of university and political elites is in part driven by the way policy
implementation is carried out in New Zealand. Government steering is implemented through the
Tertiary Education Strategy, which identifies priorities for the sector through the Statement of
Tertiary Education Priorities (STEP). Individual institutions then outline how they will address
these priorities through their investment plans (negotiated with government representatives),
which must reflect their institutional profile. This alignment process in policy has been applauded
by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) (Goedegebuure et al,
2008) and has fundamentally altered the operation of tertiary education institutions. This coherence
among the political elite means it is difficult to find senior managers who will champion anything
but the government’s instrumental focus with regard to the purpose of tertiary education. Added
to this is the fact that NPM narratives have been normalised in everyday operations of the tertiary
education sector:
At a recent conference in Australia, a university dean lamented to me, ‘I keep finding myself
saying words like “continuous improvement”, “performance” and “outcomes” even though I
hate this management-speak.’ (Shore, 2008, p. 283)

705
Sandra J. Grey

Instilling Market and Managerial Values into University Cultures

Using the institutional lens of social movement research provides evidence that both shrinking
resources (time, money and energy) and the narrowing of political opportunity structures (through
the implementation of NPM modes of governance) are hindering social and political activism by
New Zealand academics. The question is: ‘How have we [academics] ever allowed arbitrary
quantitative measures to determine value? More importantly, how have we become complicit in its
operation? ... the new regime of governmentality engendered by audit and new managerialism is
designed to work on and through our capacities as moral agents and professionals’ (Shore, 2008, p.
291). The managerial culture has been influential in universities as it intersects with some of the
traditional values of university communities and with broader cultural dynamics.
The disciplining of knowledge is a traditional function of universities. In a managerial
environment this ‘disciplining’ has been transformed by government objectives seeking the
delivery of ‘productive’ activities and institutions contributing to economic growth. For example,
funding is being targeted to ensure 25-34-year-olds gain qualifications as ‘there is a long-run return
from their skills’ because they are likely to be in the work force for 30 years or more (Ministry of
Education, 2010, p. 4). The instrumental focus found in the policy for, and management of, the
sector narrows what is taught, to whom and how – management and economic imperatives of
tertiary education override institutional autonomy and academic freedom. And in an environment
where international journal articles are the ‘outputs’ which count most, many academics feel they
have no choice but to fulfil this requirement and shun tasks which do not ‘count’ – no matter how
important.
Earlier intellectuals capable of straddling the line between scholarship and public literary venues
were replaced by academic careerists that exploited theoretically fashionable prejudices to secure
tenure. Unlike former intellectuals that wrote for the public, today’s progressive thinkers retreat
into expanding universities, where the politics of tenure, promotion and merit pay loom larger
than the call to participate in public life. (Karger & Hernandez, 2004, p. 61)
Over the last three decades New Zealand tertiary education sector has been driven much more to
meet national, or more correctly, government, objectives (see McLaughlin, 2003, pp. 25-28; Zepke,
2012). Economic benefit has become the predominantly desired outcome (Zepke, 2012) and the
immeasurable outcomes of tertiary education have fallen to one side (see an example of this in
Bhaskaran et al, 2007, p. 4).
Changes to the New Zealand public sector over the last four decades have been driven by an
instrumental preoccupation with organisational division of labour that has fragmented existing
institutional arrangements and instilled competitive norms in place of cooperative ones in the quest
for greater operational efficiency (Gregory, 1999, p. 65). Managerial approaches to governance of
universities have impacted upon the autonomy of the institutions and the academics who work
within them. ‘The traditional professional culture of open intellectual enquiry and debate has been
replaced with an institutional stress on performativity ... strategic planning, performance indicators,
quality assurance measures and academic audits’ (Olssen & Peters, in Shore, 2010, p. 16). The drive
to secure external revenues challenges the institutional autonomy and academic freedom. Jones et
al (2000, p. 22) note that ‘a commercially focused council or board could exert pressure on staff or
students to ensure that they do not in some way offend potential funders or contributors’. And the
quest for efficiency has led to extensive self-censorship:
Increased pressure to commercialise research and protect the institutional brand has also made
universities far more ‘risk averse’. This in turn often fuels bureaucratic closure and censorship,
or, more typically, ‘self-censorship’ as staff internalise management’s norms and policies for
protecting their institution’s reputation. (Shore, 2010, p. 26)
This change is evident internationally: ‘Universities in Australia (and no doubt in other countries
too) have experienced major organisational changes in recent years, with academic decision
making becoming less collegial and more managerial and autocratic’ (Winefield et al, 2003, p. 60).
The intersection of academic norms and NPM processes is just one factor shaping the new
culture of the tertiary education sector. The dethroning of the ‘expert’ in public debates has also
impacted upon the role of academics. The availability of knowledge in alternative spaces,

