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Navigating Pathways to Community: Exploring the Experiences of
Community-Engaged Humanities and Social Science Academics
Wade Kelly
B.Ed., M.Ed.
Submitted in fulfilment of the requirements for the
Degree of Doctor of Philosophy
of the Swinburne University of Technology
2019
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Abstract
This research examines the experiences of academics participating in
community engagement activities. Specifically, the project examines the
various factors (individual and institutional) engaged HSS scholars navigate
and negotiate in order to situate themselves and their research outside of
academe. The research questions probe: 1) How do academics who participate
in community engagement activities conceive of their responsibility to the
public?; 1a) How do academics balance community engagement activities with
their teaching, research, and service requirements?; 1b) How have they come to
understand their role as academics with regards to the broader community?; 2)
What supports are required in order to do community engagement work?; 2a)
What are the information activities related to community engagement work?;
2b) What role does the institution play in supporting or hindering community
engagement work?; 3) How might academics who engage in community
engagement activities inform academics who are not engaging in such
activities?; 3a) What implications might there be for measuring societal impact,
including through formalised assessment frameworks?; and 4) What are the
information behaviours (e.g., information needs, seeking, use) of academics
who participate in community engagement activities? This qualitative
constructivist grounded theory study recruited interview participants in two
countries (Canada and Australia) to scrutinise the complexity of the
community engagement landscape in academia. The findings explore: what
community engagement is and why and how it occurs; what participants
consider engagement to be and the types of engagement activities that are
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conducted (for example media and research activities, are highlighted); why
they conduct engagement activities; engagement’s nebulous nature and how it
contributes to shaping their academic identities; and, how they are supported
(through institutional units, colleagues, etc.), acknowledged (by superiors,
colleagues, and community), and rewarded (through the promotions process).
In spite of considerable institutional rhetoric proclaiming a commitment to
community engagement, in many cases engagement activities are not
adequately supported by institutions and are rarely rewarded in the promotions
process. Finally, the notion of societal impact is considered, and participants
reflected on how they envisaged it may shape their research, careers, and
disciplines. Academic participants were cautious of formalised societal impact
assessments, seeing them as another administrative requirement to complete
but offering little net benefit to them or to non-academic communities. They
questioned the value of the societal impact assessments and cautioned that
they had the potential to minimise and undermine the importance of smaller-
scale HSS projects. Recommendations for how universities may achieve robust
community engagement, through changes in policy, support structures, and
reward systems, are discussed, alongside areas for future research.
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Acknowledgements
My first thank you is to my participants; I am humbled by your generosity.
Many made time for me between meetings, around conference presentations,
on weekends, and once, only hours after an international flight. They shared
their time, experience and wisdom. More importantly, to my community-
engaged participants, thank you for making your communities better. Your
passion is contagious and the work you do is inspiring.
I had two candidature committees at two institutions. The feedback and
support I received from both were invaluable. The self-doubt that inevitably
comes with setting your work in front of new eyes was met with
professionalism, candour, and care. Thank you, Professor Katherine Albury, Dr
Christina Davidson, Dr Samantha Edwards-Vandenhoek, Dr Brian Hemmings,
Associate Professor Narelle Lemon, and Professor Tim Wess for your time and
wisdom. I also wish to extend appreciation to my examiners — whoever you are
— who took the time to provide robust feedback which ultimately strengthen
the scholarship.
I gratefully acknowledge the support for this research from Charles Sturt
University and Swinburne University of Technology for their generous
scholarships, and the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of
Canada for the doctoral fellowship (752-2016-0028). My sincere thanks to Dan
Given for editing the thesis for consistency, grammar and spelling.
To those who welcomed us into your communities, in Wagga Wagga and
Melbourne, thank you. I would not have gotten through the PhD without a
network of friends around the world offering me their ears, sending me notes,
and topping off my glass. Thank you all, but especially Becky, Jacquie, Jen,
Fanny, Zelmari, David, Mirren, Nick, Simon, Cessalee, Scott, John, Dan, Erika,
Marsha, Tim, and Lauren. And of course, there’s Eleanor, whose bubbly
personality got me through a great many pomodoro.
Nerd Nite was a perfectly productive distraction. I thank the audiences for
coming out and the bosses in Melbourne (Doris especially) for welcoming me
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to your team. It was the perfect balm to the isolation that academia can be for
an extrovert like me.
I have relied on a network of academics who have supported and
encouraged me during the PhD process. Thank you for your support, advice,
and advocacy. I also want to single out my master’s supervisor, Professor André
Grace. I thought my undergraduate degree would be my last but a coffee with
André changed that. Throughout the PhD he has continued to offer his support
and guidance.
A colossal thank you to my supervisors, Professor Lisa Given and Associate
Professor Mary Anne Kennan. I am indebted to you for the efforts you have
invested in my academic development. Thank you for challenging me in the
best possible way. I am a better researcher because of you both. I would like to
extend a special thank you to Lisa who saw in me what I didn’t see in myself
and convinced me to relocate around the world. The PhD has been a journey in
so many ways, thanks for inviting me along for the ride.
I was lucky to be born to the best parents in the world. Thank you for
encouraging me always and instilling a thirst for knowledge and learning.
Michelle, Bryce, Olivia, and Breckin, your FaceTime calls meant/mean more
than you’ll ever know.
Finally, to my husband Phil, thank you for reading drafts, listening to my
diatribes, offering me guidance and support, and just, in general, being
outstanding. I could not have done this without you. You make life better. You
make me better.
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Declaration
This thesis contains no original material by the author that has been
accepted for the award of any other degree or diploma. To the best of my
knowledge, this thesis contains no material previously published or written by
another person, except where due reference is made in the text of the thesis.
Wade Kelly
21/11/2019
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Table of Contents
Abstract ............................................................................................................... ii Acknowledgements ............................................................................................. iv Declaration ......................................................................................................... vi Table of Contents ............................................................................................... vii Chapter 1: Introduction ...................................................................................1
1.1 Purpose ................................................................................................. 3 1.2 Community Engagement ...................................................................... 4 1.3 Societal Impact Assessments ................................................................ 6 1.4 Significance of the Project .................................................................... 8 1.5 Scholarly Contribution ......................................................................... 8 1.6 Research Questions .............................................................................. 9 1.7 Organisation of the Thesis ................................................................... 11 1.8 Summary .............................................................................................. 11
Chapter 2: Literature Review ......................................................................... 12 2.1 Community Engagement for Academics .............................................. 14
2.1.1 Increasing Pressures on Academics ............................................................................. 15 2.1.2 Academic Identity in Community Engagement ......................................................... 16 2.1.3 Academics’ Information Behaviours ............................................................................ 18
2.2 Scholarly Communication ................................................................... 23 2.2.1 History of Scholarly Communication ..........................................................................23 2.2.2 Scholarly Communications in the 20th Century ....................................................... 24 2.2.3 Bibliometrics...................................................................................................................25 2.2.4 Altmetrics ...................................................................................................................... 27 2.2.5 Scholarly Communication Going Forward ................................................................ 28
2.3 Community Engagement Across the Disciplines ................................ 30 2.3.1 The Scholarship of Engagement: Towards a Taxonomy of Engagement ................32
2.3.1.1 Community Engagement and Academics .............................................................. 33 2.3.2 Geographic Differences in Community Engagement ................................................37
2.3.2.1 Canada .................................................................................................................. 38 2.3.2.2 Australia ............................................................................................................... 38
2.3.3 Engagement Methods ................................................................................................... 39 2.3.3.1 Public scholarship ............................................................................................... 40 2.3.3.2 Participatory Research ........................................................................................ 40 2.3.3.3 Community Partnerships .................................................................................... 41 2.3.3.4 Public Information Networks ............................................................................. 41 2.3.3.5 Civic Skills or Civic Literacy ................................................................................ 41 2.3.3.6 Conclusions on Engagement Methods ............................................................. 42
2.3.4 Community Engagement in Humanities and Social Sciences ................................. 42 2.3.4.1 Civic Literacy Through Media Engagement ..................................................... 43 2.3.4.2 Community Partnerships ................................................................................... 44 2.3.4.3 Participatory Research ........................................................................................ 45 2.3.4.4 Conclusions on Community Engagement in HSS ........................................... 46
2.3.5 Community Engagement in Health Research ........................................................... 46 2.3.5.1 Canadian Context ................................................................................................ 47 2.3.5.2 Australian Context .............................................................................................. 49 2.3.5.3 Benefits of Community Engagement in Health Research .............................. 50 2.3.5.4 Conclusions on Community Engagement in Health Research ....................... 51
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2.3.6 Community Engagement in Science ............................................................................ 51 2.3.6.1 Conclusions on Community Engagement in Science ..................................... 54
2.3.7 Technology-Mediated Engagement Research ........................................................... 54 2.3.7.1 Social Media ..........................................................................................................55 2.3.7.2 Open Access (OA) and Other Publishing Strategies........................................57 2.3.7.3 Conclusions on Technology-Mediated Research............................................. 58
2.4 University Positioning of Community Engagement ........................... 58 2.4.1 Academics’ Preparation for Community Engagement ............................................. 60 2.4.2 Institutional Supports for Community Engagement ................................................ 62 2.4.3 Review, Promotion, and Tenure (RPT) ...................................................................... 63
2.5 Societal Impact ................................................................................... 68 2.6 Conclusion to Chapter 2 ....................................................................... 73
Chapter 3: Research Design .......................................................................... 74 3.1 Organisation of the Chapter ................................................................ 75 3.2 Methodology ........................................................................................ 75
3.2.1 Epistemology ................................................................................................................. 76 3.2.2 Methodological Framework: Constructivist Grounded Theory .............................. 77 3.2.3 Supporting Theories ...................................................................................................... 81
3.2.3.1 Social Positioning Theory .................................................................................... 81 3.2.3.2 Job Characteristics Theory ................................................................................. 82 3.2.3.3 Social Identity Theory ......................................................................................... 83
3.3 Method, Interviews ............................................................................. 84 3.3.1 Documents ..................................................................................................................... 86 3.3.2 Sampling ........................................................................................................................ 87 3.3.3 Interview Analysis ......................................................................................................... 88
3.4 Ethics .................................................................................................. 90 3.5 Overview of Study Participants ........................................................... 92
3.5.1 Academic Participant Inclusion Criteria and Sampling ........................................... 92 3.5.2 Key Informant Participants: Inclusion Criteria and Sampling ................................ 93 3.5.3 Participants Details ....................................................................................................... 93
3.6 Data Quality and Rigour ..................................................................... 96 3.7 Qualitative Writing of Results ............................................................ 97 3.8 Limitations ......................................................................................... 98 3.9 Conclusion to Chapter 3 ..................................................................... 100
Chapter 4: Discussions and Findings What it Means to Engage: The Nebulous Nature of Engagement ...................................................................................... 101
4.1 The Varied Nature of Community Engagement ................................. 102 4.1.1 What it Means to Engage ............................................................................................ 103 4.1.2 Getting In: Navigating Community Access ................................................................ 110
4.1.2.1 Leveraging Previous Projects for New Ones .....................................................111 4.1.2.2 Accessing Community Through Intermediate Organisations ....................... 115 4.1.2.3 Network Mobilisation for Community-Engaged Research ............................ 116 4.1.2.4 Serendipity: A Pathway to Community ............................................................ 121 4.1.2.5 Community Organisation Burnout .................................................................. 122 4.1.2.6 Value of Research for Community ................................................................... 124 4.1.2.7 Conclusions on Navigating Community Access ............................................. 126
4.2 Media Engagement: An Exploration .................................................. 126 4.2.1 In Press: Public Engagement and the Written Word .............................................. 128
4.2.1.1 Print in Australia and The Conversation: The New Norm for Communicating with the Public Through Text ................................................................. 129 4.2.1.2 Print in Canada ................................................................................................... 133
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4.2.2 Disciplinary and Individual Differences on Screen .................................................. 135 4.2.3 Social Media: “I Definitely Use it Strategically” ........................................................ 139 4.2.4 Academic Freedom: Media Engagement Ambiguity ................................................ 141 4.2.5 Conclusions on Media Engagement .......................................................................... 143
4.3 Motivations to Engage: It is all About the Community ...................... 145 4.3.1 It is About Making a Difference ................................................................................. 147 4.3.2 Influencer, Advocate, Activist .................................................................................... 149 4.3.3 Conclusions on Motivations to Engage ...................................................................... 151
4.4 Conclusion to Chapter 4..................................................................... 152 Chapter 5: Discussions and Findings Institutional Priorities: Disincentives for Engagement ................................................................................................ 154
5.1 Influencing Community Engagement Through Academic Leadership 155
5.1.1 De/valuing Community Engagement Through Policy and RPT Processes ........... 156 5.1.1.1 What counts as Community Engagement? Definitional RPT Issues ................ 160 5.1.1.2 Knowing Your Place: RPT Processes and Career Stage ....................................... 163 5.1.1.3 Playing the Policy Game: The Pragmatist’s Approach ......................................... 171 5.1.1.4 It’s Still Publish or Perish: ................................................................................. 173
5.1.1.4.1 Ever Moving Goal Posts: “Mechanisms to be Unachievable?” ................. 176 5.1.1.5 Engagement as Service, or Not Counted at All .................................................... 180
5.1.1.5.1 Service Downgraded to Volunteer ............................................................... 182 5.1.1.6 Differing Priorities: Smaller Universities Making Engagement Gains ......... 184 5.1.1.7 The Complexity of Change: Piecemeal Change is Still Change ......................... 188
5.1.1.7.1 National Level Change: Engagement in Canada ........................................ 188 5.1.1.7.2 University-Based Change .............................................................................. 190
5.1.2 Engagement Allies in Management: Gatekeepers or Door Crashers ..................... 192 5.1.2.1 University Senior Executives: Acting Beyond Policy........................................... 193
5.1.2.1.1 Leveraging Authority to Enable Engagement ............................................ 194 5.1.2.1.2 Championing Engagement: Senior Executive ............................................ 196
5.1.2.2 Local (faculty, school, department) Management Enabling Community Engagement............................................................................................................................ 199 5.1.2.3 Conclusions on Administrator Support .......................................................... 203
5.1.3 Conclusions on Academic Leadership of Community Engagement ..................... 204 5.2 Searching for Non-Academic Supports in the University .................. 204
5.2.1 Support Divisions for Community-Engaged Research ........................................... 205 5.2.1.1 Missing the Mark with Training ........................................................................... 206 5.2.1.2 Embedded Knowledge Brokers ........................................................................ 207 5.2.1.3 Dedicated Engagement Support ...................................................................... 209 5.2.1.4 Library Support ................................................................................................... 210 5.2.1.5 Conclusions on Support Divisions for Community-Engaged Research ........ 211
5.2.2 Media Divisions: Serving Themselves .......................................................................... 211 5.2.2.1 It’s All About the Undergrads ........................................................................... 212 5.2.2.2 Media Divisions: “They’re Everywhere!” .......................................................... 213 5.2.2.3 Competing Priorities for Leadership and Academics..................................... 215 5.2.2.4 Media Training Access Inconsistent ................................................................ 217 5.2.2.5 Social and Digital Media Misfires and Mixed Messages ................................ 218 5.2.2.6 Conclusions on Media Divisions ..................................................................... 220
5.2.3 Multifaceted Engagement Support ............................................................................. 221 5.2.4 Conclusions on Non-Academic Supports in the University ...................................... 223
5.3 Conclusion to Chapter 5 ..................................................................... 225 Chapter 6: Discussions and Findings Societal Impact: Unprepared and Apprehensive 227
6.1 Definition Ambiguity: What is Societal Impact? ................................ 231
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6.2 Justifying What We Know: The Value of Impact Assessments ........... 235 6.3 Tracking Societal Impact: What Counts ............................................. 241
6.3.1 Am I Having an Impact outside of Academe? .......................................................... 241 6.3.2 How will we Evidence Societal Impact? ................................................................... 243 6.3.3 Preparing for Societal Impact: Training and Support ............................................. 245
6.4 Impact Apprehensions: Metrics Running the Research Agenda ........248 6.5 Conclusion to Chapter 6 .................................................................... 251
Chapter 7: Conclusion .................................................................................. 253 7.1 Overview of Findings ......................................................................... 253
7.1.1 Motivation .................................................................................................................... 253 7.1.2 Academic Balance ....................................................................................................... 254 7.1.3 University Positioning ................................................................................................. 255 7.1.4 Conclusions on Findings ............................................................................................ 256
7.2 Contribution to the Scholarship of Engagement ............................... 257 7.3 Contribution to Information Science ............................................... 260 7.4 Model: Community-Engaged HSS Scholar’ Pathways to Community . 261 7.5 Future Research ................................................................................. 263
7.5.1 Engagement and Impact in HSS................................................................................ 263 7.5.2 Doctoral Preparation for Engagement and Impact ................................................. 264 7.5.3 Meeting the Information Needs of Community ...................................................... 265
7.6 Practical Implications ....................................................................... 266 7.6.1 Community-Engaged Scholars .................................................................................. 266 7.6.2 University Support of Engagement ........................................................................... 268
7.6.2.1 RPT Processes .................................................................................................... 269 7.6.2.2 Graduate Education .......................................................................................... 269 7.6.2.3 Professional Development and Support Units ............................................... 270
7.7 Conclusion to Chapter 7 ..................................................................... 271 References ......................................................................................................... 272 Appendix A: Sample Semi-Structured Interview Guide................................ 325 Appendix B: Information Letter .................................................................. 327 Appendix C: Recruitment Information........................................................ 329 Appendix D: Consent Form .......................................................................... 330 Appendix E: Recruitment Information........................................................ 331 Appendix F: Example Coding Tree .............................................................. 332 Appendix G: Participant Descriptions ......................................................... 333
Academic Participants .................................................................................. 333 Key Informant Participants .......................................................................... 337
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Chapter 1: Introduction
How academics balance community engagement activities alongside their
three core areas of academic responsibility — teaching, research, and
service/administration — is at the centre of this research. The study is an
exploration of the many forms that engaged scholarship takes for Humanities
and Social Science (HSS) scholars, and the pathways they navigate to situate
themselves and their research in the community and is a contribution to the
scholarship of engagement that sits within the study of higher education. As
will be discussed in Chapter 2, while there is considerable research concerning
the methods that researchers might employ when doing community-engaged
work (e.g., best practices into community-based action research), there is
minimal research pertaining to the activating mechanisms that permit such
work to take place in the first place; that is, the individual and institutional
factors that promote and support community engagement work. The little work
that has been done at individual and institutional levels tends to be
quantitative in nature and generally does not attend to the unique
characteristics of HSS. While there has been discussion around community
engagement and the scholarship of engagement in literature since the early
1990s, the majority of it comes from an American perspective. This research
contributes to the scholarship of engagement by providing individual voices
through a qualitative approach, focusing on HSS scholars in Australia and
Canada and the ways they navigate institutional structures in order to conduct
engagement activities.
The work life of an academic revolves around the three core pillars,
teaching, research, and service/administration; yet, as Coaldrake and Stedman
(1999) indicate, “such headings do not do justice to the variety and complexity
of tasks that occupy most academics” (p. 13). Academia is messy — straight
lines denoting firm barriers are non-existent. There is blur and blend between
and across the teaching, research, and service components. For example, an
academic presenting a public talk might consider such work to be service, but it
may also be considered teaching. Depending on the situation, it could very well
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be part of a research project as well. Butin (2012) defines community
engagement as being “composed of a loosely interrelated set of programs,
practices, and philosophies such as service-learning, civic and community
engagement, public scholarship, and community–based research” (p. 3).
Barnett (2005) envisions community-based activities —what he terms civic
duty or public service — as primarily falling under the purview of an academic’s
service responsibilities; however, he points out that often this element is
neglected or ignored entirely as a result of the mounting pressures from the
more heavily-weighted teaching and research portfolios. Barnett notes,
While there has always been competition in academic life, such
pressures have been exacerbated in recent years due to the globalization
of the higher education market and attempts by government to audit
research and teaching excellence as part of a new culture of
accountability and performativity. (2005, p. 172)
However (as will be discussed later in this thesis), the audit culture has in the
last few years extended to engagement and impact as well, which is starting to
shift institutions’ focus to include service activities to a greater degree. The
range of possible community engagement activities is tremendous, but in most
institutions there is little attention paid to these with regard to annual
performance reviews, promotion, and tenure (RPT) processes (Amey, 2002;
Bexley, James, & Arkoudis, 2011; Macfarlane, 2005, 2007; Powell & Colin, 2008;
Randall, 2010; Watermeyer, 2015). While institutions may promote their
commitment to the community, often such activities go unrewarded
(Schimanski & Alperin, 2018).
In 1975, Kerr penned “on the folly of rewarding A, while hoping for B,”
chronicling how “society hopes that teachers will not neglect their teaching
responsibilities but rewards them almost entirely for research and publications”
(p. 773). This situation remains a concern; while universities are eager to
market activities that academics engage in beyond the academy walls, these
activities lack “status and distinction in comparison to projects and
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publications” (Gunter, 2012, p. 68). Academics face a litany of challenges in a
constantly shifting landscape, from funding cuts to additional administrative
workload, and from pressure to attract grants to increased teaching loads. In
spite of all these pressures, there are academics who do spend their time
communicating with individuals and groups outside of their traditional
academic communities. There are lessons to learn from these academics with
respect to the benefits, costs, cautions, and how best to communicate with
non-academic audiences. With the introduction of formalised assessments of
engagement and impact in the United Kingdom (UK), Australia and other
countries around the world, those who have the skill and ability to work with
community may be particularly well positioned to thrive in academe in the
future.
1.1 Purpose
The purpose of this study is to identify how scholars who participate in
community engagement activities conceive of their responsibility to the public,
how they balance community engagement with the more traditional aspects of
academia (e.g., discipline-based publishing, dissemination through
conferences, teaching, administrative responsibilities), and how they have
come to understand their roles as academics. This research explores how
humanities and social sciences (HSS) academics in two countries (Canada and
Australia), at various career stages (early career research [ECR], mid-career
researchers [MCR], and senior academics), construct their identities and
manage community-based activities within their academic workloads. The
researcher has lived in, and worked at universities in, both Canada and
Australia. The study was designed to explore community engagement in both
contexts. Additionally, Canada and Australia were selected given that they are
similar in size (population and geography) and have similar systems of higher
education. The focus of this scholarship is looking at common issues
community-engaged academics face across separate systems. So while there are
differences between the countries — for example Australia has a national
assessment of research performance whereas Canada does not — it is the
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similar experiences of academics across these two systems that are highlighted.
Qualitative HSS scholars were selected as there is a scarcity of engagement
research with this demographic (see Section 2.3.4). As is explored in Chapter 2,
there is a long history of science popularisation and outreach, which is
evidenced by a number of journals, science communication degree programs,
and a variety of other factors. Similarly, health researchers have long been
embedded in practice, blurring the lines between the academic, clinical, and
professional realms. Participants in this study provided valuable insights that
are transferable to other academics and applicable across universities,
providing details on their societal and community-based impact experiences.
The research is potentially of great use to the academic community as it
becomes increasingly imperative for academics to engage in societal impact
activities; it is hoped that the research findings and recommendations will
influence future practices for academics, institutions, and government. The
project identifies the types of supports needed to engage effectively with the
community — be it from universities, governments, industry, community, or
other stakeholders.
1.2 Community Engagement
Over the past few decades, there have been many calls to increase
academics’ community outreach and engagement activities (Barnett, 2015;
Boyer, 1990, 1996; Gunter, 2012; Kerr, 1975). A majority of the research projects
concerning community engagement activities have centred on the United
States and the UK (as is discussed in detail in Chapter 2). While some
academics participate in community engagement activities, these are not the
primary focus of the majority of academics’ work (Barnett, 2005, 2015). The
traditional methods for disseminating research (for example, academic journal
papers and conference presentations) are where most academics spend a great
deal of time, as these activities have a direct impact on RPT decisions (Amey,
2002; Glass, Doberneck, & Schweitzer, 2011; Gunter, 2012; Macfarlane, 2007) and
are also necessary for grant application success. However, there are also many
scholars who make a concerted effort to engage in dynamic ways outside of
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their academic communities (Wenger, Hawkins, & Seifer, 2012). Despite often
not being formally rewarded for such work, community-engaged scholars
contribute in meaningful ways to community(s) in addition to fulfilling their
more traditional academic duties (Macfarlane, 2007). What can we learn from
people who are doing community engagement activities? How might these
academics’ experiences inform the activities of academics that are not currently
participating in community engagement activities? The impact agenda (see
below) is mounting in breadth and depth; increasingly, granting applications
and dedicated funding schemes require that impact be addressed in project
designs. With the possibility of formalised governmental impact assessments
being introduced in jurisdictions around the globe, it may become imperative
for all academics to engage in such activities.
Many people are already doing community-based work and getting their
research out into the public sphere, such as plant biologists who share research
results to convince farmers to sow new grain, philosophers talking about ethics
with healthcare practitioners, sociologists conducting action research with
inner-city organisations, medical researchers convincing doctors to prescribe a
new drug, or educational researchers discussing the value of all-day
kindergarten with teachers and parents. This project asked community-
engaged scholars to identify lessons learned, positive experiences, knowledge
gained, and potential cautions concerning embedding community engagement
activities in their academic lives. Identifying how academics manage their time
and commitment to community has implications for how institutions may be
better equipped to support community engagement activities. As government
accountability schemes — such as the UK’s Research Excellence Framework
(REF) and Australia’s Engagement and Impact Assessment (EI) — introduce
societal impact assessments, to university assessment practices, academics can
draw on the experience of peers who have successfully incorporated
community-based engagement activities into their academic work. To that end,
we must first learn about these academics’ experiences and how they integrate
community-engaged scholarship into their work practices.
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1.3 Societal Impact Assessments
In response to changes in society and increasing governmental demands
for public accountability of publicly funded research, the traditional academic
landscape continues to shift towards one that values the impact of research on
society (Apple, 2006; Becher & Trowler, 2001; Ginsberg, 2011; Reale et al., 2017;
Reisz, 2018; Williams & Grant, 2018). Formal societal impact assessments are
poised to shift traditional notions of universities’ functions and structures.
Morgan Jones, Castle-Clarke, Manville, Gunashekar, and Grant (2013) make the
distinction between academic and societal impact, the former being concerned
with traditional measures of academic impact such as citation counts and
publication, and the latter being the impact research has had in society.
‘Societal impact’ is used here as a way of differentiating between academic and
societal (or broader) impact, however the terminology is not synonymous. For
example, the impact research has on society is considered more broadly under
‘research impact’ by the Australian Research Council (ARC). By compelling
academics to document how their research has had an impact on communities
and organizations, societal impact assessments go beyond traditional scholarly
impact measures (bibliometrics). In the UK, a societal impact assessment was
introduced in 2014 and played a key role in the Research Excellence Framework
(REF), where institutions were required to “outline changes and benefits to the
UK economy, society, culture, public policy and services, health, the
environment and quality of life and impacts in these sectors beyond the UK”
(http://impact.ref.ac.uk/CaseStudies/About.aspx). The ARC piloted a research
impact framework in 2012 and introduced an Engagement and Impact (EI)
Assessment pilot in 2017. In 2018, the full Engagement and Impact Assessment
exercise was run alongside the national Excellent in Research Australia (ERA)
assessment. The EI 2018 Framework (https://www.arc.gov.au/engagement-and-
impact-assessment/ei-key-documents) defines research engagement as “the
interaction between researchers and research end-users outside of academia,
for the mutually beneficial transfer of knowledge, technologies, methods or
resources,” and research impact as “the contribution that research makes to the
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economy, society, environment or culture, beyond the contribution to
academic research.” Whereas Boyer (1990, 1996) suggested community
engagement activities should touch on all parts of an academics’
responsibilities (teaching, research, service), these definitions focus solely on
research activities. EI 2018 is being run by the Australia Research Council, so
research is the priority. However, such definitions raise questions around how
engagement will be conceived of and resourced at Australian universities in
teaching and other non-research areas in the future. Given this global approach
to the concept of impact, this project focuses primarily on research-related
activities as well.
