The University Center of Samaria, an Israeli institution in the West Bank settlement of Ariel, is pushing to be declared an official university on par with those in Israel proper, and the request has angered many Israeli academics as well as Palestinians and others who oppose building up Israeli institutions in the West Bank, Haaretz reported. The center currently has temporary status as a "university institution," which provides for it to receive more money than colleges do in Israel, but not as much as universities. That status expires in July, setting off a debate over the future of the institution. The center enrolls nearly 13,000 students. Israeli politicians who are skeptical of giving up the West Bank have backed the expansion of the center, and are pushing for university status.
More than 1,000 professors at universities in Israel have signed a petition opposing any elevation of the center's status, saying that they are opposed to "the attempt to enlist academia in service of the occupation." Some Israeli university presidents have also opposed a new status for the center, saying that such a change would lead to more money being spent there at a time that the other universities need more support.
The Modern Language Association's Executive Council has approved a statement on the importance of language learning to U.S. policy. The statement calls the learning of foreign languages "vital" and goes on to explain why. "We believe this view should be uncontroversial; anyone interested in the long-term vitality and security of the United States should recognize that it will be detrimental for Americans to remain overwhelmingly monolingual and ill informed about other parts of this increasingly interdependent world," the statement says. "We are therefore deeply alarmed by the drastic and disproportionate budget cuts in recent years to programs that fund advanced language study. We believe that advanced language study is important for the same reasons many policy makers, advisers, and elected officials do: Americans need to be literate about the languages and cultures of the United States’ major trading partners, and Americans need to be literate in the so-called strategic languages important to national security."
Manipal University, a private institution in India, is in talks to open a campus in China, in collaboration with two universities in that country, Tianjin University and Tongji University, The Hindu reported. The campus being planned would be the first in China to offer a program in information technology and other sciences, taught only in English.
Irish historians have watched the legal case relating to the witness statements from participants in the conflict in Northern Ireland held by Boston College with great interest and with no little trepidation.
Regardless of the ultimate outcome of the case, there are real fears that the controversy has already jeopardized the collection and preservation of historical material relating to the conflict in Northern Ireland.
One friend, who was instrumental in helping University College Dublin Archives to secure a significant collection of private papers that includes material relating to the Northern Ireland peace process, remarked recently that it would have been more difficult to convince the donor to preserve his papers and donate them to an archive if the controversy at Boston College had previously been known.
The great difficulty here is that any comprehensive history of the Northern Ireland conflict will be very dependent on statements from the men and women who were directly engaged in the events: republicans, loyalist paramilitaries, police, British army personnel, politicians, public servants, and the ordinary people whose lives were shaped by the conflict. The nature of the conflict in Northern Ireland was such that no existing archive can expect to stand as sufficient sources for the writing of plausible history; the words of the people who lived through (and participated in) the conflict need to be preserved to allow for the creation of a more meaningful historical record.
The Boston College interviews are one of several series of interviews that currently exist, or are now being collected. Oral history is especially important if we are to tell the story of everyday life during these years, and the motivations and reflections of men and women who did not hold positions of leadership.
Irish historians are very conscious of the importance of such testimonies, because a comparable archive exists relating to the 1916 Rising and the Irish war of independence. In the 1940s and early 1950s the Bureau of Military History – funded by the Irish government – collected statements from men and women who participated in these events. Some of those men and women engaged in violence or other acts about which they might not have been willing to speak publicly. The statements were finally released in 2004, 50 years after they were collected, when all the witnesses had died.
Although this delay has been criticized, it shows a respect for the witnesses and indeed for all who were affected by the events narrated in these testimonies. These statements, and the anticipated release shortly of thousands of Military Pension Files, containing further firsthand statements from those involved in the War of Independence, provide a permanent and valuable record of a critical period in the emergence of contemporary Ireland.
These firsthand accounts have transformed the understanding of these years, bringing it to life in a manner that more formal records cannot do.
