University, Research, and Critical Society
Notes on the book by Judith Lazar, by René Teboul
July 15, 2003
Source: http://www.univom.net/revue/teboul.htm
This is a text by René Teboul, whom I knew well many years ago, presenting himself as a commentary on a recently published book by a certain Judith Lazar. I fully agree with his assessment of academics and the CNRS. In the second part, he offers some "simple proposals." When I have time, I will complement them with my own. I believe the diagnosis of how the university-research environment has evolved is truly alarming. I am glad to see that an active academic has dared to break free from the endless jargon and speak plainly. That said, a country cannot function without a system ensuring high-quality university education and cutting-edge research. What could we do? What should we do? Are there even any solutions, or is the system irreversibly rotten and beyond repair? This question deserves to be asked.
Judith Lazar’s book—so stimulating—is clearly an exact reflection of the corruption of the entire university community and its traumatic consequences. It is not the first work on the institution’s dysfunction, but it is the first that, through a painful personal experience, so effectively highlights the root of its decay: recruitment procedures based on the blatant dishonesty of specialist committees. How many actually read their colleagues’ work? How many thesis committee members show up at a defense having barely skimmed the candidate’s work? From this perspective, specialist committees have made things easier: candidates for maître de conférences positions are no longer required to submit anything more than a summary of their work!
What Judith Lazar describes has unfortunately become, over the years, routine—even "normal"—for academics. She is undoubtedly right in defining the university as a zone of lawlessness where, in a transparently secret manner, small fiefdoms—more or less effective—have been built and systematically corrupt the system. This is true in sociology, but also in economics, and even in philosophy. Should we look elsewhere for the causes of the decline of French universities, both in terms of training capacity and international reputation?
A DESPERATE DIAGNOSIS
Among the book’s finest passages is the description of the moment when work no longer pays off—and instead harms the candidate. If a candidate has too much work and still hasn’t been hired, that is the absurd proof that their work must be problematic! I myself experienced this kind of reasoning when applying for professorial positions. First, I was told I was close to success, that the next time it would be my turn. Then I was advised to diversify my dossier. Finally, I was told my dossier was too scattered, not sufficiently readable, and my publications were lost on topics that weren’t fundamental enough (for example, I was once advised not to mention Gary S. Becker, despite his Nobel Prize, or not to discuss my work in cultural economics; sometimes I was told I didn’t do enough applied work, or that my work was too applied, not theoretical enough). And so on. But in the end, I never learned the real reason—whether it was my personality (probably "too arrogant and self-absorbed"), the fact that I wasn’t a member of a political party, a union, or a Masonic lodge, or the latent antisemitism of some. Perhaps a little of all of these, in turn.
She is also right in pointing out that academics are ultimately quite indifferent to producing and disseminating knowledge. Of course, it is equally obvious that hiring teachers no longer occurs based on merit, quality, or publication records. We will return to this crucial point later. Students are increasingly weak, and teachers inevitably follow this downward trend, since by definition teachers are recruited among our former students! This does not mean, of course, that some teachers are not of high quality—occasionally, that happens! But this is, in a way, the seal of approval for the entire system. It is also clear that the best students are less and less drawn to academic careers or research in what is now an absurdly absurd institution: the inimitable CNRS (we will return to this institution shortly, explaining why it must be permanently closed).
We also agree that a reform of university functioning is necessary, desirable, and possible. Even though the diagnosis is simple, it is difficult to envision change. I would say why: such a reform cannot emerge from within the system itself—it will require a shock at least as powerful as that of 1968, and it must come from a place no one expects. Nevertheless, the content of the book, and its approach, invite numerous remarks:
- Judith Lazar often falls short of reality. The daily life of academics is actually far more sordid than she portrays. The academic lifestyle is made up of repeated petty intrigues. She is surely mistaken in thinking that academics have a clear, even if unacknowledged, goal. In other words, she does not delve deeply enough into the reasons behind what is likely a definitive collapse of the system. The core of the matter is that academics are poorly educated and work very little. And if they spend their time scheming, it is precisely because they don’t want to work: so they waste their time on various committees supposedly responsible for hiring teachers—this is their little pleasure, the thing that makes them feel they have a role somewhere. We find them again on reform committees, supposedly to improve the institution’s functioning. It’s quite amusing to visit the homes of our colleagues and see how little they care about knowledge—while some have beautiful pools and nice detached houses, few possess impressive libraries.
The entire system rests on two pillars: lies and evil. Widespread lying has become quite visible. Academics are used to lying—not only to candidates they pretend to encourage (which might be excused as natural cowardice), but also to each other. One such person promises to vote in specialist committees for a colleague’s candidate, then changes their vote at the last moment without any clear justification. Academics also lie to their own colleagues about their own work, and perhaps even to themselves. How many academics do we meet claiming to be exhausted and underpaid for their hard labor? How many complain about material difficulties in carrying out their research? The vast majority of academics chose this profession precisely to do as little as possible.