In Canada, initiatives like the Social Sciences and Humanities Research
Council’s (SSHRC) The Storyteller series are shining a bright spotlight on
societal impact. These activities aim to discover/uncover how research
conducted by academics at publicly-funded Canadian universities has an
impact on society. Additionally, knowledge translation (KT) and knowledge
mobilisation (KM) strategies (which can be a pathway to impact) must be
accounted for in funding applications to Canada’s three federal funding
agencies. KT/KM relies on various models and theories for marshalling
academic research into practice (discussed further in Chapter 2). However,
these types of national strategies are not as robust in the Australian granting
context.
There are various layers of history and politics associated with a shift to
formally documenting societal impact (as will be discussed in Chapter 2), but
academics will be required to respond when their institutions (and
governments) require it of them. Illustrating where their research has made a
difference to business, to the general public, and/or to practice communities
outside of the academy can be tremendous challenge for academics. In order to
best respond to formal impact measures, institutions and academics need to be
prepared to mould their work to this emerging reality (as further discussed in
Chapters 2, 6, and 7). By understanding how academics can respond to
community need through their research, academics have the potential of
positioning themselves for increased exposure, funding, and institutional
8
support. As community engagement is a potential pathway to impact,
formalised impact assessment processes may also result in changes to how
institutions value and reward community engagement activities. This research
elucidates how academics conceive of their role and responsibility to the public
in this rapidly changing academic environment.
1.4 Significance of the Project
By identifying how academics manage their time and information
behaviours (i.e., their information needs, seeking, and use) to support their
community engagement activities, this project provides evidence to guide
institutions in better supporting and rewarding engagement activities. The
research provides insights into the lived experiences of various academics from
across a wide range of HSS academic disciplines that may provide guidance —
and possibly reassurance — to aspiring engaged scholars. In combining data
from Australia and Canada, a picture of the similarities and differences between
these academic cultures emerges, with regard to community-engaged
scholarship and emerging societal impact practices. As Canada does not have a
formal research assessment process to track research outputs in universities (as
is the case in Australia), this research exposes different international
perspectives within the engagement and/or impact context. As will be
discussed in Chapter 2, the research literature tends to take a discipline-focused
approach with little done to fashion a holistic overview of the role of public
engagement within the academy, across disciplines. This project explores data
across disciplines, providing insights into how academics perceive of their roles
and relationships to the public, which may have potential implications for how
governments, industry, and universities approach decision-making and policy
implementation.
1.5 Scholarly Contribution
This research is a contribution to the scholarship of engagement (Boyer
1990, 1996), situated within the study of higher education. The scholarship of
engagement was proposed by Boyer as a way of reconceptualising the structure
9
of academia. His goal was to better deliver on the promise embedded in the
fabric of so many university mottos, that they exist for the public good:
“ultimately, the scholarship of engagement means creating a special climate in
which the academic and civic cultures communicate more continuously and
more creatively with each” (Boyer, 1996, p. 33). Boyer’s scholarship of
engagement has been adopted as a sub-area of the study of higher education
internationally, and is situated both within and across disciplines:
Engaged scholarship is distinct from, but also relates to, positivism,
constructivism, empiricism, and other epistemological forms. Each form
can relate to engaged scholarship, just as engaged scholarship can
influence the others. (Checkoway, 2013, p. 8)
Using a grounded theory approach, this research makes a contribution not only
to the scholarship of engagement but to information behaviour as well. Within
the scholarship of engagement, there has been minimal research conducted
into HSS scholars’ experiences — particularly research that is qualitative in
nature. Similarly, information behaviour research has, as yet, failed to consider
the information needs, seeking, and use of community-engaged HSS scholars in
particular. This research is a beginning in addressing those deficits. The
scholarly contributions of this research to both the scholarship of engagement
and information behaviour are explored throughout relevant sections of the
literature review (Chapter 2), the discussions and findings (Chapters 4 through
6), and in the concluding chapter (particularly Sections 7.2 and 7.3).
1.6 Research Questions
This research is emergent and, as such, the topic has so far received little
academic study. The research seeks to address a number of questions within a
constructivist grounded theoretical framework (Charmaz, 2014). A focus of this
project is an exploration of academics’ information behaviours in supporting
community engagement. The research chronicles and problematises how
community-engaged academics acquire, manage, and apply community
engagement information in their contexts. Issues related to academic identity,
10
and how community-engaged academics’ identity is shaped and informed by
their contributions to community, are addressed in questions 1, 1a, and 1b. The
following questions and related sub-questions were investigated throughout
the research process:
Table 1.1: Research Questions
1. How do academics who participate in community engagement activities conceive of their responsibility to the public? a. How do academics balance community engagement activities with their
teaching, research, and service requirements? b. How have they come to understand their role as academics with regard
to the broader community? 2. What supports are required in order to do community engagement
work? a. What are the information activities related to community engagement
work? b. What role does the institution play in supporting or hindering
community engagement work? 3. How might academics who engage in community engagement activities
inform academics who are not engaging in such activities? a. What implications might there be for measuring societal impact,
including through formalised assessment frameworks? 4. What are the information behaviours (e.g., information needs,
seeking, use) of academics who participate in community engagement activities?
The goal of the research was to investigate how, and (more importantly) why,
academics engage with community(s). The scope of this research is limited to
academics in the humanities and social sciences (HSS) who are already
engaging with the public. There is a dearth of qualitative research concerning
community engagement activities of academics in these spaces (see Chapter 2).
Much of the community-engagement literature focuses on best practices for
community engagement activities but fails to consider the lived experience of
the academic approaching the research. Also, there is minimal scholarship
regarding how academics can best approach community engagement work and
maintain balance with their academic responsibilities — i.e., their research,
teaching, and service loads. By chronicling and problematising how academics
in HSS disciplines position themselves and their research with respect to
11
community, and their desire to have their research extend beyond the walls of
academia into a more general public space, valuable lessons can be learned
about how to achieve this balance within academic roles and what scholars gain,
both intrinsically and extrinsically, from doing community engagement work.
1.7 Organisation of the Thesis
The thesis begins with an exploration of the literature (Chapter 2) of, and
tangential to, the scholarship of engagement. A wide net is required in order to
conceptualise the engagement and impact space to situate the research in a
broad context. Chapter 3 presents the methods adopted in the study as well as
the epistemological position and rationale for the researcher’s choices.
Chapters 4 through 6 explore research questions 1-3 (see Table 1.1) respectively;
the fourth research question is explored throughout. Discussion and findings
are presented concomitantly, as is consistent with established qualitative
approaches (discussed further in Chapter 3). The final chapter (Chapter 7)
summarises the project findings, discusses the contributions to both
information science and the scholarship of engagement, and explores potential
future research and the practical implications of the research for both
individual academics and institutions.
1.8 Summary
This work contributes to the scholarship of engagement, set within an
information science context and utilising qualitative. The scope of the research
is broad, covering multiple geographical locations with participants in a variety
of fields, and drawing on literature from various disciplines. Academia is a
complex place and this thesis intends to make some sense of the state of
community engagement and societal impact for HSS scholars in Canada and
Australia by elucidating their individual experiences in their own words.
Whereas journal articles are bound by strict word counts, a thesis has the
flexibility of space; therefore, the voices of participants are illuminated through
direct quotations where possible.
12
Chapter 2: Literature Review
As outlined in Chapter 1, this research contributes to information behaviour
research and the scholarship of engagement (Boyer, 1990, 1996), which is
situated more broadly in the study of higher education. In order to capture the
multi-disciplinary nature of engagement scholarship research, in addition to
information science several disciplines are drawn on, including sociology,
education, communications, health/medicine, and science. Given the emergent
nature of formalised assessments of societal impacts and the dearth of formal
scholarly publishing on the topic, government and funding body reports.
commentary from professional publishing venues (such as The Conversation,
and Times Higher Education) are also considered. Table 2.1 illustrates how the
literature review is structured, with explanatory text to guide the reader
through the chapter by foregrounding the subject matter coupled with
rationale for the literature’s inclusion. Section 2.1 presents literature concerning
the subject of this research — academics who forge pathways to conduct
community engagement activities — including an overview of academic
identity as it relates to community engagement. How engaged academics
balance their traditional scholarly responsibilities with community engagement
is discussed, with a focus on activities external to the university. Section 2.2
looks at activities traditionally associated with academic responsibilities within
the academy. Here, scholarly communication literature is reviewed to give the
reader a better sense of the types of activities that have traditionally been
contained within the domain of scholarly communications (including
bibliometrics). Sections 2.3 and 2.4 consider community engagement broadly
(including situating the scholarship of engagement in the broader context) and
the ways that institutions position engagement through policy (including RPT
processes). As engagement is a potential pathway to societal impact, the
literature review culminates in Section 2.5 with an exploration of societal
impact and its place in the academy.
Table 2.1: Literature Review Sections
13
2.1 Engagement and the Role of the Academic
The role of the academic is discussed from various perspectives including academic workload (i.e., balancing research, teaching, and service components), academic identity, and academics’ information behaviours. Sections include:
x Academic identity x Academic identity in community engagement x Academics’ information behaviours
2.2 Scholarly Communication
Overview of the history of scholarly communications highlighting the internal focus (within academia) that scholarly communications has traditionally occupied. Sections include:
x History of scholarly communications x Scholarly communications in the 21st Century x Bibliometrics x Altmetrics x Scholarly communications today
2.3 Community Engagement Across the Disciplines
Examination of the community engagement space, historical approaches to community engagement, and current research into community engagement. Research pertaining to community engagement activities in science, medicine/health, and humanities and social sciences are reviewed. Various community engagement methods are reviewed within the context of engaged scholarship and the scholarship of engagement. Sections include:
x The Scholarship of Engagement: Towards a Taxonomy of Engagement
x Geographical Differences in Community Engagement
x Engagement Methods x Community engagement in HSS x Community engagement in Health x Community engagement in Science x Engagement through technology
2.4 University Positioning of Engagement
University responses to community engagement, particularly with regards to review, promotion, and tenure (RPT) processes, are discussed. Sections include:
x Preparation/training for community engagement x Various supports for community engagement x Review, Promotions and Tenure (RPT) structures
2.5 Societal Impact Introduction of the concept of societal impact and the various developments — including initiatives and assessments — are presented.
14
2.1 Community Engagement for Academics
The context of how academics’ time and workload is divided is crucial to
this research and relates to research question 1a, “How do academics balance
community engagement activities with their teaching, research, and service
requirements?” As introduced at the start of this thesis, academics are typically
expected to divide work between research, teaching, and service (or
administration) responsibilities; the percentage of time allocated to each may
also vary between institutions (e.g., a 40-40-20 split between research, teaching
and service versus a 60-30-10 split, or some other configuration). These
breakdowns may also be largely aspirational rather than a true indication of
allocation of effort, particularly as some activities occur at specific points in the
academic year.
How ‘service’ is defined for an academic can vary vastly across regions,
institutions, departments, disciplines, and individuals. Service work may include
internal administrative functions within departments or the broader institution
or external contributions to the discipline, such as sitting on an editorial board
or working on a conference steering committee. In Australia, service is often
separated into administration activities within the university and broader
community service, which may or may not include service to one’s academic,
professional, and/or broader communities. In 2007, the average workload
allocation across Australian universities was 36% teaching, 28.8% research,
18.7% administration, and 8.6% community service, with 7.8% allocation to
other duties (Coates et al., 2009). In Canada “service” is used in tenure and
promotion documentation inconsistently across institutions with few making a
distinction between internal (to the University) and external (in the
community) service (Barreno, Elliott, Madueke, & Sarny, 2013). Service work
may extend to community engagement activities but it is often ill-defined
(Randall, 2010).
In the scholarship of engagement framework, community engagement
activities are seen as taking place across the spectrum of academic life, in
teaching (e.g., service learning, community education and interaction), research
(e.g., participatory and action research), and service (Boyer, 1990, 1996a).
15
Because of the somewhat rigid nature of academic workloads, there is an
inflexibility for activities that sit outside these pillars. Where community
engagement ‘sits’ is a central theme explored in this research.
2.1.1 Increasing Pressures on Academics
In order to conduct community engagement activities, such as multi-year
projects between academics and community or work requiring ongoing
relationships, a certain level of job certainty is required. However, around the
world there has “been a shift away from collegial relationships towards job
differentiation and organisational hierarchies; from intellectual autonomy
towards organisational control of projects and programme curriculum; from
tenured posts to a flexible workforce and from peer review to data production
and measurement” (Gunter, 2012, p. 67). As institutions rely to a greater degree
on casual or adjunct faculty, there are “fewer full-time and/or tenured faculty to
commit the time and energy outside formal teaching timetables to service
activities” (Barnett, 2015, p. 172). It is perhaps not surprising that academics
report feeling underfunded (Austin, 2002a, p. 121) and overworked (Murray,
2008, p. 125).
Neoliberalisation has come at a cost: academics feel over-managed and
are concerned about the quality of the teaching and research in light of high
workloads, the heavy burden of bureaucratic tasks, and administrative duties
(Bexley et al., 2011). With most teaching staff averaging 49 hours of work each
week, workload for academic staff is such that 36% reported that it negatively
interfered with life outside of work (Bryson, 2004). Early Career Researcher
(ECR) academics and those without continuing contracts worked more hours
than those with permanent positions (Bryson, 2004). The workload may be
increasing, as Flaherty (2014) reports that academics are working, on average 61
hours a week. In order to secure tenure, academics must be wise with their time,
and research productivity is closely associated with academic success.
Many new faculty members find balancing a research agenda on top of
their other requirements, such as teaching and service expectations, to be
challenging (Murray, 2008, p. 116-117). It is little wonder that thesis supervisors
16
often protect their students from service responsibilities, instead privileging
research activities above other activities in a hyper-competitive environment
(Austin, 2002b).
With such tremendous pressures to perform and produce academics
outputs in an increasingly precarious job market, the motivation, time and
resourcing required to conduct community engagement activities becomes all
the more challenging a proposition for academics, particularly ECRs.
2.1.2 Academic Identity in Community Engagement
There is considerable scholarship concerning academic identity that is
generally situated in the study of higher education (for example, Acker &
Armenti, 2004; Beck & Young, 2005; Billot, 2010; Burrows, 2012; Clegg, 2008;
Davies, 2005; Gill, 2010; Harris, 2005; Henkel, 2000, 2005; Lee & Boud, 2003;
Sparkes, 2007; Winter, 2009). One of the major themes addressed in the
scholarship is how academic identity has shifted in response to neoliberal
forces within higher education (Clegg, 2008; Davies, 2005; R. C. Gill, 2010; S.
Harris, 2005; Henkel, 2000, 2005; Sparkes, 2007). Yet, commentary on
increasing regulation, deepening marketisation, internationalisation,
casualisation, teaching allotments, and the relentless bureaucratisation of
higher education tend to be primarily concerned with matters internal to the
academy (and broader disciplinary concerns). When “community” is used in
academic identity literature it tends to be in relation to a community of
academics (Billot, 2010), not communities external to academia, or how those
communities impact their internalised identity. As this project adopts an
exploratory, grounded theory informed approach, the focus on identity is
narrow. Specifically, the research addresses identity only as it as related to
community engagement. This section explores the minimal published literature
on academic identity.
One of the few studies to tackle the perceptions of academics
participating in community engagement activities (n=40) reported that
academic identity (in the UK) had been, or was being, shaped by public
engagement and that it was, on the whole, disadvantageous to career
17
progression (Watermeyer, 20015, p. 341). Respondents reported feeling “eclipsed
by the research successes of their academic contemporaries” (Watermeyer,
2015, p. 340) as a result of their commitment to maintaining a community
engagement portfolio. Participants who reported being able to nimbly move
between research, teaching, and public engagement were a rarity; participants
generally reported becoming pigeonholed as public (term applied in place of
community) engagement academics, which came at the expense of their
research profiles and academic reputations (Watermeyer, 2015, p. 338). The
results echo others (e.g., Barreno et al., 2013; Bentley & Kyvik, 2011; Glass et al.,
2011; Randall, 2010; Wilkinson & Weitkamp, 2013) in suggesting community
engagement to be antithetical to the performance culture and rewards
structures found in many universities.
Though the results of Janke and Colbeck's (2008) study investigating how
community engagement activities influence academic work are not transferable
due to a small sample size (n=3), they are useful in informing the scope of this
study. In particular, participants did not distinguish their community
engagement activities as being siloed to one area of academic work; rather,
community engagement was seen as being a part of scholarship integrated into
all research, teaching, and service components.
Under neoliberal institutional ideology, there has been an “intensification
of the management of academic identity and the demands of performativity”
and the “possibility of a critical humanistic education for individual and social
transformation has been transmogrified by bureaucratisation, marketisation
and commodification” (Sutton, 2015, p. 45). Yet, the possibility of engaging in
pedagogy of hope may be found through community engagement. Community
engagement activities can be seen as a gap that academics can capitalise on in
order to assert ownership of an alternate pedagogy, one where their teaching and
learning activities are not proscribed, micromanaged, assessed, and validated.
However, the REF and EI exercises (see Section 2.5) — unforeseen by Sutton —
may further entrench neoliberal ideology and extend it into community
engagement activities through measurement and marketisation measures.
This research looks to identify how academics understand themselves as
18
community-engaged scholars and how they balance their various academic
responsibilities. To better understand how academics situate themselves and
their research in community, we can look to the information that they draw on
to conduct community engagement work. The activities that academics perform
have an impact on their sense of self and shapes their academic identity. While
the scholarship on academic identity is broad, there is a notable deficit of
research considering academic identity as it relates to community engagement.
More work is recommended linking community engagement activities to
broader notions of academic identity. This research contributes to a better
understanding of the academic identities of community-engaged HSS scholars.
2.1.3 Academics’ Information Behaviours
This research provides evidence to further understand academics’
information behaviours and practices, particularly in relation to community
engagement activities (discussed throughout the findings and discussions
chapters 4 through 6, and in the concluding Chapter 7). In the community
engagement space, academics may encounter academically-traditional
information sources in addition to those that are unexpected, serendipitous, and
arising out of community interaction and partnerships. These notions are
explored below. Overall, there is a lack of research concerning the information
behaviours of academics who conduct community engagement activities. This
research investigates this space and begins to address this deficiency. This
section situates this research within the information behaviour literature. In
reviewing this literature, gaps are identified in how information needs of
academics that engage in community work are being met.
Information behaviour, which goes back decades as a scholarly discipline,
uses a person-orientated approach to identifying individuals’ information needs,
information-seeking activities, and information use (Case & Given, 2016).
Information sources are not limited to tangible items such as books or other
publications but include a wide-ranging variety of information sources, both
documented (such as broadcast media and social media) and informal,
undocumented sources like colleagues and friends. (Case & Given, 2016, p. 14).
19
There is a wealth of information behaviour literature concerning a variety
of diverse communities (Fisher & Julien, 2009) such as non-profit community
agencies (Durrance, Souden, Walker, & Fisher, 2006), government workers
(Maurel & Bergeron, 2007), and the trans* community (Jardine, 2013). While
such scholarship may inform how academics can better meet the needs of
communities, there remains a missing link in the information behaviour
literature concerning the actual information needs, seeking, and use of
community-engaged academics themselves.
Just as community needs have been studies, the information behaviours
of academics have also received considerable study (notably, Alhoori, Samaka,
Furuta, & Fox, 2018; Bronstein, 2007; Ellis, 1993; Meho & Tibbo, 2003; Pontis,
Blandford, Greifeneder, Attalla, & Neal, 2017) with much of the research
concerning with how academics engage in and conduct research. Other studies
cover activities internal to the academy such as lecture preparation, maintaining
social and intellectual capital in their field, and activities such as data collection,
writing and publishing (Rupp-Serrano & Robbins, 2013, p. 135). Information
sources vary widely including the internet (Sukovic, 2008, p. 278), publications,
conferences, citation chaining (Rupp-Serrano & Robbins, 2013), and collegial
communications (Bronstein, 2007).
Many researchers have adopted Ellis’ (1993) model when doing research
concerned with information needs of academics (e.g. Bronstein, 2007; Du &
Evans, 2011; Ge, 2010; Meho & Tibbo, 2003; Shen, 2013). The model details six
(non-linear) stages that academics go through when finding information:
starting (beginning a search), chaining (making connections between
information sources including citations), browsing (scanning and reviewing
potentially useful sources), differentiating (filtering sources based on perceived
quality and usefulness), monitoring (keeping abreast of developments),
extracting (pulling relevant information), verifying (ensuring information is
complete and accurate), and ending (conducting a review of information
sources) (Case & Given, 2016, p. 151). Ellis’ model has been adapted and modified
by various information scientists (Ge, 2010; Meho & Tibbo, 2003) as the stages
20
proposed provide an accessible conduit for understanding a variety of
information seeking activities engaged in by academics.
Particularly germane to this research is Wilson’s second model, which
considers various types of search behaviours including passive, active, and
ongoing searching (Case & Given, 2016, p. 151). In contrast with Ellis’ model,
Wilson’s model considers various “activating mechanisms,” or the motivations
that compel individuals to search for information, which include psychological,
demographic, role-related, environmental, and the characteristics of the source
of the information. By coming to understand participants’ motivations, a more
holistic understanding of their information needs, seeking, and use is achieved.
Ellis’ (1993) model fails to capture information that is found
unintentionally or serendipitously. Wilson (1999) did account for what he
termed “passive” information seeking, or the ways that individuals overhear or
otherwise find information when they aren’t actively “seeking” it. Wilson’s
notions of “passive attention” and “passive search”, however, were elaborated
on minimally by Foster and Ford (2003), who suggest that information may be
located through serendipity, wherein “hidden analogies are revealed through
serendipitous links between information sources” (p. 322). Foster and Ford’s
study of the information-seeking behaviours of interdisciplinary scholars (n=45)
found that participants reported coming into contact with information by
chance encounter, which in turn often led to unexpected outcomes. They
reported that a) serendipity is experienced across researchers regardless of
discipline; b) unexpectedly identified information may affect the research
process; c) attitudes and responses to serendipitous information vary but when
addressed strategically, information could be exploited to the benefit of the
researcher; and d) that there was a perception that an element of control could
be employed to maximise chance encounters (Foster & Ford, 2003, p. 337). With
community engagement activities being atypical to many academic’s portfolios,
information concerning community engagement can be arrived at
serendipitously.
Consensus on a definition of serendipity can be elusive, as McCay-Peet
and Toms (2015) note:
21
Serendipity is not an easy word to define. Its meaning has been
stretched to apply to experiences ranging from the mundane to the
exceptional. Serendipity, however, is consistently associated with
unexpected and positive personal, scholarly, scientific, organizational,
and societal events and discoveries. (p. 1463)
As Foster and Ford assert, serendipity is a paradoxical concept:
While being perceived as valuable, it is at the same time elusive,
unpredictable and – at least at first sight – not subject to either the
understanding or the resultant control that would enable it to be ‘used’
as a conscious information-seeking strategy”. (2003, p. 312)
Ultimately McCay-Peet and Toms (2015) proposed the following definition, “an
unexpected experience prompted by an individual’s valuable interaction with
ideas, information, objects, or phenomena.” Agarwal (2015) proposed a more
detailed definition explicitly acknowledging that the positive effects of
serendipity many take time to materialise; he suggests serendipity is:
An incident-based, unexpected discovery of information leading to an
aha! moment when a naturally alert actor is in a passive, non-purposive
state or in an active, purposive state, followed by a period of incubation
leading to insight and value. (para. 55)
Definitional issues notwithstanding, it is clear that serendipity plays an
important role in finding new information; indeed, it is, “an important aspect of
how researchers encounter information and generate new ideas” (Foster &
Ford, 2003, p. 337). For community-engaged scholars, serendipity is a potential
means to acquiring information about communities where there is a need or
capacity for research.
In terms of information behaviour, the Theory of Scholarly Practice is
intended to “encapsulate all the components of the research done by scholars”
by detailing the ways in which academics “find and organize resources, how
22
they identify and work with collaborators, how they interact with technology
during the course of their research, and how they disseminate the results of a
research project” (Falciani-White, 2013, p.1). Falciani-White (2013) identifies a
number of ways that academics come to access and understand information
through various inputs and outputs including social, environmental,
information seeking, organizational and dissemination. While the qualitative
study is limited in sample size (n=9), the lack of discussion around public or
community-based integration and dissemination is notable. The results reflect
the respondents’ reality, and community engagement is not noted as a part of
their role as academics. Put another way, for participants in the study,
community engagement is not a relevant, or even existent, portion of their
scholarly practice. Willson's (2016) study of individuals transitioning into
academic roles from doctoral studies explores academic identity formation and
how ECRs are expected to perform in the academy. She found that collegial
information sharing was critical to how new academics learn ‘how to be’ in the
academy, but her participants did not reflect explicitly on expectations around
community engagement. Similarly, other scholars who have explored academic
identify (see, for example, Archer, 2008; McAlpine, Jazvac-Martek & Hopwood,
2009; Sweitzer, 2009) focus on identity as it relates to existing within the
academy rather than within the community.
From an information behaviour perspective, societal impact and
academics’ preparedness for impact assessments was studied by Given et al.
(2015, 2014). Aside from Given’s scholarship, there has been little scholarly
research concerning academics’ information needs, seeking, and use with regard
to societal impact and none looking at community engagement.
As a result of the dearth of information behaviour scholarship pertaining
to academics’ community engagement activities, this research project has been
informed by related information science research conducted with academics.
This research offers a contribution to how community-engaged scholars
construct and understand their academic identities and contributes to the
scholarship which has not previously addressed the information behaviours of
community-engaged academics.
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2.2 Scholarly Communication
This section is foregrounded by The Association of Research Libraries
definition of scholarly communication, which reads:
The system through which research and other scholarly writings are
created, evaluated for quality, disseminated to the scholarly community,
and preserved for future use. The system includes both formal means of
communication, such as publication in peer-reviewed journals, and
informal channels, such as electronic listservs.
(http://www.arl.org/focus-areas/scholarly-communication)
This definition focuses exclusively on “disseminating to the scholarly
community” and excludes those outside of the academy in the general public or
in community settings. As such, scholarly communications research, as it is
situated within information science, looks at how academics communicate
their expertise and disseminate their research (Regazzi, 2015) within the
academic community. It is ever-evolving to keep pace with technology and
society to meet the changing needs of academics. This research problematises
the scope of scholarly communication which, for the most part, excludes non-
academic dissemination. To understand the current academic context, this
review will look at the history and evolution of how scholars have
communicated with one another and how their research is has been
disseminated.
2.2.1 History of Scholarly Communication
Prior to the seventeenth century, the primary methods of scholarly
exchange were word-of-mouth and personal correspondence (Kronick, 1976).
As a result, new research findings were highly siloed and generally accessible
only within a small group of academics. In order to catalogue and share
scientific discoveries methodically, scholarly journals and periodicals began to
emerge in the mid-seventeenth century (Manten, 1980). As scientific
communities began to formalise, editorial boards were put in place to ensure
publication standards were high (Kronick, 1976). Academic learned societies
and academies were founded throughout the eighteenth century in Finland,
24
Denmark, Italy, Russia, Sweden, Switzerland, and the United States and began
to standardize academic outputs through their centrally administered
periodicals (Wust, 2007). As McClellan (1979) notes, “the mode of the new
periodical speeded communications, offered alternatives to the printed book
and personal correspondence, and created the scientific paper” but these
periodicals consisted of general interest science, as “the modern, highly
specialized periodical had not yet appeared” (p. 425-426). The end of the
eighteenth and beginning of the nineteenth centuries saw a decline in more
generalist learned society proceedings and the “creation of specialized
periodicals as knowledge increasingly fragmented into specialized (and later
professional) disciplines and sub-disciplines” (McClellan, 1979). With the
popular Rozier’s Journal leading the way, new journals started to be introduced
with greater regularity. In this period, scholarly communication became
increasingly internalised as journals were more specific in their disciplinary
focus and “excluded from the readership of the scientific literature the self-
instructed enthusiast for whom science was a part-time occupation or hobby, in
favour of individuals institutionally trained at an advanced level and earning
their living by means of science alone” (Gross, Harmon, & Reidy, 2001, p. 118).