706
Activist Academics

particularly the World Wide Web, means knowledge is no longer confined to institutional spaces
such as universities, and also that knowledge becomes more contested (Delanty, 2002). In New
Zealand this dethroning of expert is reinforced by a deep thread of anti-intellectualism. Ideas of a
theoretical nature have not generally been credited with much influence on New Zealand politics
(Moloney, 1997). This rejection of intellectualism is seen in ‘public consultation’ carried out by
political elites, with consultation is frequently taken to mean speaking to the ‘man on the street’ or
conducting a self-selecting ‘phone-in poll’ or online ‘blogs’. It is also evident in institutional politics
where political parties have argued that they have taken the ‘politics out of politics’ and are
responding to political issues pragmatically not ideologically (Bale, 2003; Eichbaum & Shaw, 2006;
Armstrong, 2009). The pragmatism so lauded in New Zealand’s political sphere has helped to
ensure that an instrumental view of education has taken a firm hold.
As one New Zealand university lecturer put it, ‘Gone is the old ideal of the “impartial,
disinterested pursuit of truth”; the new guiding institutional principle is the political-economic
value-added vision.’ The university’s main role now appears to be to ‘help maximise wealth and
minimise social and environmental risks. (Duncan, in Shore, 2010, p. 26)
Anti-intellectualism and the myth of ‘pragmatic policy-making’ are tied more broadly into a dislike
of public dissent in New Zealand. In 1952 Bill Pearson wrote in ‘Fretful Sleepers’ (reprinted 2005, p.
55): ‘In New Zealand the ground is already prepared [for fascists to take over], in these conditions: a
docile sleepy electorate, veneration of war-heroes, willingness to persecute those who don’t
conform, gullibility in the face of headlines and radio pep talks.’ And Mereta Mita noted in the late
1980s (in Irwin, 1988, p. 34): ‘There is so much fear in New Zealand society. They call it liberalism
but it’s actually fear. Fear of being assertive and fear of having a point of view. Fear of being
criticised or of making constructive criticism.’
The dislike of dissent is evident in responses to public protest. For example, in 2004 Labour
Prime Minister Helen Clark labelled as ‘haters and wreckers’ those involved in a Hikoi protesting
over Maori customary rights to the foreshore and seabed. And in 2009 National Minister Paula
Bennett publicly released private details for two beneficiaries who had criticised the cutting of the
Training Incentive Allowance. Such attitudes can lead to members of the public, including those in
the academy, becoming unwilling to comment on government actions.

