Category: humanities

  • Collegiality and competition in German Centres of Excellence

    Collegiality and competition in German Centres of Excellence

    by Lautaro Vilches

    Collegiality, although threatened by increasing competitive pressures and described as a slippery and elastic concept, remains a powerful ideal underpinning academic and intellectual practices. Drawing on two empirical studies, this blog examines the relationships between collegiality and competition in Centres of Excellence (CoEs) in the Social Sciences and Humanities (SSH) in Germany. These CoEs are conceptualised as a quasi-departmental new university model that contrasts with the ‘university of chairs’, which characterises the old Humboldtian university model, organised around chairs led by professors. Hence my research question: How do academics experience collegiality, and how does it relate to competition, within CoEs in the SSH?

    In 2006, the government launched the Excellence Strategy (then known as the Excellence Initiative), which includes a scheme providing long-term funding for Centres of Excellence. Notably, this scheme extends beyond the traditionally more collaborative Natural Sciences, to encompass the Social Sciences and Humanities. Germany, therefore, offers a unique case to explore transformations of collegiality amidst co-existing and overlapping university models. What, then, are the key features of these models?

    In the old model of the ‘university of chairs’ the chair constitutes the central organisational unit of the university, with each one led by a single professor. Central to this model is the idea of collegial leadership according to which professors govern the university autonomously, a practice that can be traced back to the old scholastic guild of the Middle Ages. During the eighteenth century, German universities underwent a process of modernisation influenced by Renaissance ideals, culminating in the establishment of University of Berlin in Prussia in 1810 by Wilhelm von Humboldt. By the late nineteenth century, the Humboldtian model of the university had become highly influential, as it offered an organisational template in which the ideals of academic autonomy, academic freedom and the  integration of research and teaching were institutionalised.

    Within the university of chairs, collegiality is effectively ‘contained’ and enacted within individual chairs. In this structure, professors have no formal superiors and academic staff are directly subordinate to a single professor (as chair holder) – not an institute or faculty. As a result, the university of chairs is characterised by several small and steep hierarchies.

    In recent decades – alongside the rise of the United States as the hegemonic power – the Anglo-American departmental model spread across the world, a shift that is associated with the entrepreneurial transformation of universities as they respond to growing competitive pressures.

    Remarkably, CoEs in the SSH in Germany are organised as ‘quasi-departments’ resembling a multidisciplinary Anglo-American department. They are very large in comparison with other collaborative grants, often comprising more than 100 affiliated researchers. They are structured around several ‘Research Areas’ and led by 25 Principal Investigators (mostly professors) who must agree on the implementation of the multidisciplinary and integrated research programme on which the CoE is based.

    The historical implications of this new model cannot be overstated. CoEs appear to operate as Trojan horses: cloaked in the prestige of excellence, they have introduced a fundamentally different organisational model into the German university of chairs, an institution that has endured over centuries.

    Against the backdrop of these two models, what are the implications for collegiality and its relation to competition? A few clarifications are necessary. First, much of the research on collegiality has focused on governance, ignoring that collegiality is also practised ‘on the ground’. Here, I will define collegiality (a) as form of ‘leadership and governance’, involving relations among leaders as well as interactions between leaders and those they govern; (b) as an ‘intellectual practice’ that can be best observed in the enactments of collaborative research; and (c) as a form of ‘citizenship’, involving practices that signify belonging to the CoE and its academic community.

    Second, adopting this broader understanding requires acknowledging that collegiality is not only experienced by professors (in governing collegialy the university) but also by the ‘invisible’ academic demos, namely Early Career Researchers (ECRs). Although often employed in precarious positions, ECRS are nonetheless significant members of the academic community, in particular in CoEs, which explicitly prioritise the training of ECRs as a core objective. Whilst ECRs are committed full time to the CoE and sustain much of its collaborative research activity, professors remain simultaneously bound to the duties of their respective positions as chairs.

    A third clarification concerns our normative assumptions underpinning collegiality and its relationship to competition. Collegiality is sometimes idealised as an unambiguously positive value and practice in academia, whilst competition – in contrast – is seen as a threat to collegiality. However, this idealised depiction tends to underplay, for example, the role of hierarchies in academia and often invokes an indeterminate past – perhaps somewhere in the 1960s – when universities were governed autonomously by male professors and generously funded through block grants – largely protected from competition pressures or external scrutiny.