In the early nineteenth century, scholarly congresses increased in
popularity as a form of sharing academic research and discoveries; scholarly
meetings in the form of conferences are the modern equivalent. The output
from such meetings generated another type of scholarly document, the
congress proceedings, also targeted at a scholarly rather than general audience
(Wust, 2007). There is an elitism embedded within early scholarly
communication methods. A move to increasingly discrete disciplines resulted
in research and discovery becoming more esoteric and inaccessible to all but
those highly trained in those fields.
2.2.2 Scholarly Communications in the 20th Century
While there have been considerable changes in scholarly
communications since the beginning of the twentieth century, much in the
field remains the same. Academic journals and academic conferences are still
25
the primary methods for disseminating research. There have been, however,
notable shifts in how publications are funded (subscribing versus submission
fees), and accessed (physical versus digital). Borgman and Furner (2002) posit
that “scholarly communication is being transformed through the use of
personal and portable computers, electronic mail, word processing software,
electronic publishing, digital libraries, the Internet, the World Wide Web,
mobile phones, wireless networks, and other information technologies” (p. 4).
The open access movement and its associated journals, data, institutional
repositories, and books have shifted how information is disseminated. Web-
based social technologies such as Twitter and academic blogs have created new
avenues for scholars to communicate broadly. Moving forward to the present
day, this narrowing scope of communications led to the emergence and
evolution of bibliometrics, reviewed below.
2.2.3 Bibliometrics
Due to the required cost cutting as a result of the depression of the
1930s, it became prudent to maximize use and reduce redundancy of resources.
Libraries needed to identify how best to utilise their resources when acquiring
scholarly journals. One way of accomplishing this was by applying Bradford’s
Law (1934), a formula that helped identify which were core publications in
various fields and which were more expendable (Drott, 1981; Wust, 2007).
Bradford’s Law was critical to the development of bibliometrics, a field of study
core within information science and central to scholarly communication (Drott,
1981). Pritchard (1969) proposed that the term Statistical Bibliography be
replaced with Bibliometrics, or “the application of mathematics and statistical
methods to books and other media of communication” (p. 349). The term has
broadened in the subsequent years to become “powerful set of methods and
measures for studying the structure and process of scholarly communication”
(Borgman and Furner, 2002, p. 4). Bibliometrics sub and related fields include
informetrics, scientometrics, librametrics, cybermetrics, and webometrics.
Bibliometrics, and the various metrics and systems within it, allows for broad
26
evaluation of journals, documents, people, groups, organizations, and nations
(Borgman & Furner, 2002).
World War II generated a tremendous amount of information and the
deluge of both Allied and Axis documents to be retained “triggered the need for
new ways of organizing, sorting, and accessing this enormous body of
information. The solution at that time was believed to be microform” (Tenopir
& King, 2000, p. 21). In 1945, Vannevar Bush, the head of the US Wartime Office
of Scientific Research and Development and former president of the
Massachusetts Institute of Technology (Correia & Teixeira, 2005), published a
landmark piece entitled As We May Think, in which he envisioned a machine
termed the memex, “a device in which an individual stores all his books,
records, and communications, and which is mechanized so that it may be
consulted with exceeding speed and flexibility. It is an enlarged intimate
supplement to his memory” (Bush, 1945, p. 106). Bush suggested that the
motivation for developing such a device was because “our methods of
transmitting and reviewing the results of research are generations old and by
now are totally inadequate for their purpose” (p. 101). While Bush envisaged a
microfilm-based system, in the personal computer — and more so the internet
— a metaphysical realization of Bush’s memex was realized. The technology
envisioned by Bush was still decades away, but work progressed in the field of
bibliometrics, with Eugene Garfield leading the charge.
Building on Bradford’s Law, Garfield founded the Institute of Scientific
Information (ISI) in 1961, which continued to advance the field of bibliometrics.
The ISI generated the Science Citation Index (SCI), the Arts & Humanities
Citation Index, and various other discipline-specific metrics (Garfield et al.,
2000; Wust, 2007). The adoption of such indexes had two outcomes. One is
that the bibliometrics provided the analytic tools to determine the academic
impact of a journal or an article, often referred to as an impact factor. The
second is that they allow authors to better understand how widely their
research is being referenced and adopted by other scholars in the field. As
technology advanced and the internet became increasingly ubiquitous,
bibliometrics entered a new era. Cybermetrics allowed documents to be
27
dynamically linked, achieving two things, “first, the design of automatic
citation indexing systems aimed at capturing, storing, and making readily
searchable the bibliographic network woven with citations from papers stored
in e-journals and open archives of scholarly materials; and second, the
application of statistical analysis to the hyperlink structure of the Web itself”
(De Bellis, 2009, p. 285). The structure of the internet has permitted for
simplified tracking of scholarly material adoption.
Bibliometrics, and its various sub- and related fields, have been adopted
in all areas of academia. They are utilized in an academic’s annual report,
provided when seeking employment, collated by institutions to be used in
promotion, and applied in a variety of other ways. With the desire to capture an
academic’s reach beyond simple citation counts, altmetrics (alternative
metrics) have emerged as a supplement, or new sub-field, of bibliometrics. As a
result of advances in bibliometrics, researchers are able to have clearer
understandings of the impact their work is having within traditional academic
outlets.
2.2.4 Altmetrics
Altmetrics, or alternative metrics, are named such to in order to
distinguish them from bibliometrics, “the traditional, decades old system of
counting citations and academic journal publications and also from
webometrics, the measurement of webpage rank or influence by analysing links
between pages on the web” (Gunn, 2013, p. 33). Altmetrics have emerged as a
response to the increasingly social nature that Web 2.0 technologies ushered in.
“Altmetrics . . . is a term to describe web-based metrics for the impact of
scholarly material, with an emphasis on social media outlets as sources of data”
(Shema, Bar-Ilan, & Thelwall, 2014, p. 1019). Sources may include microblogging
platforms (e.g., Twitter), reference managers (e.g., Zotero or Mendeley),
academic blogs, academic bookmarking, and other sources as new web-based
social platforms are adopted. In addition to providing an enhanced measure of
academics’ scholarly reach, altmetrics have been positioned as potentially being
utilised to measure the social impact and public engagement of research
28
(Bornmann, 2014; Piwowar, 2013). Altmetrics intend to leverage the networked
nature of our modern world to better capture the interactions with and uptake
of research materials. As Taylor (2013) suggests, “in retrospect, the period
during which we relied upon formal citation of article-by-article as a
measurement of usage, quality, and impact will appear to have been primitive.”
(p. 27). In stark contrast with bibliometrics, altmetrics are still very much in
their infancy.
2.2.5 Scholarly Communication Going Forward
With the focus of scholarly communication research, commentary and
academic writing historically (and for the most part, currently) concerned with
scholars communicating within and across disciplines to other scholars,
academics’ communication with other academics (Bergman, 2006; Drake, 2007),
is no surprise then that community engagement can be a challenging
proposition. Many academics report being unprepared and untrained to
adequately engage in communities outside their academic ones (Austin, 2002a;
Bentley & Kyvik, 2011). While the internet has dramatically impacted scholarly
communications, there is a still an “inherent conservatism fostered through the
current system of recruitment and promotion of scholars, which prioritises
traditional outputs” (Pearce, Weller, Scanlon, & Kinsley, 2012).
Harley et al’s book Assessing the Future Landscape of Scholarly
Communication: An Exploration of Faculty Values and Needs in Seven Disciplines
(2010) provides an in-depth look at the current scholarly communication
landscape in the United States and challenges notions of what the scope of
scholarly communication might include in the future. It is one of the few pieces
of scholarly communication research that explicitly addresses public
engagement in the research design. Each of the seven disciplines chronicled in
the report were asked “to what degrees do you or your colleagues engage with the
public?”. There were considerable differences with regard to their conceptions of
community engagement, with the amount that academics engaged in
community and outreach activities dependent on a number of factors including
age, personality, and discipline (Harley et al., 2010). Participants indicated that
29
too much public engagement work might result in them being stigmatised as
public intellectuals; they cautioned that ECRs should avoid public engagement
with the general consensus being that “public engagement is something that is
only viewed as appropriate on any appreciable scale once a scholar has been
promoted and has made a name in the field” (Harley, 2010, p. 18). Theoretical
fields (for example, music theory) reported a decreased connection to
community in contrast with disciplines such as history and archaeology. Some
participants managed their own community engagement activities while others
relied on “mediators like press office liaisons, bloggers, and journalists [who
would] play an important role in some fields to connect scholarly work to the
broader public debate” (2010, p. 19). There are a variety of reasons why academics
choose to not to publish in popular or public venues that include lack of interest,
time, rewards, incentives, and experience (Bentley and Kyvik, 2011).
There is a disconnect between the state of scholarly communications and
the expectations of funding agencies:
Although funding agencies are now encouraging the embedding of
impacts, including public engagement, within research, few researchers
are making this connection to opportunities for engaging in a wider
range of dissemination activities for a wider range of audiences.
(Wilkinson and Weitkamp, 2013, p. 8)
If academics are not being trained in the language and practices of community
engagement, yet are expected to do it and report on it for funders, there is
indeed a systemic disconnect. In order to respond to this shortcoming, in
addition to forthcoming societal impact assessments (addressed in Section 2.5),
scholarly communications will have to evolve to consider dissemination
engagement activities outside the academy to a greater degree (Given, Kelly, &
Willson, 2015).
To respond to changes in universities, with increased pressures to
communicate externally (including community engagement activities and
societal impact assessments), the roles of those who have traditionally
30
supported scholarly communications, particularly academic librarians, may have
to expand (Given et al., 2015). In the UK, Marcella et. al. (2018) found that ECRs
felt unsupported for societal impact in the context Research Excellence
Framework (REF). With regards to societal impact, respondents reported
“minimal mentoring, lack institutional support and are not proactively seeking
personal advice from others” (Marcella et. al., 2018, p. 617). Nicholson and
Howard (2018) suggest that library and information science (LIS) professionals
would be well positioned to support impact. They assert that “if universities and
researchers want to create, record, and demonstrate the real, and critical, impact
of their research, it would be beneficial to build upon the skillsets of current and
new LIS professionals” (Nicholson & Howard, 2018, p. 144) (societal impact
literature is further explored in Section 2.5). While public libraries have long
been a dynamic site of community engagement (Goulding, 2009), there is
inconsistency in how academic libraries enact and support community
engagement and outreach (Hang Tat Leong, 2013). However, Hang Tat Leong
suggests that engaged academic libraries extend the types of supports they can
offer scholars and “can effectively connect resources and enable interactions
between scholars and the public,” (p. 220) including community access;
information literacy; cooperation, exchange and partnership; and exhibitions
and scholarly events.
While there has only been a small number of studies addressing how
scholarly communications might expand to communications external to
academia, discussion and research is happening. With a reduced reliance on
libraries being reported by ECRs (Nicholas et al., 2018), it may be increasingly
prudent for LIS researchers to focus on this space and for academic librarians to
consider how they are resourced to support community engagement and societal
impact.
In the context of this study, the forms of scholarly communications that
engaged HSS scholars conduct, and the supports they require, is a central
theme.
2.3 Community Engagement Across the Disciplines
31
The scholarship of engagement exists across and within disciplines.
While this research is concerned with HSS disciplines, to achieve a broad
understanding of the many forms and shapes of engagement literature from
across disciplines is explored. Across disciplines, academics are engaging with
various communities in a range of ways. Many disciplines and fields have
carved out their own engagement research agendas and understandings about
how engagement with communities is enacted; some of the terms applied to
this space are ‘popularisation,’ ‘outreach,’ and ‘extension’. In science fields,
there is a lengthy history of science ‘popularisation’ and an emerging focus on
‘citizen science’ (e.g., Powell & Colin, 2008; Russo, 2010; Stilgoe, Lock, &
Wilsdon, 2014). In health-related disciplines, considerable research has been
conducted on how knowledge is translated to, and synthesised by, user groups
(medical professionals, patients, caretakers, etc.), and the labels ‘knowledge
translation (KT),’ ‘knowledge synthesis (KS)’, and ‘knowledge mobilisation (KM)’
are often used for activities relating to engagement (e.g., Estabrooks, Thompson,
Lovely, & Hofmeyer, 2006). In agriculture-related fields, ‘extension’ is the term
most often applied to how research is disseminated to users and groups outside
of the academy (e.g., Franz, 2014).
In HSS disciplines, communities are engaged with on a variety of fronts,
including through community-based participatory action research,
dissemination via public talks, and community-university partnerships (e.g.
Barker, 2004; Harley, Acord, Earl-Novell, Lawrence, & King, 2010; Whitmer et al.,
2010). However, the broad range of disciplines that sit under the HSS label
means that no single term or phrase represents engagement as is common in
smaller, more focused areas of research. While there are differences between
terms, and nuances that are worth appreciating, the engagement landscape is
therefore complicated by terminological differences that prevent disciplines
from communicating with each other eloquently, simply, and effectively.
Much of the research being done across the spectrum of disciplines in the
engagement space focuses on the outcomes of the engagement work, rather than
the source of who is driving the work — i.e., academics. There is scant
scholarship concerning academics who participate in community engagement
32
work, particularly in HSS. While there are a plethora of ‘call to arms’ opinion
pieces promoting an increased presence of academics in community settings,
there is little research about the role of community engagement in the lives of
academics, how academic responsibilities are balanced, and the ways in which
they are rewarded for community engagement.
2.3.1 The Scholarship of Engagement: Towards a Taxonomy of
Engagement
In response to institutions increasingly being pressured to demonstrate
their commitment to community engagement (Carnegie Foundation, 2009),
Boyer (1990, 1996) coined the term ‘scholarship of engagement,’ which focuses
on campus/community processes and outcomes in order to respond to social
need. Barker (2004) further refined Boyer’s (1996) framework and provides a
taxonomy of the practices that engaged scholars employ when working with the
public or communities. Barker (2004) suggests that engaged scholarship consists
of public scholarship, participatory research, community partnerships, public
information networks, and civic literacy.
The Franz Engaged Scholarship Model (Franz, 2009) proposes an
expanded version of the work of Boyer (1996); it also incorporates elements of
the Van de Ven’s research model of engaged scholarship (Van de Ven, 2007), and
Pennsylvania State University’s University Scholarship and Criteria for Outreach
and Performance Evaluation (UniSCOPE). The Franz Engaged Scholarship
Model situates community-engagement within the various activities expected of
academics by taking into account internal and external factors. As Sandmann
(2008) posits, “the scholarship of engagement is still emerging from its
‘definitional anarchy’ and is still evolving as an interdisciplinary field for
academic research” (p. 101). For the purposes of this research, Barker’s
framework is utilised to determine what will be classified as community
engagement activities.
There are numerous reflections on the state of community engagement
practices (e.g., Anderson, 2014; Barnett, 2005, 2015; Bowen & Graham, 2013;
Checkoway, 2013; Eatman, 2009; Fitzgerald, Bruns, Sonka, Furco, & Swanson,
33
2016; N. K. Franz, 2014; Isaacman, 2003) as well as philosophical positions on the
importance of an engaged citizenry (e.g. Macfarlane, 2005; Powell & Colin,
2008). However, as is often the case with emergent fields, there is limited
research to accompany such treatises.
This research contributes to the scholarship of engagement by detailing
how HSS scholars enact engagement activities in their contexts and the types of
supports they require to do so. As is explored below, there is a lack of scholarly
knowledge concerning how HSS disciplines conduct engagement activities —
and this research study begins to address that deficit.
2.3.1.1 Community Engagement and Academics
As community engagement activities are not undertaken by many
academics (Barnett, 2005; Macfarlane, 2005), and as formal training may be
lacking in PhD programs (Jaeger, Tuchmayer, & Morin, 2014), individuals who
wish to do community engagement work must often make their own
connections and pave their own unique path. The perspectives of academics
participating in community engagement have received minimal study. While the
scarcity of studies concerning engagement is a result of a lack of
institutionalisation of engagement practices, initiatives such as the Carnegie
Community Engagement Classification may help formalise community
engagement with greater scholarly attention and research to follow (Holland,
2009).
Though there is considerable scholarly activity in the field of engaged
scholarship — notably published in The Journal of Community Engagement and
Scholarship, The Journal of Higher Education Outreach and Engagement, and
Transform: Journal of Engaged Scholarship (formerly, The Australasian Journal of
University-Community Engagement) — there is a lack of empirical research
looking at the activities of academics who are engaging in community spaces,
how they conduct the work, and how they are rewarded. There may also be a
disconnect between the espoused commitment of institutions to community
and public engagement and what is happening in reality. The widespread
adoption of community engagement by institutions and academics alike
34
“appear[s] more a long-term and distant ambition and more closely aligned to
the promissory rhetoric and eulogising of policy discussants and proselytizers
than an honest reflection of the status quo” (Watermeyer, 2015, p. 332).
For engagement activities to achieve greater status in the academy,
reflexive practice concerning the quality of engagements may be required
(Grand, Davies, Holliman, & Adams, 2015). A survey of academics in the UK
(n=171) investigated how academics conceptualise engagement, what constitutes
engagement, and the communities where engagement activities may take place
(Grand et al., 2015). It was found that most respondents considered public
engagement (the term the researchers used) to consist of presenting (e.g., talks,
fairs, lectures, special-interest groups) and partnerships (i.e., conducting
research with diverse, non-academic groups). Other activities (workshops,
seminars, etc.), participation in elementary and secondary schools, digital
engagement (e.g., blogs, social media), and writing for the popular press (e.g.,
popular books, newspapers, magazines) featured much lower in the
participants’ concept of engagement. While rationales for conducting
engagement work including education of the public, communication, and
collaboration, influence over policy or to promote social change figured highest
(15%). When asked how the success of engagement activities was assessed, only
five of 171 responses reported employing formal or semi-formal evaluation. This
lack of evaluation is concerning given increasing pressures to monitor and assess
engagement and impact (see Section 2.5).
There is a history of scholarship on academics’ motivations generally
(Austin & Gamson, 1983; Blackburn & Lawrence, 1995; Van Knippenberg, 2000),
in addition to scholarship investigating motivations regarding community
engagement (Abes, Jackson, & Jones, 2002; Boyte, 2004; Colbeck & Michael,
2006; Jaeger & Thornton, 2006; McKay & Rozee, 2004; O’Meara, 2003; Peters,
Jordan, Adamek, & Alter, 2006; Ramley, 2014; Watermeyer, 2011, 2012, 2015).
O’Meara (2008) produced one of the few studies investigating the motivations of
academics (n=68) participating in community engagement. The study found
that motivation varied greatly based on personal goals, values, identity, and
organisational culture. O’Meara (2008) identifies seven motivations: I.
35
Motivation to facilitate student learning and growth (p. 14); II. Motivation
grounded in the perceived fit between the discipline and the engagement (p. 16);
III. Motivation grounded in personal commitments to specific social issues,
people, and places (p. 17); IV. Motivation grounded in personal/professional
identity (p. 18); V. Motivation grounded in a pursuit of rigorous scholarship and
learning (p. 19); VI. Motivation grounded in a desire for collaboration,
relationships, partners, and public-making (p. 20); and, VII. Motivation as
grounded in institutional type and mission, appointment type, and/or an
enabling reward system and culture for community engagement (p. 22). The
results of O’Meara’s study provided useful insights that inform the design of the
pilot interview questions used in this research (see 7.7Appendix A:).
A study of “the ramifications or impact of being publicly engaged on their
[community-engaged academics] academic identity, research practice and career
progression” (Watermeyer, 2015, p. 333), paints a rather grim picture of the
engagement space in the UK. Through interviews with 40 academics at various
career stages across many disciplines at a range of institutions, Watermeyer
(2015) found that community engagement was reported to be detrimental to
participants’ academic identity, research practice, and career progression. He
notes
Respondents spoke of a lack of institutional interest, acknowledgement,
incentivization and reward for PE-HE [public engagement in higher
education]; that their association with PE-HE had diluted and despoiled
their reputation as researchers; and had caused distancing from research
activity where principal investigators and research managers exploited
their PE status as an opportunity to off-load administrative chores.
(Watermeyer, 2015, p. 334)
Kasworm & Abdrahim (2014) interviewed 16 scholarship of engagement
leaders and innovators from a “variety of backgrounds, academic disciplines,
and professional roles in higher education. Each participant was selected based
upon their significant leadership, advocacy, educational outreach, service-
36
learning initiatives, community-oriented research, and/or scholarly research in
the field of SOE [Scholarship of Engagement]” (p. 123). Their findings suggest
that, even amongst those professed to be leaders in the field, there is no
common definition or understanding of the scholarship of engagement or how
engagement work is best accomplished in the life of an academic. They found
that
Individual journeys within engagement were defined by differing terms:
engaged scholarship; service-learning; civic or community engagement;
civic empowerment; applied action research; public collaborative
research; public scholarship, extension, community (public, urban)
outreach; and research partnerships. As a collective, these exemplars
held no monolithic definition, pathway, or understanding of the
scholarship of engagement. Rather, each person’s sense of engagement
was cultural and positional, actively constructed and evolved from their
unique past and current individual sociocultural roles and contexts. (p.
125)
Two enclaves emerged out of Kasworm and Abdrahim’s (2014) study, one
community engagement-centric and the other university engagement-centric.
The university-centric enclave was influenced by research traditions, carried out
with regard to expectations embedded within the RPT guidelines (p. 144). The
community-centric enclave focused on “engagement activities and collaborative
partnerships, with research most often as an auxiliary role” (p. 145). Regardless of
how engagement work was enacted, common themes emerged around
institutional and collegial support which were viewed as pivotal for the success
of community engagement work. Finally, participants emphasised the
importance of explicit institutional policy valuing the scholarship of
engagement as a pathway to action (Kasworm & Abdrahim, 2014).
There has been minimal research conducted that examines the local
engagement context across an institution. Doberneck, Glass, and Schweitzer
(2012) is one of the few examples where a university-wide picture of engagement
37
is established. They conducted an interpretive content analysis of 173 promotion
and tenure forms at Michigan State University that looked at: a) engagement
levels; b) whether academic faculty appointments (work allotment) were related
to engagement intensity; and, c) if there were specific disciplines that
demonstrated greater levels of community engagement intensity. Michigan State
University was selected as the study site because public engagement activities
were added to annual reporting requirements in 2001. Community engagement
in their research was defined as a “scholarly endeavour that cross-cuts
instruction, research and creative activities, and service; fulfils unit and
university missions; and is focused on collaboration with and benefits to
communities external to the university” (Provost’s Committee on University
Outreach, 1993). The study found that faculty employed at the institution for
between 11 and 15 years demonstrated a greater intensity of engagement with
community; faculty members with greater amounts of graduate student
supervision reported more community engagement intensity than those
primarily concerned with undergraduate; those engaged with more university
service work did less in the community; and “faculty members with primary
appointments in education, health and medical professions, and agriculture and
natural resources reported higher levels, while faculty members with primary
appointments in business, arts and humanities, and physical and biological
sciences reported lower levels” (p. 24).
General themes emerging in the literature suggest that community
engagement is increasing in profile amongst institutions and academics, yet
there is still confusion about what community engagement encompasses. While
community engagement may be positioned as an umbrella term for a number of
engagement activities, its broadness makes it difficult to paint a crisp and clear
picture of the engagement space.
2.3.2 Geographic Differences in Community Engagement
There are considerable policy differences geographically regarding the
expectations, and implementations, of community engagement. A review of
publications exploring the scholarship of engagement indicates that the
38
majority originate in the United States, where there is a considerable and
growing focus on community engagement. In 2005, the Carnegie Foundation
established the Community Engagement Classification, “an evidence-based
documentation of institutional practice to be used in a process of self-
assessment and quality improvement,” with 240 universities and colleges having
received the designation in 2015 (http://carnegieclassifications.iu.edu). The
Carnegie Foundation classification will run again in 2020 and points to
community engagement increasingly being acknowledged as an important
aspect of an institutional mission. An important distinction is that the
classification is not limited to research activities; rather, it is a holistic, all of
university, approach. There is engagement scholarship in various other regions,
such the UK, but as the focus of this project is Canada and Australia, they are the
examined below.
2.3.2.1 Canada
In recent years, there has been an increase in the adoption of the
language of community engagement in mission statements and administrators’
speeches in Canada (Randall, 2010). Nine universities have joined a consortium
under the banner Rewarding Community Engaged Scholarship: Transforming
University Policies and Practices (RCES), which coordinates workshops and
conferences, and produces reports on the current state of (what they call)
community-engaged scholarship in the Canadian context
(http://engagedscholarship.ca). However, the language of community
engagement is being adopted inconsistently by institutions in Canada and does
not play a significant role in collective agreements and academic staff
assessment policies (Barreno, Elliott, Madueke, & Sarny, 2013). While
community-engagement scholarship may feature into institutions’ external
personae, it is often not a critical component of RPT processes.
2.3.2.2 Australia
Australia has a history of academic community engagement activities
and, in recent years, has “gained increasing credence and support from
community members, policy makers and many academics” (Winter, Wiseman,
39
& Muirhead, 2006, p. 212). Eklund and Hardy (2014) argue that a ‘third sector’
area — i.e., in addition to teaching and research — is growing and has become a
vital part of the mission of institutions in Australia. The increase in adoption of
community engagement policies and practices is the result of changes in
institutions (e.g., massification and increased accessibility of education) and
growing international debate concerning the role of institutions in community,
particularly in rural spaces where there is considerable institutional disconnect
and underrepresentation (Winter et al., 2006, p. 213). While community
engagement activities by academics and institutions may be increasing, there is
still a lack of structure, reward, and formalisation (Carman, 2013; A. Winter et
al., 2006). The EI 2018 assessment will likely generate more interesting and
institutional resourcing of engagement.
2.3.3 Engagement Methods
Within engaged scholarship, activities relating to community
engagement can be varied and diverse. There are many methods for engaging
with community, but it is not within the scope of this research to review each
method in detail. This research is primarily concerned with the research-related
engagement activities of academics. Service-learning, for example, is a
pedagogical strategy commonly utilised on campuses as a means to engage
students in community; but, as much of the literature (such as Butin, 2010;
Jacoby, 1996; Levesque-Bristol, Knapp, & Fisher, 2010) is concerned with student
experience rather than that of the academics, it will not be reviewed. Language
is inconsistently applied and various disciplines have adopted variations on
similar themes; for example, community-based participatory research (CBPR) is
also commonly called community-based action research and community
participatory action research (Shalowitz et al., 2009). As a foundation for
exploring the methodologies contained within the scholarship of engagement
and community engagement practices, Barker's (2004) taxonomy of five
emerging practices — public scholarship, participatory research, community
partnerships, public information networks, and civic skills or civic literacy —
will be examined.
40
2.3.3.1 Public scholarship
Public scholarship is a form of deliberative democratic processes by
which communities are engaged to address issues concerning them (Barker,
2004, p. 129). Jordan et al. (2002) define public scholarship as “original, creative,
peer-evaluated intellectual work that is fully integrated in a public-work
project” (p. 547). Examples of public scholarship include town hall meetings and
public forums. Those who engage in public scholarship are often guided by
conceptions of participatory democracy such as those outlined by John Dewey
(1994) and Jurgen Habermas (2001). An underlying assumption of public
scholarship is that an informed public will make better choices and progress
society forward. Public scholarship in universities is practiced across disciplines
and is often formalised through associations, organisations, and institutions,
with an aim to share research and shape institutional and/or public policy, using
a variety of methods which may include study circles, intergroup dialogues, and
national issues forums (Mallory & Thomas, 2003).
2.3.3.2 Participatory Research
Participatory research — a range of methodologies referred to as action
research, emancipatory action research, and participatory action research —
“stresses the active role citizens can play in the production of academic
knowledge…while public scholars are more concerned with enhancing the
quality of public participation in research, for participatory research the
emphasis tends to be on promoting participation itself” (Barker, 2004, p. 130).