Conclusion: bringing dissent back in

An examination of the New Zealand tertiary education sector shows that a combination of
organisational, political and cultural factors is negatively impacting on the ability of academics to
take their rightful place in public debate. In particular, persistent underfunding, increased
workloads, the lack of political allies, elite coherence and a cultural environment which devalues
intellectuals while simultaneously elevating instrumentalism and pragmatism have worked
together to create marked tensions for academics wanting to ally themselves with activist causes.
These difficulties are echoed in the work of Todd Bridgman (2007, p. 15), who notes:
[there are] three main threats to the privilege of academic freedom - the professionalisation of
knowledge, which encourages faculty to neglect their critical public role; the commodification of
knowledge, which serves to devalue this role; and the critique of modern science, which
undermines the public role, by challenging the foundations on which critical public work has
traditionally been based.
So, what room is there for academics who want to spend some of their work week connecting to
social and political movements?
There is little doubt that any space for activism is limited by the current policy and
managerial regimes in place in the New Zealand tertiary education sector. As Gregory contends
(1999, p. 65), those public services that have been reorganised largely on the basis of economistic
assumptions will face major problems in building their ethical infrastructures. However, we should
not see the neo-liberal project and NPM techniques which brought competition, managerialism
and auditing into New Zealand’s tertiary education sector as coherent or impenetrable. As Peck
and Tickell observe, neoliberalism ‘should be understood as a process, not an end-state ... it is also
contradictory, it tends to provoke countertendencies, and it exists in historically and geographically

707
Sandra J. Grey

contingent forms’ (in Shore, 2010, p. 17). A similar point is made by Larner (1998, p. 17), who notes
that it is only by theorising neo-liberalism as a multi-vocal, contradictory and historically
contingent phenomenon that we can make visible the contestations and struggles that we are
currently engaged in.
But any ongoing attempts to resist and even rollback the detrimental effects of NPM will have
to take place on multiple fronts. Following Lankshear (1988, pp. 15-17), it is clear that university
staff must find the energy for:
• day-to-day resistance and challenge;
• critiquing and debating university policy; and
• establishing active networks with activist organisations and/or political elite.
Day-to-day resistance begins with examination of the ways in which the courses are taught, the
content of courses, and the way assessments are structured. If social movements are submerged
networks, as suggested by Alberto Melucci, research and knowledge dissemination within a
university classroom is a valid form of activism. Feminist scholars were a guiding light in this area,
as they created an institutionalised space for feminism in women’s studies programmes, an
example of ‘unobtrusive mobilisations’ (Katzenstein, 1998). More recently, though, the spaces to
teach feminist ideals have faced ongoing challenges in marketised and commercialised universities.
As well as working within our current institutional structures as part of ‘unobtrusive
mobilisations’ for social change, academics need to challenge the management systems in use in
the tertiary sector. As Lyotard and Derrida suggest, the very future of the university critically
depends on how successfully it carries out the task of its own self-examination and, along with it,
how well it bears the responsibility for the scrutiny of reason in all its historical forms (in Peters,
1991, p. 78). Academics must challenge how public management discourses are impinging upon
our multiple roles of teaching, research and scholarship, as well as engagement in movements for
social and political change. They must carry out vigilant readings and critical retellings of the
micro-effects of research policy within specific sites such as creative arts faculties to generate the
space for more generative responses by university management bodies (Jones et al, in Yeatman
1998, p. 168).
Any resistance or rollback against the audit and risk-averse culture of NPM-style universities
must be carried out collectively. We must form alliances between staff, students and citizens. In
particular, this push-back against instrumentalism in tertiary education will require the active
engagement of senior staff, many of whom will need to distance themselves from the policy-
makers bent on implementing NPM accountabilities in the tertiary education sector. A collective
approach is crucial as ‘there are huge costs and penalties if individuals, or individual institutions, try
to challenge or opt out of the auditing process’ (Shore, 2010, p. 293). One of our first aims must be
to collectively reconfigure what ‘counts’ as academic work while simultaneously challenging
whether ‘counting’ is necessarily the best way to ensure the efficient use of public resources in any
part of the education sector. In a funding system dominated by counting peer-reviewed
publications and student completions, any public-sphere activity will continue to take a back seat to
the more easily measureable outputs.
Part of being active academic citizens involves challenging our students to do and be more. In
early universities it was students who took the ideas of universities to the illiterate, acting as
missionaries, teaching new ideas to peasants, thus spreading movements like Lutheranism through
the countryside (Boren, 2001, p. 24). While not suggesting that our students should be out in
society professing Lutheran ideals, I would like to think we provide the tools of critique, debate and
research to students to enable active citizenship and even inspire some to take up activist roles.
Finally, there is a need for academics as part of their normal working lives to form alliances
and connections, and even at times to become members of political and advocacy organisations.
Rigorous research carried out ‘for a cause’ must again be accepted as legitimate knowledge
generation. If New Zealanders want to again take pride in being social innovators, it is crucial that
active citizenship is encouraged and celebrated. The work of activist academics must be evident in
‘public’ space. As Yeatman (1998, p. 33) states: ‘An activist who is required to act in ways which are
secretive, unaccountable, and not open to dialogical engagement with others is an activist who is
displacing activism in favour of professional elitism.’

