Academic freedom is not the freedom of any individual, but the

freedom of truth, beauty and the good to exist with some degree of
consistency among human beings. Merton’s norms and values of
modern science are concerned with the enactment of the scientific
enterprise, not the benefice of any individuals. Merton’s CUDOS are
the norms through which the pursuit of truth is to be realised in a
modern society. They are the integrity of science in human minds.
Both academics (as the actuators of these values) and universities
(as institutions with any sense of self-integrity) have an inherent
interest in sustaining academic (alongside scientific) norms and
values. Academic freedom, as the broadest of these values, is hence
paramount to distinguishing the academic from other (non-
professional) modes of communication and action. Conceived in the
negative mode, academic freedom is divisive, as academics may
compete against one another for (for example) less interference or
less censorship through economic means. The tenured professor
wealthy in both grant funding and prestige can purchase the time
and attention of lesser academic commodities, more easily dictate
the terms of research, to a degree. Conceived in the positive mode,
academic freedom must be pursued in cooperation. Competition
over scarce resources produces appeals to the private interests of
funding bodies, incentive for academics to engage in “boasting”
research findings and generally self-interested conduct. (Mark
Carrigan aptly describes the competitive self-interest produced by
the recent digital metrification of academic work, claiming that “The
depressing thought is that I struggle to imagine not being interested
in them [publication and citation metrics]“.)
Although academic freedom is not a freedom for the benefit of
individuals, it does entail an ethics of the individual – a mode of
relating to oneself as an academic. That is, academic freedom is
normative. When taken for a negative freedom, the maximisation of
academic freedom might entail the maximisation of discretionary
effort – that is, the effort one expends above the threshold required
to avoid “getting in trouble”. Maximising academic freedom in this
manner is fraught with deleterious consequences for both academic
work cultures and perhaps even the academic profession in general.
Individuals encourage each other to overwork via positively
reinforcing workaholism and the broader academic profession
becomes obsessed with proxies of academic value, such as
publication formulae, citation counts and grant dollars.
A positive conception of academic freedom – as a freedom of the
academic profession, not the individual – is a useful conceptual tool
to re-frame what is at stake in the corporatised/managerial
university. Individual academics are encouraged within metric
assemblages to become self-interested actors, seeking to maximise
their personal freedoms often in competition with other academic
actors. While this survival-of-the-fittest model of academe may
indeed assist universities in adapting to changing funding
environments, producing leaner and meaner bureaucracies, it does
not ensure that academe will remain a distinct realm in which truth,
beauty and the good are openly sought, spoken and heard. This
would require a bureaucracy that recognises that academic freedom
and integrity are systemic. The danger is not individual dishonesty
(which is rare and readily sanctioned), but the systemic
normalization of self-interest over scientific interest.
Academic freedom is not the freedom of any individual, but the
freedom of truth, beauty and the good to exist with some degree of
consistency among human beings. Merton’s norms and values of
modern science are concerned with the enactment of the scientific
enterprise, not the benefice of any individuals. Merton’s CUDOS are
the norms through which the pursuit of truth is to be realised in a
modern society. They are the integrity of science in human minds.
Both academics (as the actuators of these values) and universities
(as institutions with any sense of self-integrity) have an inherent
interest in sustaining academic (alongside scientific) norms and
values. Academic freedom, as the broadest of these values, is hence
paramount to distinguishing the academic from other (non-
professional) modes of communication and action. Conceived in the
negative mode, academic freedom is divisive, as academics may
compete against one another for (for example) less interference or
less censorship through economic means. The tenured professor
wealthy in both grant funding and prestige can purchase the time
and attention of lesser academic commodities, more easily dictate
the terms of research, to a degree. Conceived in the positive mode,
academic freedom must be pursued in cooperation. Competition
over scarce resources produces appeals to the private interests of
funding bodies, incentive for academics to engage in “boasting”
research findings and generally self-interested conduct. (Mark
Carrigan aptly describes the competitive self-interest produced by
the recent digital metrification of academic work, claiming that “The
depressing thought is that I struggle to imagine not being interested
in them [publication and citation metrics]“.)
Although academic freedom is not a freedom for the benefit of
individuals, it does entail an ethics of the individual – a mode of
relating to oneself as an academic. That is, academic freedom is
normative. When taken for a negative freedom, the maximisation of
academic freedom might entail the maximisation of discretionary
effort – that is, the effort one expends above the threshold required
to avoid “getting in trouble”. Maximising academic freedom in this
manner is fraught with deleterious consequences for both academic
work cultures and perhaps even the academic profession in general.