Participatory research is not typically conducted with a generalist audience;
rather it is specific, focused, and intentional, typically with the goal of solving a
problem or coming to a better, more robust, understanding of an issue. It could
be said that participatory research looks to uncover the interests, conditions
and struggles of “the other” (Butler, 1990) or “others,” rather than a
heterogeneous general audience. Participatory research has been used in
disciplines and topic areas such as community development, epidemiology,
youth health promotion, university-community partnerships, and self-help
(Jason, Keys, Suarez-Balcazar, Taylor, & Davis, 2004).
41
2.3.3.3 Community Partnerships
Community partnerships are concerned with the uncovering and
disruption of hegemony by building social movements through social
transformation (Barker, 2004). Service learning initiatives may be contained
within community partnerships but there are various other configurations and
connections possible, including research-based activities. Community
partnerships pair academics or institutions with agencies, schools, non-profit
organisations (NPOs), social interest groups, etc., in order to conduct what
Boyer (1996) terms “public work.” Many institutions have developed centralised
units which assist with facilitating and structuring such partnerships, for
example Swinburne University of Technology’s Collaborations and Partnerships
division (https://www.swinburne.edu.au/business-partnerships/research-
commercialisation/research-partnerships/).
2.3.3.4 Public Information Networks
Public information networks “typically help communities identify
resources and assets by providing comprehensive databases of local activists,
advocacy groups, and available services.” (Barker, 2004, p. 131). These networks
help individuals or organisations identify pre-existing resources in order to
address a problem. An example in the Canadian context is the Institute of Sexual
Minority Studies and Services (iSMSS) at the University of Alberta, where an
academic director responds to community needs around sex, sexuality, and
gender issues and connects people and groups to resources to address research,
legal, psychological, psychiatric, social, and educational needs
(http://www.ismss.ualberta.ca).
2.3.3.5 Civic Skills or Civic Literacy
Civic skills or civic literacy is typically concerned with activities targeting
generalist/lay public audiences through, for example, publishing in popular
venues such as newspaper opinion columns, writing blogs using accessible
language, participating in public events (e.g., Ted Talks, Nerd Nites), or giving
public lectures programmed by universities. These activities are intended to
“enhance democratic processes by ensuring that their disciplines are supplying
42
publics with the knowledge necessary for reflective judgments on public issues”
(Barker, 2004, p. 132). Civic literacy is concerned with the transmission of highly
specialised knowledge by academics to more generalist lay audiences in order to
inform, educate, and reduce the barrier between in public and academic spaces.
Civic literacy has a lengthy tradition in the humanities and social sciences but
increasingly is being adopted and implemented in science (Burgess, 2014).
2.3.3.6 Conclusions on Engagement Methods
There is occasional overlap and blur — particularly between public
scholarship and participatory research — across the terms within the taxonomy
of engaged scholarship proposed by Barker (2004). Participants in this research
were given the opportunity to define how they understand their role in
community engagement and how they situate themselves and their activities,
rather than imposing any one particular definition of engagement. How
participants understood the notion of community engagement in their
individual contexts is explored in Section 4.1.1.
2.3.4 Community Engagement in Humanities and Social Sciences
The focus of this study is on those who conduct qualitative research in the
humanities and social sciences (HSS) disciplines. While not exhaustive, some
examples of HSS disciplines include anthropology, archaeology, arts, economics,
education, gender/sexuality studies, geography, history, information studies,
literature, linguistics, philosophy, political science, psychology, religion, and
sociology. There are a number of terms that are applied — often interchangeably
— to describe engaged scholars and community engagement in HSS, including
public scholarly and creative work, publicly engaged academic work, public
scholarship, public engagement, publicly engaged humanists, civically engaged
scholars, civic agency, civic professionals, community partnerships, and
community engagement (Doberneck, Glass, & Schweitzer, 2010; Ellison &
Eatman, 2008). Through the lens of engaged scholarship, Barker (2004)
provides a loose taxonomy of possible activities to engage with communities,
either in the research process or in communicating the outcomes of research.
Reviewed in this section are studies that draw on elements of the taxonomy
43
proposed by Barker. Engagement activities do not fit into tidy boxes and there is
often overlap between them. For example, a common theme in the community
partnerships literature is a reliance on Community-Based Participatory Research
(CBPR) frameworks and literature on CBPR often refers to community
partnerships (Amey et al., 2002; Harris et al., 2012; Siemens, 2012). The examples
in the following sections (2.3.4.1 through 2.3.4.3) are provided as exemplars to
illustrate research related to the elements of Barker’s (2004) taxonomy —
activities that engaged scholars, such as those in this study, participate in.
2.3.4.1 Civic Literacy Through Media Engagement
There is little literature concerning the media activities of social science
and humanities scholars, but some studies have been conducted addressing the
need for media training for scientists and engineers. Gascoigne and Metcalfe
(1997) found that lack of training an impediment to participation in media
activities, and the Royal Society (2006) found that individuals who had received
media training were more likely to participate in public engagement activities
including media. Chapman et al. (2014) interviewed 36 leading public-health
researchers in Australia and found that many believed media training, which
was “often supplied by in-house staff,” (p. 269) was highly beneficial.
Participants reflected on the value of local media officers in “soliciting and
managing media contact, preparing releases, and assisting journalists behind
the scenes” (Chapman et al., 2014, p. 269).
Drawing on data from 1992 and 2001 in Norwegian universities, Kyvik
(2005) investigated humanities and social sciences scholars publishing in
popular venues. He found academics who are prolific in traditional channels
tend to also publish more in popular venues, with the articles for lay audiences
coming from a disproportionately small number of academics. Orr (2010)
suggests that many academics suffer from mediaphobia, where they fear losing
control of how their research is communicated and understood when translated
by media interests. Academics wishing to engage publicly may risk being held to
public scrutiny, which can be daunting.
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2.3.4.2 Community Partnerships
Community partnerships can be a method of robust community
engagement activity. Using an ethnographic case study approach (n=9), Carlton
et al. (2009) identified four key elements essential to university-community
collaborations: a) people - the factor most indicated by participants of the
research period, having the right people in place was seen as very important; b)
relationships - participants stressed the importance of interpersonal, rather
than inter-institutional relationships; c) vision - having a shared goals
permitted individuals from different backgrounds and perspectives, common
ground; and d) structure - laying a strong foundation with institutional
support.
Siemens (2012) conducted a case study analysis of the process of
developing a Master of Arts in Community Development (MACD) program at
the University of Victoria (Canada), which extends “partnerships beyond
research and service learning projects to academic programming” (p. 21). The
MACD looked to integrate into both the university community and broader
community. To ensure the degree represented the needs and perspectives of
both groups — who were often at odds with regard to scale, nimbleness, and
bureaucratic processes — community-university partnerships were formed.
Siemens (2012) found that community members felt frustrated and blocked
from making decisions due, in part, to the strict schedule for implementing the
program. Tensions arose during community consultations as certain
community expectations were unable to be fulfilled in light of university
structure and regulation (length of program, credits, number of courses,
capstone project structure). The following recommendations for conducting
community-university partnerships were proposed: a) set out clear expectations
of community partners delimiting where their responsibilities begin and end;
b) care must be taken when working with community who many find
themselves alienated or disaffected by university structure and bureaucracy; c)
sufficient time must be allocated for partnership relationship development and
program consultation, development, and implementation; and d) a
memorandum of understanding may go far to making all parties accountable
45
for their contributions and honouring commitments (Siemens, 2012).
Amey, Brown, and Sandmann (2002) produced similar
recommendations when engaging in community-university partnerships, which
include: a) building a multidisciplinary team takes considerable time; b)
leadership should not be static, but rather dynamic as the partnership evolves;
c) the structures of organisations must be taken into account and strategies be
put in place to bridge gaps where necessary; d) the culture of faculty and
institutions may inhibit participation; and e) neutral space is a key for success.
While such scholarship lays out the processes for building community
partnerships, it fails to take into account the barriers and enables which exist
locally within the university. This research begins to address that disconnect.
How such engagements were enacted by participants in this study is discussed
in Section 4.1.2.
2.3.4.3 Participatory Research
For HSS scholars in particular, community-based research (CBR),
community-based participatory research (CBPR), action research and other
emerging methods of involving communities in research are increasing in
prevalence and becoming more widely accepted at institutions (Whiteford &
Strom, 2013). In spite of increasing acceptance, there are still many barriers to
conducting CBR research. Savan, Flicker, Kolenda, and Mildenberger (2009)
surveyed a wide cross-section of CBR practitioners (n=308) and found that
participants perceived there to be several barriers to conducting CBR work, with
the top five responses being: 1) scarcity of funding for CBR projects; 2)
insufficient institutional support; 3) insufficient time for CBR in light of more
highly valued responsibilities; 4) lack of resources; and 5) the perception that
CBR was academically lacking in rigour.
An exemplar of CBR in action saw sociologists Tanaka and Mooney (2010)
use participatory methods to conduct research into food security in a
partnership between the University of Kentucky, The Lexington Community
Food Assessment project, and various alternative agrifood movement
organizations. The research involved students, community members, and
46
academics to address a range of food sustainability and security issues over
many years in various stages. They note that
Despite constant shifts of students, community leaders, and
stakeholders, we were successful in nurturing this project because
outputs of each phase of the project created new associations for the
next phase and allowed project participants to simultaneously play
multiple roles over time. (Tanaka & Mooney, 2010, p. 581)
The project amplified the voices of community members in order to explicitly
respond to the direct needs of the community.
In spite of CBR’s ability to respond directly to community need,
disciplinary narratives and norms can be a barrier to adopting CBR approaches.
For example, Chan & Farrington (2018) argue that information systems (IS)
researchers tend to avoid conducting CBR as their goal is international, not
local, impact. Individual researchers exist within complex ecosystems with
pressures to produce research in specific ways stemming from their formal
training, disciplinary norms, and the priorities of the institution. This research
project looks to identify ways that researchers find ways to conduct
engagement work (including CBR), their rationale for adopting such
approaches, and the supports they receive from their institutions.
2.3.4.4 Conclusions on Community Engagement in HSS
Much of the community-engagement literature focuses on best practices
for coordinating partnerships but fails to consider the lived experience of the
academic approaching the research. There is scant scholarship regarding how
academics can best approach community engagement work and maintain
balance with their academic responsibilities — i.e., their research, teaching,
and service/administration loads.
2.3.5 Community Engagement in Health Research
While the engagement activities of medical and health researchers are
not within the scope of this research, the engagement space in health is
reviewed to provide a broad picture across various academic disciplines.
47
In the health and medical research communities, community
engagement is seen as a potential pathway to improve patient outcomes
(Bowen & Graham, 2013; Gebbie, Rosenstock, Hernandez, & Institute of
Medicine (U.S.), 2003; Lavery et al., 2010). Involving stakeholders (e.g., patients,
parents, community) in the research process allows better representation of
those that it affects. Bowen and Graham (2013) suggest that there are various
ways of conducting community engagement activities in healthcare with a
focus on participatory, rather than deliberative, engagement; the range of
community engagement is considerable and may also include more traditional
dissemination activities such as pamphlets, brochures, videos, public talks, etc.
Abelson, Giacomini, Lehoux, & Gauvin (2007) caution that there is a “difference
between public accountability and public participation, [which] are not well
articulated or distinguished” (p. 37), further confounding an already
tumultuous engagement space.
A greater emphasis concerning community engagement is required in
public health research; “there is no explicit body of community engagement
knowledge to which researchers can turn for guidance about approaches that
are most likely to be effective in different contexts, and why” (Lavery et al.,
2010, p. 279). Because of this lack of guidance within the discipline, it can be a
challenging for health researchers eager to do community engagement
activities to know where to start.
2.3.5.1 Canadian Context
There has been a growing focus on knowledge translation (KT) and
knowledge mobilisation (KM) in health research, and Canada has been a driver
of many of the approaches (Estabrooks, Thompson, Lovely, & Hofmeyer, 2006).
While there are differences between KT/KM and community engagement,
there is also considerable conceptual overlap and KT/KM may be considered a
form of community engagement. In Canada, KT/KM strategies have largely
been built into funding structures and requirements for health research. Put
succinctly, when you apply for funding for a health-related study, it is expected
that how results will be adopted by intended stakeholders will be addressed.
48
The Canadian Institutes of Health Research (CIHR), one of three national
funding agencies, recognises knowledge translation in two ways: a) integrated
knowledge translation (iKT) research, where KT principles are applied
throughout the research process in collaboration with and between knowledge
users (stakeholders) and researchers; and b) end-of-grant KT, which is “any
activity aimed at diffusing, disseminating or applying the results of a research
project” (http://cihr-irsc.gc.ca/e/45321.html). While both approaches may be
considered community engagement, iKT falls squarely within the realm of
engaged scholarship — i.e., wherein knowledge users are involved in co-
creation during the research process. Straus, Tetroe, and Graham (2013) suggest
that it is vital “to ensure that knowledge users are decision makers [are] in the
research planning, implementation and interpretation process. They must not
be treated simply as data sources, advisors, or (even more cynically) a means to
a funding end” (p. 21).
A distinct difference between some definitions of community
engagement and KT/KM is the audience being targeted by the activities. In the
former, the audience is typically general public or specific user groups (new
mothers, cancer survivors, dialysis patients, etc.) whereas in the latter, the
audience may — and often does — include practitioners (nurses, doctors,
paramedical professionals, etc.) as stakeholders; however, the term
‘community’ can also adopted to refer to both, thereby creating definitional
ambiguity.
While KT/KM planning is expected to be included in funding proposals,
Bowen and Graham (2013) suggest that actual KT initiatives often fall short –
i.e., that research not reaching and being adopted by stakeholders may not be
the fault of “knowledge transfer, but rather of knowledge production” (p. S4).
To address this gap, they propose adopting engaged scholarship practices as
part of the research process, positing that “dissemination is too late if the
questions that have been asked are not of interest to users” (p. S6).
An evaluation of the websites of five prominent Canadian Health
organisations found that there was minimal involvement with the public on
committees, as public members, or with regard to assessment or policy advisory
49
(Abelson, Giacomini, Lehoux, and Gauvin, 2007). The analysis revealed
inconsistent use of the words public and stakeholder, which requires additional
investigation and interrogation:
Although often used interchangeably, the terms “stakeholders” and “the
public” are not the same thing. Stakeholders, as the term suggests, are
parties that have a ‘stake’ (self-interest in terms of resources, power, etc.)
in a given issue (e.g., professional, consumer advocacy groups and
pharmaceutical companies). Technically, the public also holds a stake on
many issues, but representing the public’s interest incorporates a much
broader, diffused and fragmented set of interests that are not easily
mobilized. (Alelson, et al., 2007, p. 43)
In a scoping review of public deliberation in health research, it was
found that the definition of ‘public’ varied considerably across the research
(Degeling, Carter, & Rychetnik, 2015), making it challenging to understand who
the public is and their role in research.
2.3.5.2 Australian Context
In Australia, community engagement has received increased attention in
recent years. The language of community engagement differs in Australia from
Canada with little attention paid to KT; instead, community and consumer
engagement is the phrase most often adopted (Heath Consumers Queensland,
2012; Sarrami Foroushani, Travaglia, Eikli, & Braithwaite, 2012). The Australian
Institute of Health Innovation conducted a comprehensive scoping study of
databases regarding community engagement (using a range of related
keywords) and identified several barriers that prevent effective consumer and
community engagement, including: lack of infrastructure support of
organisations; lack of skill and confidence in organisations; lack of skills in
consumers; insufficient opportunity for vulnerable groups for input; weak links
between providers of health information and recipients; and disseminating
information without consumer inputs (Sarrami Foroushani et al., 2012, p. 15).
Moreover, their study found a lack of robust evidence and research into
50
community engagement activities, a lack of consistency with regards to
language applied in the engagement space, and a lack of evaluative tools to
measure and evaluate the success of activities.
2.3.5.3 Benefits of Community Engagement in Health Research
As an example of how community engagement can produce positive
outputs in the health sectors, Doran and Hornibrook (2013) relied on
community engagement strategies to establish research in a partnership
between a university, a women’s health centre, and a community-controlled
non-government Aboriginal health service. There were multiple positive
outcomes of the research, including: a strengthened capacity to meet the needs
of women in the community during pregnancy and postpartum; increased
involvement from various stakeholders which was ongoing; and, a strong
possibility of engaging in additional research due to the community-engaged
relationship that had been established (Doran and Hornbook, 2013, p. 60).
Community engagement strategies were employed as part of the
ongoing, longitudinal National Children’s Study (Sapienza, Corbie-Smith,
Keim, and Fleischman, 2007). The authors posit that community engagement
has not only been critical to the success of the study thus far (with 100+ sites),
but that its engagement mechanisms (connections, networks, stakeholder buy-
in) will sustain the study into the future, making it viable in the long term. By
being cognisant of community and layering in community engagement
methods within the study, they hope to be able to better respond to community
needs based on their involvement in and ownership of the project (Sapienza et
al., 2007).
There is a distinction between community engagement (an umbrella
term encapsulating all community engagement activities undertaken by a
university), and community engagement in research (integrating community
engagement principles throughout the research process) (Ahmed & Palermo,
2010). One possible method of integrating community engagement in research
is community-based participatory research. Community-based participatory
research has been found to boast a number of benefits including increased
51
understanding in the community of issues being studied, increased
understanding of community priorities for researchers, and a highlighted
importance of addressing community priorities and the need for culturally
appropriate communications and approaches (Gebbie et al., 2003).
2.3.5.4 Conclusions on Community Engagement in Health Research
As “an estimated 90% of health determinants are not health system-
related, but social and economic” (Kilpatrick, 2009, p. 41), community
engagement strategies are well suited to inform and supplement health
research. Community engagement activities in Australia and Canada are largely
being introduced as part of funding expectations. How end-users (e.g., patients,
health care providers, community users), will inform and/or come to
understand the research is often a key portion of the research plan.
2.3.6 Community Engagement in Science
As far back as the fourth and fifth centuries, Saint Augustine advocated
for what we might now label “open science.” The science disciplines have a long
history of supporting activities that make science accessible and publicly
available in order to serve the “public good” (Dalrymple, 2003, p. 36). In the
sciences, some of the concepts that may be considered tangential to (or part and
parcel of) community engagement are public engagement, popularisation,
popular publishing, and science outreach. Participants from Science,
Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM) disciplines were not
included in this study, partly because there is already considerable research into
how these fields engage with the public. For example, there are several journals
occupying this space, chief among them being The International Journal of
Science in Society, Science Communication, and Public Understanding of Science.
There has been a tacit shift in how science positions itself in relation to
the public, from using understanding of science to engagement of science
(Stilgoe, Lock, and Wilsdon, 2014). Burgess' (2014) essay, “From ‘trust us’ to
Participatory Governance: Deliberative Publics and Science Policy,”
complements on this thesis by tracking the approaches that science has taken
over the last few decades. There has been an evolution from a paternalistic
52
approach to relying on collaborative and engaged processes with communities
(Burgess, 2014). While there is a history of science outreach and communication
(especially through mass media), the field is still evolving, and new attention is
being paid to how scientists can best engage with communities through new and
traditional media. The range of community engagement possibilities is
inexhaustible, from using humour in science communication (Riesch, 2014) to
discourse on climate change (Weingart, Engels, & Pansegrau, 2000).
For example, in a survey of 1000 academics and postgraduates regarding
their attitudes and experiences towards community engagement, participants
generally had a positive attitude towards participating in such activities and
believed that family and friends approved of their participation; however,
participants reported a strong belief that many of their colleagues did not
participate in engagement activities (Poliakoff and Webb, 2007). There were four
factors that could determine a scientist’s intentions to participate in community
engagement activities — past behaviour, attitude, perceived behavioural control,
and descriptive norm (Poliakoff & Webb, 2007, p. 254):
In other words, scientists who decide not to participate in public
engagement activities do so because (a) they have not participated in the
past, (b) they have a negative attitude toward participation, (c) they feel
that they lack the skills to take part, and (d) they do not believe that
their colleagues participate in public engagement activities. (Poliakoff &
Webb, 2007, p. 259)
While their study is quantitative in nature, the findings help inform the design
of this project, particularly concerning participants’ attitudes towards
community engagement.
Another important as aspect of this research is support from institutions
for community engagement activates. In an investigation into the attitudes of
university research scientists with regard to activities intended to aid in the
public’s understanding of science, participants (n=12) generally saw their
community engagement activities as valuable but reported several obstacles
53
(McCann, Cramer, and Taylor, 2015). Participants reported a general lack of local
support and resources from their institutions, indicated that achieving balance
with research and outreach activities was challenging, and suggested that there
was often difficulty communicating with non-scientist audiences. Of particular
interest for this research, younger scientists who did not have tenure more
readily involved themselves in community engagement activities than their
senior counterparts (McCann, Cramer, & Taylor, 2015). At institutions with an
established history of fostering community engagement activities and
appropriate support mechanisms in place, the barrier to entry was diminished
irrespective of participant age or career location.
While academics shy away from engagement activities for fear that it may
hinder career progression, Jensen, Rouquier, Kreimer, and Croissant (2008)
found that scientists (n=3500) in France who engage with the public tend to be
more active academically. Their study disputes the myth that those in science
who do community engagement are unequipped or sufficiently elite for
academic careers — often referred to as the Sagan effect (Russo, 2010) — but
rather, scientists at all career levels are engaging in this space, including
“academically active scientists, that receive no reward for their engagement”
(Jensen et al., 2008, p. 16). Their findings suggest that participating in
community engagement activities had no impact (positive or negative) on their
career development and that promotion and tenure remained reliant on
academic indicators such as dissemination and amount of funding received
(Jensen et al., 2008).
The public talk has long been a cornerstone of science dissemination and
popularisation (Hilgartner, 1990). In recent years, this format has become
increasingly ubiquitous and more accessible with the advent of streaming video
such as YouTube and sharing via social media. One of the popular platforms for
science dissemination via community engagement that has emerged is TED
Talks. Sugimoto et al. (2013) utilised bibliometric and webometric techniques to
investigate the impact of recorded and distributed TED lectures. They found a
majority of academic TED presenters were senior faculty, male, typically from
the United States (where TED Talks originated), had an online presence, and
54
were cited at higher than average rates in their fields. This, perhaps, is
unsurprising as TED targets high performing and dynamic speakers for their
event. Conducting a TED Talk did not appear to have an impact on the number
of citations for an academic subsequently (Sugimoto et al., 2013).
A comprehensive study surveyed 61,048 academic staff across 13
countries on popular science publishing (a form of community engagement)
garnered a 29% response rate (Bentley and Kyvik, 2011). A majority of
respondents were academically active (one academic publication in the last
three years) but only one-third had produced something for non-academic
audiences in the same time period. There are a variety of reasons why
academics may choose to not publish in popular or public venues, including
lack of interest, time, rewards, incentives, and experience (Bentley & Kyvik,
2011).
2.3.6.1 Conclusions on Community Engagement in Science
Community engagement in science is struggling to find a foothold.
While it is being adopted and practiced in pockets, it is no way ubiquitous.
Many barriers — institutional, disciplinary, and individual — exist, which
additional research may need to unpack. Those barriers are important for
contextualising this research project. While science disciplines certainly have
different histories, priorities, and epistemological traditions, they still exist in
the larger system — along with HSS scholars — in higher education.
2.3.7 Technology-Mediated Engagement Research
Advances in technology have created new ways for academics to engage
with the public; these included “photo sharing websites, online exhibitions,
films, virtual reality projects, and 3D reconstructions of archaeological sites, for
example in Second Life” (Harley et al. (2010, p. 130). New technologies permit
academics to develop their own “academic brand,” which enables them to
expand their audience beyond the confines of institutional walls and into the
public (Pearce, Weller, Scanlon, and Kinsley, 2012). With minimal to no
institutional support, social media — blogs, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, and
other services — have opened new, previously-unprecedented avenues for
55
engaging with community. However, there is inconsistency in social media
adoption and, in most cases, the intended audience remains an academic one.
2.3.7.1 Social Media
Social media have provided new mechanisms for scholars to
communicate with one another and the public. Sugimoto et al. (2017) have
compiled an extensive review of scholarship on social media use by academics,
detailing the platforms being used and they ways academics are using them.
Overall, they found that Facebook activity was restricted to private life activity,
Twitter blurred the personal/professional persona line, and services such as
academia.edu and ResearchGate served as professional profiles (akin to digital
business cards).
There has been a considerable amount of research in recent years
concerning academics’ use of social media, but most studies fail to provide
options for respondents to reflect on their interactions with the public using
these platforms (Hank, 2011; Mahrt & Puschmann, 2014; Peruta & Shields, 2017;
Pringle & Fritz, 2018; Sugimoto et al., 2017; Van Noorden, 2014; Wilkinson &
Weitkamp, 2013). Wilkinson and Weitkamp (2013) found that a small number of
respondents in their study reported using social media; of those, 47% connected
with other researchers and 28% communicated with the public. Acord and
Harley (2012) echo these results, finding that while social media provided a
valuable avenue for collaborating and tapping into various scholarly resources,
such technologies were used minimally for dissemination. When participants
were asked with whom they were communicating, “almost half (n=17, 47%) that
were using social media had been in contact with other researchers, and 28%
(n=10) had been in contact with a member of the public via that route”
(Wilkinson & Weitkamp, 2013). In terms of academic blogging, a study noted
that 45% of participants found “the idea of colleagues from their field reading
their posts appealing, which may point to a dual role of blogs as channels of
internal scholarly communication as well as public debate” (Mahrt and
Puschmann's, 2014, p. 6). These studies focus on academic dissemination and
social media use but do not measure uptake, adoption, or interaction from the
56
perspective of a public user.
One of the more comprehensive studies is reported in Van Noorden’s
article in Nature entitled “Online Collaboration: Scientists and the Social
Network.” Van Noorden (2014) surveyed approximately 3000 scientists and
engineers and 480 academics in the social sciences, arts, and humanities on
their social media use, with the following response categories: do not use
professionally; curiosity only; in case contacted; track metrics; discover jobs;
discover peers; discover recommended papers; contact peers; post (work)
content; share links to authored content; actively discuss research; comment on
research; and follow discussions. Of the options available, none focused
specifically on the general public or community engagement. Unfortunately, Van
Noorden’s categories did not include community engagement therefore cannot
be generalised to suggest it is not being conducted in social media spaces —
which is perhaps an oversight with the rich data that could have been garnered
concerning public collaboration and engagement. A study in Saudi Arabia
(n=77) reported similar findings, that social media was heavily employed by
academics for the purposes of scientific communications (Miksa, 2014). While
participants may have been using social media in their roles as academics for
other purposes (aside from strictly personal use) the study did not include
community engagement considerations. The fact that such studies failed to
include community engagement as a rationale for academics engaging with
social media may speak to the marginalised nature of community engagement
within the academy.
In a survey of academics (n=152) in various disciplines on their intended
audience for their academic blogs, participants were asked to identify the
primary and secondary audience with which their writing was targeted (Hank,
2011). While the overwhelming primary response was “colleagues and
professional peers” (61%), the “general public” received a relatively large number
of responses as well (32%). The results for secondary audience saw “colleagues
and professional peers” drop to 22% and the “general public” increase to 34%
(Hank, 2011, p. 140). The results suggest that while the general public may not be
the primary audience for a majority of respondents, it is still a key consideration
57
and a recognised potential audience. Interviews conducted by Hank (2011)
suggests that while academics acknowledge that the general public is a potential
or even intended audience, the majority of readers are highly specialised
colleagues and peers, familiar with terminology and with a vested interested in
the topic.
As Kieslinger (2015) points out, there is a range of social media use that
goes from heavy (with participants describing it as an addiction) to heavily
targeted (e.g., only using it to promote a research paper). Social media use also
tends to be heavily influenced by academic discipline, where those in science
have greater representation than the social sciences and humanities (Rowlands,
Nicholas, Russell, Canty, & Watkinson, 2011).