708
Activist Academics

And if academics are not prepared to be part of the political and public debate of our times,
who is this role left to? I would argue that in recent decades those working within social science
disciplines have left too much commentary, dissent and debate to economists from within the
business sector and journalists who have unashamedly taken on the role of setting the normative
parameters for society and public debates.

References
Armstrong, J. (2009) National One Year On: Key rewrites political rulebook, The Herald, Saturday 31 October.
http://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=10606386
Bale, T. (2003) Pricking the South Sea Bubble: from fantasy to reality in Labour-led New Zealand, Political
Quarterly, 27(2), 202-213. http://dx.doi.org/10.1111/1467-923X.00530
Berg, L.D, Ryan, A.M. & Wood, B.A. (1998) Structural Adjustment? Sites 36(Autumn), 1-4.
Bhaskaran, N., Smart, W. & Smyth, R. (2007) How Does Investment in Tertiary Education Improve
Outcomes for New Zealanders? Social Policy Journal of New Zealand, 31(July), 195-217.
Boren, M.E. (2001) Student Resistance: a history of the unruly subject, New York: Routledge.
Bridgman, T. (2007) Assassins in Academia? New Zealand Academics as ‘Critic and Conscience’ of Society?
New Zealand Sociology, 22(1), 126-144.
Burawoy, M. (2005) 2004 American Sociological Association Presidential Address: for public sociology, British
Journal of Sociology 2005, 56(2), 259-294. http://dx.doi.org/10.1111/j.1468-4446.2005.00059.x
Calavita, K. (2002) Engaged Research, ‘Goose Bumps’, and the Role of the Public Intellectual, Law & Society
Review, 36(1), 5-20. http://dx.doi.org/10.2307/1512188
Delanty, G. (2002) The Governance of Universities: what is the role of the university in knowledge society?
Canadian Journal of Sociology, 27(2), 185-198. http://dx.doi.org/10.2307/3341710
Denton, M. (1998) Theoretical Perspectives on Social Movements, New Zealand Sociology, 13(2), 208-238.
Eichbaum, C. & Shaw, R. (2006) Labour in Government, Social Democracy, and the Third Way: the New
Zealand experience, in Political Studies Association of the United Kingdom (PSAUK) Annual Conference
2006, Reading University, 3-6 April 2006, http://www.psa.ac.uk
Eyerman, R. & Jamison, A. (1991) Social Movements: a cognitive approach. University Park: Pennsylvania State
University Press.
Goedegebuure, L., Santiago, P., Fitznor, L., Stensaker, B. & van der Steen, M. (2008) OECD Reviews of
Tertiary Education - New Zealand. Paris: Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development.
Gregory, R.J. (1999) Social Capital Theory and Administrative Reform: maintaining ethical probity in public
service, Public Administration Review, 59(1), 63-75. http://dx.doi.org/10.2307/977480
Grey, S. & Sawer, M. (Eds) (2009) Women’s Movements: flourishing or in abeyance? Abingdon: Routledge.
Hartevelt, J. (2012) Reform Eyes Cuts to University Councils, Stuff, 5 May.
http://www.stuff.co.nz/national/politics/6866103/Reform-eyes-cuts-to-university-councils
Irwin, K.G. (1988) Maori, Feminist, Academic …, Sites, 17 (Spring), 30-38.
Johnston, H. & Klandermans, B. (ed) (1995) Social Movements and Culture: Social Movements, Protest, and
Contention Vol. 4, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Jones, D.G., Galvin, K. & Woodhouse, D. (2000) Universities as Critic and Conscience of Society: the role of
academic freedom. NZ Universities Academic Audit Unit, March.
Jones, A., Guy, C., & Simpson, G. (1990) From Piha to Post-Feminism: radical feminism in New Zealand,
Sites, 20, 7-19.
Karger, H.J. & Hernandez, M.T. (2004) The Decline of the Public Intellectual in Social Work, Journal of
Sociology and Social Welfare, 31(3), 51-68.
Katzenstein, M. (1998) Faithful and Fearless: moving feminism into the church and the military. Princeton, NJ:
Princeton University Press.
Kerr, R. (1998) Academic Freedom and University Accountability. University of Auckland Winter Lecture
Series ‘The University in the 21st Century’, New Zealand Business Roundtable.
http://nzinitiative.org.nz/site/nzbr/files/speeches/speeches-
98/academic_freedom_and_university_accountability.pdf
Lankshear, C. (1988) In Whose Interest? The Role of Intellectuals in New Zealand Society, Sites, 17(Spring),
3-21.