Individuals encourage each other to overwork via positively
reinforcing workaholism and the broader academic profession
becomes obsessed with proxies of academic value, such as
publication formulae, citation counts and grant dollars.
A positive conception of academic freedom – as a freedom of the
academic profession, not the individual – is a useful conceptual tool
to re-frame what is at stake in the corporatised/managerial
university. Individual academics are encouraged within metric
assemblages to become self-interested actors, seeking to maximise
their personal freedoms often in competition with other academic
actors. While this survival-of-the-fittest model of academe may
indeed assist universities in adapting to changing funding
environments, producing leaner and meaner bureaucracies, it does
not ensure that academe will remain a distinct realm in which truth,
beauty and the good are openly sought, spoken and heard. This
would require a bureaucracy that recognises that academic freedom
and integrity are systemic. The danger is not individual dishonesty
(which is rare and readily sanctioned), but the systemic
normalization of self-interest over scientific interest.
Academic freedom is not the freedom of any individual, but the
freedom of truth, beauty and the good to exist with some degree of
consistency among human beings. Merton’s norms and values of
modern science are concerned with the enactment of the scientific
enterprise, not the benefice of any individuals. Merton’s CUDOS are
the norms through which the pursuit of truth is to be realised in a
modern society. They are the integrity of science in human minds.
Both academics (as the actuators of these values) and universities
(as institutions with any sense of self-integrity) have an inherent
interest in sustaining academic (alongside scientific) norms and
values. Academic freedom, as the broadest of these values, is hence
paramount to distinguishing the academic from other (non-
professional) modes of communication and action. Conceived in the
negative mode, academic freedom is divisive, as academics may
compete against one another for (for example) less interference or
less censorship through economic means. The tenured professor
wealthy in both grant funding and prestige can purchase the time
and attention of lesser academic commodities, more easily dictate
the terms of research, to a degree. Conceived in the positive mode,
academic freedom must be pursued in cooperation. Competition
over scarce resources produces appeals to the private interests of
funding bodies, incentive for academics to engage in “boasting”
research findings and generally self-interested conduct. (Mark
Carrigan aptly describes the competitive self-interest produced by
the recent digital metrification of academic work, claiming that “The
depressing thought is that I struggle to imagine not being interested
in them [publication and citation metrics]“.)
Although academic freedom is not a freedom for the benefit of
individuals, it does entail an ethics of the individual – a mode of
relating to oneself as an academic. That is, academic freedom is
normative. When taken for a negative freedom, the maximisation of
academic freedom might entail the maximisation of discretionary
effort – that is, the effort one expends above the threshold required
to avoid “getting in trouble”. Maximising academic freedom in this
manner is fraught with deleterious consequences for both academic
work cultures and perhaps even the academic profession in general.
Individuals encourage each other to overwork via positively
reinforcing workaholism and the broader academic profession
becomes obsessed with proxies of academic value, such as
publication formulae, citation counts and grant dollars.
A positive conception of academic freedom – as a freedom of the
academic profession, not the individual – is a useful conceptual tool
to re-frame what is at stake in the corporatised/managerial
university. Individual academics are encouraged within metric
assemblages to become self-interested actors, seeking to maximise
their personal freedoms often in competition with other academic
actors. While this survival-of-the-fittest model of academe may
indeed assist universities in adapting to changing funding
environments, producing leaner and meaner bureaucracies, it does
not ensure that academe will remain a distinct realm in which truth,
beauty and the good are openly sought, spoken and heard. This
would require a bureaucracy that recognises that academic freedom
and integrity are systemic. The danger is not individual dishonesty
(which is rare and readily sanctioned), but the systemic
normalization of self-interest over scientific interest.
Academic freedom is not the freedom of any individual, but the
freedom of truth, beauty and the good to exist with some degree of
consistency among human beings. Merton’s norms and values of
modern science are concerned with the enactment of the scientific
enterprise, not the benefice of any individuals. Merton’s CUDOS are
the norms through which the pursuit of truth is to be realised in a
modern society. They are the integrity of science in human minds.
Both academics (as the actuators of these values) and universities
(as institutions with any sense of self-integrity) have an inherent
interest in sustaining academic (alongside scientific) norms and
values. Academic freedom, as the broadest of these values, is hence
paramount to distinguishing the academic from other (non-
professional) modes of communication and action. Conceived in the
negative mode, academic freedom is divisive, as academics may
compete against one another for (for example) less interference or
less censorship through economic means. The tenured professor
wealthy in both grant funding and prestige can purchase the time
and attention of lesser academic commodities, more easily dictate
the terms of research, to a degree. Conceived in the positive mode,
academic freedom must be pursued in cooperation. Competition
over scarce resources produces appeals to the private interests of
funding bodies, incentive for academics to engage in “boasting”
research findings and generally self-interested conduct. (Mark
Carrigan aptly describes the competitive self-interest produced by
the recent digital metrification of academic work, claiming that “The
depressing thought is that I struggle to imagine not being interested
in them [publication and citation metrics]“.)