The fact that academics’ social media activities are focused primarily
within their disciplines is not surprising; as Goodwin (2000) suggests, scholars
tend to conform to communication activities that best boost potential impact
with their target audience. For most academics, their target audience is one that
will provide them with opportunities to share, to collaborate, and to help raise
their academic profile. Academics are adopting social media as a research
practice, but services, supports, and training remain areas of need and available
on an ad hoc basis. Additional study is required to inform best practices and
provide guidance in this rapidly evolving space. Social media has considerable
potential for community engagement, but academics’ use is predominately
focused on communications amongst the scholarly community. Social media use
is a consideration for this research as it is a potential conduit for engaged
scholars to interact with the public. Findings from this research project
regarding social media are explored in Section 0.
2.3.7.2 Open Access (OA) and Other Publishing Strategies
Open Access (OA) enables access to research publications. However,
while materials may be publicly available, this does not mean they are accessible
to a public audience. Research findings published in journals are rarely distilled
or translated for public consumption regardless of their publication venue (open
source or publisher-based) (Zuccala, 2009). Many academics are increasingly
58
using open access platforms for dissemination of research findings, but little is
known about what strategies work to increase non-academic audience
engagement or if that is an intended goal at all. Although some scholars may
also publish in non-scholarly venues (e.g., trade publications, The Conversation),
where research content is translated for a broader audience, there is little
research on the prevalence and/or effectiveness of these strategies for
engagement.
Doctoral students and doctoral graduates (n=1,104) reported a perceived
extrinsic advantage to contributing to a rich OA database (Samrgandi, 2014).
Intrinsically, participants reported a belief that publishing their dissertation to
OA was a valuable use of their time, that it would be useful for increasing their
reputations as authors, was helpful in building a career in academia and, by
joining a rich database of others’ work, it would be useful to making an author’s
work more prestigious. By making their scholarly work universally available,
participants believed there was an improved chance of being seen and adopted
by their target audience, others in the field. While increasing the audience of a
participant’s research was seen as important, the audience remained a
thoroughly academic one with, again, no mention of community or public
audiences beyond the academy.
2.3.7.3 Conclusions on Technology-Mediated Research
While technology has provided academics the capacity engage publicly
through social media and open access activities, most academics who engage in
these spaces continue to do so primarily with academic audiences.
2.4 University Positioning of Community Engagement
Community engagement activities vary greatly based on institutional
location, historic positioning, and priorities. In the United States, the Kettering
Foundation, Kellogg Foundation, and Carnegie Foundation have been
advocating for increased public transparency and engagement by universities for
many years (Franz, 2009). In the UK, while there are increased pressures to
conduct community engagement, pressure has also increased with regards to
traditional academic functions: “expansion towards a mass system means a
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higher workload in terms of teaching and assessment, and the emergence of
research assessment exercises means increased pressure to access funding,
conduct research, and produce publications for an academic audience” (Bond
and Paterson, 2005, p. 347). Several commentators have indicated a shift in
dissemination priorities in science-based disciplines to include a greater focus
on public and non-generalist dissemination (Jensen et al., 2008; Kyvik, 2005;
Peters et al., 2008; Royal Society, 2006; Scott, 2006). As Bornmann (2014) notes,
Until a few decades ago, the general assumption in science policy was
that a society could benefit most from research that is conducted at a
very high level – evaluated according to the standards inherent in
science. In recent years, this automatistic approach has found less favour
in science policy; policymakers expect science to demonstrate its value
to society. (Bornmann, 2014, p. 896)
In health-related fields, engagement activities (e.g. participatory research, KT
activities) are often built into funding requirements and are thus becoming
entrenched as disciplinary norms (Abelson et al., 2007).
The difference in language used within the engagement space across
disciplines makes interdisciplinary collaboration a more challenging
proposition. Academics may be engaging in similar activities with community
but adopting or applying different terminology. Additional scholarship focused
on engaged scholarship activities is needed in order to clarify and streamline
language around engagement and engagement activities. Doberneck, Glass, and
Schweitzer (2010) suggest that a clearer typology and etymology of engagement
will go far to improve interdisciplinary collaboration and provide institutional
leaders with the language to better communicate their institutions’
contributions to communities and society in general.
Community engagement is also occasionally at odds with how
universities have been positioned in society, historically. The notion of the
institution as “ivory tower” may, however, be diminishing with academics
reporting community engagement as relevant to their other academic
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responsibilities (teaching, research, and service). When respondents were asked
if they felt institutions should undertake various community engagement
activities, respondents in Scotland (n=372) and England (n=340) believed that
institutions should engage in public debate (87%/85%), offer public courses and
lectures (68%/66%), and provide advice to policy makers (88%/88%) (Bond &
Paterson, 2005, p. 338). When asked, however, if they individually engaged in
community-based activities in the last three years the percentages were much
lower: 57%/49% had spoken to a non-academic audience; 46%/40% appeared in
print and/or broadcast media; 21%/19% had provided consultation to a non-
governmental organisation; and, only 18%/13% reported providing consultation
to a government department (Bond & Paterson, 2005, p. 339).
2.4.1 Academics’ Preparation for Community Engagement
A main role of academic librarians is teaching the difference between
popular and scholarly publications (D. Brown, 2015). Students in institutions are
taught early in their academic careers how to cite relevant materials, including
the appropriate use of scholarly versus lay materials for their disciplines. Some
academics may denounce use of Wikipedia or references that are not peer
reviewed and published in reputable publications, while others may support a
mix of venues depending on the discipline and the nature of the work.
Publishing in journals remains a core expectation of academics and they must
continue to cite scholarly work in publications and grant applications; yet, they
may not receive much training in how to then translate that work for non-
academic audiences. Some academics may be trained early on that publishing in
popular media is not seen as being academically rigorous, nor the domain of
academics in general; however, others (especially in professional disciplines) are
taught that publishing in trade or practitioner journals is relevant and
appropriate. In many institutions, non-scholarly publications may not carry
much weight in RPT decisions; much depends on the academic’s full curriculum
vitae and the balance of scholarly versus other venues for dissemination.
Within this complex space, academics’ information needs may not be
fully met through formal academic training and institutional strategies to
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support community engagement (Austin, 2002a; Bentley & Kyvik, 2011). In order
for popular and community-based activities to be valued to a greater extent, a
radical re-envisioning in the value that institutions place on these activities and
outputs may need to be considered.
Initiatives such as service learning may be contributing to furthering this
dialogue, but a multi-pronged approach may be required, including language in
policy, adjustments to RPT processes, and initiatives aimed at ingratiating
institutions into communities and the public. However, without sufficient
knowledge and understanding of community engagement by academics, it is
unlikely academia will nimbly adapt. For example, one study found that
graduate students were insufficiently exposed to the various activities faculty
engage in as part of their teaching, research, and service portfolios; this included
public outreach (Austin, 2002a, p. 109). A quantitative study of 9,645 students
across 11 disciplines at 28 institutions found that graduate students were not
trained appropriately for the jobs that they take (researching institutions,
teaching institutions, industry, etc.) post-degree (Golde and Dore, 2001). While
respondents indicated being interested in a variety of academic responsibilities,
their training privileged research and publishing above all else (Golde & Dore,
2001).
The landscape has shifted considerably since 2001. A report looking at
changes in doctoral education from 1990-2015 in the United States found that
while “the doctoral degree remains hermetic and programs often fail to train
students to address wider audiences or to apply their learning to social
challenges” (p. iv), there have been in recent years a number of programs at
various institutions in the Unites States that seek to address this deficit by
encouraging public deliberation and dissemination — which are critical
components of community engagement (Weisbuch and Cassuto, 2016, pp. 38-
41). The Australian Qualifications Framework Council (Office of the Australian
Qualifications Framework, 2013, p. 64) recommends universities embed learning
of specific skills into their doctoral training, including “communication skills to
present cogently a complex investigation of originality or original research for
external examination against international standards and to communicate
62
results to peers and the community.” To what degree this is happening at
universities is unclear. The Review of Australia’s Research Training System: Final
Report (McGagh et al., 2016), suggests that
Broader transferable skills development is a necessary aspect of HDR
training. Although many universities have made significant investments
in this area, transferable skills development is not as strongly embedded
in our research training system as it is in some other comparable
research training systems around the world. (p. 43)
In the Canadian context, Niemczyk (2013) notes that the Social Science and
Humanities Research Council (SSHRC) has, in recent years, shifted funding
priorities for researchers and research trainees (PhD students) to projects that
share and promote research with non-academic sectors, including engaging
communities in research projects. Additional research into graduate training
requirements is needed to ascertain a more holistic understanding of how
engagement is enacted in the PhD training process across countries and within
various disciplines. Reflections on community engagement training and
supports are taken up in Section 5.2.
2.4.2 Institutional Supports for Community Engagement
Being able to locate and rely on specialised supports from university
divisions and units (example provided below) around community engagement
activities and initiatives is often crucial to the success of the engagement(s).
However, Harley et al. (2010) found that there were insufficient institutional
supports, which resulted in academics’ being unable to engage fully with the
community. Participants recommended integrating support for community and
public outreach into digital humanities centres, and encouraging scholars to
engage in social media in place of their own project websites (Harley et al., 2010,
p. 130).
Individuated support — the personal touch — from administration is
also worth noting. In her study of 832 academics and Cooperative Extension staff
(specialists, and non-tenured faculty), Skolaski (2012) found that participants
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“felt most visible by their supervisors, then colleagues, and then community
partners, but felt least visible by their institution” (p. 167). One of Skolaski’s
participants responded: “I would very much like to be recognized and
appreciated by upper administration for the work I accomplish…I do not
necessarily want public recognition, but rather to know that those in higher
administration outside of my office are aware of my work habits, my capabilities,
my knowledge…” (p. 168).
Positioned at the intersection of information behaviour, engaged
scholarship, and scholarly communication, the Knowledge Mobilization Unit at
York University in Canada is uniquely tasked with providing a variety of tools to
meet the information needs of researchers across the university with regard to
community engagement activities (Phipps et al., 2014). While the Knowledge
Mobilization Unit broadens scholarship through engagement with a wider
audience, these types of university support structures are certainly not standard
across institutions. Some of the supports provided include ongoing workshops,
lunch and learn sessions, and assistance with research translation and creating
clear language summaries (Phipps, 2012). Multifaceted community engagement
support units such at this are discussed in Section 5.2.3.
2.4.3 Review, Promotion, and Tenure (RPT)
The academic world consists of established norms and practice, ways of
behaving both inside and outside of the institution, with structural and
conceptual barriers between public and academic spheres. For example, grey
literature1 is not indexed in the same way as peer-reviewed literature. Privileging
of information is institutionalised through RPT processes; for example, grey and
popular literatures may not always count as ‘research’ publications. Since the
nineteenth century, journal publications have been the main measure of
academic success in scientific fields (Ramalho Correia & Teixeira, 2005, p. 350).
Similarly, journal article and scholarly books are indicators of success in HSS. In
1 Research publications produced outside of academia. For example, NGO, civic,
and, governmental reports.
64
spite of increased community engagement focus in many universities, academics
may receive little support in publishing outside of an academic context (Bentley
& Kyvik, 2011) or to translate their research and specialised knowledge for
popular press, public lectures, and media; even when there are media support
units in universities, they tend to be underutilised by academics (Wilkinson &
Weitkamp, 2013) and these units may not see researcher development as part of
their core mandate.
Universities are steeped in historic RPT modes with embedded scholarly
communication standards concerning publishing venues and audiences that
may privilege tradition (i.e., scholarly, high-ranking journals) above community-
relevant strategies (e.g., publishing in trade publications). While academics may
pay attention to public and community engagement, reward for such activities
may be lagging behind. Harley et al. (2010) found that the majority of scholarly
communication activities reported by participants have a corollary to tenure and
promotion with the focus being on academic publishing. In spite of the potential
for positive funding opportunities arising from non-academic dissemination,
there is a lack of strategy applied by universities to assist, train and facilitate
these activities by academics (Wilkinson & Weitkamp, 2013, p. 8).
There are three dimensions required to sustain community engagement
at universities, internal (to the university), external (of the university), and
personal (the attributes of the individual academic) (Clifford and Petrescu,
2012). With personal dimension, it was found that “faculty members who
engage in work in the community usually do it out of an emotional or personal
commitment to help solve a social problem. This affective dimension runs
counter to the usual norms and reward systems of the academy” (Clifford &
Petrescu, 2012, p. 87).
The greatest individual barrier (as opposed to an institutional barrier) to
engagement in knowledge translation between researchers and the community
was that academics’ time was too fragmented; the second greatest barrier was
lack of time and the third significant barrier was a lack of reward/incentives
(Francis-Smythe, 2008, p. 70). Francis-Smythe’s findings underscore the
importance of ensuring academic structures — including through RPT
65
processes — allow researchers the time and flexibility to conduct engagement
activities with community.
A review of attention paid to community engagement at eight
institutions across Canada found that “the language that was uncovered
revealed a rather fractured understanding of core concepts, a tendency to mix
community-based research with voluntarism, and highly uneven application of
standards and expectations across the country” (Barreno et al., 2013, p. 10).
Generally, community engagement was not found to play a significant role in
either the collective agreements or tenure and promotion policies at a majority
of the institutions reviewed. In an evaluation of faculties at 39 Canadian
universities, 49% of include the word “community,” but in reference to the
academic community (professional associations, university committees,
providing references, etc.); there was scant acknowledgement of a value of non-
academic community engagement practices (Randall, 2010). Similarly, RPT
documents at 129 universities in Canada and Australia indicated that while
mentions of community and engagement were frequent, they tended to fall
under activities relating to service, and traditional academic impacts (for
example, publications and grants) were still privileged above all else (Alperin et
al., 2018).
Respondents in the UK (n=40) indicated there was a general lack of
“institutional interest, acknowledgement, incentivization and reward” and that
community engagement activities “had diluted and despoiled their reputation
as researchers; and had caused distancing from research activity where
principal investigators and research managers exploited their PE [community
engagement] status as an opportunity to off-load administrative chores”
(Watermeyer, 2015, p. 334). In this study, there was a considerable variance in
the micro (individual) and macro (institutional) commitment to public
engagement. The individuals place great value on engagement, with a strong
commitment to integrating engagement work into research practice.
Conversely, the institution sends mixed messages, with community
engagement generally (though inconsistently) supported but not rewarded
(Watermeyer, 2015, p. 335). As one study participant said, “there are no examples
66
of best practice in public engagement in terms of promotion. I don’t know
anyone who has gained promotion through their engagement” (Watermeyer,
2015, p. 341).
In an Australian study of academic staff (n=5,525, including full-time,
casual and sessional), respondents were asked what drew them to the profession.
Approximately 60% reported “opportunities for productive community
engagement” (Bexley, James, and Arkoudis, 2011, p. 13). Yet, when asked to
consider career priorities, the top priority (80%) was raising one’s publication
profile. Conducting community engagement related to one’s work, faired
considerably poorer, at less than 40%. As academic work becomes less
autonomous, and with greater expectations around research production and
increased teaching loads, the ability to conduct community engagement
activities decreases in scope (Bexley et al., 2011). One of the ways to improve this
is by providing greater support for ECRs on community engagement (Bexley et
al., 2011).
An analysis of faculty applications and faculty handbooks, plus interviews
with key informants at Carnegie community-engaged campuses (2006, Carnegie
Community Engagement Framework) generated the following
recommendations for community engagement:
• Clearly define the parameters of community-engaged scholarship as a
pre-cursor to creating clear and specific criteria for the kinds of evidence
faculty need to provide to demonstrate community-engaged scholarship;
• Construct policies that reward community engagement across faculty
roles so that research activity will be integrated with teaching and
service as seamlessly connected scholarly activity; and,
• Operationalize the norms of reciprocity in criteria for evaluating
community-engaged scholarship, reconceptualizing what is considered
as a “publication” and who constitutes a “peer” in the peer review
process. (Saltmarsh et al., 2009, p. 34)
These recommendations provide guidance in the ways that scholarly
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communication may need to adapt in order to best meet the communication
requirements of scholars as they engage with the public, but literature suggests
that they are not yet commonplace. Anderson (2014) problematises the
community engagement space and stresses that universities that take it up must
do so not because it looks good on an annual report, but rather because it makes
a genuine difference, noting “in the place of authentic engagement, we continue
to advance academic interests and sensibilities while extracting rather than
adding value to communities” (p. 143). Supports for engaging in community may
be manifested in many ways, from department, faculty, university or
community unit or other organisations. Support may also take the form of
informal, collegial support from others engaged in such activities. The results of
the research have implications for structuring and supporting university units
such as research offices, faculty-based supports, marketing and
communications, libraries, and service units tasked primarily with supporting
community engagement activities.
There are various organisations that have coalesced around engagement
and impact issues in a number of countries. These organisations provide
frameworks and policy guidance for ways that universities can approach
acknowledging and rewarding engagement activities including through the
RPT process. A sampling of such organisations include Research Impact Canada
(RIC)(researchimpact.ca), Community-Based Action Research in Canada
(communityresearchcanada.ca), the National Coordinating Committee for
Public Engagement in the UK (www.nccpe.org), the Living Knowledge Network
in Europe (livingknowledge.org), Campus Engage in Ireland (campusengage.ie),
Knowledge Translation Australia (ktaustralia.com), and Engagement Australia
(engagementaustralia.org.au).
Much of the scholarly work around RPT centres on experiences in the
United States (e.g., Cabrera et al., 2017; Harley et al., 2010; King et al., 2006;
Reinstein, Hasselback, Riley, & Sinason, 2011; Seipel, 2003; Youn & Price, 2009).
There is an emerging body of work in Canada (e.g., Alperin et al., 2018; Barreno
et al., 2013; Schimanski & Alperin, 2018) and Australia (e.g., Smith et al., 2014)
looking at RPT practices in relation to engagement. In a rapidly changing
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higher education environment, ongoing scholarship is needed to ascertain a
robust understanding of current and emerging RPT practices. This research
project contends with issues and perceptions around RPT processes to better
understand the engaged HSS scholars’ experiences, particularly how they
position their research in these processes (see Section 5.1).
2.5 Societal Impact
The term “research impact” is typically associated with academic
measurement factors such as citation counts, journal impact factors (e.g.,
Althouse, West, Bergstrom, & Bergstrom, 2009), h-index scores (e.g., Ferrara &
Romero, 2013), and citation and co-citation analyses (e.g., Zhang, 2009).
Academic impact has been studied in its various forms for decades in
information science (Borgman & Furner, 2002; Wust, 2007). However, little
attention has been paid by information scientists to studying broader “societal
impact” as a concept to be measured – i.e., the impact that scholars have outside
of academia in various communities (e.g., industry, the public, community
groups, government policy). Notable studies include Given, Winkler, and
Willson (2014), who explored the readiness of researchers for Australia’s
Engagement and Impact process, and Given, Kelly, and Willson (2015) which
discussed the roll information science can, or should, play in helping shape the
emerging societal impact narrative. Engagement is a potential pathway to
societal impact and is, hence, considered within the context of this study
There is little question that research has the ability to bring about change
in society and improve conditions in health, culture, and the economy. While,
traditionally, the end point of a research project has been the publications, the
impact agenda encourages academics to consider how their research will be
adopted into practice. This starts with including mechanisms in their research
design that will increase the likelihood of impact as a result of adoption of the
research findings or recommendations. Additionally, academics are increasingly
being asked to report on the impact of their scholarly activities.
Practice-based disciplines (for example, education, nursing, design,
architecture, library and information science [LIS], etc.) may be particularly
69
well-positioned for societal impact. Not only do they have a long history of
conducting research that has been adopted into practice, often the intent of
research in these disciplines is aimed squarely at influencing practice. In the
context of LIS, Mellon (1986) proposed a ‘theory of library anxiety’: students felt
anxious using library services as they felt they had insufficient skills, and fear of
exposing their lack of skills prevented them from seeking assistance and asking
questions. Mellon’s research spurred interested in the topic, resulting in
additional practice-oriented research that led to interventions to reducing
library anxiety (Onwuegbuzie, Jiao, & Bostick, 2004). As a result of this research,
“instruction librarians began openly discussing the affective aspects of library
research in their classes… [and] devoted more conscious effort to presenting
themselves as caring and approachable people who genuinely understood
students’ feelings and wanted to help them” (Bailey, 2008, p. 95). Similar
trajectories can be traced for Bruce's (1995) initial information literacy work,
which has resulted in further research being implemented into practice to
address information literacy skill (for example, Coates, 2016; Donahue, 2015;
Hsieh, Dawson, & Carlin, 2013; Matlin & Lantzy, 2017; Munn & Small, 2017).
Historically, researchers like Mellon and Bruce would not have been accountable
to demonstrate the impact of their research (i.e., the adoption of research in
practice), but societal impact assessments may be poised to change that and
require researchers to track how their work has had an effect on practice.
Increasingly, researchers in universities are being asked by governments
and funding agencies to demonstrate the broader impact of their research
outside of academia (e.g. Geuna & Martin, 2003; Grant, Brutscher, Kirk, Butler,
& Wooding, 2009; Morgan Jones, Castle-Clarke, Manville, Gunashekar, & Grant,
2013; Reale et al., 2017). Assessments of social impact have been incorporated
into funding models and institutional assessments in several countries
including the USA, Norway, and the UK, but they have generally been smaller
in scale (Langfeldt & Scordato, 2015). In 2014, the United Kingdom introduced
case study narratives addressing the societal impact of research as part of their
Research Excellence Framework (REF 2014). The Australian Research Council
(2018a) defines research impact as “the contribution that research makes to the
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economy, society, environment or culture, beyond the contribution to academic
research” (p. 5). The newly introduced EI assessment process is poised to shift
academics’ and institutions’ roles in this space. In Canada, the Social Sciences
and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC, 2015) “Storytellers” series has been
established to highlight and reward societal impact. Additionally, SSHRC
conducts the Impact Awards acknowledging “outstanding researchers and
students by celebrating their achievements in research, research training,
knowledge mobilization and outreach activities funded partially or completely
by SSHRC” and provides additional funding, through the “Connection Program,”
to mobilise research into communities to increase societal impact
(http://www.sshrc-crsh.gc.ca/funding-financement/awards-prix/index-
eng.aspx). The National Science Foundation in the United States requires grant
applicants to detail how their research will have “broad impact” (BI) outside of
academia (https://www.nsf.gov/od/oia/special/broaderimpacts/). These types of
impact assessment requirements are shifting traditional notions of universities’
functions and structures by compelling academics to document how their
research has had (or will have) an impact on communities and organisations.
In an analysis of various policy documents, reviews, and public
documents since the 1990s concerning Australian institutions’ commitment to
community and social benefit in Australia, it was found that while societal
impact — through community-based engagement — is seen as important, the
focus is typically on measuring research income and publications, i.e.
traditional academic inputs and outputs (Carman, 2013). Carman notes a
disconnect between calls for greater research impact and a lack of resources
and supports at institutions to deliver on such priorities.
Similarly, an extensive review of literature pertaining to research impact
found that bibliometrics, h-indexes, and various other metrics do not provide a
robust picture of an academic’s impact, either within or outside of academe
(Smith, Crookes, and Crookes, 2013). Instead Smith et al. recommend adopting
impact statements:
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Existing and newly developed impact analysis frameworks provide a
possible key to the solution. By using the idea of ‘impact statements’
which draw on a number of sources (including bibliometrics) for
evidence of impact, across a range of categories, individuals could be
provided with a tool by which to demonstrate their impact and the
esteem with which they are held in their discipline (both academic and
professional). (p. 417)
The motivation to better measure societal impact, in particular, is related to
research quality and the value of research funding. Khazragui and Hudson (2015)
suggest that “unless we can measure impact, it is difficult to maximize that
impact and also to allocate public money optimally” (p. 59).
In 2018, the ARC launched the Engagement and Impact Assessment (EI
2018) process, resulting in a significant increase in the amount of on-campus
discussion as well as debate across the higher education sector (see, for
example, Chubb & Watermeyer, 2017; Given, Winkler, & Willson, 2014; Gunn &
Mintrom, 2017; Newson, King, Rychetnik, Milat, & Bauman, 2018; Reale et al.,
2017; Toomey, 2018; Zardo, 2017). The EI 2018 assessment is being closely
watched by many academics and higher education administrators globally
(Chubb & Watermeyer, 2017). The Engagement and Impact Assessment
borrows heavily from the 2014 REF (Research Excellence Framework) impact
assessment, which in turn had borrowed from Australia’s 2012 pilot for a similar
process; in fact, the back and forth between the UK and Australia in sharing
approaches to research impact metrics dates back to the early 2000’s (Williams
& Grant, 2018).
For the REF, science case studies often relied on numbers—often
revenue from companies spun out of research—and licensing, with “vague
references to firms and institutions that have benefitted from the research and
generally unquantified health, environment, or other benefits” (Khazragui and
Hudson, 2015, p. 59). As measuring societal impact is so new, there is no long-
term picture of impact (or sustained impact) arising from these initiatives; most
case studies concern research that is, at most, a few years old (Khazragui and
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Hudson, 2015).
Although the UK’s REF exercise applied a case study approach, it was not
grounded in qualitative case study methodology. Given, Winkler, and Willson
(2014) explored integrating qualitative approaches, including methods and
writing style, to measure societal impact. The recommendations contained
within the report, produced for the Australian Government—Department of
Education, were not adopted. The government revisited societal impact when it
launched the National Innovation and Science Agenda (NISA) in 2015
(https://www.arc.gov.au/engagement-and-impact-assessment). Under NISA, a
pilot survey was conducted in 2017 and in 2018 the Engagement and Impact
Assessment was initiated. The results of EI 2018 were released in early 2019.
Better measures of societal impact are needed but it is acknowledged that
measuring societal impact is markedly more difficult than measuring scientific
research impact (Bornmann, 2013). Societal impact is still in its infancy with no
academic venues (i.e., conferences, journals, awards) to recognise and further
foster developments of assessments (Bornmann, 2013, p. 230). Watermeyer
(2014) argues that the impact agenda suffers from putting the cart before the
horse, and suggests that greater “investment is required – hitherto largely
unobserved – in strategic approaches to impact such as impact evaluation,
reconnaissance and causal-mapping” (p. 12). In order for academia to respond
with metrics and appropriate measures, introducing impact assessments is a
vital first step. As Khazragui and Hudson point out, “the REF deserves credit for
focusing attention on impact, and it must be recognized that at this point in
time, a first best methodology is not possible. Both the research councils and
the universities need to begin collecting data which will facilitate improved
analyses in the future” (2015, p. 59).
While societal impact and community engagement are not synonymous,
there is opportunity for community engagement activities to produce societal
impact. Without additional research, the nexus between community
engagement activities and societal impact remains unclear. This research begins
to address that gap by extracting knowledge and practices that inform the ways
in which community-engaged academics prepare for the implementation of
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societal impact assessments (see Chapter 5:).
2.6 Conclusion to Chapter 2
A wide net has been cast in this review of literature, drawing on a range of
sources from various disciplines, in order to establish a broad understanding of
the factors that affect the community engagement activities of academics and
the literature that has explored pathways engaged academics take into
community. The approach is appropriate given the nature of the scholarship of
engagement operates both within and across disciplines. The context of the
engaged scholar was provided first, a history of traditional scholarly roles was
explored (scholarly communications) and then the notions of community
engagement in various contexts (disciplines, locations) were discussed. From
broad context to the more contextually specific, the role of the university and
how community engagement is, or is not, resourced was reviewed. Finally, the
concept of societal impact was explored.
From this review of community engagement and related literature, several
gaps have been identified. These include how HSS scholars enact community
engagement in their contexts and how such engagements contribute to their
academic identity, the individual voices of HSS scholars using qualitative
approaches, the scarcity of information science research (including scholarly
communications and information behaviour) concerning community
engagement, and, given the newness of societal impact, the limited scholarship
in this area.
The emergent nature of the scholarship of engagement and dearth of
academic study concerning HSS scholars and their information behaviours
requires an inductive theory in order to begin to address this deficit. As this
research is seeking understanding, a qualitative approach, drawing on
constructive grounded theory, is warranted. This will be the focus of Chapter 3.
