Abstract
This volume explores the role of the university as it is pressured between the great social and natural challenges facing humanity and the narrowing focus of official policy, especially within the United Kingdom. As Ronald Barnett notes in the Foreword, this is a very timely book as it sets out to define the language for discourse about the role of the university in a British context but also globally (pp. ix–xi). In his introduction, Heap notes that increasing numbers of young adults are involved in study in universities (p. 1), and John Wood, in his international perspective, describes the phenomenal increase of universities within the Commonwealth, especially faith-based universities (pp. 143–44). This is occurring at a time of great global challenges, but also of great global resources and possibilities. In the light of this, how are we to decide the kind of universities we need?
In many places the authors suggest that universities are being urged to consider themselves as businesses in a competitive market (pp. 45–48, 116–18, 176–80). Let us, then, adopt the criteria that many businesses employ to evaluate their response to similar questions about their role in the world and their contribution to social and environmental wellbeing: the ‘triple-bottom-line’ of social impact (People), environmental impact (Planet), and economic impact (Profit) (see John Elkington, Cannibals with Forks: The Triple Bottom Line of 21st Century Business, Capstone, 1997).
Historically, universities have primarily been concerned with People and their role in society. In his chapter Rowan Williams records how higher education in the ancient world began with education of the sons of prominent families to play an effective role in the governing of their societies through engagement with classical texts and philosophical and theological discussion of ultimate questions (pp. 51–53). Alison Scott-Baumann and Sariya Cheruvallil-Contractor relate a similar development in the Islamic world (pp. 126–29). This vision of a ‘liberal education’ that would nurture ‘cultured’ individuals who could fully engage in life and service was also at the heart of Newman’s vision of the university, as discussed by Suzy Harris (pp. 63–68).
Addressing ‘The Needs of the World’, Susan Durbar describes a range of ‘people challenges’, including growing diversity arising from migration, different understandings of gender, and different kinds of belonging and commitment connected to social media (pp. 12–13, 21–25). These are accompanied by a widespread feeling of disempowerment due to the ‘globalisation of power’ (p. 13).
Several authors urge that, as socially responsible institutions, universities should become places of hospitality in which diversity is welcomed. Moreover they should be spaces in which students can explore and pose questions that enable them to discover and to engage with sensitivity the strange, and critically to reflect upon and perhaps trans-cend the familiar. This entails, as Harris observes, that universities can no longer be the cohesive communities assumed by Newman and envisaged by MacIntyre, but need to be broader and more open communities, as conceived by Thoreau, that promote a ‘liberal education’ by engaging with the ‘uncommon’ (p. 73). In a similar way, Williams advocates that the university should be a place where critical debate can take place amidst the diversity of cultures and disciplines in a manner that enables people generously to see beyond themselves (pp. 57–61).
Reflecting on Commonwealth universities, Wood shows that universities’ internal diversity must also be expressed in their external forms, as they reflect different traditions, contexts, and local and global partnerships that often transcend traditional institutional forms (pp. 155–65). This leads one to reflect that perhaps part of the ‘nature’ of a university is to be open to the diversity of a complex universe and this should be reflected in the way that the missions of diverse universities are conceived, as in examples that Wood provides from the Commonwealth (pp. 147–55).
Yet the danger is that if there are no points of integration the diversity with which universities are called to grapple will cause them to fall apart. Suggesting such points of integration is the particular value of Mike Higton’s and David Ford’s contributions. Higton provides a framework to converse about internal relations in the parallel he establishes between the discipline of ‘learning Christ’ within the Christian community through the gifts of the Spirit and a model of ‘learning’ in the university as truth is discovered beyond self in and through (sometimes conflictual) relationships with others. In both cases virtues can grow through a process of learning that includes modelling and apprenticeship, and this can enable both hospitality within the institution and caring ‘citizenship’ beyond (pp. 77–80).
Ford’s understanding of ‘public theology’ provides a framework for a diverse conversation within the university about diversity beyond it (pp. 91–104). He addresses the requirements and conditions for such ‘public theology’ in universities in terms of multi-religious discourse on social wellbeing (pp. 98–100). He suggests that this requires space for theological reflection within traditions, inter-religious study and dialogue, and study/dialogue of religions across disciplines. For engagement with social diversity, universities should have awareness of the contributions of religions to society and have connections with religious communities and traditions. In turn, members of religious communities should be able to see universities as educational resources for their public service. Then universities can be places for formation of virtue and wisdom.
Stephen Heap, the book’s editor, is based at the University of Winchester, UK; so is Elizabeth Stuart and her contribution addresses whether Winchester gives a nascent model of a university that embraces diversity within and engages with diversity externally (pp. 105–13). She considers the ways in which its particular Anglican tradition is expressed in its values and practice, principally in hospitality. Thus it seeks to welcome and support people from diverse backgrounds, particularly those who have experienced marginalisation such as refugees and those with differing gender identities. Stuart uses the striking image of the ‘open tomb’ (p. 107) as a metaphor for the open and questioning minds that Winchester seeks to encourage. This is reflected too in a broad view of ‘spirituality’ that is woven into academic life through liturgy and symbols that seek to create an environment in which students can engage widely and grow in virtue and wisdom. Significantly, graduates tend to gravitate towards ‘ethical’ rather than high-paying careers.