Although academic freedom is not a freedom for the benefit of
individuals, it does entail an ethics of the individual – a mode of
relating to oneself as an academic. That is, academic freedom is
normative. When taken for a negative freedom, the maximisation of
academic freedom might entail the maximisation of discretionary
effort – that is, the effort one expends above the threshold required
to avoid “getting in trouble”. Maximising academic freedom in this
manner is fraught with deleterious consequences for both academic
work cultures and perhaps even the academic profession in general.
Individuals encourage each other to overwork via positively
reinforcing workaholism and the broader academic profession
becomes obsessed with proxies of academic value, such as
publication formulae, citation counts and grant dollars.
A positive conception of academic freedom – as a freedom of the
academic profession, not the individual – is a useful conceptual tool
to re-frame what is at stake in the corporatised/managerial
university. Individual academics are encouraged within metric
assemblages to become self-interested actors, seeking to maximise
their personal freedoms often in competition with other academic
actors. While this survival-of-the-fittest model of academe may
indeed assist universities in adapting to changing funding
environments, producing leaner and meaner bureaucracies, it does
not ensure that academe will remain a distinct realm in which truth,
beauty and the good are openly sought, spoken and heard. This
would require a bureaucracy that recognises that academic freedom
and integrity are systemic. The danger is not individual dishonesty
(which is rare and readily sanctioned), but the systemic
normalization of self-interest over scientific interest.
Academic freedom is not the freedom of any individual, but the
freedom of truth, beauty and the good to exist with some degree of
consistency among human beings. Merton’s norms and values of
modern science are concerned with the enactment of the scientific
enterprise, not the benefice of any individuals. Merton’s CUDOS are
the norms through which the pursuit of truth is to be realised in a
modern society. They are the integrity of science in human minds.
Both academics (as the actuators of these values) and universities
(as institutions with any sense of self-integrity) have an inherent
interest in sustaining academic (alongside scientific) norms and
values. Academic freedom, as the broadest of these values, is hence
paramount to distinguishing the academic from other (non-
professional) modes of communication and action. Conceived in the
negative mode, academic freedom is divisive, as academics may
compete against one another for (for example) less interference or
less censorship through economic means. The tenured professor
wealthy in both grant funding and prestige can purchase the time
and attention of lesser academic commodities, more easily dictate
the terms of research, to a degree. Conceived in the positive mode,
academic freedom must be pursued in cooperation. Competition
over scarce resources produces appeals to the private interests of
funding bodies, incentive for academics to engage in “boasting”
research findings and generally self-interested conduct. (Mark
Carrigan aptly describes the competitive self-interest produced by
the recent digital metrification of academic work, claiming that “The
depressing thought is that I struggle to imagine not being interested
in them [publication and citation metrics]“.)
Although academic freedom is not a freedom for the benefit of
individuals, it does entail an ethics of the individual – a mode of
relating to oneself as an academic. That is, academic freedom is
normative. When taken for a negative freedom, the maximisation of
academic freedom might entail the maximisation of discretionary
effort – that is, the effort one expends above the threshold required
to avoid “getting in trouble”. Maximising academic freedom in this
manner is fraught with deleterious consequences for both academic
work cultures and perhaps even the academic profession in general.
Individuals encourage each other to overwork via positively
reinforcing workaholism and the broader academic profession
becomes obsessed with proxies of academic value, such as
publication formulae, citation counts and grant dollars.
A positive conception of academic freedom – as a freedom of the
academic profession, not the individual – is a useful conceptual tool
to re-frame what is at stake in the corporatised/managerial
university. Individual academics are encouraged within metric
assemblages to become self-interested actors, seeking to maximise
their personal freedoms often in competition with other academic
actors. While this survival-of-the-fittest model of academe may
indeed assist universities in adapting to changing funding
environments, producing leaner and meaner bureaucracies, it does
not ensure that academe will remain a distinct realm in which truth,
beauty and the good are openly sought, spoken and heard. This
would require a bureaucracy that recognises that academic freedom
and integrity are systemic. The danger is not individual dishonesty
(which is rare and readily sanctioned), but the systemic
normalization of self-interest over scientific interest.