    These contextual conditions have evidently changed over recent decades: competition, both at institutional and individual terms, has intensified in academia, and CoE schemes exemplify this shift. CoE members, especially ECRs, are therefore embedded in multiple and overlapping competitions: at the institutional level through the CoE’s race for excellence; and at the individual level, through the competition for getting a position in the CoE, as well as for grants, publications, and networks necessary for career advancement.

    How are collegiality and competition intertwined in the CoE? I identify three complex dynamics:

    • ‘The temporal flourishing of intellectual collegiality’ refers to the blooming of collegiality as part of the collaborative research work in the CoE. ECRs describe extensive engagement in organising, leading or co-leading research seminars (alongside PIs or other postdoctoral researchers), co-editing books, developing digital collaborative platforms, inviting researchers from abroad to join the CoE or organising and participating in informal meetings. Within this dynamic, competition is presented as being located ‘outside’ the CoE, temporarily deactivated. However, at the same time, ECRs remain aware of the omnipresence of competition, which ultimately threatens collegial collaboration when career paths, research topics or publications begin to converge. For this reason, intellectual collegiality and competition stand in an exclusionary relationship.
    • ‘The rise of CoE citizenship for the institutional race of excellence’ captures the strong sense of engagement and commitment shown by ECRs (but also professors) towards the CoE. It is expressed through initiatives aimed at enhancing the CoE’s collective research performance, particularly in anticipation of competition for renewed excellence funding. This dynamic reveals that, for the CoE, citizenship and institutional competition are not oppositional but complementary, as collective engagement is mobilised in the service of competitive success.
    • ‘Collegial leadership adapting to multiple competitions’ highlights the plurality of leadership modes, each one responding to different levels and forms of competition. At the level of professors and decision-making processes at the top, traditional collegial governance is ‘overstretched’. Although professors retain full authority, they struggle to reach consensus and to lead these large multidisciplinary centres effectively. This suggests a growing demand for new skills more closely associated with the figure of an academic manager than a professor. The institutional race for excellence thus places considerable strain on collegial governance rooted in the chair-based system. Accordingly, ECRs describe different and, apparently, contradictory modes of collegial leadership. For example, the ‘laissez faire’ mode aligns with the ideals of freedom and autonomy underpinning intellectual collegiality, but also with competition among individuals. They also describe leadership as ‘impositions’, which, on the one hand, erodes trust in professors and decision-making, but, on the other hand, intersects with notions of citizenship that compel ECRs to accept decisions, even when imposed. Yet many ECRs value and expect a more ‘inclusive leadership’ that support the development of intellectual collegiality. Overall, the relationship between collegial leadership and competition is heterogeneous and adaptive, closely intertwined with the preceding dynamics.

    How, then, can these dynamics be interpreted together? Overall, the findings suggest that differences between university models matter profoundly for collegiality. Expectations regarding how academics collaborate, participate in governance and decision-making processes and form intellectual communities are embedded in specific institutional contexts.

    Regarding the relation between collegiality and competition, I suggest two contrasting interpretations. The first emphasises the flourishing of intellectual collegiality and the emergence of CoE citizenship, understood as a collective, multidisciplinary sense of belonging that is driven by – and complementary to – the institutional race for excellence. The second interpretation, however, views this flourishing as a temporal illusion. From this perspective, competition is omnipresent and stands in a fundamentally exclusionary relationship to collegiality: it threatens intellectual collaboration even when temporarily deactivated; it compels academics to engage in CoE-related work they may not intrinsically value; and it overstretches traditional forms of collegial leadership, promoting managerial modes that erode trust in both academic judgement and decision-making processes. Viewed in this light, competition ultimately poses a threat to collegiality. These rival interpretations may uneasily coexist, and the second one possibly predominates. More research is needed on how organisational contexts affect the relationship between collegiality and competition.

    Lautaro Vilches is a researcher at Humboldt University of Berlin and a consultant in higher education. His current research examines the implications of excellence schemes for transforming universities’ organisational arrangements and their effects on academic practices such as collegiality, academic mobility and research collaboration, particularly in the Social Sciences and Humanities. As a consultant he advises universities on advancing strategic change.

    Author: SRHE News Blog

    An international learned society, concerned with supporting research and researchers into Higher Education

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  • What SHAPE graduates do | Wonkhe

    What SHAPE graduates do | Wonkhe

    As debates continue about the value of degrees, and the role of universities in society and the future economy, understanding graduate outcomes is more important than ever.