Yet we do well to remember whose tomb was empty and the Living One to whom the Angels were pointing. Jesus is either the Host of our community, or the Guest entering it. This leaves some questions. When Higton makes a parallel between the church and the university as places of learning, is he suggesting that Jesus is the hidden host of the university and that students are ‘anonymous disciples’? The issues of gender identity and of same-sex marriage are hotly contested in the context in which I work: how would ‘guests’ be received at Winchester who see the affirmation of a traditional view of marriage as key to their faith? Would there be openness to a ‘public theology’ dialogue around this issue?
Turning to the Planet, we can note that universities initially had rather a contested relationship with the natural sciences. Traditionally, they were part of the classical curriculum as ‘natural philosophy’ but had an ambiguous position when they began to emerge as independent and (especially) experimental areas of study (pp. 51–52). Interestingly, it was, as Scott-Baumann and Cheruvallil-Contractor relate, the universities of the Islamic world in which the sciences first flourished as independent subjects (pp. 127–28). Universities in the West did not really embrace the natural sciences until the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The vast expansion of scientific knowledge since then now includes universities globally, albeit with great disparity of resources.
Arguably, the single greatest challenge now facing the planet, correctly prioritised by Durbar, is climate change and its impact on the ecology of habitats, including human habitats (pp. 20–21). New scientific endeavours are necessary both to understand climate change and then to develop strategies and technologies that might mitigate its effects and enable adaptation to new conditions for both human and other species. Given the priorities of the market in research that Peter Scott identifies, with its emphasis on short-term results, it is not clear that funding necessary for these essential endeavours will be provided (p. 39).
From a theological point of view, as Higton indicates, research in the natural sciences is critical for a university: love of God and of truth directs us to understand the created universe; and love of the creation, including human beings, leads us to show care for all life (pp. 80–83). While Heap notes that public policy statements sometimes hint at a broader vision for university research (p. 176), this is not reflected in any practice (or funding). This is surely an area of prophetic engagement for public theology, from all diverse perspectives! Barnett’s ‘ecological university’ (pp. 174, 187) would surely enjoy multi-faith support and might even be a multi-faith project.
Such a project would entail dialogue around the worldviews behind both scientific investigation of the planet and the use of its natural resources. What we conceive the planet to be influences how we endeavour to understand it and then to develop it. This is an area where, curiously, the authors say little, but it is key to framing debate about the purpose and direction of scientific research.
Coming to Profit, universities as social institutions have always had to be economically viable, either through fees, philanthropic endowments, or government grants. The value provided by universities that justified these fees, gifts and grants was most often framed, as we have already seen, in terms of broader benefits that would accrue to individuals and communities. Disciplines to do with economics, technology and manufacturing seem to have been evaluated in light of human wellbeing and the utility of applications of scientific discovery. ‘Profit’ was traditionally important for the role it played in promoting the benefits to People and Planet.
The authors describe a situation in which this range of priorities has been largely reversed in recent policy and legislation (pp. 30–40, 171–79): the social and scientific missions of the university are reduced to narrowly-conceived economic priorities. The education and research that universities undertake are evaluated by whether they produce the competencies, skills and know-how required by the nation’s commerce and industry (pp. 39, 48–49, 184–86). Universities now exist in a market environment in which they are ranked in terms of the short-term employment success of their graduates (measured by salary rather than job satisfaction) (pp. 42, 112, 116) and the demand for their research (p. 111). To use a term coined by Paulo Freire, this is a ‘banking’ concept of both learning and research in which these are commodities to be exploited by those holding economic and political power. Institutions that cannot thrive within the current market environment will go to the wall, however excellent their contributions to People and Planet.
Such is the fate of Heythrop College in London, as described by Michael Holman (pp. 114–23). This is an example of the kind of higher education institution we need, yet it is incompatible with current neo-liberal priorities. In its teaching and research, it crosses boundaries of discipline and tradition to engage in a range of human concerns (pp. 119–20). In doing this Heythrop is true to its own traditions of viewing the world as a single created reality and recognising the love of the Creator to all expressed in Christ. It does all of this with the highest standards of scholarship (p. 115).
In saying all of this I am faced with the dilemmas of the African context in which I work. In order to justify the receipt of funds from the taxpayer, public universities have to demonstrate that they are fostering the development of the nation (measured in economic terms), while private institutions, such as my University College, have to convince students of the return on investment they will receive from their tuition fees in the form of future employment prospects. We are locked into a neo-liberal framework by our context. If we are to argue that we need universities that contribute to the holistic flourishing of People and Planet, we will need to develop different sources and models of funding.
In conclusion, what kind of universities do we need? I would join with Heap’s impassioned plea (pp. 186–87) for universities that are ‘open’ for the public good, for the love of Christ, for the Kingdom of God; open and hospitable to the diversity of life, and to the Angels’ questions and the wonder and joy they evoked. Anything else is to roll across the stone again and close off the possibilities of hope and joy in a new darkness.
‘For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?’ (Mk 8:36, KJV)