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Chapter 3: Research Design
The aim of this research is to construct an understanding of what it
means to participate in community engagement activities as an HSS scholar
and the pathways scholars navigate both as individuals and within the system
(institution) in order to do so. The findings are a contribution to the
scholarship of engagement within the study of higher education, and to
information behaviour within information science.
Much of the research conducted to date (as explored in Chapter 2) has
been either quantitative in nature or concerned with institutional positioning
of engagement. There is a shortage of research overall focusing on how
academics currently occupy and contribute to community engagement spaces,
with those academics undertaking these endeavours in Canada and Australia
receiving minimal attention (Randall, 2010; A. Winter et al., 2006). Where
research does exist, the focus tends to be on the sciences, with little attention
paid to the social sciences and/or humanities. This research focuses on HSS
academics rather than institutions. Using a qualitative approach allows the
individual voices of academics to be represented in the research.
Data were drawn from semi-structured interviews with community-
engaged HSS scholars (10 in Canada, 10 in Australia) and key informants, i.e.,
those who support engagement initiatives on campuses (3 in Canada, 3 in
Australia). After receiving ethics approval (January, 2016), interviews were
conducted during the 2016 calendar year, then transcribed by the researcher
and analysed using grounded theoretical analysis (details in Section 3.3.3). This
research was designed to address the questions in Table 3.1.
Table 3.1
1. How do academics who participate in community engagement activities conceive of their responsibility to the public? a. How do academics balance community engagement activities with their
teaching, research, and service requirements? b. How have they come to understand their role as academics with regards
to the broader community? 2. What supports are required in order to do community engagement
work?
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a. What are the information activities related to community engagement work?
b. What role does the institution play in supporting or hindering community engagement work?
3. How might academics who engage in community engagement activities inform academics who are not engaging in such activities? a. What implications might there be for measuring societal impact,
including through formalised assessment frameworks? 4. What are the information behaviours (e.g., information needs,
seeking, use) of academics who participate in community engagement activities?
3.1 Organisation of the Chapter
The scholarship of engagement is interdisciplinary by nature so it is
anticipated that readers will come from a variety of backgrounds. Therefore,
attention has been given to explaining concepts that, while potentially familiar
to information science (and other social science) readers, may be new to others.
The chapter begins with the foundational concepts and works toward the
concrete, much the same way that this research project was approached:
x The research is considered in the context of foundational notions such
as epistemology and methodological framework, in relation to their fit
with the research questions.
x Methods that are compatible with the methodology are presented
— primarily qualitative semi-structured interviews and the approach to
sampling.
x Details of how data were gathered and analysed are provided.
x Notions of how data quality and rigour were maintained are explored.
x An introduction to qualitative writing and the rationale for the
presentation of data in Chapters 4 through 6 is provided.
x Limitations of the study are discussed.
3.2 Methodology
As the research topic is exploratory in nature, it was important that an
appropriate qualitative methodology be used in order to construct meaning and
understanding from the participants’ voices and experiences. The following
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section situates the research in an epistemological framework, followed by a
discussion of the methodology and methods that were used in the research.
3.2.1 Epistemology
The research is centred on a social constructionist epistemological
framework. Constructionism is well suited to qualitative research as “the
realities we study are social products of the actors, of interactions, and
institutions” (Flick, 2014, p. 76). Constructionism views dialogue and discourse
as being vital to the way that individuals construct meaning, identity, and come
to understand their worlds (Case, 2012, p. 190). The research elicits the voices of
community-engaged academics in universities and from a variety of disciplines
and locations to uncover how they have constructed meaning in their context.
It is worth noting, briefly, the difference between constructivism and
constructionism. Tuominen, Talja, and Savolainen (2002) argue that
constructivism
Sees individuals as the true originators of knowledge and meaning.
Individuals’ cognitive structures are influenced by language, history, and
social and cultural factors such as domain and cultural environment but,
essentially, the creation of knowledge and interpretations is assumed to
take place in individual minds. (p. 276).
Constructionism, on the other hand, suggests that knowledge and meaning are
highly contextual:
The information user makes the same pieces of knowledge or document
mean different things depending on what kind of social action he or she
is performing with the help of language in a specific interactional and
conversational context. (Tuominen et al., 2002, p. 277).
Constructivism is monologic and constructionism is dialogic (Tuominen et al.,
2002). In the former, meaning making occurs in the mind of the subject
whereas, in the latter, meaning is produced as a result of social practices and
discourse between subjects. Constructionism encompasses the view that “all
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knowledge, and therefore all meaningful reality as such, is contingent upon
human practices, being constructed in and out of interaction between human
beings and their world, and developed and transmitted within an essentially
social context” (Crotty, 1998, p. 42). In contrast with an epistemology such as
objectivism, constructionism does not view meaning as fixed, but rather an
ongoing iterative process of interpreting and re-interpreting (Crotty, 1998).
Put simply, there is no one truth. As the language of community
engagement and societal impact are still being constructed and cemented
(Doberneck et al., 2010), constructionism’s focus on language use and
constructed meaning fits appropriately within the research design.
3.2.2 Methodological Framework: Constructivist Grounded Theory
The concern with social processes, language and how meaning is
constructed, make social constructionism particularly well suited to qualitative
research (Gergen & Gergen, 2008) and this project in particular. The overarching
methodological framework for this research is informed by grounded theory.
This approach aims to better understand a phenomenon (via various methods)
while simultaneously working to generate theory through inductive analysis
(Charmaz & Bryant, 2008). The method(s) and content of the research (for
example, the research questions) progresses with the research rather than being
part of a fixed research design (Charmaz, 2014). In the context of this study, that
meant that the scope of research questions and topics addressed in the
interviews evolved throughout the interview process in response to
contributions of participants.
‘Constructivist’ in grounded theory is not to be confused with
epistemological understandings of “constructivist;” indeed, constructivist
grounded theory “has fundamental epistemological roots in sociological social
constructionism” (Charmaz, 2008, p. 409). Andrews (2012) posits, “the terms
constructivism and social constructionism tend to be used interchangeably and
subsumed under the generic term ‘constructivism’ particularly by Charmaz”
(para. 2). Epistemological assumptions (constructionism) and methodological
ones (constructivist grounded theory) in the research are concomitant.
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In contrast with many other theoretical approaches, grounded theory
applies to the entirety of the research process: design, application, and analysis
(Charmaz, 2008). Grounded theory is inductive in nature. While other theories
guide the research (as is explored in the following section), testing or proving a
specific theory is not the intent. Rather, new theory is generated from the data
gathered. This theory development occurs at multiple stages of the research
process including coding data, writing memos, and writing up findings
(Charmaz, 2008). Theory developed from a grounded theory process can be
quite varied, and may include models, frameworks, and schemas (Timonen,
Foley, & Conlon, 2018).
All GT work should start with aspirations to theory-building, but
researchers should bear in mind that the practicalities of research…
could stymie their efforts at producing theory… We contend that
significant progress toward constructing categories, and spelling out
links between them, with the view to achieving conceptual clarity, is a
sufficient (if not necessarily the ideal) outcome for a GT study.
(Timonen, Foley, & Conlon, 2018, p. 4)
An all-encompassing theory is often not possible — nor should it be the goal —
given the study’s scope and other constraints (time and financing), as is often
the case with doctoral dissertations (Wu & Beaunae, 2014). Rather, providing
increased coherence of the research topic through a theory (taking the form of
a model, framework, or schema) should be the goal. The data and analysis
grounding the ‘HSS Scholars Pathways to Community’ model is discussed
throughout chapters 4 through 6, and presented in the concluding chapter, in
Section 7.4.
Grounded theory was originated by Glaser and Strauss in their 1967 book
The Discovery of Grounded Theory (Charmaz & Bryant, 2008, p. 374). It has since
been modified, adapted, re-envisioned, and adopted in various fields. This
research takes a constructivist grounded theory approach based on the work of
Charmaz and Bryant. Constructivist grounded theory was articulated by Bryant
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(2002, 2003) and Charmaz (2000, 2005, 2006) separately and then collectively
beginning in 2007 (Charmaz & Bryant, 2008, p. 376).
Charmaz highlights the key difference in their constructivist grounded
theory versus Glaser and Strauss’ approach, indicating that the originators of the
approach “did not attend to how they affected the research process, produced
the data, represented research participants, and positioned their analyses.
Glaser’s and Strauss’ approach to research was positivist and reports emphasized
generality, not relativity, and objectivity, not reflexivity” (Charmaz, 2008, p.
399). In contrast, Charmaz and Bryant propose a relativistic stance which
includes: a) the social conditions of the research situation; b) the researcher's
perspectives, positions, and practices; c) the researcher's participation in the
construction of data; and, d) the social construction of research acts, as well as
participants’ worlds (Charmaz & Bryant, 2008, p. 376). The role that the
researcher plays in the research process is seen as vital within a constructivist
grounded theory approach.
In the context of this research, the researcher had to interrogate their
own understandings of community engagement and philosophical beliefs about
its role in higher education. For example, with a background in educational
policy and having previously undertaken research with a queer theoretical frame
— where social justice and change are intended consequences of the research —
the researcher needed to be conscious of their disciplinary biases and how that
might shape how participants were sampled and how their contributions could
be influenced through the interview process. Another consideration was the
researcher’s long relationship with Nerd Nite, which saw them working with
academics for many years to produce meaningful public engagements. Such
activities and interactions colour the types of activities the researcher might
expect academics to be performing. The lived experience of the researcher
influences their perspectives on the importance and utility of community
engagement. By critically self-reflecting on ones positioning, the intent is to
reduce researcher influence on the participants. This dialogic process continued
throughout the research process through discussions with supervisors and
colleagues, memo writing, data collection, and data analysis.
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By adopting a constructivist grounded theory framework ,meaning is co-
created with participants through the research process, thus decreasing the
power differential often found in more traditional research methodologies
(Creswell, 2012). As is discussed later in the chapter, semi-structured interviews
were used to co-create meaning with participants. For example, discussions
about social impact were fruitful because of participants’ broad worldview of
academia, even if they had minimal direct knowledge about research impact
assessment (discussed in Section 6.1). As Mills, Bonner, and Francis (2006, p. 9)
note
During the process of narrative interaction, the researcher and
participant give and take from each other, the complexity of the area of
interest being explored becomes apparent, and in turn gains density as
the conversation about meaning ensues.
The research process differs from more traditional methodologies as it is non-
linear in approach. While there is a general structure and linearity (i.e.,
research questions come before data collection) that structure is not fixed; the
researcher periodically revisits (and, potentially, revises) all parts of the
research process (Charmaz, 2014, p. 18). Data are simultaneously collected and
analysed, allowing the research project to be nimble and respond to
contributions from participants dynamically (Charmaz & Bryant, 2008, p. 375).
The approach to analysis, and how it was an ongoing process throughout the
research is discussed in greater detail later in this chapter.
Grounded theorists “pursue developing a category rather than covering a
specific empirical topic” (Charmaz, 2014, p. 15); in the context of this research,
this is particularly germane. The intent of this research was to better understand
a small portion of the community engagement space from the perspective of the
academics involved. Therefore, grounded theory was a functional, flexible, and
well-resourced methodology for this research. Flick (2014) suggested that a
limitation of grounded theory is a blur between method and art, but suggests
that “often, the extent of the advantages and strengths of a method only become
clear in applying it” (p. 417). It is through the application of the grounded theory
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principles that the strengths of the research have been realised. Importantly,
applying a grounded theory approach encourages the researcher to address not
only why questions, but also what and how questions (Charmaz, 2008), all of
which are seen as important within this scope of the research. As presented in
Chapter 2, scholarship concerning the community engagement activities of HSS
academics is minimal. Grounded theory, as discussed above, provides the
flexibility to formulate and conduct a study that can begin to capture and
reflect the activities contained within the HSS engagement space.
3.2.3 Supporting Theories
Comparing the results with established theories can help verify the
generated theory (Stern, 2008). Thornberg (2012) suggests using an informed
approached to grounded theory, where the “process and the product have been
thoroughly grounded in data by GT methods while being informed by existing
research literature and theoretical frameworks” (p. 249). Theories that helped
inform the research (including research design and analysis) include Franz’s
engaged scholarship model (as discussed in Chapter 2), social positioning
theory, job characteristics theory, and social identity theory, which are
reviewed in the section that follows. Additional guiding theories that inform
the final research design and analysis include everyday life information seeking
(Savolainen, 2008) and information acquiring-and-sharing (Rioux, 2004).
3.2.3.1 Social Positioning Theory
Social positioning theory “examines the influences of contextual
discursive practises on individuals’ lives” (Given, 2005, p. 334). The theory
enables researchers to examine concepts of identity and identity construction,
where identity is viewed as “relative, socially constructed, contextual, and highly
individual” (Given, 2005, p. 334). It suggests that individuals come to understand
their own lives and identities as a result of the social interactions they engage in;
these discursive practices are “the stories through which we make sense of our
own and others' lives” (Davies & Harré, 1990, p. 46). Social positioning is
contained within a post-structural frame which suggests that identity is not
static. Rather, it is negotiated and renegotiated over one’s life span. The theory is
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concerned with both the individual and their discursive practices (Given, 2002,
p. 131). Social positioning expands on role theory (Monaghan, 1989) by
permitting a multiplicity of self, acknowledging that there may be conflict
between the roles an individual occupies, and examining that interplay (Given,
2005, p. 334).
Positioning often takes place via dialogue and, thus, conversations are
often the units of analysis (Davies & Harré, 1990, p. 45). Social positioning
theory relies on various categories of positioning (e.g. first order positioning,
second order positioning, performative positioning, moral positioning, etc.) and
modes of application (e.g. deliberate self-positioning, forced self-positioning,
etc.), which create a “framework to expose the effects of stereotypical
presumptions on information encounters” (Given, 2005, p. 336-337). This theory
fits with the framework of social constructionism, wherein meaning is generated
through social discourse.
This theory is important for this study as it relates to how academics
position themselves — and think others position them — with regard to
community engagement activities. As such, it is useful in identifying the services
and supports required for academics to engage in work in this space.
3.2.3.2 Job Characteristics Theory
Hackman and Oldham proposed job characteristics theory in 1976 and it
has since been widely adopted, particularly within the field of organisational
behaviour. It is useful in helping conceptualise the motivations of community-
engaged academics in their work contexts. The theory couples various job
characteristics (skill variety, task identity, task significance, autonomy, and
feedback from job) with elements of motivation (meaningfulness of work,
responsibility for the outcomes of work, and knowledge of results of work), to
predict worker motivation (Hackman & Oldham, 1976). Job characteristics
theory was a departure from previous models as it suggested that “rather than
being motivated by, say, the promise of rewards or the prospect of receiving (or
avoiding) supervisory attention, people would try to perform well simply
because it felt good when they did—and it felt bad when they did not” (Oldham
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& Hackman, 2010, p. 3).
While job characteristics theory focuses on internal work motivation
rather than external reward; but, as Oldham and Hackman (2010) lament, the
theory neglects to consider the social dimension, which is a large part of a
person’s work life. Despite the theory’s shortcomings, Janke and Colbeck (2008)
suggest that it is a “useful lens to explore how the organizational structure, and
specifically work tasks that may be an inherent part of public scholarship
activities may influence faculty members’ perceptions of their academic work.”
(p. 37).
In the context of this research, job characteristics theory is useful in
considering the factors which motivate academics, particularly with regard to
community engagement activities, which are often not recognised or rewarded.
It was useful in drafting the original pilot interview guide (7.7Appendix A: and
considering questions, for example, “what motivated you to participate in
community engagement?”).
3.2.3.3 Social Identity Theory
Tajfel and Turner’s (1986) social identity theory is “a social psychological
analysis of the role of self-conception in group membership, groups processes,
and intergroup relations” (Hogg, 2006, p. 111). Since its inception, it has been
critiqued, refined, and applied, to become one of mainstream psychology’s
guiding theories on the relationship of self and group (Haslam, van
Knippenberg, Platow, & Ellemers, 2014). Janke and Colbeck (2008) suggest that
social identity theory may offer valuable insights into how community-engaged
academics relate to each other, their institutions, and community stakeholders.
Social identity theory in the context of this research provides an
understanding of how academics construct their identities in relation to various
groups and subgroups, and the standards and norms that exist and are
exhibited within each. It was useful in conceptualising how academics work to
build relationships with various communities and how those relationships
facilitate maintaining, building, or reconceptualising their academic identities.
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3.3 Method, Interviews
Qualitative research is epistemologically congruent with constructionism
and is commonly employed in information science studies. As this research
space is very much uncharted (see Chapter 2), constructivist grounded theory
(Charmaz, 2014) provides an appropriate set of tools to adjust the research
dynamically to respond to the contributions of participants. Qualitative research
allows for the individual contributions of participants to be heard, giving them a
voice in the research (Flick, 2014, p. 16). Interviews with participants provide rich
data in the form of participant voice.
Intensive interviews are a “gently-guided, one-sided conversation” that
allow the participant the space to explore experiences and perspectives
(Charmaz, 2014, p. 56). Rather than short, closed questions, interviews consist of
open-ended questions where the informant is encouraged to reflect on their
understandings, perceptions, and experiences while being guided by the
researchers with follow-up questions (Cook, 2008, p. 423). Interviews adopting
this approach are often called semi-structured. They are widely employed in
qualitative research (Ayres, 2008, p. 810) and appropriate where participants
have multiple and complicated perspectives concerning a similar phenomenon
(Cook, 2008).
Interviews can produce rich data, but quality of the data rests on the
interviewer’s ability to conduct a high-quality interview. Much rests on the
interviewer’s ability to “understand, interpret, and respond to the verbal and
nonverbal information provided by the informant” (Ayres, 2008, p. 811) and the
interviewer must be careful not to force responses (Charmaz, 2014, p. 69). In
order to reduce the power differential between the informant and interviewer,
the interview is approached with more collegiality; for example, the interviewer
may reveal more of oneself in the course of the interview than would be the case
during a structured interview (Johnson, 2001, p. 105). Charmaz (2014) posits that
intensive interviewing (which may utilise a semi-structured approach) has the
following attributes: it provides for flexibility in the direction that the interview
goes; creates space for issues and ideas to arise as a result of dialogue; it permits
the interviewer the ability to immediately clarify and follow-up regarding areas
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of question and concern; and, it enables the co-construction of meaning and
understanding, which is particularly germane within a constructionist
epistemology (pp. 58-59). Highly structured interviews would typically not be
appropriate within constructivist grounded theory methodology (Charmaz &
Bryant, 2008).
Semi-structured interviews were used in this research, as they provided
both the structure to elucidate commonality between informants and the
flexibility to uncover new directions and understandings. Other methods, such
as surveys or focus groups, were deemed inappropriate for eliciting the rich data
and personal narratives congruent with both the epistemological approach and
research questions. Semi-structured interviews permit the construction of
meaning through discourse between the participant and the researcher, whereas
a survey would not provide such data. Similarly, using focus groups was
dismissed as the research design required individuated experiences rather than
collective ones. There is no set of closed questions asked of all participants.
Instead, an interview schedule was developed to guide the conversation (see
Appendix A). The initial, sample questions outlined in Appendix A were
developed at the point that ethics review was sought; these questions are
strongly linked to the research questions and demonstrate the range of topics
explored in the course of the interviews. They are therefore not an exhaustive list
of questions covered in the interviews. For example, as interviews progressed, it
became clear that interviewees had very different experiences of the tenure and
promotion process, so more time was spent on that topic in subsequent
interviews. In the pilot phase of the research, the researcher tested their
interview skills, refined the topics addressed in the interview, assessed
appropriate interview length, and revisited the research questions — all of
which are consistent with a grounded theory approach (Charmaz, 2014). The
first three participant interviews and two key informant interviews served as a
pilot phase. Throughout the data collection process questions and scope were
refined inductively and incorporated into the project.
Interviews were conducted during the 2016 calendar year, following ethics
approval, to gather data on the experiences of academics involved in community
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engagement activities. Interviews, ranging between 45-90 minutes, took place in
mutually agreed on, quiet and private locations, preferably a space “owned” by
the participant, such as an office. As intimacy and comfort are better accounted
for in in-person interviews (Charmaz, 2014, pp. 71-75) every effort was made to
generate a safe and collegial space regardless of interview location (be it a café,
empty lecture hall, or office). Interviews were recorded and transcribed (filler
words such as um, were not included in the transcription).
The reflections from participants are based on what they envisioned
societal impact assessments might look like based on their understanding of
the REF and other pilots that have been conducted (such as one in Australia in
2012). A brief overview was provided in the interview if participants were
unfamiliar with the notion of societal impact. To that end, a copy of the
consultation paper for the 2017 Engagement and Impact pilot was brought to
interviews and the definition of impact contained with it would be read, which
is: “research impact is the demonstrable contribution that research makes to
the economy, society, culture, national security, public policy or services,
health, the environment, or quality of life, beyond contributions to academia ”
(Australian Government, Australian Research Council, National Innovation &
Science Agenda, 2015). The definition served to provide a baseline
understanding of impact for both Australian and Canadian participants. In a
few cases, the notion of societal impact came up organically in conversation,
but in most cases it would bring it up near the end of the hour-long interview;
where a brief overview of the way that impact has been interpreted by
organisations such as the ARC in Australia or the REF in the UK would be
furnished and the working definition from the consultation paper would be
provided.
3.3.1 Documents
This research examined documents identified by participants and key
informants relating to community engagement activities at their institution (e.g.
promotion and tenure policy guidelines, public-university strategy, etc.) when
they were publicly available on institutional sites. Prior to the interview,
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participants were asked to source documents potentially relevant to the research
and bring them (or email them in advance) to the interview. Importantly,
participants were not asked to produce unique documents (elicited documents);
rather, the solicited documents were pre-existing (extant documents) and not a
product of the research (Charmaz, 2014, p. 48). However, most participants did
not bring documents to the interview. Of those provided, the vast majority were
promotional materials from the university, faculty, or a specific project with
only passing mentions of community engagement (or related concepts). Other
documents related to awards for engagement, strategic plans for building
engagement capacity, research plans, university strategic plans, and RPT
guidelines. However, such documents were not universally available as most
participant universities had locked their documents behind firewalls and were
available only to internal audiences. Available documents were therefore used
to provide additional detail to into a participant’s context during the interview
analysis stage. Due to the lack of publicly accessible documents (particularly
those relating to RPT processes) it was difficult to compare participants’
universities; this is an important area for future research, as discussed in Chapter
5. Most of the documents examined included references to community
engagement but failed to expound on either what they meant by community
engagement or how it was (or was intended to be) supported. Whether such
documents do exist but are not publicly available, or whether universities have
not crafted such documents, would be a useful area for future investigation. It is
worth noting that of the documents that were available and reviewed, there was
a considerable lack in consistency across universities both in the types of
materials produced and the types that were publicly available.
3.3.2 Sampling
Morse (2010) suggests that in order to get “excellent data” when using
grounded theory, “excellent participants” are needed, i.e., those who have “been
through, or observed, the experience under investigation” (p. 231). Purposive
sampling enables a “series of strategic choices about with whom, where, and
how one does one’s research” (Palys, 2008, p. 697). There is no one best type of
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sampling; rather, the appropriate sampling method is tied to the context and
objectives of the research (Palys, 2008, p. 697). A specific type of purposive
sampling is maximum variation sampling, wherein “individuals who cover the
spectrum of positions and perspectives in relation to the phenomenon one is
studying” (Palys, 2008, p. 697).
Maximum variation purposive sampling is consistent with the research
objectives and epistemological stance and ensured that there was variation and
appropriate representation across genders, disciplines, ages, backgrounds, and
other various demographic considerations (Flick, 2014, p. 175). Key informants
were identified purposively in addition to snowball or chain sampling. Snowball
sampling — “the name reflects an analogy to a snowball increasing in size as it
rolls downhill.” (Morgan, 2008b, p. 816) — begins with a small pool of initial
informants who, in turn, recommend other participants who meet eligibility
criteria for a study. In this research, community-engaged scholars were in many
cases able to provide recommendations of other potential research participants.
Information on the sample (i.e., the participants) used in this study are
provided in Section 3.5.
3.3.3 Interview Analysis
When applying constructivist grounded theory, data are analysed
continuously throughout the research process, including during data collection
and after data collection has been completed. Data collection started in early
2016 and was completed mid-year. Throughout the collection process, data were
being analysed and continued to be analysed until the final write-up in 2019
Charmaz (2014) describes the process of grounded theory as including the
following steps, to:
(a) conduct data collection and analysis simultaneously in an interactive
process;
(b) analyse actions and processes rather than themes and structures;
(c) use comparative methods;
(d) draw on data in the service of developing new conceptual categories;
(e) develop inductive abstract analytic categories through systematic
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data analysis;
(f) emphasise theory construction rather than description or application
of current theories;
(g) search for variation in the studied categories or process; and,
(h) pursue developing a category rather than covering a specific
empirical topic (p. 15).
Analysis began with coding, which was done in two phases: initial and
focused coding (see Appendix F for example). Initial coding was done
throughout data collection — shaping how subsequent data were collected —
and continued once all data were collected (Charmaz, 2014, p. 109). For example,
early initial coding through memo writing (see details on memo writing below)
identified that participants focused a great deal on their experiences of
frustration when going through RPT processes. As a result, the researcher
ensured that in subsequent interviews, sufficient time was allotted to that topic.
Charmaz (2014) suggests that during initial coding, codes are created with a
focus on actions rather than categories, and encourages researchers to ask
questions such as “what do the data suggest? Pronounce? Leave unsaid?” and
“from whose point of view” (Charmaz, 2014, p. 116). For example, during initial
coding of transcripts, it was seen that participants’ often felt unsupported by the
institution, so the code “feeling unsupported by the institution” was applied (see
Appendix F). Focused coding was then conducted, which “requires decisions
about which initial codes make the most analytic sense to categorise your data
incisively and completely” (Charmaz, 2014, p. 138). In this example, data coded
as “feeling unsupported by the institution” during initial coding were then
focus-coded with codes like “finding inconsistency between school and
university expectations,” “experiencing a dearth of support services,” “choosing
to go it alone,” and “feeling that engagement is relegated to personal/volunteer
time.” Data were sorted into theoretical categories (e.g., “individual autonomy,”
“time required,” “institutional responses,” “university strategies,” etc.) during
focused coding which, in turn, formed the themes presented in Chapters 4 to 6.
A sample coding tree of this process is presented in Appendix F.
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Memo writing is considered a crucial technique in grounded theory as
researchers are encouraged to analyse data and codes early in the research and
throughout (Charmaz, 2014, p. 162). Memo writing encourages the researcher to
look beyond codes and categories and play with meaning and understanding;
the act of memo writing helps researchers learn their data (Charmaz, 2014, p
165). Memos are not intended to take the form of traditional business memos;
rather, they can take the shape of whatever suits the researcher in order to
explore the data. They may be “free and flowing; they may be short and stilted”
(Charmaz, 2014, p 165) but the important element is that thoughts be formed (or
transformed) on paper. Memos were generated throughout the research process
by the researcher and informed the direction of the research, interviews,
research questions, and analysis.
3.4 Ethics
Ethical considerations for any research project are vital to the scholarly
process. Preissle (2008) suggests that “honesty, openness, and candid revelation
of a study’s strengths and limitations according to commonly held standards of
practice are typical indicators of the integrity of the scholarship” (p. 276). The
National Statement on Ethical Conduct in Human Research (National Health
and Medical Research Council, 2007) indicates that two considerations are
foundational to protecting participants with regards to research with human
participants: “first, research participants may enter into a relationship with
researchers whom they may not know but need to trust… Secondly, many who
contribute as participants in human research do so altruistically, for the
common good, without thought of recompense for their time and effort” (p. 3).
Building and maintaining trust with research participants is a cornerstone of
ethical research practice. Conducting research that is judged to have merit with
potential benefit to the individual(s) or the wider community is consistent with
altruistic participation. The ethical standards and protocols of the research
conform to The National Statement on Ethical Conduct in Human Research,
taking into account the merit (based on the study design and anticipated
outcomes), justice (that the research process is clear and fair, and that the
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outcomes be made available to participants), beneficence (resulting in good
and minimising participant risk), and respect (respect for participants, their
contributions, the how they are represented [e.g. opting to adopt a pseudonym
or not]) of the study.