The oral statements of participants in the conflict in Northern Ireland offer a similar potential to provide a rounded account of these years. This will only happen, however, if those making statements can trust the record-taker, and trust the place where these records are deposited.
This trust requires firm assurances that the statements will not be released prematurely, or divulged other than under the terms agreed. The witness statements should be collected with the intent of creating a long-term historical record; while there may be an understandable eagerness to gain access to them, in order to be first with the story – they are best left undisturbed for a significant period of time. Essentially, they should be collected and protected for posterity – not for the present.
University College Dublin (UCD), in common with other research universities, has a clear code of ethics that applies to all material that relates to identifiable individuals; securing their consent to any use that permits them to be identified is a key requirement.
In addition researchers and archivists must observe the requirements of the Data Protection Act, which precludes the revealing of personal information – relating to matters such as health, family circumstances or financial records, and these regulations are strictly enforced. Many of the private collections deposited in UCD Archives can only be accessed with the permission of the donor.
While testimonies relating to paramilitary activities are obviously of a particularly sensitive nature, there are recognized laws and procedures in place that protect the witness, the archive, the archivist and the researcher – provided that they are observed.
The issue may become more complex when records are transferred from one country to another, if the legal framework relating to data protection and disclosure is different, but again, a robust protocol and clearly-determined governance – agreed before any records are compiled – should reduce these risks.
Oral histories are extremely valuable sources for posterity, and they are becoming of still greater importance in an age when communication increasingly takes the form of telephone conversations, e-mails, texts, tweets and other means; these are obviously less easily preserved than letters or written memorandums.
Ultimately, there will be lessons to be learned from the specifics of the Boston College case. The overarching ambition must remain unchanged: to ensure that a trusted record of the past can be compiled and preserved for posterity.
Mary E. Daly is professor of modern Irish history at University College Dublin.
It was a rare spectacle: a senior administrator of a leading international university, speaking at a conference of peers, issued a public "thank you" to those who compile university rankings. The rankers – me included -- more typically face criticism of the power and influence we wield.
But Chen Hong, director of the office of overseas promotion at China's Tsinghua University, told the World 100 Reputation Network conference in Washington in May: "We should thank those organizations who publish these indicators. At least we can find something for comparison and benchmark our own performance."
Reflecting the approach that my magazine, Times Higher Education (THE), has taken to disaggregate the overall composite ranking scores in our publications, she explained: "What is useful for us is the detailed indicators within those rankings. We can find out comparable data, benchmarking various universities and use them for planning."
Indeed, there is growing evidence that global rankings – controversial as they are – can offer real utility. But those of us who rank must also be outspoken about the abuses, not just the uses, of our output.
There is no doubt that global rankings can be misused.
It was reported recently, for example, that a $165 million Russian Global Education program would see up to 2,000 Russian students each year offered “very generous” funding to attend institutions around the world – but that qualification for the generous scholarships will be dependent on the students attending an institution in the top 300 of the Times Higher Education World University Rankings. Brazil’s hugely ambitious Science Without Borders scholarship program to send 100,000 Brazilian students overseas similarly links the scholarships to THE-ranked institutions.
While such schemes offer a welcome endorsement of the rigor of THE’s rankings data (provided by Thomson Reuters) and its ranking methodology, speaking as the (rather flattered) editor of the THE rankings I'd still suggest that they are ill-advised.
Global university ranking tables are inherently crude, as they reduce universities to a single composite score. Such rigid adherence to the rankings tables risks missing the many pockets of excellence in narrower subject areas not captured by institutionwide rankings, or in areas of university performance, such as knowledge transfer, that are simply not captured well by any ranking.
One of the great strengths of global higher education its extraordinarily rich diversity, which can never be captured by the THE World University Rankings, which deliberately seek only to compare those research-intensive institutions competing in a global marketplace and which include less than 1 percent of the world’s higher education institutions.
