Breaking! The Acceleration of Knowledge Production in the Era of 24-Hour News

Last week, for no particular reason, I shared a few thoughts about the nature of knowledge production in academe via Twitter. By “knowledge production,” I’m referring to the process by which experts, such as professors, create new knowledge through research. I lamented how a preoccupation with new and cutting-edge research makes it easy to overlook excellent, still relevant research from two decades (or more) ago. Our gravitation towards the novel and shiny coincides with an acceleration of knowledge production--a perceptible increase the speed at which research is created and the frequency at which new knowledge products are released. This blog post explores some reasons for the acceleration of knowledge production in academe, including the influence of the media.

Acceleration of Knowledge Production

If you’re familiar with academic culture, you’ve likely heard the phrase “publish or perish,” which describes the pressures that professors experience to publish their research in order to be rewarded and recognized, namely being granted tenure. These days, many professors tell you they experience pressures not just to publish, but to publish regularly. Most of the professors I know are working on multiple research projects simultaneously, and they have several manuscripts under review and/or in press. The goal it seems is to have a steady stream of research being published, and more is always better for career advancement. This strategy has, not coincidentally, emerged in a highly competitive academic labor market, which leaves many people believing the only protection against precarity is producing in excess.

The result of this mad dash to publish regularly is that many professors feel they don’t have enough hours in the day to complete their work. They finish one writing project just to start another, meet a deadline just as the next approaches. This cycle of trying to publish more and more--with no finish line--has obvious consequences for mental health and has contributed to a “slow professor” movement. Maggie Berg and Barbara Seeger wrote a book on the subject, which seeks to help professors slow down and “act with purpose, taking the time for deliberation, reflection, and dialogue, cultivating emotional and intellectual resilience” (p. 11). Sociologist Jana Bacevic has an excellent blog post on this in which she questions whether professors can truly read all of the knowledge being produced and argues that one means to resist neoliberalism in higher education is to simply publish less. I encourage you to read her post.

Reasons for the Acceleration

There are multiple reasons for the acceleration of knowledge production, and I’ll only briefly mention some of the more obvious reasons before focusing on some that are less obvious. Some of the more obvious reasons include heightened competition for jobs, sponsored/grant money, and various recognitions coveted by professors (e.g., keynote speaker, editorial board member). Institutions have contributed to this competition by reducing tenure-track positions, emphasizing publication counts and other quantitative measures of research productivity, and elevating research in tenure evaluations as part of strategies to accrue resources and prestige. And, let’s be honest, professors do a fair amount of self-harm by pushing themselves to publish more and more, seeking to be “known” and avoid slipping into perceived irrelevance.

There are a few other reasons, some of which I haven’t seen discussed much, which may contribute to the acceleration of knowledge production in certain fields. I have written elsewhere about the increasing use of quantitative research methods in my field, and I have a sense that this might be true of other fields. This trend could contribute to the acceleration of knowledge production among those who are particularly adept at mining datasets with statistical analysis programs. I’m not suggesting that quantitative research is fast, easy, or sloppy. Nevertheless, I think it is possible to go from research questions to complete manuscript at a faster speed using quantitative research methods compared to qualitative research methods, which may entail interviewing/transcribing, field work, and/or archival research. As more people have started using quantitative research, it’s possible research is happening faster and being released more regularly. I'm curious to hear from others if they think this is true.

Higher education has been under assault in the last few decades, which has resulted in a de-legitimization of professors and their contributions to knowledge production. This has created space for other knowledge producers to emerge. I can’t help but notice that many media companies seem to now be in the business of data analytics, producing stories with sleek infographics.  Additionally, there is an abundance of non-profits, consultancies, and philanthropic organizations that produce their own analyses and reports. Professors are now attempting to disseminate their research in an extensive ecosystem of knowledge producers, and many of these non-academic producers have significantly more time and financial resources. Every time I log on to Twitter, I see a new report or story from a major newspaper, funder, or think-tank being announced. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing (though I’ll reiterate my point above about how feasible it is to consume all of this information). However, I again ask if the development of this ecosystem is accelerating knowledge production. In the era of the 24-hour news cycle, there’s a breaking story every 30 minutes. We may have a similar phenomenon happening as professors hustle to produce research and keep up with other knowledge producers.