The research carried minimal risk in asking academic staff to reflect on
their experiences related to community engagement activities, given that these
experiences are part of their daily work lives. Interview-based research carries
an associated potential to produce harm or benefits for participants (Kvale,
2008). There was some potential for harm — though minimal — as participants
were asked to provide reflections on their institutions, superiors, government
policy, colleagues, and/or the community(s) with which they work; reflections
that were, in many cases, critical of their experiences. In order to account for
such harm, every effort was made to protect the confidentiality and privacy of
participants throughout the research process, at their discretion (as discussed
later in this section). Participants may have benefited from the interview
process as it created space to elucidate new knowledge, understanding, and
provide reflective insights into their position, activities and identity (Gubrium
& Holstein, 2001).
Participant contributions have been anonymised and will continue to be
in any forthcoming publications and presentations; all participants have been
assigned pseudonyms to protect their identities and no institutional affiliations
are provided. Open communication with participants regarding their concerns
and desires, as part of the informed consent process, were designed to mitigate
risks.
Interviews were recorded, digitally, and stored on a password-protected
computer. Audio files were backed up to securely-stored external hard drives
which are also be password protected and accessible only by the principal
investigator. Participant comfort throughout the research process was a priority
(Charmaz, 2014, p, 59). As interviews were recorded, participants were briefed
during the informed consent process, and in the information letter provided to
them, about the storage and confidentiality measures in place (see Appendix :).
Participants were informed how their data (interviews and provided
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documents) would be used; contributions were analysed and utilised in the form
of non-identifiable quotations in the course of this thesis and will continue to be
in pursuant publications and presentations. No incentives were provided for
participation in the research.
Data collection was conducted while attending Charles Sturt University.
Human research ethics approval was approved from the Charles Sturt University
Education Faculty Human Ethics Committee in January 2016. (See Appendix B-E
for information letter, recruitment information, consent form, and ethics
approval).
3.5 Overview of Study Participants
The study included 2o academics, 1o from each of Australia and Canada, in
the humanities and social sciences fields, who were involved in conducting
community engagement activities. A sample of this size enables appropriate
saturation of themes during analysis (Saumure & Given, 2008, p. 196). Interviews
were also conducted with six key informants (three from each country, such as
administrators, research office employees, and support staff. Having participants
in two countries contributed to a broad understanding of national differences,
with the entire participant group being able to address the research questions
more globally. As Canada does not have a formal national research assessment
process to track research activities in universities (as is the case in Australia),
these findings highlight unique contextual perspectives within the engagement
and/or impact space in the two countries. The research questions explore highly
contextual and in-depth understandings of community engagement; as such,
the sample size was consistent with the research goals (Morgan, 2008a, p. 798).
3.5.1 Academic Participant Inclusion Criteria and Sampling
Participants in this study included academic HSS staff at various career
stages who occupied (at the time of the interview or in the recent past) a role
that included teaching, research, and service responsibilities. The focus of the
study is on their experiences and perspectives of sharing specialised knowledge
and research with community. Academic participants were identified
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purposively in addition to snowball or chain sampling (Bryant & Charmaz, 2010,
p. 235). Participants represented a range of engagement activities and were
identified through a variety of means. Institutional websites often detailed a
variety of academic staff activities, including those with community, and
provided a useful starting point for identifying a range of community-engaged
academics. However, because many activities are not published on institutional
websites, other sources were required. Many community-engaged academics
have an online presence through social media, thus social media searchers (e.g.,
searching “CBR” [community-based research] via Twitter) and subsequent
Twitter responses and recommendations became another source of participants.
Nerd Nite is community engagement event in conducted in bars around the
world, including six locations in Canada and three locations in Australia. The
researcher is a member of the Nerd Nite network and used this connection to
identify potential participants. Using snowball or chain sampling, participant
recommendations based on the criteria for inclusion was another source of
participants.
3.5.2 Key Informant Participants: Inclusion Criteria and Sampling
In order to triangulate data, additional participant key informants were
sought through the same purposive and snowball sampling strategies as for
academic participants. Triangulation permits the researcher to “identify, explore,
and understand different dimensions of the units of study, thereby
strengthening their findings and enriching their interpretations” (Rothbauer,
2008). To that end, key informant interviews were conducted with various
university administration and support. Interviews with key informants provided
insight into the engagement space at institutions on topics such as policy,
expectations, and supports, in consort with participant data.
3.5.3 Participants Details
The 20 participants (10 each in Canada and Australia) and six key
informants (three each in Canada and Australia) represented a range of career
progression stages from ECR to senior academics. Participant information,
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including demographic details, were provided during the course of the
interview — descriptions (see Appendix G:) are based on that interaction.
More women self-identified for participation in this study than men; it is
unclear whether this is indicative of community engagement across the sector
(i.e., if there are more women doing engagement than man) as no literature
could be identified providing such statistics. Though anecdotal in nature, it is
intriguing that more women came forward, which could be classified as a
service activity, for participation in this study. To achieve maximum variation
sampling, additional male participants were sought.
The participants reflect a small portion of the variety of positions that
exist in HSS and, while not exhaustive, provide a range of experiences from
different locations — geographically, by discipline, and in career. In the
Canadian system, individuals typically progress from Assistant Professor to
Associate Professor and, finally, to Professor. The tenure process that exists in
Canada does not exist in Australia, so it is difficult to make across the board
comparisons. In Australia, the general progression is Lecturer, Senior Lecturer,
Associate Professor, and Professor. The role of Professor in the Australian
context is often analogous to a research-only position in Canada (such as an
individual who holds a Canada Research Chair); however, there is little
consistency in the definition of Professor as some are encouraged (and
expected) to teach, while others hold administrative roles and do no teaching
or research. The types of positions, career progression, and how these relate to
community engagement, are woven into the analysis presented here.
Participant contributions provide a range of experiences that illustrate a
breadth of experiences in the community engagement space through a variety
of contexts across two countries.
The following tables provide a brief overview of the study participants’
ages, disciplines and locations. Detailed descriptions of the participants’
backgrounds are provided in AppendixG:G.
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Table 3.2 lists the academic participants and Table 3.3 provides key
informant details. Detailed descriptions of the participants’ backgrounds are
provided in AppendixG:G.
Table 3.2: Academic Participants
Academic Participants
Pseudonym Position2 Discipline
Australia Annabelle (age not disclosed)
Lecturer Development Studies
Dale (66) Senior Lecturer English Emily (34) Senior Lecturer Information Science
Gloria (51) Professor Media and Communications
Irvin (49) Professor Philosophy Joy (33) Lecturer Media and Communications
Lillian (47) Lecturer Media and Communications
Sarah (52) Senior Lecturer Education
Traci (39) Senior Lecturer Sociology Wilbur (59) Associate Professor Media and Communications
Canada Abdul (38) Assistant Professor Business/Economics Camille (66) Professor Education
Gayle (49) Associate Professor Planning
Jake (52) Professor Physical Education
Kelli (34) Assistant Professor Political Studies Kristine (42) Associate Professor Education
Leon (52) Associate Professor Information Science
Lydia (38) Associate Professor Education Meredith (52) Professor Business/Economics
Nathaniel (34) Assistant Professor English
Table 3.3: Key Informant Participants
Key Informant Participants
2 See section 3.5.3 for a description of how academic progression (and
associated position titles) differ between Canada and Australia.
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Pseudonym Position Division / Unit Australia
Cristina (27) Staff Technology transfer
Lillie (45) Director Research training
Markus (24) Manager Digital training Canada
Floyd (48) Manager Knowledge Mobilisation support unit
Jane (age not disclosed)
Dean Community Education
Wilson (52) Senior Staff University administration
3.6 Data Quality and Rigour
Rigour refers to the quality of the research process; the more rigorous, the
more trustworthy the research is expected to be (Saumure & Given, 2008b, p.
795). Rigour is methodologically agnostic; it must be present regardless of the
methods or methodology employed. Saumure and Given (2008b) indicate that
rigour in qualitative studies is defined by several factors: transparency,
credibility, dependability, comparability and reflexivity (p. 795), explained
below.
Transparency concerns the clarity of the research process (Saumure &
Given, 2008b, p. 795). There are several factors that increase transparency, such
as the researcher journal, memos, information letters, and clear and consistent
communication. Memos were generated through the research process to reduce
reliance on memory and information communicated to participants was
consistent and clear throughout by providing information letters. By
maintaining clarity through documents and communicating all aspects of the
method (outlined above) in the thesis and resulting publications, an audit trail
is created with which transparency can be judged. Similar to the thesis, any
subsequent publication of this research will outline the methods.
Credibility addresses the representation of the data, that it be presented
fairly and accurately (Saumure & Given, 2008b, p. 796). Saumure and Given
suggest that this can be accomplished by citing negative cases, where the data do
not support the theory (p. 795). The researcher has endeavoured to accurately
represent the contributions of participants and provide a robust understanding
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of the engagement context by relying on participant interviews coupled with key
informant interviews.
Dependability is whether other researchers would be able to obtain
similar results given similar participants or data (Saumure & Given, 2008b, p.
795). In a social constructionist epistemology such as this, the researcher is part
of the research process. In order to account for increased dependability, the
researcher discussed coding, analysis and other aspects of the research process
with supervisors throughout the process.
Comparability refers to comparing parts of the data set with the whole to
ensure that the theory being built represents all voices in the research (Saumure
& Given, 2008b, p. 795). Grounded theory stresses comparison throughout the
research process, which was done by conducting comparisons across memos,
data, codes, and existing literature through0ut the research process.
Finally, reflexivity is how researchers position themselves within the
research process and how they may have influenced the study (Saumure &
Given, 2008b, p. 796). Reflexivity is a core function of the grounded theory
approach. Consistent with social constructionism, the researcher was vital to the
research process and positioned themselves in relation the study. A research
journal was used to account for reflexivity in the research wherein the researcher
detailed the research process, reflections on the process, and difficulties that
arose, in order to a make sense of and further problematise the research
undertaken.
3.7 Qualitative Writing of Results
The research findings and resulting discussion are presented thematically
in the following chapters. Holloway and Brown (2016) suggest that separate
finding and discussions chapters are “not very readable or engaging” and
therefore “the findings and discussion are often integrated in qualitative
dissertations” (p. 125). For this reason, Chapters 4 to 6 explore key research
themes, with the findings and discussion explored simultaneously to ensure
that participants’ voices are highlighted throughout.
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The structural approach to writing the findings and discussions draws on
research design and narrative approaches. The research design organises the
results, which is explored and analysed by the researcher and supported by the
narratives of the participants. As Hennink, Hutter, and Bailey (2010) assert, the
participant voice “can convey the issues more vividly than your own [the
researcher’s] words” (p. 276). Additionally, using quotations is a method for
demonstrating validity: “from a methodological perspective, the use of
quotations is often seen as a means of validating the issues reported, to show
that they were indeed evident in the data in the way the researcher described”
(Hennink et al., 2010, p. 280). Drawing on participant voice, examples are
presented that highlight individuals’ experiences; such examples are used to
illustrate the overall theme. Participant quotations illustrate the research
findings, and discussion of those findings is provided by the researcher to
analyse the phenomenon (community engagement) and address the research
questions.
There are three major themes that build on each other and multiple sub-
themes contained within each. The research questions and sub-questions are
taken up across the discussions and findings. However, broadly, theme one
(Chapter 4) addresses research question one, setting the stage by exploring
what engagement activities look like for the participants and how participants
conceive of community engagement. Theme two, presented in Chapter 5,
contends with the second research question by looking at the systems that
surround engagement including administration, support structures (campus-
based units such as media divisions), and the promotion process (annual
reviews and tenure). Finally, in Chapter 6, theme three explores research
question 3a by considering the relationship between engagement and impact
and reflects on broader questions about the changing role of universities. The
fourth research question — looking at the information behaviours of
community-engaged academics — is dealt with all three chapters. The third
research question, “how might academics who engage in community
engagement activities inform academics who are not engaging in such
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activities?” is explored throughout all three chapters but is more thoroughly
addressed in the concluding Chapter 7.
3.8 Limitations
As with any research, this research project has limitations. Practical
considerations must be put in place in order to obtain an achievable research
outcome. In formulating research projects, qualitative researchers may ask
themselves, “why will knowledge of a single or limited number of cases be
useful to people who operate in other, potentially different situations?”
(Donmoyer, 2008). Indeed, it is envisaged that much can be gleaned by
prospective academic readers of this research about their own situations in
relation to community engagement, by juxtaposing the experiences of the study
participants. Where a quantitative approach may provide a bird’s-eye snapshot
of the engagement space, it would not elucidate personal stories for readers to
reflect upon. The individual voices of academics conducting community
engagement activities will indeed be useful in many situations, not only for
other community-engaged academics, but also for institutions, organisations,
communities and governments.
Participants self-identified as community-engaged scholars and, as such,
may not be considered ‘typical’ academics. The value of the study is that it is
that through using a qualitative lens the stories of this under studied
population can be illuminated. And, through this approach, insight into
research question three, “how might academics who engage in community
engagement activities inform academics who are not engaging in such
activities?” can be generated.
The research has been constructed based on the context of currently
available literature in a variety of fields and, as evidenced in the literature
review (see Chapter 2). Not only is there a dearth of research concerning
academics and community engagement generally, but research conducted in a
qualitative paradigm is grossly underrepresented. Lacking scholarship
concerning community-engaged HSS scholars and how they mobilise
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engagement in their local contexts means that there is not a rich body of
literature on which to draw. As a result, the inductive exploratory research lays
some of the groundwork for future studies.
The research questions seek to come to a broad understanding of
community engagement activities by academics across countries (Australia and
Canada); however, due to the small sample in each country (n = 10) the
research cannot paint a full picture of the activities within each country.
Additionally, while differences may exist between participant contributions
geographically, a robust comparison is not achievable. This is an acceptable and
expected limitation of the study as neither of these potential shortcomings are
stated goals based on the research questions.
There is a paradox in conducting research with academics about
community engagement. The community with which the research is concerned
is the academic community; those most interested in the results of the study
are likely to be located in the academic community, not in the public. However,
hopefully the results will inform the academic community so they can better
work to negotiate the disconnect between the academy and the public, in term
furthering the project of community engagement. As is explored in the
concluding chapter, this exploratory study lays the groundwork to better
understand community-engaged HSS scholars’ pathways into community, but
additional research is required from the perspective of community.
3.9 Conclusion to Chapter 3
This research uses a social constructionist framework guided by
grounded theory methodology. Data were triangulated by relying on multiple
data collection methods in order to gain insight into academics’ experiences
related to community engagement. With the academic landscape rapidly
changing in light of evolving funding models, a focus on increased
accountability for taxpayer-funded grant schemes, and the rise in importance of
societal impact, this is an ideal time to have documented academics’ experiences
and support needs in the community engagement space. The research focuses
on Australia and Canada but has the potential to be extended to other countries
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in future research. The results are a contribution to scholarly literature in the
scholarship of engagement which is situated within the study of higher
education as well as information behaviour, which is situated within information
science.
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Chapter 4: Discussions and Findings
What it Means to Engage: The Nebulous Nature of Engagement
This chapter presents the first of three themes and explores the ‘what,
‘how,’ and ‘why,’ of community engagement from the perspective of
participants. In order to generate an understanding of what it means to
participate in community engagement activities as an HSS scholar, the context
of what forms engaged scholarship takes, is provided (Section 4.1). The
connection to, and interaction with, community takes many forms, so how
community-engaged academics find their way into community is explored
using a case study of one type of engagement activity: community engagement
through the media. This provides a micro view of the machinations of
engagement from the perspective of participants as well as the various push
and pull factors that exist, and persist, within universities and disciplines.
(Section 4.2). Finally, participant motivations for, and understandings of,
conducting community engagement activities are provided. Understanding
‘why’ community-engaged scholars choose to work with/within communities
gives context to their community work (Section 4.3).
Chapter 4 is concerned with research questions 1, 3, and 4, and broadly
explores the implications for what it means to be a community-engaged HSS
scholar — both philosophically, and in practice — in order to consider how to
best support community engagement activities (which is addressed in Chapter
5).
Table 4.1: Research Questions
1. How do academics who participate in community engagement activities conceive of their responsibility to the public? a. How do academics balance community engagement activities with their
teaching, research, and service requirements? b. How have they come to understand their role as academics with regards
to the broader community? 3. How might academics who engage in community engagement activities
inform academics who are not engaging in such activities? 4. What are the information behaviours (e.g., information needs,
seeking, use) of academics who participate in community engagement activities?
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4.1 The Varied Nature of Community Engagement
The participants discussed a variety of community engagement activities
that they participate in as part of their academic roles including: lobbying
(telecommunications), activism (anti-military), NGO liaising, crowdfunding,
advocacy (queer, policy, refugees, prisons), digital storytelling, community
wellness instruction, participatory action research (community policing,
Indigenous, low income single mothers, prison radio), conducting public talks,
participating in media (The Conversation, newspapers, TV, podcasts), early
childhood education initiatives, and cinema outreach education. The diverse
range of activities reflected the diversity of participants. Community
engagement can take many forms and how academics enact engagement is
dependent on a variety of factors, including career stage, disciplinary norms,
university expectations/culture, and the individual academics’ philosophy
concerning the role of universities. Just as there is not a single ‘right way’ to be
an academic, there is not a single ‘right way’ to be a community-engaged
academic.
While participants identified activities that may reasonably be classed as
community engagement, they did not define the concept consistently. To a
large extent, the understandings of community engagement were constructed
by individuals rather than through an applied external definition. However,
declaring ‘it’s engagement because I say it is,’ may result in a delegitimizing of
the concept of engagement within universities because the lack of a solidified
definition renders it meaningless. Ill-defined understandings of community
engagement run the risk of turning a concept into a buzzword.
The following sections detail how participants conceptualise what it
means to engage with community and where they situate themselves in relation
to community, for example whether their activities are ‘with,’ ‘for,’ or ‘to’
community (Table 4.2: Depth of Engagement). Boyer’s (1990, 1996) conception
of the scholarship of engagement would see engagement integrated into all
aspects of scholarly life, however the participant responses concerning the
forms engaged scholarship takes varied considerably. For some, community
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was central to their academic lives; for others, the responsibility to community
only extended to communication (via open access, for example) or assuming an
advocacy role. While the shape of interactions with community may not look
the same across the board, what was universal to all participants was the belief
that their work with community, in whatever form, was important, useful, and
worthwhile. Because community engagement activities are not (generally)
mandated for academics, it is a choice to do engagement work. That choice was
typically motivated by passion for the community, the research, and for the
important role knowledge plays in society.
The following table provides some broad categories drawn from
participants to illustrate their approaches to community engagement work
which is explored further in Section 4.1.1. A majority of the participants
reported doing more than one type of community engagement activity (based
on their own internalised understanding of what community engagement was).
Table 4.2: Depth of Engagement
‘With’ community ‘For’ community ‘To’ community
Participatory action
research
Digital storytelling
Crowdfunding
Activism
Advocacy
Community wellness
instruction
Early childhood
education
Lobbying
Policy synthesis
NGO liaising
Conducting public talks
Media participation
Cinema outreach
education
4.1.1 What it Means to Engage
The participants in this study as varied in their responses of how
‘community engagement’ is defined as is the literature. Some participants
reported a doing research with communities, others did research for
communities, while others had done research which resulted in a net benefit to
community. These different approaches to engaging with community were
highlighted by Annabelle, a development studies lecturer in Australia, who
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stressed that the ways people talk about engagement matters. She noted that
not all forms of community-engaged research are created equal, stating that
“the nature of the relationship with community [ranges from] doing something
for community, doing something with community, [or] doing something [to
community].” Doing something ‘with’ a community might take the form of
community action research, where community is integrated throughout the
research process from inception, to design, through to analysis and outputs.
Doing something ‘for’ community could take the form of a commissioned study
for a community. Doing something ‘to' a community is more of a positivist
approach, where a researcher does research on a community, which may bring
benefits to that community. How researchers position themselves in relation to
community affects the research results and outputs.
Indeed, conceptual and definitional understandings of engagement have
long been a struggle to clearly describe for those promoting engagement
activities. Jane, who as a Dean was charged with navigating her faculty in
Canada through how they interpret engagement, discussed their approach to
deciding on the scope of community engagement in their attempt to reduce its
“definitional anarchy.” Rather than creating a definition, she said her faculty
sought to distinguish between engagement and outreach activities:
What we agreed to do — with some grumbling — was not define that
[community engagement], because that would exclude a whole lot of
communities, and a whole lot of people. [Instead we choose to] not
define engagement, as much as possible, but distinguish between
engagement and outreach.
Outreach is ‘delivery to’ rather than ‘engagement with’ those in
communities. The distinction that Jane draws may not be as applicable — or
appreciated — in some disciplines, particularly those like science that have a
long history of outreach. What many of the participants reported as
‘engagement’, for example media or giving public talks, may not be considered
outreach in Jane’s rubric.
Camille, a Canadian education professor, provided an example of
research ‘with’ community. Her research was designed to have community at
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the centre of the approach. Using a process of community-engaged inquiry, she
co-constructed the project and the results of her research with participants. She
explained:
Before I came into academia, it was my second or third career, so I
brought in a lot of experience and interest in community, so I’ve always
tended to work in community and be interested in it as an important
source of knowledge, as well as a site of learning. So that sort of infused
my academic work. So almost all of my research projects have been some
form of community-engaged inquiry with community, sometimes I’ve
initiated the partnerships, other times I’ve been invited by community to
do something. So, it’s a strong theme and frame of my research.
Camille’s research with the community directly addresses issues facing it.
Similarly, the approach taken by Emily, a senior lecturer in information science
in Australia, was to conduct a needs assessment with the community she was
working with to identify topics for workshops. The workshops would then be
developed and delivered by her and her research assistants, from which
research data would emerge. She described the process:
During the interviews we asked them “what did you want to learn” so
“what do you expect to learn, from us.” Okay, "what’s the problems or
issue when you’re using computers or internet" and they tell us 1, 2, 3. So
we list them, and we collate the list, of what they want to learn. And
then we design the workshop, myself and research assistants, and
[create] our data and training workshop.
This type of community-engaged research puts the community at the centre
and responds directly to the needs identified from those in the community
which is often to the direct benefit of the researcher (Israel et al., 2005;
Shalowitz et al., 2009). In such a scenario, research is not being imposed
externally, but rather co-created (from research requestions onward) with
participants.
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In terms of research ‘for’ community, in describing work she had done in
Central America, Lydia, an associate professor of education in Canada,
explained how perceived her role as a researcher in the context of advocate and
connector:
The way I see my role and I think the benefit to the community is the
international awareness and attention that can happen. So, like I said,
I’m not part of their community, to me that’s not my fight, but it’s a
global fight about protecting forests, protecting culture, protecting land,
people and all of that, and I have a different privilege when it comes to
talking to the United Nations or to various NGOs or the Canadian
government who has seriously high levels of mining interests in [the
country she’s working in], and I have a different cachet, I guess, then my
partners do.
As a researcher, Lydia has the potential to leverage her social and cultural
privilege/capital for the benefit of the communities (and indeed the country)
she’s working with. In this way the research is ‘for’ the community.
Traci, who is a senior lecturer in sociology at a large Australian
university, described her research as “problem identification,” and worked with
various stakeholders to apply her research findings to improve community
outcomes. Her research realises a net benefit ‘to’ the community without
community involvement in research design or implementation:
I’d say my research is more on the problem identification end and the
providing evidence of new issues and putting them, like that sort of
agenda setting end of the spectrum. Here’s these problems with current
policy and here’s data to indicate that these actually are problems, and
then other people take that, like these bodies [government
organisations], use that to either change their service practices.
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Traci’s approach is not embedded in, or directly engaged with, community. By
working from a policy level, it is a step removed from the community her work
may in time have an impact and, as such, is ‘to’ a community.
Where participants positioned themselves in relation to community and
the approaches that they employed in their research was informed by the types
of outcomes they were looking to achieve (e.g., influencing policy, strengthen
internal understandings of community conditions, etc.) and, to a large extent,
disciplinary norms around established, and accepted, research practice.
Their embeddedness within community also relates to their academic
identities. Social positioning theory provides a framework for exploring identity
formation which is informed by a subject’s position within a context (Davies &
Harré, 1990) — in this case, a researcher (along with their status, role, position,
and other subjectivities) within a community (in whatever shape that takes).
Through discursive processes, the identities of community-engaged scholars
are shaped. Individuals maintain a multiplicity of identities. The participants
asserted that their motivation (explored further in Section 4.3) to do
community-engaged work was informed by their identity as scholars and their
beliefs about the role of scholars in society. Their identities as community-
engaged scholars is an extension of their formed identities as academics. For
the majority, their dedication to engaging in the community was not predicated
on metrics, definitional understands of ‘community’ or ‘engagement’, or
recognition through RPT processes. Rather, they engaged with community
primarily because they cared about the community and their academic identity
was intertwined with their community activities. As Dale, an Australian senior
lecturer in English, noted:
My whole career is about impacting on the community… I don’t really
have a great interest in pure research for its own sake. I have an interest
in the application that it can make.
Similarly, the Canadian associate professor in information science Leon
suggested that those who engage in community are internally motivated to do
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so. He maintained, “I think it’s all innate. If you don’t care about making the
community where you live and work better, you’re not going to do research in
the community. So, it’s just who you are.” The notion of being “who you are”
relates directly to academic identity. Leon’s suggestion is that community-
engaged scholars are ‘in’ and ‘of’ the community because they identity with the
needs of the community which in turn shapes how their identity as scholars.
However, Jake, a physical education professor in Canada, thought what
separated community-engaged scholars from those simply doing research
within communities depended on the motivation. He stated:
The people who I’d say are directly in the conversation of community
engagement (or engaged scholarship or scholarship of engagement), [for
them] I think the raison d’etre for a lot of those things is “I’m out in the
community. I mean, I’m looking at what are really the problems and
questions, and how can I work with these people.” I mean, that’s a very
different thing from “I’m in the faculty of phys ed and rec. and I am
interested in these questions, and it turns out that there are cancer
patients in the community, and I can take my funded research project
and do it there.”
In the above examples, one type of research puts the community at the centre
and seeks to address needs, whereas the other may result in some benefit to the
community but was not generally entered into with that intent. Indeed the
latter example in Jake’s statement may not be community-engaged research,
but a traditional research methodology (Doberneck et al., 2010; Kasworm &
Abdrahim, 2014).
The identity of community-engaged scholars is shaped by the discourse
between them and the community(s) they work with and the position they
hold in that community. Doing research ‘on’ or ‘to’ a community is not engaged
scholarship. In effect, community-engaged scholars are fulfilling a moral
obligation to do good and promote social justice (Macfarlane, 2007). As Bond
and Paterson (2005) argue, community-engaged researchers often conceive of
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themselves being both ‘in’ and ‘of’ community. They are not passive external
actors, but rather active players which contributes to identify formation around
being community-engaged scholars.
However, engagement is occasionally so broad and all-encompassing
that it loses specific meaning. If engagement is everything, it runs the risk of
starting to mean nothing. At some level, the debate around what is or is not
classified as engagement can be pedantic. If an academic believes they are
engaging in community, is that not enough? If they are contributing to
community and improving outcomes, is the research path they take or how
they label their activities (engaged research or not) relevant? With assessments
like The Impact and Engagement Framework (EI) 2018 (ARC) in Australia, an
explicit definition of engagement matters because it places boundaries on the
scope of relevant activities; this, in turn, informs how academics and
universities conceptualise, enact and reward engagement activities. The EI 2018
Framework defines engagement as follows:
Research engagement is the interaction between researchers and
research end-users outside of academia, for the mutually beneficial
transfer of knowledge, technologies, methods or resources. (p. 5)
Using this definition, all of the participants’ research could be
considered to be engagement activities. When metrics are adopted and applied
to measure the success of engagement, and when institutions and individuals
are judged by those metrics, the definitions the metrics are predicated on start
to matter very much.