    Yet much of the current discussion – and policymaking – is shaped by narrow metrics, which over-focus on graduate earnings.

    This approach overlooks many of the ways graduates contribute to society and distorts our understanding of the value of different subjects.

    The right SHAPE

    The British Academy represents SHAPE disciplines; social sciences, humanities and arts for people and the economy. SHAPE graduates develop crucial skills like critical thinking, creativity and problem solving. These skills help them contribute to tackling many of today’s most pressing challenges, from climate change to the ethical deployment of AI.

    However, we wanted to know more. How do they use these skills? What do SHAPE graduates do after university? How can we best measure the full breadth of their contribution to the UK economy and society? And do we have the data to address these questions comprehensively?

    To help provide answers, the British Academy has launched a new data-rich policy resource, Understanding SHAPE Graduates, which illustrates exactly how SHAPE graduates contribute to the UK economy and society. The toolkit consists of an interactive data dashboard, a series of key findings drawn from the data, and a policy briefing contextualising the measurement of graduate outcomes.

    SHAPE graduates and the economy

    The toolkit offers several myth-busting insights into SHAPE graduate activity, some of which we will outline here. Importantly, it challenges the narrative that SHAPE graduates have weak labour market prospects, showing that their employment rates are strong: 87 per cent of SHAPE graduates were in work in 2023, compared to 79 per cent of non-graduates with level 3 qualifications and 88 per cent of STEM graduates.

    SHAPE graduates also earn significantly more than non-graduates, with an average real hourly wage of £21 in 2023 – £5 higher than the average for those with at least two A levels or equivalent. And you can increasingly find them working in the UK’s fastest growing sectors; between 2010 and 2022, the top three sectors by GVA growth – manufacturing; transport and communication; and professional, scientific and technical services – saw growing numbers of SHAPE graduates. These sectors are outlined in the Government’s Industrial Strategy green paper, and SHAPE graduates comprised 52.8 per cent of the graduate workforce in all of them combined in 2023, up from 45.8 per cent in 1997.

    They are also well represented in the UK’s most productive regions. In 2023, SHAPE first-degree graduates accounted for 71 per cent per cent of the graduate workforce in London, 64 per cent in the North West and 58 per cent in the South East of England – the three regions with the highest GDP levels that year.

    What the data doesn’t show

    While the Academy’s policy toolkit marks a step forward, it also highlights the limitations of current graduate data. For example, while broad categories like SHAPE and STEM are useful, they can mask significant variations between disciplines.

    The toolkit uses the Labour Force Survey (LFS) and the Longitudinal Education Outcomes (LEO) dataset. Most significantly, both LEO and LFS focus primarily on earnings and employment. This narrow lens misses non-financial aspects of graduate impact – such as contributions to public life, wellbeing, culture, and civic engagement – which are especially important in understanding the SHAPE disciplines.

    Limitations in longitudinal graduate data also present specific challenges. Response rates to the LFS have declined in recent years, affecting its robustness, particularly for smaller cohorts like doctoral graduates. And the LEO dataset, which offers rich England-only data by tracking individuals from education into the labour market, has its own knowledge gaps. For example, LEO does not distinguish between full-time and part-time work, making it harder to interpret earnings data, especially for female graduates who are more likely to work part-time due to caregiving responsibilities. LEO also struggles to fully capture self-employed graduates, including freelancers in the creative industries and other sectors, due to its reliance on PAYE data.

    Looking ahead, the HESA Graduate Outcomes Survey (which replaced the Destination of Leavers from Higher Education (DLHE) survey in 2018) offers promise. Over time, it will offer increasingly longitudinal insights to help us deepen our understanding, and it is encouraging to see that HESA is already exploring non-financial measures of graduate activity. We plan to incorporate these into future work.

    Starting the conversation

    The Understanding SHAPE Graduates toolkit shows that SHAPE graduates are vital to the UK economy. As we approach the government’s Comprehensive Spending Review and await the publication of its refreshed Industrial Strategy, we must remember that the UK’s future success depends on drawing talent from across all disciplines.

    We want to continue exploring how we capture non-financial outcomes, to reflect the full value of a university education.

    At the British Academy, we will continue to champion the diverse and vital contributions that SHAPE graduates make across society and the economy. We look forward to working with the sector to develop better data, better metrics, and better understanding.