709
Sandra J. Grey

Larner, W. (1998) Sociologies of Neo-liberalism: theorising the ‘New Zealand Experiment’, Sites,
36(Autumn), 5-21.
McAdam, D. (1996) Social Movements and the Changing Structure of Political Opportunity in the European
Union, West European Politics, 19(2), 249-278. http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/01402389608425133
McLaughlin, M. (2003) Tertiary Education Policy in New Zealand. http://www.fulbright.org.nz/wp-
content/uploads/2011/12/axford2002_mclaughlin.pdf
Meyer, D.S. (2003) Political Opportunity and Nested Institutions, Social Movement Studies, 2(1), 17-34.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/1474283032000062549
Meyer, D.S. (2004) Protest and Political Opportunities, Annual Review of Sociology, 30, 125-145.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1146/annurev.soc.30.012703.110545
Ministry of Education (1998) Profile & Trends 1998: New Zealand’s tertiary education sector, education
counts.
http://www.educationcounts.govt.nz/publications/series/2531/profile__and__trends_1998_new_zeal
ands_tertiary_education_sector
Ministry of Education (2010) Tertiary Education Strategy 2010-2015. Wellington: Ministry of Education.
Ministry of Education (2011a) Total Public Expenditure on Education.
http://www.educationcounts.govt.nz/indicators/main/resource/2039
Moloney, P. (1997) Neo-liberalism Down-under: Reflections on the ‘New Zealand Experiment. Working
paper. Victoria: University of Wellington.
New Zealand Institute of Economic Research (NZIER) (2010) The Economic Value of University
Investment: report to Universities New Zealand – TePokai Tara, October.
New Zealand Institute of Economic Research (NZIER) (2011) The Economic Value of Vocational Education
via ITPs: synthesis of existing studies. An NZIER Report to Metro ITPs, August.
Oliver, P.E. & Myers, D.J. (2003) The Coevolution of Social Movements, Mobilization, 8(1), 1-24.
Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) (2004) Education at a Glance 2009: OECD
indicators. Paris: OECD.
Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) (2006) Education at a Glance 2006.
http://www.oecd.org/education/skills-beyond-school/educationataglance2006-home.htm
Oselin, S.S. & Corrigall-Brown, C. (2010) A Battle for Authenticity: an examination of constraints on anti-Iraq
war and pro-invasion tactics, Mobilization: An International Quarterly, 15(4), 511-533.
Pearson, B. (2005) Fretful Sleepers, in R. Brown (Ed.) Great New Zealand Argument: ideas about ourselves, pp.
52-96. Auckland: Activity Press.
Peters, M. (1991) Re-reading Touraine: post-industrialism and the future of the university, Sites, 23(Spring),
63-83.
Roberts, P. (1999) The Future of the University: reflections from New Zealand, International Review of
Education, 45(1), 65-85. http://dx.doi.org/10.1023/A:1003525921200
Roberts, P. (2007) Neoliberalism, Performativity, and Research, International Review of Education, 53(4),
349-365. http://dx.doi.org/10.1007/s11159-007-9049-9
Shepherd, J. (2006) Feeds Killing the Radical Spirit, Academics Told, Times Higher Education Supplement, 2
November, 4.
Shore, C. (2008) Audit Culture and Illiberal Governance: universities and the politics of accountability,
Anthropological Theory, 8, 278-298. http://dx.doi.org/10.1177/1463499608093815
Shore, C. (2010) Beyond the Multiversity: neoliberalism and the rise of the schizophrenic university, Social
Anthropology, 15-29.
Slater, C. (2011) Independent? Whale Oil, 11 March.
Slater, C. (2012) League Tables and the Media, Whale Oil, 20 June.
Staggenborg, S. & Taylor, V. (2005) Whatever Happened to the Women’s Movement? Mobilization, 10(1),
37-52.
Tarrow, S. (1998) Power in Movement, 2nd edn. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Tennant, J. (2006) Work-related Stress: the experiences of polytechnic teachers. Unpublished research
project, Massey University College of Education, Department of Health and Human Development
Counselling and Guidance Programme.
Treasury (2013) Budgeting Economic and Fiscal Update, Thursday 16 May.
http://www.treasury.govt.nz/budget/forecasts/befu2013/befu13-whole.pdf

