For many NZ scholars, the old career paths are broken. Our survey shows the reality for this new ‘academic precariat’
Dr. Leon Salter
July 8, 2022
As in many Western countries, New Zealand’s universities have become increasingly reliant on casual and temporary employees to run classes and undertake research. The situation is becoming critical, both for young academics themselves and for the country in general.
The problem has been recognised in a recent OECD report as affecting the well-being of individual researchers and undermining national capacity to undertake vital research “necessary to address urgent societal challenges”.
The New Zealand government has also recognised the issue, acknowledging recently in its Te Ara Paerangi – Future Pathways green paper that “early career researchers are particularly vulnerable to career uncertainty and precarity”. Submissions on this and related issues are now being reviewed.
But focusing only on early career researchers (ECRs) creates a false separation between teaching and research, given our Education and Training Act stipulates the former should be informed by the latter.
In turn, this implies the system is comfortable with students being taught by workers on precarious, short-term contracts, with little professional development or hope of career progression.
Our report, Elephant in the Room: Precarious Work in New Zealand Universities, is based on a survey of 760 academics on fixed-term or casual contracts (including both postgraduate students and those with PhDs) across New Zealand’s eight universities. It shows the majority are stitching together a mix of short-term research and teaching contracts in an attempt to make ends meet.
Rather than being called “early career researchers”, we argue the term “academic precariat” better reflects the reality of a highly skilled workforce defined by insecure, short-term contracts, coupled with a sense of disposability and marginalisation.
The traditional (but never formalised) ECR model is based on two years spent on a single fixed-term, postdoctoral research position, before a move to a permanent lecturer post.
Due to underfunding and the increasing corporatisation of university management structures, however, both postdoctoral and permanent lecturer posts are increasingly rare in New Zealand, particularly outside the “STEM” subjects (science, technology, engineering and mathematics).
The introduction of the Performance-Based Research Fund (PBRF) in 2003, which provides 20% of funding for universities based on assessments of individual staff members research performance, has also contributed to an increase in the use of precarious contracts.
This is because casual or short-term contractors reduce the teaching burden on PBRF-assessed staff, so the latter can focus on their research outputs. This has seen the emergence of a two-tier system where permanent academic staff effectively have their careers sustained by an army of casualised academic workers.
Rather than this being a short-term hardship, the two-tiered system has translated into academics spending years – sometimes entire careers – cycling through contracts that leave them with no security and little autonomy or professional development.
At the same time, they are highly vulnerable to changes in student demand or funding from research grants.
Our survey results show a majority of participants (62%) had been employed on precarious contracts (casual or fixed-term) for more than two years, with nearly a third (28.9%) for more than five years.
A total of 60% also reported their contracts were the most precarious types: either casual, with no guarantee of ongoing work (25%), or a fixed-term of less than six months (35%). Less than a quarter (22%) had contracts lasting 12 months or more.
This means they must take on multiple contracts to get by, with nearly half (47.8%) taking on three or more employment agreements in the past 12 months.
Unsurprisingly, with multiple short-term contracts being the norm, nearly half (44.9%) of all survey participants said they had no access to any form of professional development in their roles.
Only 26.3% of participants had access to performance reviews, 21.4% to peer reviews or mentoring, and just 12.5% to formal role-specific upskilling.
We also found some evidence this system reinforces structural racism, echoing other research arguing that academic pathways for Māori and Pasifika aren’t working.
In our survey, over three-quarters of both Māori (77.4%) and Pasifika (76.9%) participants were currently enrolled students (compared to 51.9% of the overall sample), taking teaching or research contracts to supplement their studies.
The majority of those students (47.6% of Māori and 57.7% of Pasifika) were enrolled in non-PhD courses (compared with just 25.8% of Pākehā). PhD study is the recognised path into academia, and the need to take on multiple precarious contracts while studying is impeding that path for Māori and Pasifika students.
Even greater numbers of international students reported being employed on casual or fixed-term contracts of less than six months than the general survey participants (67% compared to 60%).
At the same time, over half (56.7%) of international students expressed a lack of confidence they would have sufficient ongoing academic work in the next 12 months, and relied on personal savings (63.8%) and accepting extra work even when it risked jeopardising the completion of their degrees (60.9%).
At the same time, one third of survey participants (33.7%) had personally experienced discrimination, bullying or harassment, or otherwise felt unsafe in their workplace. Women (36.3%), people aged over 50 (46.5%), Māori (42.9%), Pasifika (50%), “other” ethnicities (47.6%), and people who were deaf or disabled (47.3%) were over-represented in this cohort.