    You can see and use the data here.

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  • Our future may depend on the humanities

    Our future may depend on the humanities

    It’s natural that universities would contract. It is simply a market correction

    At least, that’s what a colleague recently said to me, referencing the earlier period of—some would say unfounded—growth in the UK’s higher education sector.

    But what we’re seeing now is not a neutral rebalancing of the books. It feels like a dismantling of the humanities, a retreat from the very fields of knowledge that hold the keys to our collective future.

    When and where

    The decisions being made about where and how to cut seem to reflect a logic of short-term profitability rather than long-term sustainability. Humanities programmes—often less lucrative than their STEM counterparts—have suffered disproportionately. Of the 400 job losses initially on the cards at Cardiff University, for example, as many as 120 were expected to be in the Arts and Humanities. Massive cuts in English, anthropology, theatre and music at Goldsmiths or philosophy, art history and music at University of Kent are only the tip of the iceberg.

    And yet, this is happening at the very moment we most need the humanities. As we face accelerating climate change, biodiversity loss, and a wider crisis of sustainability, it may seem natural to double down on disciplines like climatology and engineering. Few would question their centrality to the so-called green transition. But while these fields equip us with essential tools to understand and respond to environmental degradation, they deal with symptoms rather than root causes.

    Humanities in the environment

    Across the UK, humanities scholars are already playing a critical—if underappreciated—role in responding to environmental breakdown. At Bath Spa University, Samantha Walton’s “Changing Practice” project highlighted how a place-based lens, informed by arts and humanities, can help people connect with and care for their local environments, potentially overcoming feelings of detachment when facing large-scale crises like climate change. Through public engagement events, the project connected creative practitioners and academics with communities experiencing disruption and change, nurturing new collaborative networks and contributing to policy discussions about the meaning, ecology, and distinctive cultural characteristics of place. ​

    Researchers at the University of Leeds turned to British Romantic literature to explore how people have historically made sense of extreme weather, applying these insights to contemporary climate engagement. Their research informed collaborations with the Poetry Society and the Wordsworth Trust, including creative writing workshops and a youth poetry competition. These initiatives led to new learning programmes, shifts in classroom practice, and enhanced community well-being through creative expression. In drawing on the emotional and imaginative power of Romantic writing, the project showed how literature can deepen public understanding of climate crisis—not by simplifying it, but by inviting reflection, empathy, and a more expansive sense of connection.

    These are not abstract contributions. They are shaping policy, influencing institutions, and broadening how we respond to crisis. Yet the structures that enable this work are being steadily dismantled.

    The roots of the crisis

    Our current crises stem from narrow, technocratic thinking: a mindset that externalised environmental harm, reduced nature to property, and prioritised short-term gain over long-term survival. The humanities help us challenge that logic. Cutting them is doubling down on what brought us here.

    If universities are worried about low enrolments or declining interest in humanities programmes, the solution isn’t to axe them—it’s to reimagine them. It’s to find new ways of making the humanities matter to young people, and to society at large. That means reframing these disciplines not as relics of a pre-digital age, but as vital forms of inquiry and expression that help us live more fully, think more deeply, and engage more responsibly with the world.

    The role of a university cannot be reduced to supplying the labour force demanded by the current market. It must be a place that helps shape what we value in the first place. That means exposing students to ways of thinking they might not have encountered before. It means helping them see the world—and themselves—differently. And it means igniting the desire to study not only what is profitable, but what is meaningful.

    Pure imagination

    Ultimately, the antidote to our overlapping crises is not just better data or smarter technologies—it is expansive imagination. And that imagination is cultivated not in labs or spreadsheets, but through the critical, creative, and interpretive work of the humanities. Literature, philosophy, history, and the arts help us make sense of ourselves and others. They teach us to interrogate the present, reckon with the past, and imagine futures that aren’t simply extensions of the status quo.

    The humanities don’t just illuminate the blind spots of our civilisation—they challenge its assumptions, complicate its narratives, and expand the range of what we can think and feel. In a time of profound uncertainty, they offer not solutions, but orientation: a deeper sense of what is at stake, and why it matters.

    To treat them as dispensable is to confuse utility with value. The humanities are not a luxury—they are where a society’s ethical and imaginative life takes shape. They won’t give us all the answers, but they keep us asking the right questions—and without that, no future worth having can be built.

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