Parting Thoughts

I’m troubled by the acceleration of knowledge production because I’m not yet convinced it is yielding enhanced outcomes. In fact, it is possible that there is significant wastage or inefficiency in how we’re pursuing publication right now. There may be redundancies of effort, inaccuracies in results, and hours of time spent reviewing work better spent reflecting on big questions. I’m also concerned that the normalization of the speed at which research is presently produced will make it increasingly difficult to undertake projects that require time. Does the nature of knowledge production today make it possible for someone to spend multiple years working on an important research question, even if the product is just one manuscript? Ultimately, I agree with Bacevic that we ought to step back and slow down. Give thought to the pressures pushing us to publish and deliberate on our own motivations. I’d like a little less culture of “breaking news” in research and a little more “taking a break.”

The Aspirational Class, Inconspicuous Consumption, and Higher Education

While running errands this weekend, I caught a segment of one of my favorite podcasts, Hidden Brain. The segment featured Elizabeth Currid-Halkett, the James Irvine Chair in Urban and Regional Planning at the University of Southern California. Currid-Halkett researches, among other things, American consumer culture. In the segment, she describes some key insights from her recent book, The Sum of Small Things: A Theory of the Aspirational Class. The podcast and book have multiple implications for higher education. After hearing the segment, my brain started firing about some of the less obvious ramifications for higher education of Currid-Halkett’s ideas.

As the title of her book suggests, Currid-Halkett argues that a dominant, cultural elite has emerged, which she terms the “aspirational class.” As something of an update to Thorstein Veblen’s The Theory of the Leisure Class, Currid-Halkett contends that this class is not defined primarily by income, but rather by “collective consciousness upheld by specific values and acquired knowledge and the rarefied social and cultural processes necessary to acquire them” (p. 18). The primary characteristic unifying this new elite is valuing and acquiring knowledge, and the process by which they obtain knowledge and form values is what reveals their social position. Basically, if we subscribe to the idea that we’re living in a global knowledge economy, knowledge and its acquisition through education and other activities becomes a type of currency to signal status both materially and symbolically.

Members of this class aspire to use cultural capital and knowledge to make better “decisions around what to eat, how to treat the environment, and how to be better parents, more productive workers, and more informed consumers” (p. 18). The ways in which people enter the aspirational class and signal social position influences consumption. Veblen’s “leisure class” engaged in “conspicuous consumption,” buying things and participating in activities that were utterly nonfunctional and wasteful to signal social position. By contrast, the aspirational class engages in “inconspicuous consumption,” spending heavily on education, organic food, nannies, yoga classes, retirement, and health care. Underlying this inconspicuous consumption is the belief among aspirational class members that their spending is for the good of society. However, as Currid-Halkett explains on Hidden Brain: “These behaviors and practices reinforce their privilege and reinforce the privilege of their children in a way that superficial material goods don't pass on from generation to generation.”

So, what does Currid-Halkett’s theory of the aspirational class and their inconspicuous consumption habits have to do with higher education? A number of things, some more obvious than others.

The most obvious, of course, is that graduating from college (what Veblen considered “conspicuous leisure” among the ultra wealthy) is now a prerequisite for membership in this dominant, cultural elite. In the words of Currid-Halkett: “Mobility into the top echelon of the new world order is reliant on acquisition of knowledge, not birthright, not property held for generations, and not, sadly for many, loyalty to one’s work institution” (p. 17). Extending Currid-Halkett’s ideas just a little further, we might say that within the aspirational class, more education signals greater acquisition of knowledge, which equates to greater social status. This sheds light on increasing numbers of people pursuing graduate education.

If one of the ways in which the aspirational class signals social position is spending on education, it is possible that spending hefty amounts on college tuition within this group is a status play. In other words, among a certain group of people, spending a fortune on a private institution is desirable because it establishes their social position. Members of the aspirational class don’t want a cheap public college. Sure, they may outwardly complain at dinner parties about what they are paying for their child’s tuition. But this complain-brag serves a signaling purpose. It is possible that some elite private schools, acknowledging this segment of society, have pursued high tuition prices precisely because they understand the symbolic value of paying such significant sums on education among the aspirational class. Certain public colleges, including some of the elite research universities, work hard to recruit talented, non-resident students. Rather than be associated with affordable public colleges, they may be pricing themselves ever closer to elite private schools to attract the aspirational class.