The survey also enquired into health and well-being in the context of a pandemic and the additional workloads involved in the move to online learning, combined with universities signalling cutbacks and redundancies due to the loss of international student revenue.
Participants were asked to rate their current stress levels out of ten, with the mean being 6.94. Some 43% of participants reported high to very high stress levels (8-10). Most troublingly, 30% disclosed a mental illness. These participants reported one of the highest mean stress levels (7.39) of any subgroup.
Feelings of isolation and lack of support from managers were widespread, as over a quarter (27.6%) of staff with a mental illness suggested they had no understanding at all of who to approach for support.
Overall, our report provides compelling evidence that the traditional career path of early career researchers is now largely broken. This is causing significant harm to those who attempt to take it, while reinforcing existing inequities.
Ultimately, if allowed to continue, this reality will severely compromise the country’s future capacity to keep and grow the best researchers.
Equity must extend to universities
Luke Oldfield
June 8th, 2021
For those in the university sector, Budget 2021 might be best described as the mother of all holding patterns. It was a reminder that the Government has at least some willingness to pursue policies leading to more equitable outcomes for school-aged children, but is not as willing to address the structural disadvantages facing less privileged university students.
Overall, there was little in the Budget for universities which have shed academic and professional staff at the same time as domestic student enrolments have skyrocketed.
Meanwhile, Labour’s attempt at progressively introducing free undergraduate or equivalent study has been abandoned, melting away like a partly eaten ice cream dropped onto the pavement. In practical terms it had accomplished little except moderately reducing the debt burden on students already likely to attend university.
Researchers also found that of the small number of students encouraged to go to university as a consequence of free fees, they were more likely to come from disadvantaged backgrounds, less likely to adjust well to the university environment, and more likely to report a desire to depart the institution without completing their studies.
A better use of resources within universities might be more targeted assistance across the academic pipeline, from foundation programmes (pre-degree) to postgraduate study. Foundation-level study has been under financial stress for over a decade, with universities outsourcing and, in some cases, disbanding programmes altogether.
Exacerbated by the economic impacts of the pandemic, another university went as far as asking staff if they would consider assisting in the programme for free. Foundation programmes are spaces where students, many of whom come from family backgrounds where academic success might be the exception not the norm, get a second chance. To succeed, they need tailored guidance, high quality and culturally responsive teaching and greater material support.
Every week I hear from students at all levels of study who cannot afford public transport from the outer suburbs of Auckland into the city. Even with a tertiary subsidy, many are paying close to $10 per day for a return trip – an outrageous cost which only compounds problems for those who are materially disadvantaged. Government-backed free or flat-rate public transport for all tertiary students, commonplace in parts of Europe and North America, would help level the playing field.
The gaps become more apparent in postgraduate spaces. This semester I have been teaching an Arts discipline to a first-year cohort, with a student group that is a microcosm of Auckland – a diverse mix of energetic and hard-working students. Across the hallway is a postgraduate class in the same discipline, the sort of programme that launches people into a career in the public service. The difference in demographic makeup of the classes is a reminder that the removal of postgraduate student allowances has, among other things, had a disastrous impact on promising Māori and Pacific students.
If the Labour government wants to deliver on its Māori policy initiatives, like its new Māori Health Authority, it will need to improve the levels of Māori expertise and capacity on hand. We can only do this by fixing the broken pipeline of capable students from diverse backgrounds seeking advanced qualifications.
Not everything can be resolved with the Budget. Part of improving outcomes in academia will require structural changes to how universities operate. Free tertiary education should also remain the long-term goal. But in the meantime, we could at least prioritise the resources we do have into the areas they are needed most, those students who did not win the birth lottery of upper-middle class financial security.
Sorry NZ, but if my folks were rich I would have gone to Harvard
Dr. RituParna Roy
August 22nd, 2020
International students, do we, or don’t we?
The question will inevitably reemerge as Auckland lifts back out of level 3 restrictions. Recently our university vice-chancellors along with former Prime Minister John Key stirred the debate, expressing an urgent need for international students to be allowed back in.
Hundreds of millions in revenue is at stake. Without the borders reopening to students it seems our business-minded universities have settled on austerity as their interim policy response. For the academic precariat, that means less work for more people and usually those that can least afford it.
The current student-border discussion is predominantly centered on the health and economic well-being of New Zealanders. Absent is any appreciation for the lived experience of our international students, and in particular what was not right before a menacing virus decimated the balance sheets of our universities.
Arriving in Auckland 10 years ago to embark on postgraduate study, I obtained two degrees, built a network of friends, married a kiwi and decided to stay. It has not always been a pleasant experience.
One week after arriving I got a welcome not uncommon for many international students, “F___ off, Indian b____”, when asking a group of teenagers for directions at New Lynn train station.
