3.1 Managerialism and the Death of Dissent in Australian Universities

Paul Doogood

Listen to the Managerialism and the Death of Dissent in Australian Universities podcast.

 

View the podcast transcript.

 

Reflection

The podcast I produced for the Making History project compares the response to neoliberal higher education reforms introduced in Australia in the late 1980s with reforms along similar lines handed down in 2020. I was drawn to the topic as I happened to be studying at La Trobe University on both occasions and as such witnessed the reception of each of these initiatives first-hand.

I first attended La Trobe in the late 1980s, just as the Hawke government Education Minister, John Dawkins, began reforming the sector in response to the neoliberal global economic dispensation established during that decade under the leadership of UK Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, and US President, Ronald Reagan. Thousands of La Trobe students offered up as militant a response to the proposed reforms as any student body in Australia. I threw myself into the fight to the extent I soon became a leading activist on-campus. A protest group I helped found occupied the University Administration Centre for 11 days, staged countless protests, and filled the student newspaper, Rabelais, with articles railing against the changes.

In part due to the fact I was so consumed by the protest movement, I failed to complete my degree, eventually returning to La Trobe in 2018 to make a second attempt, just in time for the introduction of then Education Minister Dan Tehan’s “Job Ready” reforms! As the name suggests, the Tehan reforms furthered the process of aligning the Higher Education sector with the demands of industry begun by Dawkins in 1987. However, unlike in the case of the Dawkins reforms, they were met with little resistance. I set out to gain some idea why, and discovered the answer can be found, at least in part, in the very nature of the earlier reforms – specifically, the way in which neoliberal principles were embedded through changes to managerial practices at the institutional level.

Where the management of Australian universities prior to the Dawkins reforms was collegial and inclusive, the new dispensation introduced a managerial model which saw a small, highly-paid executive elite established at each institution and set not just above, but apart from, the academic and other administrative staff. These core groups have close ties to government and industry and are more responsive to their wants and needs than to those of the staff and students they notionally serve. This leadership model, dubbed “managerialism”, is fundamental to the way neoliberalism operates, and, I would argue, its entrenchment at the institutional level is central to the progressive paralysis that pertains today.

In contrast to the situation pertaining until the 1980s, narrowly-focused economic imperatives as determined by government and industry are now so central to the structure and management of all manner of organisations, including universities, it is almost impossible to mount any argument – let alone a protest movement – that does not first concede their primacy. As such, resistance to policy changes is reduced to focusing on issues at the margins, with any small wins soon swept aside by the next round of reforms. Unless and until progressive resistance to the economic and social depredations wrought by neoliberalism focuses on the way it holds sway at the institutional coalface, it will continue to flounder.

I chose to present my arguments in the form of a podcast primarily because I didn’t want to pretend to be a neutral observer. I learned from the Making History course that acknowledging that you approach your topic from a particular perspective is preferable to pretending to a level of objectivity you cannot attain. As outlined above, I actively opposed the education reforms introduced in 1987. I also produced a submission on behalf of the Student Union in 2020 urging the La Trobe University executive to put up more of a fight in response to the Tehan reforms. I have consistently opposed and campaigned against the neoliberal model of the university, and in producing this history felt it was necessary to make clear I am presenting the events from the point of view of an activist, not just an observer. The podcast is a story-teller’s medium, with the tone and temper of the delivery making more obvious the position of the person delivering it, adding a layer of meaning not so easily conveyed with mere words on a page. As such it lends itself well to the presentation of history from the participant’s point of view.

In terms of the presenting style I adopted, I must confess to being heavily influenced by Marc Fennell’s “Stuff the British Stole” podcast. Fennell has a finely-tuned sense of the ludicrous, which he deftly employs to keep his audience engaged at times when the often darkly serious subject matter he presents might otherwise see some listeners switching off in despair. While I don’t pretend to have anything like his broadcasting chops, I too can see the funny side of human folly, and as such thought I could do worse than take a lead from his playful presentation style. One rather obvious way in which I emulated Fennell was in teasing my listeners with an unexplained acronym during my introduction, before eventually working my way back to revealing what it stood for in advance of my conclusion. An utterly shameless strategy, no doubt, but an effective way of maintaining audience interest. The lesson I took from Fennell was that while remaining true to your subject matter ought to be the historian’s primary concern in producing a podcast, your best efforts are wasted if the manner in which you present it causes your audience to lose interest.

February 2023, Vichy, France


About the author

Paul Doogood was born and bred in Dandenong, grew up loving music and literature (and the Richmond Football Club) – and hating high school. He became an apprentice Electrical Linesman with the SEC as a 15-year-old in 1977, but continued to focus on music and literature, playing in a number of loud, weird and angry post-punk bands in the late 70s and early 80s. After his first stint at La Trobe in the late 1980s, he added theatre to the list of things he loves, somehow falling into a career as a puppeteer with Polyglot Puppet Theatre from 1989 through to the early noughties. Stony broke after 20 years in the theatre, he returned to working as a Linesman for 10 years, before essaying another attempt at getting a degree in 2018. He has just graduated and is considering doing Honours next year.

License

Share This Book