In this context, a new declaration from a consortium of Latin American university rectors agreed in Mexico City last week must be welcomed as a sensible and helpful contribution to the rankings debate. The declaration, agreed at a two-day conference at the National Autonomous University of Mexico, entitled "Latin American Universities and the International Rankings: Impact, Scope and Limits," noted with concern that "a large proportion of decision makers and the public view these classification systems as offering an exhaustive and objective measure of the quality of the institutions."
The rectors’ concern is of course well-placed – no ranking can ever be objective, as they all reflect the subjective decisions of their creators as to which indicators to use, and what weighting to give them. Those of us who rank need to work with governments and policy makers to make sure that they are as aware of what rankings do not -- and can never -- capture, as much as what they can, and to encourage them to dig deeper than the composite scores that can mask real excellence in specific fields or areas of performance. That is why I was delighted to be in Mexico City last week to joint the debate.
The meeting, which drew together rectors and senior officials from 65 universities in 14 Latin American countries, issued a call to policy makers to "avoid using the results of the rankings as elements in evaluating the institution’s performance, in designing higher education policy, in determining the amount of finance for institutions and in implementing incentives and rewards for institutions and academic personnel."
I would – to a large extent -- agree. Responsibly and transparently compiled rankings like THE’s can of course have a very useful role in allowing institutions, like Tsingua and many, many others, to benchmark their performance, to help them plan their strategic direction. They can help governments to better understand some of the modern policy challenges of mass higher education in the knowledge economy, and to compare the performance of their very best research-led institutions to those of rival nations. The rankings can help industry to identify potential investment opportunities and help faculty member make career and collaboration decisions.
But they should inform decisions -- never drive decisions.
The Mexico declaration said: "We understand the importance of comparisons and measurements at an international level, but we cannot sacrifice our fundamental responsibilities in order to implement superficial strategies designed to improve our standings in the rankings."
Some institutional leaders are not as sensible as those in Latin America.
Speaking at the same Washington conference where Chen Hong gave thanks to the rankers, Pauline van der Meer Mohr, president of the executive board at Erasmus University, Rotterdam, confirmed frankly that proposals for a merger between her institution and Dutch counterparts the University of Leiden and the Delft University of Technology were “all about the rankings.”
The three Dutch institutions calculated, she explained, that merged as one, they would make the top 25 of world rankings, while separately they languish lower down the leagues. "Why would you do it if it doesn't do anything for the rankings?" she asked.
But the merger did not take place. It was dropped because of a mix of political unease, fierce alumni loyalty to the existing “brands,” and an “angry” response from research staff. Researchers at all three institutions, van de Meer Mohr admitted, had asked: "You are not going to merge universities just to play the rankings game?" To do so, they had concluded, would be "ridiculous."
I believe that those Dutch academics were quite right.
Phil Baty is editor of Times Higher Education rankings.
Last summer I spent a month in China, teaching a graduate seminar on American higher education at Wuhan University. Since that country is trying to improve its institutions of higher learning, there is considerable interest there in understanding how American research universities became as good as they are today. My course focused on the University of California, which is particularly relevant to China’s efforts for two reasons: UC’s spectacular success and its status as a high-quality university system, as opposed to just a high-quality campus.
This is an important example for a country that is trying to create widespread excellence among its best universities. Initiatives include the 211 project, which seeks to enhance the quality of 100 leading universities, and the 985 project, which provides additional funds to the top 38 institutions, particularly to the top nine of these, for further quality enhancement.
My graduate seminar went well, and my students were very engaged. I was impressed by their enthusiastic desire to improve higher education in China, as well as by their realism and common sense, which made me feel optimistic about the future of their country. My students were eager to discuss ideas freely. Their comments appeared quite candid, although critical views were usually tempered by statements to the effect that things were improving, seemingly the standard way of discussing problems in that country, where a rhetoric of progress permeates public discourse.