710
Activist Academics

Turner, B. (2006) British Sociology and Public Intellectuals: consumer society and imperial decline, British
Journal of Sociology, 57(2), 169-188. http://dx.doi.org/10.1111/j.1468-4446.2006.00100.x
Weiming, T. (2005) Intellectuals in a World Made of Knowledge, Canadian Journal of Sociology, 30(2), 219-226.
http://dx.doi.org/10.2307/4146132
Winefield, A.H., Gillespie, N., Stough, C., Dua, J., Hapuarachchi, J. & Boyd, C. (2003) Occupational Stress in
Australian University Staff: results from a national survey, International Journal of Stress Management,
10(1), 51-63. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/1072-5245.10.1.51
Yeatman, A. (Ed.) (1998) Activism and the Policy Process. St Leonards, NSW: Allen & Unwin.
Zald, M. (2000) Ideologically Structured Action: an enlarged agenda for social movement research,
Mobilization, 5, 1-16.
Zepke, N. (2012) What of the Future for Academic Freedom in Higher Education in Aotearoa New Zealand?,
Policy Futures in Education, 10(2), 155-164. http://dx.doi.org/10.2304/pfie.2012.10.2.155

SANDRA J. GREY is a Senior Lecturer in Social Policy at Victoria University of Wellington. Her
research focuses on social movements and citizen engagement in democracy. Sandra is currently
working on a project examining four decades (1970-2010) of contentious political activity by the
women’s, union, and anti-poverty movements of New Zealand. Her recent publications in this
field include a chapter on the New Zealand women’s movement in Rethinking Women in Politics; an
edited collection, Women's Movements: flourishing or in abeyance? co-edited with Marian Sawer; and,
‘Voices of the Community: the community and voluntary sector’s role in New Zealand
democracy’, a report co-authored with Charles Sedgwick. Correspondence: sandra.grey@vuw.ac.nz

711