Great, I thought, I’m not even an Indian!
Meanwhile, the cost of pursuing a Masters was over $30,000 in course fees. Though barely enough to rent a home in Auckland for 12 months, my tuition costs alone were the equivalent of a small fortune back in Bangladesh.
I understood the cost of studying here, though I was less aware of the outrageous cost of living. Consequently, I borrowed thousands more from my extended family, while my parents poured in their entire life savings.
Let that be the first myth to dispel; most international students are not well off. Like myself, they probably belong to the aspirational middle-class of their home countries. While our world-class universities in Aotearoa are precisely that, we should not fool ourselves into believing that they are the first choice of global elites and their offspring. Those affluent enough are probably headed to Harvard or Cambridge not Auckland or Waikato.
Over-reliance on international student revenue is also questionable from an ethical standpoint, it incentivises universities to extract the highest possible dollar for the least amount of cost. When these students do arrive, it is often made worse by landlords and employers who prey on ignorance and vulnerability.
For me, survival in Auckland meant working in a convenience store for what ended up being much less than the minimum wage. Luckily, I moved on to work as a university tutor and have since managed to survive by working one contract to the next.
With much of this contract work disappearing next year, there is every chance I will be unemployed, that is despite working for almost a decade across three different New Zealand universities. Without a university affiliation I will be unable to access academic literature, conduct research and contribute to my field.
But I am by no means the worst off.
Currently I am teaching a cohort of mostly international students who managed to arrive before the border closed. I worry about them. As credit lines tighten across Asia, many are likely stuck with the unenviable choice of working long hours in New Zealand without being adequately remunerated, or returning home to countries ravaged by COVID-19.
Austerity measures earmarked by our universities will hit these students the hardest. It is not just less work inside the sector but what this work represents i.e., language, academic and learning support services that are critical for international students to keep pace with their domestic counterparts.
The second myth is that international students come here on a pathway to residency. It cost me thousands of dollars, a bit of luck, and a whole lot of patience – even a Ph.D. obtained in New Zealand did not guarantee me residency. Instead, thousands of international students return home each year. Some have become disillusioned while others had no intention of hanging around, especially when it meant being routinely discriminated against by members of the public.
The most optimistic view put forward regarding the tertiary sector is that international student enrollments will rebound due to our relative success in managing COVID-19. Some of these arguments have been naive, particularly those which suggest international students would be interested in staying abroad and embarking on wholly online programs. University is as much about building networks through socialization than it is about content learning, these are not experiences which are readily acquired through a zoom call.
Such optimism also belies an unfortunate reality. For many years now, our international students have been taken for granted. They are treated as cash cows by universities who charge obscene sums to back-fill the chronic under-funding of domestic students by successive governments. We should not be fooled in to thinking that brand-New Zealand is immune to criticism on these matters. If we continue to treat international students poorly, there is a risk of losing their siblings to the world-class institutions of other countries.
So my plea moving forward is simple. As we inch toward a post-COVID reality, we expand on the ‘kindness’ narrative set our by our government so that it applies to everyone, including our most recent arrivals.
Dr Rituparna Roy is the International Equity Advisor for the Tertiary Education Action Group Aotearoa (TEAGA), she currently teaches postgraduate research methods at AUT.
Double the Marsden fund #doublethefund
Luke Oldfield
June 24th, 2020
Today marks the submission deadline for full Marsden proposals.
We congratulate everyone who progressed to the final round in what is a grueling process of developing, refining and communicating cutting-edge research ideas. Marsden grants are among the most sought after prizes for research funding each year as hundreds of academic staff submit applications covering the full spectrum of disciplines, from arts to atoms.
This year the Marsden application process progressed while COVID-19 laid bare the precarious nature of employment in research spaces across universities in Aotearoa / New Zealand.
The Tertiary Education Action Group Aotearoa (TEAGA) believe that an important step in addressing this issue, is for the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Enterprise (MBIE) to increase its funding to the Royal Society in 2020 with the purpose of expanding the Marsden fund.
The Marsden fund is one of our most rigorously assessed schemes, with peer-reviewed studies having shown that there would be no loss of quality expected if twice the number of grants were funded — no other research funding scheme can say as much.
However, only around 10% of Expressions of Interest are ultimately funded in any one year, while only 45% of (invited) full proposals are awarded funding.
These grants bring in much needed employment and professional development opportunities for postgraduate and early-career academics, through the funding of PhD scholarships, research assistant and post-doctoral positions.
This is at a time when universities are attempting to cut costs, through axing research support and teaching staff on precarious short-term contracts and increasing the workload of full-time staff.