My students talked to their friends about my class, and I was soon invited by the local student organization to give a campus lecture about how China could build world-class universities. This aspiration, in my opinion, is the Chinese version of the “American Dream,” that country’s holy grail where progress is concerned. I do not think it a coincidence that the first global ranking of universities was produced in China in 2003, when the Institute of Higher Education at Shanghai Jiao Tong University conducted its Academic Ranking of World Universities (ARWU) to determine where Chinese universities stood relative to others.
The study concluded that no Chinese university ranked among the world’s top 100 institutions, thus establishing some benchmarks and goals for the country’s higher education system.
In my presentation to the student organization, I focused on how the University of California had become a world-class university system. The thrust of my comments was that all of the stars were aligned: visionary leadership, independent faculty, top students, a rich and supportive state, an attractive location, and a democratic spirit. As a result, the building of the University of California system stands out as the most spectacular academic success story of the 20th century.
An important factor contributing to UC’s success has been the presence of visionary academic leaders at key moments in its development: Daniel Coit Gilman (1872-1875), who articulated the vision of an elite university responsive to the democratic needs of the state -- a public Ivy; Benjamin Ide Wheeler (1899-1919), who transformed the Berkeley campus into a top institution of higher learning; and Clark Kerr (1958-1967), who built up the University of California system as we know it today. Whether China is willing to allow strong academic leadership to emerge at its universities, which are currently under political control, is an open question, but without such leadership, I think that it will be difficult to build truly outstanding institutions of higher learning.
A crucial factor in UC’s success has been the presence of a committed and accomplished faculty. UC’s unique promotion and merit process, a rewards system with performance evaluations every two or three years, has kept the faculty unusually engaged and productive. This process is overseen by the systemwide academic senate and campus faculty senates, which are very powerful. So, in addition to enjoying academic freedom, faculty members have a great deal of control and a strong sense of ownership of the institution. The tenure-track faculty is quite egalitarian, and young professors direct doctoral dissertations and join important committees from the start of their faculty careers, a situation that enhances innovation.
Chinese universities seem less focused on rewards than on punishment when it comes to faculty performance evaluations. In addition, junior faculty members have limited involvement in decision making. And all faculty members have relatively little power and significant limitations placed on their academic freedom. These conditions would have to change for the faculty to bloom and become truly outstanding.
Another important factor contributing to UC’s excellence has been the quality of its students, who are chosen from among the best in the state through a relatively flexible selection process. China has very competitive entrance examinations for its universities. In fact, examinations are the most important means of selecting students at all levels. The problem is that this method of selection does not necessarily recognize creativity, nor does the style of college teaching prevalent in that country, which is focused on memorization, encourage it. A better way of identifying talent will have to be devised if China is to tap its best minds fully and encourage them to think freely.
It is worth examining the status in China of the other three factors contributing to UC’s success, namely, a rich and supportive state, an attractive location and a democratic spirit. China is becoming rich quite quickly, and it seems very supportive of higher education, boding well for the future of its universities.
Less clear is how physically attractive it is to international faculty and students. The country might have to undergo further material development before its institutions of higher learning are able to attract people from other nations in significant numbers. After all, the United States did not draw many faculty members or students from abroad until the end of World War II, when it had become the most advanced country in the world. Last, but nor least, a democratic spirit has been a critical reason for the success of the University of California and of all American research universities.
This is perhaps the biggest challenge: a catch-22 for China’s leaders whose dream of building world-class universities cannot come true without the kind of political change they have been trying to avoid. The rhetoric of progress has its limits. As of now, the country does not appear democratic enough to foster truly great institutions of higher learning. Will China ever change in this respect?
If young people can have their way, I believe it will, for they are eager for their country to join the society of advanced nations. The “Chinese dream” of building world-class universities is really a dream of political normalcy, because there can be no world-class universities without freedom -- academic and otherwise.
Young people are very aware of this, which is why they look at the future with a healthy combination of doubt and hope.
Cristina González is a professor of education at the University of California at Davis. This essay is drawn from her book Clark Kerr’s University of California: Leadership, Diversity, and Planning in Higher Education (Transaction Publishers, 2011).