The aspirational class may also be shaping campuses and the curricular/co-curricular experiences offered to students. Given the aspirational class’s penchant for spending on wellness and sustainable agriculture, we might expect to see campuses investing heavily on recreational centers and wellness centers, offering a full range of pilates classes. Additionally, we might anticipate that campus dining options shift in the direction of locally-sourced, organic produce and products. As Currid-Halkett notes, it’s difficult to critique spending on these things. We might even say they contribute to the good of society. However, pilates classes and organic peaches aren’t cheap. It’s possible that the consumer preferences of the aspirational class are making many aspects of the college experience more expensive for all students, including low-income students more preoccupied with survival than yoga.

My guess is that the aspirational class is best positioned to take advantage of campus offerings like internships and study abroad, two activities that we perhaps might not readily associate with social status. Nevertheless, these two activities often require significant resources. Many summer internships are unpaid, requiring that college students have resources to pay living costs, often in expensive cities, to participate in them. Study abroad programs often entail program fees, flights, and other costs that make them prohibitively expensive for the majority of college students. In order to promote participation, colleges could be investing to subsidize and reduce the costs associated with these experiences. Instead, I see far more colleges and universities utilizing internships and study abroad as marketing tools, perhaps in a strategic move to speak the language of the aspirational class.

In short, I can foresee a number of ways in which certain colleges and universities have shifted to become hubs of the aspirational class, and this shift, in turn, has made them inaccessible to other groups lacking the resources required to enter this new elite. My colleague, Andy Ryder, and I have tackled similar issues in our work on students’ spending, sense of belonging, and campus climate for affordability (see here and here). But I think there is more work to be done at the intersection of higher education and the changing patterns of American consumer culture.

The Problem with the UMBC "Cinderella Story"

Last week, college basketball fans witnessed a historic event. For the first time ever, a No. 16 seeded team upset a No. 1 seeded team. The University of Maryland-Baltimore County (UMBC) Retrievers not only beat the University of Virginia Cavaliers--they beat them by 20 points. As often happens with upsets, the story of UMBC’s victory went viral on social media, especially during a time when many Americans are desperate for some good news. UMBC was quickly branded this year’s “Cinderella Story.”

Writing about the idea of a “Cinderella Story” for NPR, Linda Holmes notes: “Americans will call almost anything a Cinderella story that involves a good thing happening to someone nice. We slap that title on movies and books, but also on basketball games won by tiny schools full of scrawny nerds.” She goes on to suggest that most variations of the story include “a mistreated young woman, forced to do menial work, either cast out or unloved by her family. She has an opportunity to marry well and escape her situation, but she gets that chance only after being mistaken for a higher-status person.” In many ways, I think this latter description better fits UMBC and many institutions like it.

UMBC is an excellent university with a strong reputation, particularly in the mid-atlantic region. This reputation developed largely separate from athletics. Yet it took playing in the most competitive tournament in college basketball, and pulling off an almost miraculous feat, for people to suddenly wake up and see UMBC. In the words of Jerry Brewer of the Washington Post, “After a 74-54 win over Virginia, UMBC has America’s attention. It is ready to listen to every remarkable thing about the university.” This is wonderful for UMBC’s players, students, faculty, staff, and leadership. However, it reveals a major problem in this country: our long-term, systematic neglect of public regional universities. Although UMBC got its moment in the spotlight, hundreds of institutions will never get a shot at the big dance. And this big-time oversight has big-time consequences.

I have spent the last four years working at a public regional university, and I also happen to research them. Incidentally, my university’s basketball team fell to Virginia in the first round of last year’s tournament. So, I know a few things about public regional universities and being the underdog. Having spent 7 years working in higher education in Maryland, I was certainly familiar with UMBC before their big win. Let me tell you a few reasons why we should not only pay attention to public regional universities, but also better fund and reward them for their unique contributions to U.S. higher education, irrespective of what happens during March Madness.

First, public regional universities educate a significant number of Americans. One estimate shows that public regional universities enroll two-thirds of people attending public, four-year colleges and universities. Some people might understandably ask, “So what?” After all, bigger and more elite institutions also educate many students. The difference is that public regional universities educate a much larger proportion of low-income, racially minoritized, and first-generation students than bigger and more elite institutions. Using the same estimate referenced above, public regional universities educate an astounding 85% of African American students, 74% of Hispanic/Latino students, and 70% of American Indian students attending public, four-year institutions. As one president I interviewed put it, public regional universities are “institutions of opportunity for the underserved.”

