Politicians and Academics

In a recent response to a post on the popular blog, “Whither the U of A,” one anonymous poster suggested that Mr. Lukaszuk should follow an academic around for a day, a week, or month, and then claim that profs are lazy.  The poster then stated that the politician could never want the job of an academic.  Although I believe that the academic field appeals only to a few people in a population, I also believe that statement is also true of politicians.

I would like to suggest that the job of the academic and the job of the politician are not that different, if looked at in a peculiar way.  A politician on Twitter indirectly represents the party that politician stands for; an academic on Twitter indirectly (though not legally) represents the institution by whom that academic is employed.  In the Nerf-world of social media, both politicians and academics still must deal with the hard reality of actual consequences.

Politicians do real work in meetings; they are often required to do them in face-to-face meetings (where the best work and discussion is often done); these meetings often (though not always) require travel.  Politicians often do difficult, thankless work alone, as they read through page after page of reports, white papers, and other things with words that politicians read.  Politicians need to know not only what is stated in those papers but what is implied; they need, in other words, to be aware of context.  When they are in legislature, politicians need to be able to read people, context, and situation on the fly, and they need to be able to react to it with the research and preparation they have done.  They need to be alert, aware, on their toes.  But they also need to explain in legislature what they think and why they think it.  Despite this, it is a legislature because it is not a one-way street; if those in the legislature disagree or misunderstand the member who is speaking, then the onus is upon that member to make his or her statements clearer, more specific; evidence, support, more attention to detail is often required.  In the legislature, the member who is speaking is not the most important person; it is only a person who is speaking on behalf of those that person represents.  These statements hold true for Ministers, too.

Now, in the previous paragraph, substitute “politicians” with “academics;” “legislature” with “classroom;” and "Ministers" with "Deans."

Too many people think that politicians do nothing of value than the work they do when they meet in legislature, unless that work immediately produces money.  Sorry, I got that confused.  Too many people think that academics do nothing of value if they are not teaching or the research they do is not immediately making money.  Do you see, Mr. Lukaszuk?  Our jobs (our careers, our vocations) are not all that different, with the only exception that you appear to despise the very fact of the existence of my field of study, since I teach in the Arts and Humanities.  However, I must say, I do not write a tweet every time I finish reading a poem, every time I finish grading a paper.  Politicians are very good at advertising every moment they do something that is in some way relevant to their job.  By nature, academics do not brand or sell themselves publicly all that well.

Mr. Lukaszuk, I would not want to follow you around for a day, a week, or a month; I already know I have no desire to have your job; I also know that you work long hours.  Nevertheless, I think that you believe your job is to dictate what others think and learn in order to serve your masters.  I think my job is to expose my “customers” to ideas and let them voice their opinions about them, to “consult” with them; my job is to assess the value of my customers’ “purchases” (by which I mean “essays”???). . .  And it is exactly here that the metaphor that “a student is a customer" fails.  EDUCATION IS NOT A BUSINESS.  (I’ve said it before; I’ve said it before in all capital letters, but you still do not understand.)  Grocery stores do not require us to pay for food and then, after having paid, require us to sing for it.  The person at the till then does not decide, based on the quality of our singing, if we should be able to have the good rutabaga, the bad rutabaga, or no rutabaga at all.  Good grief, Mr. Lukaszuk, would you please stop with your failed analogy?  No “stakeholder” is buying it.

Our jobs are similar; there is no doubt about it.  Politicians and academics work long hours; even those hours spent on “social media” are often actually hours spent working.  The amount of time I have spent responding to you and your government’s cuts to the “business” of education might have been more fruitfully spent teaching students how to read carefully, how to think critically, how and why to enjoy and love art, how to respond to people and institutions who refuse the voices of the disenfranchised--those very people you and your government refuse to hear, let alone listen to.

You think and say you are on the side of students:  I dare you to prove it, Mr. Lukaszuk.  I dare you.  Prove your devotion to students by actually giving the funding institutions require; and do it in a way that does not mean more buildings and fewer people.  Do it in a way that might indicate that you might have some small understanding of what a university is or does; do it in a way that makes it look like you care.  Do it in a way that doesn’t look like a political move.  I hate to use a slogan, Mr. Lukaszuk, but please, just do it.  Support those students you so love by supporting the institutions they so require.