The pandemic has also caused considerable disruption to existing Marsden recipients, and while some have had deadlines extended, the salary funding necessary to complete this work has not been extended. Many early-career academics are on fixed-term contracts which are tied directly to funding from Marsden grants. An expectation that early-career academics continue their work unpaid only jeopardizes their ability to complete these projects.
If we #doublethefund each of these issues could be addressed. We propose that government work alongside MBIE to ensure an increase in funding from $83 million to $166 million in 2020, allowing for the following:
- Up to 70% of full – Marsden proposals be funded in the 2020 application round.
- A contingency fund for existing Marsden recipients to apply for COVID-19 related income relief.
Such measures would be a win for all stakeholders in tertiary education through bolstering a sector under extraordinary pressure. All the while, maintaining the high standard of recipients worthy of grant funding, and the volume of research outputs expected of our world-renowned universities.
“Job losses threaten the quality of our universities”
Luke Oldfield
May 18th, 2020
When the public thinks of casual employment, they might think of teenagers working after school at The Warehouse, or backpackers picking seasonal fruit as they bounce around the countryside. Our universities are actually no different, increasingly relying on casual and temporary employees to run classes and undertake research.
These positions can be best described as precarious; unstable, and often only months-long, offering no guarantee of ongoing employment. While academic roles were largely once permanent, it is now common for an “early-career academic” to work from one semester to the next being paid only for the hours they are offered (usually less than the actual hours worked).
Meanwhile, they often still produce published research, without compensation, in the hope it builds the CV necessary to obtain a full-time academic position. In a nutshell, attempting to grind out a career in academia was incredibly difficult even before the pandemic took hold.
Our open letter to the education minister states that casual and fixed-term roles at universities are overwhelmingly taken up by postgraduate students and early-career academics, and it is exactly these jobs which are most at risk. That might seem fair game to some, especially with the universal levels of suffering being felt across the economy. But simplistic arguments of income v outgoings obscure an important discussion about the implication of decisions being made today, and how they will impact the future makeup of tertiary education.
Academia comprises three things: research, teaching, and service to professions and the community. Due to the nature of university rankings, the ability of our institutions to continue providing teaching and service relies on us maintaining the production of high-quality research. Rightly or wrongly, a key driver in the measure of a university’s performance globally is the level at which its faculty produces research; this ranking determines the number of international students we attract to New Zealand.
Before Covid-19, international students coming to our shores were part of a multibillion-dollar industry, responsible for employing thousands of Kiwis. To compensate for slashing the casual workforce, our universities must divert full-time staff towards more teaching, pastoral care, and administrative tasks. This reduces their ability to apply for funding or undertake the research necessary to remain internationally competitive, and financially recover, once the pandemic is over.RNZAt least two universities are considering cutting staff pay to help confront the crisis posed by the multimillion-dollar loss of income from international students.
Another concern is that of student equity. For anyone to complete what is essentially an eight-year academic apprenticeship, or longer, it is almost certainly done through an element of aroha; a belief in the importance of education and progressing the next generation.
Multiple universities are making worrying noises about “shifting pedagogies”, coded language for keeping teaching online indefinitely, long after the threat of Covid-19 has passed. If we care about high-quality outcomes for students, this must simply not be allowed.
International research has repeatedly shown that shifting online is largely detrimental to learning outcomes. This is especially true for undergraduate students, many of whom are attempting to overcome social disadvantage through obtaining a higher education. If we stay online, we also risk impinging on the social responsibility we have as learning institutions to rebalance underlying social forces with consideration to Te Tiriti.
Furthermore, virtual universities bulldoze the hidden, yet crucial, socialisation process that happens on our campuses. It is at our university campuses that our next generation of leaders will meet, debate, collaborate and build the necessary social intelligence to make a meaningful contribution to our future society.
Thursday’s Budget provided no respite from the challenges faced by our universities, and in recent weeks Government ministers have ignored our request to save the most vulnerable of our staff. These are the very positions which our postgraduate students, our next generation of researchers, use to supplement their limited incomes. So as the axe swings across the industry in response to the collapsing international student enrolments, an academic career for which tens of thousands of dollars and a decade of study have been invested will become a near impossibility.
The short-term solutions are remarkably simple: most universities need a cash injection, and should be pressed to ensure it is used appropriately (protecting vulnerable jobs, scaling up research and reducing the associated overheads).
The vice-chancellor of Victoria University of Wellington has forecast up to $397 million in losses from the pandemic across the sector in 2021. When contrasted with the billions we are already spending keeping the private sector afloat, this is not a significant amount; especially when it is also an investment in keeping people employed, and rebuilding a sector that is a major economic contributor.