Second, public regional universities are affordable and efficient. Many Americans are worried about the price of college and how public institutions are stewarding taxpayer money. Public regional universities have had to figure out how to keep their prices low for a long time because of the types of students they serve. Raising tuition too high at public regional universities can have disastrous consequences for enrollment, retention, and persistence. Even though all public institutions have been affected by reductions in per-pupil state funding, there is reason to believe public regional universities have been disproportionately hurt by state disinvestment. Unlike bigger and more elite institutions, public regional universities can’t frequently rely on alternative revenue sources like major private gifts or overhead from federal grants to offset budget cuts. Instead, they have to figure out how to pursue excellence with insufficient resources. It shouldn’t be too surprising that research shows that many public regional universities are cost efficient.

Third, public regional universities are committed to high-quality teaching and student success. One persistent myth I have encountered in my research is that, based on metrics like retention and graduation rates, public regional universities are lower-quality compared to bigger and more elite institutions. My contention is that we shouldn’t give much weight to comparisons between public regional universities and institutions that enjoy phenomenally more resources and educate very different students. If we instead focus on what is actually happening at public regional universities, several features stand-out. Public regional universities are home to scholar-teachers who devote significant time to teaching and provide an unparalleled level of care to students. This type of personal attention to students, by the way, is particularly important for low-income, racially minoritized, and low-income students. It is worth noting that, as many other institutions figure out how to attract and educate the growing population of “non-traditional” students, public regional universities have been helping these student succeed for decades. We should start seeing public regional universities as thought leaders in serving these students.

Lastly, public regional universities are regionally-oriented, anchor social institutions, many of which serve economically depressed and rural areas. One president I interviewed called his university a “beacon of hope” in the region because it was the only organization hiring people during the Great Recession. If we were to remove public regional universities from the regions they serve, we would effectively eliminate a major employer, a major producer of well-educated employees, a major cultural institution, and a major source of hope in one fell swoop. And we shouldn’t shortchange this last point. As recent reporting has demonstrated, a public regional university is sometimes one of a few sites of opportunity in areas struggling with poverty and unemployment. My hypothetical scenario may sound extreme, but we should keep in mind that several states are experimenting with their systems of public regional universities, and some are considering closings and mergers.

Despite my “Debbie Downer” introduction, we should absolutely celebrate UMBC. Buy UMBC t-shirts. Donate to UMBC. However, if we wait for the next big game to pay attention to public regional universities, we continue a pattern of under-appreciating and under-investing in what I believe are the most important higher education institutions in this country. Aside from cheering on the Retrievers, here are a few things we can do to reverse this pattern.

One simple thing we can do is to scrutinize our language. Many people refer to public regional universities as “non-elite,” “non-selective,” or “non-flagship.” These labels often position public regional universities in negative relation to something we see as more valuable. I actually think we should throw the label “flagship” out the window. It wrongly suggests that there is one important institution in a state and a whole bunch of supporting institutions that don’t merit notice. I use the term public regional university, but others use regional comprehensive university.

If we are in a position to donate money to a college or university, I contend we ought to donate to public regional universities. As an employee of a public regional university, I’m biased, but I think the donation goes farther at our institutions. My undergraduate alma mater is a wealthy private college. I have the fondest memories of my time there, but they are financially in good shape. My donation makes more of a difference at a place like UNCW.

Journalists and researchers need to get over their infatuation with bigger and more elite institutions. Research on public regional universities is not nearly as developed as it should be, given the importance of these institutions. And much of it is quantitative in nature, which can be helpful, but doesn’t always tell the story of these institutions in a nuanced way. Journalists (and researchers) almost always discuss public regional universities from a deficit perspective, recycling a narrative of institutions in crisis, struggling to stay open, on the brink of extinction. Stop that. Take the enthusiasm that emerged from the UMBC victory and apply that appreciative lens to public regional universities broadly.

Finally, we should ask big questions about state funding formulas and other processes by which institutions receive public support. I’ve heard from many people at public regional universities that a disproportionate share of resources flows to bigger, more research-oriented universities. It’s possible that performance-based funding exacerbates these inequities. I struggle to argue for cutting funding to any public institution, but I’m more uncomfortable with the idea that public regional universities are not being funded at levels commensurate with their contributions.

Like Cinderella, many public regional universities are cast out, mistreated, and unloved unless they are given the chance to be viewed as something higher-status. UMBC got that chance, but it is just one institution among many. My hope is that we can view public regional universities as national treasures without having to rely on the magic of a major sports victory.