Broadly conceiving of any interaction with the public (or those outside
of academia) poses a challenge to the scholarship of engagement, which seeks
to establish and maintain reciprocal relationships with community. Interacting
with the public and being accountable to the public (or community) are not
analogous.
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4.1.2 Getting In: Navigating Community Access
With a broad understanding of the motivations for doing work with
community provided, this section addresses research question 3, exploring how
community-engaged HSS scholars navigate their way into community and how
their journeys can provide insight for others seeking pathways into community
engagement. Understanding the relationship to community, and how
academics locate their work there, has implications for those looking to identify
the impact of their research — particularly community-engaged early career
researchers (ECR). While some participants ‘fell in’ to working with
community, others took years to develop lasting relationships. In both cases,
participants reported that high quality research outputs had been produced in
addition to positively impacting their community partners. Exploring the
possible pathways to community and being mindful of the potential
consequences for community partners (e.g., unwanted exposure, research
fatigue, resource depletion) allows other researchers to envision how their own
research interests may be positioned with community.
By learning how researchers find, or align themselves with communities,
improved support structures within university offices and divisions (e.g.,
libraries, research offices, knowledge mobilisation units, commercialisation,
technology transfer offices) and for graduate training, can be imagined.
Accessing a community takes many different shapes; even for a single
researcher, it may morph and take different routes for each research project. As
Camille described, “almost all of my research projects have been some form of
community-engaged inquiry with community, sometimes I've initiated the
partnerships, other times I've been invited by community to do something.”
There is no clear route to how academics identify community partners. Lillian,
a lecturer in media and communications, stressed that engaged scholarship is
“finding out what it is that that community group wants to do, and acting on
that rather than coming [into the community] and going, ‘we've got this
program for you, that's going to benefit you.’” In Lillian’s estimation, being
there for the community means saying “okay, what's your problem? How can
we solve it.?” Epistemologically, this approach is consistent with various
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practice-based methodologies including action research and participatory
research, both of which are community-engaged approaches.
Participants described many different pathways into communities,
including leveraging previous projects, accessing community members through
intermediate organisations (e.g., NGOs, non-profits, dedicated outreach units
within organisations), mobilising their networks (both academic and non-
academic), being facilitated through university units, and serendipity.
4.1.2.1 Leveraging Previous Projects for New Ones
One project often leads to another. Once a relationship with a
community partner has been established, the need for research (including
subsequent projects) often becomes apparent. Participants’ experiences where
their connection to community was born out of a previous connection (e.g., an
academic residency, crowdfunding projects, a field study) highlight the various
pathways that academics take in connecting with community.
Leon described how it was a natural fit for him to do research with his
community library because of his experience working as a faculty member in
residence and the network he built through that process. The network he had
established through a previous project proved useful when going forward with
new research:
I’ve done a lot of work with [a local] library… [and I have] done some
research projects in the [university] library. So, they just know me.… I
was faculty member in residence, so trying to launch new research
projects. And I know the [university] library wanted to partner with [the
local] library as part of this community outreach, and so I said maybe we
can get together, because I knew the chief librarian at [local] public
library, and so "let’s all to get together," and held basically a workshop,
and we had people come in and had little tables set up, to sort of elicit
different research ideas. We listed them and ranked them and this
digital story telling project was number one, it’s the one that most
people had excitement over. And so, the idea was “well we can’t do all
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these twenty projects, let do one and see how it goes.” So that’s how it all
kind of started. That was three years ago.
While his motivation to pursue the research was its contribution to the
community — "I tend to do more practical projects … because I want to do
research that matters and makes a difference” — his ability to do so was
because of the network he had built from previous projects. There are a few
things at play here. He might not have made those connections if not for his
stint as faulty member in residence, a position that took him out of his regular
role and exposed him to various new people and connections. Israel et. al.
(1998) call this type of previous connection a ‘facilitating factor’ and suggest
that having a “history of prior positive working relationships may be considered
a facilitator and the absence of such history an impediment” (p. 182).
Additionally, Leon knew he could pursue this research because the university’s
opinion was “as long as you’re productive, it’s fine. They don’t care what you
research.” This knowledge of institutional priorities, and that his activities
would be supported, is another factor that encourages engagement (Israel et al.,
1998). By ensuring that he was research productive, he was able to pursue this
community-based research. Leon not only thought the research was of value,
he also found it personally gratifying:
What I find fascinating is when I got to the community, like the [city’s]
Chamber of Commerce, or these other associations, people recognise me
“you’re [Leon], I’ve heard of you," "I know who you are,” so people
recognise me at these meetings and I’ve never met these people. So, to
me it’s kind of, "how’d you know about my research?” It’s just that is a
little bit rewarding, knowing that people who do this work all the time,
or are in the community all the time, are valuing it; have read or know of
you and appreciate it.
As one project leads to the next, researcher’s networks can get larger with more
potential partners. A researcher will build their professional, academic, and
community networks throughout their career, so, senior researchers are more
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likely to have robust networks and be in a better position to establish
collaborative partnerships than their junior colleagues.
Leon’s reflections have implications for how community-engaged
academics mentor, educate and share their networks with junior colleagues and
grad students to build and maintain their own networks. Mentoring is critical
as acquiring the skills required to effectively network is challenging in the
context of a classroom setting (Bridgstock, 2009). The ability to build networks
(with community or industry) is an increasingly important skill for graduate
students to acquire (Andrews & Higson, 2008). While these skills may be
crucial in the trajectory of an academic career they are seldom included in
graduate training (Gill, 2018). In the context of community-engaged research, it
may take many years to establish relationships of trust and reciprocity with
communities — with research being one possible output.
An example of how one project can produce additional and ongoing
engagements was provided by Gloria, a media and communications professor in
Australia. She helped orchestrate a crowdfunding project with another
academic in a small community exploring a local agricultural issue.
Crowdfunding (e.g., Pozible, Kickstarter, Chuffed) is an avenue that some
academics are now using for fundraising, as it can open the door to finding
community members with whom to engage on research projects.
Gloria reflected on how the exposure from crowd funding created a
group of community members supportive of the project as it went forward. She
described that “the whole town supported the project and they then became
her taste testers [of the product being developed]. So, she [the researcher Gloria
was working with] was able to keep that engagement going, not just through
the funding period.” With the funding model — crowdfunding — creating
community buy-in, this initial fundraising phase of the project established
connections with the community for future components of this, and other,
projects (research, product testing, packaging focus groups, etc.).
While Gloria’s example was very local in context, Lydia discussed
orchestrating a field school for students that led to a multi-year research
project with a local community in rural Central America:
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The partnerships we have down there started with our field school … the
basic idea was just to start talking to partners down there... We didn't
know any of them, [so we needed to] make connections and just check
out logistics… We've now been there six times, two in the field school
and then the rest has been research. And so, we've built those
partnerships through multiple exchanges… It takes about two years to
prep an initial field school, I would say, and then it has to run. But those
two years before, that’s when you're building those partnerships and
going down there and connecting. You get nothing during that time
period. I still have my regular workload… [so] it makes it really difficult
to, in particular, build partnerships I would say. Because partnerships
take time and they take face to face, and they take a lot of work, and it
can't just be "hey guys we're here. Let's do our thing," it needs to be
building that.
The connection with the community, established for a single purpose, resulted
in a long-term partnership with Lydia bringing various other academics into
the project. Lydia’s reflections on the time required to create relationships with
marginalised group, is consistent with the literature, which stresses that in
many cases substantial time is needed to conduct community-engaged research
(for example; Ahmed et al., 2016; Amey, Brown, & Sandmann, 2002; Bentley &
Kyvik, 2011; Savan, Flicker, Kolenda, & Mildenberger, 2009; Siemens, 2012).
Maintaining established relationships while not actively undertaking a
research project can also be important to keep the doors open to future
collaborations; for example, Australian media and communications lecturer Joy,
discussed leveraging community connections made during her PhD research —
working with dancers — into her current research as a lecturer.
The above examples drawn from participants illustrate a few of the many
pathways researchers follow to engage with communities. Parlaying one
project, and the associated previous relationships, into another project is but
one potential pathway. Senior academics are particularly well positioned to
conduct additional engaged-research as they have the benefit of previous
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projects and connections on which to develop new research. Scholars may draw
on information from their previously established community-based networks to
fashion and facilitate future projects.
4.1.2.2 Accessing Community Through Intermediate Organisations
Finding a way into organisations to conduct research can be a challenge.
Participants discussed leveraging intermediate organisations to bridge the gap
between academia and community. These organisations often do not have a
research mandate, but rather are associated with communities in a service
capacity. Meredith, a Canadian business/economics professor, pointed out that
in addition to official channels, like a government ministry, not-for-profits and
non-governmental organisations can assist. Ahmed et al. (2016) suggest that
“community organizations often have long-standing, relationships built on
trust with target populations” (p. 58), and are therefore a useful pathway to
community for researchers.
For some participants, approaching intermediate organizations was seen
as a starting point in pursuing research engagement activities. Kelli, an
assistant professor of political studies in Canada, noted that organisations such
as NGOs and non-profits are her starting point: “I’m starting with
organisations, because organisations get me into communities.” Similarly,
Traci, a senior lecturer of sociology, discussed leveraging contacts she had “in
the welfare-to-work space, which is what I was doing before…I had good
contacts with a lot of the social service agencies, [and] did a lot of recruitment
through them.” Engagement is a critical pathway to research having an impact.
One of the key benefits to this approach is that the pre-existing connection can
mean there is a greater potential for the research to be adopted by the
organisation. As Traci proclaimed: “they’d actually use my research!”
An Australian senior lecturer in education, Sarah discussed how having
her research make a difference was critically important: “I try and do research
that will inform policy, or inform organisations, so I do a lot of commissioned
research with organisations, practitioner research or embedded research in
organisations… I try… and make a difference that way.” Where Kelli utilised
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organisations to identify and access community populations, Sarah worked
directly with, or sometimes for, the organisations to conduct the research.
Working with these organisations directly was, in Sarah’s view, an approach
that increased, and ultimately resulted in, her research being implemented into
practice. This is consistent with research that has found that consultancy
research (where partner organisations solicit researchers) often results in
successful knowledge transfer to organisations (Olmos-Peñuela, Castro-
Martínez, and D’Este, 2014).
As described above, identifying and working with an intermediate
organisation can take many different forms. This has implications for the
preparation of post-graduate students and how to navigate pathways into
community through organisations. There have been many calls for graduate
training to include development of a variety of skills including networking and
communication skills, but currently most programs are failing to deliver
(Moore & Morton, 2017). While such skills may assist with employability and
being “industry-ready,” there is an overlap of skills that community-engaged
scholars require to embed their practice within community and intermediate
organizations.
4.1.2.3 Network Mobilisation for Community-Engaged Research
Several participants reflected on how they were able to utilise pre-
existing networks — both academic and non-academic — to identify
partnerships in community. Kelli discussed how she was able to assist a
colleague in finding participants for a study by using personal and professional
connections she and her wife had made while living in New York. “It was kind
of like my personal connections in New York got her [my colleague] these
meetings,” she said. “Essentially what I did in that case was like hand her my
fieldwork Rolodex ... and then my wife had worked in the funding sector in
New York when we lived there so it was like.... ‘go call them and they’ll talk to
you.’” This kind of networked connection is fairly typical information-sharing
behaviour as colleagues are often a key source of information (Cross & Sproull,
2004; Miller, 2015).
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While Kelli described facilitating connections for others, Emily shared
how she found herself doing research in an Indigenous community through the
help of her masters student. Often, research has misrepresented Indigenous
people so there can be distaste and mistrust of it (J. Ball & Janyst, 2008). As a
result, getting access and acceptance through built trust with a community can
be a long journey (Castleden, Morgan, & Lamb, 2012).For Emily, getting access
to this community as an outsider was prohibitively difficult, but the personal
connection of her student made it feasible. Emily explained:
It’s very difficult because to get their [the Indigenous group’s]
permission… As I said I’m from [Asia], you know, I’m not local
Australian… but very fortunately I have a masters student … she has over
ten years working experience with that particular community and she’s
keen to do research in information behaviour. So, we collaborated with
each other... She’s my PhD student now, and she built up the trust
between me and them, so this is great bridge. She’s great bridge. So, I
got a chance to work with them. And grants for the starting, for this PhD
starting as well.
This kind of network connection is not atypical and is illustrative of how
researchers draw on a variety of information sources, including colleagues, in
order to facilitate research. Emily’s example is an interesting one as it is the
opposite of the norm; in most cases, senior researchers reported helping junior
colleagues (e.g., building off their networks) and junior colleagues identify
supporting senior colleagues. Information sources and potential community
connections are not, and need not, always hierarchically superior, which is a
valuable consideration for researchers at all career stages. Senior academics
who pay little heed to aspiring academics may be doing so at their own folly.
Leveraging network connections for research opportunities can happen
at all stages of a career. Because of her newness to the role, Joy indicated that
she had few community connections locally yet was able to leverage her
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graduate student experience as she moved into her ECR roll in order to identify
research partners. Joy stated:
I don't have those kind of ongoing connections, out [of the university],
because I'm new here, and finding a way to do that is, is interesting. But
I do have a much more established relationship with technologies that
allow me international development and national networks instead. … I
was lucky to be involved in a couple of kind of scholarly networks when I
was a grad student … making connections across lots of different
universities, you know, people I could knock on their office door at most
of the universities in Australia, both junior and senior academics and I
think that's something to kind of sell. Although it doesn't necessarily
reach outside, but it does allow me to use them to, I guess to get outside
the institution as well.
Similarly, Traci was able to draw on her network developed through
practitioner conferences in order to identify a research community: “through
conferences I’ve come to know them [people at an organisation] and what
they’re doing and so I contacted a particular person and said would you be
interested in being part of this research and they say, ‘yeah, sure. Yes…’" Traci’s
example also illustrates a challenge for ECRs who have often not established a
robust network to draw on.
Meredith recognised the importance of building her network early in her
career and said that it “evolved over time … it has been a long period of building
up relationships within the academic community, as well as the broader
receptive community.” She identified a few factors in her personal and
professional life that permitted her the time required to build her extensive
network:
I had funding, which not everyone does. Because I had funding, and
perhaps because I don’t have a family, I was able to travel a lot. So
throughout my entire career I have always just gone to things. So,
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academic stuff, but also all of industry and government things, and
sometimes I just invite myself.
Having funding that released her from teaching obligations and with no family
obligations, Meredith was able to expand and built her network in ways that
might not be available to other academics. The network she spent years
building has provided her with research opportunities and insights into the
communities her research serves. As a result of a municipal project she
participated in, she was able to draw on her many networks. She reflected that
the project, “was probably one of the first times that the research I was doing
with other people [academics and community members] was being
disseminated outside the academic environment.” The reason her work was
able to be disseminated outside of academia was, in part, because of the non-
academic network she had invested time in developing.
Building networks that will foster and support connections to enable
community engagement activities takes considerable time and, for those in
systems that have tenure processes, “the tenure ‘clock’ and workload demands
greatly reduce the time available for faculty members to structure service-
related activities that may contribute to their scholarship” (Demb & Wade,
2012, p. 342). Meredith had more time than other might have to devote to
building those connections as a result of her personal circumstances. For
scholars considering doing community engagement work, it may simply not be
possible to find the time due to their life circumstances (for example, a high
teaching load or carer duties). The majority of the participants reflected on how
the energy put into engagement activities came at a personal cost of some sort
(e.g. time, energy extended, resources used, being away from family, etc.).
When it comes to structuring workload, academics wishing to do community-
engaged work, may do well to consider the time required to build appropriate
networks and evaluate what they are willing to invest.
Building a robust network, however, does not guarantee community
support in research. In Canada, assistant professor in business/economics
Abdul, was met with considerable resistance from his local progressive Muslim
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community when he and a co-author started addressing queer themes in his
business and economics scholarship. He also experienced resistance from
within the LGBT community.
You meet these angels along the way who are there to help you. And
then of course the people that you expect that they would help you, they
turn out to be monsters. You know, some people in the LGBT
community or some people in the Muslim community, that you thought
that, in the progressive Muslim community, that you thought that they
would be your best allies, they turned out to be really really horrid
people. It’s mostly egos. Mostly, you know, snootiness, that’s what it is.
And so, neither of us [Abdul and his writing partner] are there for
though pomp and glory… [I’m] crazy about this and so it’s really … very
personal for me.
Abdul’s example was an outlier in the study. Across the board, participants
discussed being able to rely on their academic and non-academic networks to
identify and mobilise research partnerships in community and relying on
colleagues and professional networks is, according to Leavy (2017, p. 227) a
recommended way of identifying community partners. But while Abdul’s
example may be a rare case, it is important to note that established networks
may not always facilitate the connections necessary for a research project, as
they may be either unable or unwilling. When looking at how Abdul was the
only participant whose network failed to come through for him in a substantive
way, it is important to recognise that researching hidden, marginal, or
contentious populations can often create unexpected challenges for
researchers. The challenges he faced however, helped inform his approach to
his work.
Overall, the networks, both within and external to the academy, that
academics build during their careers allow them access to various research
opportunities. A potential pathway to identifying research partners is by
mobilising individual networks. For ECR and graduate students looking to
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conduct engagement work, it is likely worthwhile to invest time in building a
variety of networks (e.g. professional, collegial, disciplinary, community,
industry).
4.1.2.4 Serendipity: A Pathway to Community
Information can be found through intentional search strategies in order
to fill a need, but can also be arrived at by chance, or serendipity (Case & Given,
2016). Similarly, while professional and personal networks are useful,
participants also told of identifying research opportunities and partners in
community through serendipitous means. Kelli provided an example of a
serendipitous connect when she became involved with an organisation as the
result of a single phone call at someone’s suggestion:
The new research relationship I’ve developed, that’s really kind of good,
is with a [a community organisation in the Middle East]… Someone told
me to call their founder right, and she was like “I don’t know why he told
you to call me, but okay that person told you to call me” and then I start
talking for a minute and she’s like “oh I know why” and I said “I’m
interested in how people from the diaspora get involved back home” and
she’s like “we have tremendous problems fundraising for the diaspora,
would you be willing to work with us on a collaborative research project
on diaspora philanthropy” and I was like “yes.”
One cold call created an unexpected research opportunity for Kelli. Sarah
related a research opportunity that arose out of a single phone call as well,
though it differed in that the organisation reached out to her:
I don’t know how this happened, but I got a phone call from the CEO, of
a children’s service organisation, it was at the time, it was one of the
largest in the country and one of the oldest in the country (it’s still one
of the oldest but not one of the largest) and I was asked to go and work
with them as a researcher in one of their areas to lead evaluation and
practitioner research. So, I kind of walked into that.
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In both cases, the researchers found opportunities to do community-engaged
research through serendipity. As explained in Section 2.1.3, serendipity is not
completely random chance; it is, at least to some extent, dependent on the
right conditions being in place for a person to be open to new information.
While this section (4.2) covers only how researchers acquired access to
communities for their community-based research, the participants related
many occurrences of a serendipitous nature of academia. Organisations
(community and universities alike) may do well to consider how to improve the
conditions for spontaneous information sharing. A potential topic for
additional study (see Future Research, Section 7.5) is how researchers can best
create, be open to, or welcome the possibility of instances of serendipitous
information.
4.1.2.5 Community Organisation Burnout
A concern raised by multiple participants was that organisations can
suffer from research fatigue. If institutions are expecting academics to conduct
community engagement activities, the toll it can take on partners must be
considered. Lillian, in acknowledging that organisations can play a role in
facilitating connections between researchers and various communities, also
cautioned that organisations can become overburdened with access requests if
researchers make multiple or complex requests.
There was one of the refugee organisations ... [that] had a bit of research
fatigue going on and was very sort of quite explicit about what they
could and couldn’t do and what they expected the university to do…
Along the lines of "if you want us to put up flyers, please don't email us
the flyer, post us a pack of the fliers because we don't have the resources
to print them."
Similarly, Gayle, an associate professor in Canada in the field of planning as it
relates to public health, suggested that organisations who are already
overextended might see working with researchers as an additional burden,
saying, “I think they think of it as extra work.” One of Gayle’s research areas is
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hospice care; she expressed her perceptions of how one of those organisation
responds to researchers when they already have their hands full managing
volunteers:
Volunteers there are working, some of them, three days a week on trying
to address their hospice needs at a voluntary capacity, and then here’s
this researcher that’s coming along going, “can I have an hour and a half
of your time. Can I have an hour. Oh, could you organise, you know, a
focus group for me? When can I come?” … I think it’s perceived as,
“research is not our mandate… we’re doing this for you [Gayle] because
we like you.”
In Gayle’s example, the value proposition for the intermediary organisation was
minimal as they were only capitulating to the request as a sort of personal
favour to the researcher. This raises larger questions of who is being served by
the research and whose needs are being prioritised. Community-engaged
research should benefit both the researcher and the community. This is not to
say that Gayle’s research did not benefit the target community but, by her own
account, the intermediary organisation perceived minimal value and saw it as
burdensome on their under-resourced organisation. These results echo Clark
(2008), who found that there are several precursors to research fatigue, which
include “lack of perceptible change attributable to engagement, increasing
apathy and indifference toward engagement, and practical barriers such as cost,
time, and organization.” (p. 965).
While some organisations, in spite of strained resources, might
capitulate to a researcher because of a pre-existing relationship, Gayle
hypothesised additional reasons why other organisations she had worked with
have agreed to her conducting research with their communities:
Another community [I have worked with], that thinks of it more as,
“we're really struggling, and so participating in this research I think will
really help us move along.’ Whereas another community is I think — I
perceive them to be thinking — that their participation in this research
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is helping to elevate their name and their role, and also, I think helping
to develop their own community.
The value proposition for the organisation in this example relates to a number
of factors including the research outputs, reputational elevation (through
association with the university), and community building. In terms of risk
analysis, the benefits of being part of the research may outweigh the additional
strain on an organisation’s resources.
While researchers need to be mindful of the potential toll that their
research can have on community organisations, university administrators
calling for increased community engagement and involvement must also
consider the impact on under-resourced community groups and organisations.
Appropriate community-engaged research considers the resources available to
organisations and works to co-create research projects sustainably which are
intended to ultimately benefit the community — not just the researcher or
associated institution via research outputs.
4.1.2.6 Value of Research for Community
The value proposition for community groups or organisations
participating in research is also important when establishing partnerships. As
Gayle illustrated, there are numerous reasons for entering a research
partnership. As many social science researchers work with or through non-
profits and small community-facing groups, questions arise as to what they get
out of the research process, research interactions, and the resulting research
outputs. Whatever the rationale, if an engaged process to the research is
undertaken — such as community-based participatory research or action
research — a benefit to the community should materialise, as the research has
been grounded in community need (Israel et al., 2005; Shalowitz et al., 2009).
Lillian acknowledged that, for some communities, there is only one way
to gain access. “We’re in talks with the main men's prison to trial running an
actual prison radio station, in the prison” she explained, but for her work with
prisoners to progress, she requires the approval of the prison. Working with
external partners is welcomed at her university, and she pitches such
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community partnerships in the same way others might speak of industry
partnerships:
There's definitely a recognition within the social sciences [at my
university] that our partners are different, that our industry partners are
not-for-profit, and they are small groups … But I think that … partnering
with organisations and bringing, bringing these small-scale community
organisations to the [University name’s] table, that is what's key for me.
Sort of keeping the powers that be happy.
Her comment, “keeping the powers that be happy,” reflects on notions of not
only what is acceptable at her university, but what is expected. Her institution,
which has a history in social justice, prioritises their connection to community
in its approaches to research. This is an example of how a university’s culture
can influence research activity.
Finally, there are units within some organisations tasked specifically
with facilitating collaborations between researchers and their end-users.
Kristine, an associate professor of education in Canada, was able to get access
to interview parents of school-aged children in a large metropolitan Canadian
city through a department in a local school district tasked with facilitating
partnerships of a wide variety between the schools and community entities
such academic institutions, for profit companies, and non-profit organisations.
Kristine stated that this partnerships department is, “delivering breakfast,
they're delivering a literacy group… [and through them] we're sending out
information to parents, we're doing interviews [with] parents, face-to-face,
telephone interviews…” Where some researchers, such as Gayle and Lillian,
acknowledged their research to be burdensome on organisations, Kristine’s
example highlights how some organisations have entire departments t0
facilitate the process. Resourcing such a department is certainly dependent on
the scale, capacity, priorities, and mission of an organisation, but it raises
questions about research with groups on the margins that are accessible only
through other community organisations that may also be overburdened or do
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not see value in research collaborations. These examples also raise questions
about the gatekeepers of community-engaged research, such as: If an
organisation exists between a community and researchers, whose interests are
being serviced?; and Who is deciding what research collaborations are worthy
and which are not?
4.1.2.7 Conclusions on Navigating Community Access
This sub-theme explored how academics identify and negotiate access to
communities for research. A majority of the participants established
connections to community not through university programs or supports, such
as research offices or specialised units. Rather, they were able to make
connections through previous partners, their networks (colleagues, supervisors,
associations, students), and via serendipitous means.
If universities want to support engagement — and some certainly do —
are they putting their resources where they are needed most? Additional
research is needed to identify what the types of supports that engaged scholars
require most to bear fruitful connections with community for research. This
research highlights that often, researchers are forging their own way through
the community engagement process with minimal support of their institutions.
The contributions of the participants suggest that there are many barriers —
local to the university, in the broader system, and within the discipline — to
working with community. These barriers will be explored further in Chapter 5:.
4.2 Media Engagement: An Exploration
The range of community engagement activities discussed by participants
went from very time-intensive, community-embedded research collaborations,
to brief engagements with the public (e.g., through the media). This section
focuses on the latter, dissemination of scholarly knowledge for the benefit of
communities and the public through media, examining how academics
communicate with the public, their rationale for doing so (or not), and the
types of supports (or lack of support) they are able to draw on from their
universities. There were a range a philosophical rationale for deciding to
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conduct media engagement activities (or not) which serve as broader
commentaries on the role of academics in society and the ways in which
universities share knowledge.
This section is particularly germane to research question 1b: “how have
they [community-engaged scholars] come to understand their role as
academics with regards to the broader community?” There are implications for
scholars considering public dissemination through media and for the
universities and units that support them. Again, the boundaries of what are
accepted, and acceptable, as scholarly acclivities is central to this theme.
While universities are often keen to have their academic staff take on a
public role as representatives of the university, their activities are often not
rewarded. In this boundary-spanning space (not exactly teacher, not exactly
researcher), there is a lack of clarity on how academic freedom is, or will be,
applied. For some, this ambiguity results in a decreased desire to engage
through media. While public exposure may benefit a researcher’s profile and
the community(s) they represent, it does not come without risk. One such risk
is that devoting too much time to public activities, such as media and writing
for the public, may adversely affect publication production and hinder
academic promotion. Achieving balance is core to research question 1a: “how
do academics balance community engagement activities with their teaching,
research, and service requirements?”
The spectrum of media participation by academics ranges widely and
includes the following types of activities: actively seeking opportunities to have
their work showcased in the media; being asked to comment on and/or be
interviewed by media organisations, either directly by media outlets or through
the university’s media division; and, being asked to contribute supporting
materials (e.g., providing research evidence for a community-based press
release) for media divisions without receiving attribution or acknowledgment
(i.e., in an advisory role). A minority of the academic participants in this study
pursued opportunities for research engagement through print, broadcast, and
web-based media in any capacity. Participants also discussed their social media
experiences and rationale for adopting or avoiding social media. Also
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highlighted are some of the fears that participants had when engaging with the
public through media, particularly in relation to academic freedom.
A common theme in the literature on community engagement at
universities is that institutions profess to value community engagement but are
often unwilling or under-resourced to support and reward such activities (see,
for example, Barnett, 2005; Bond & Paterson, 2005; Ginsberg, 2011; Hil, 2012;
Holland, 2009; Jaeger & Thornton, 2006; Winter, Wiseman, & Muirhead, 2006).
How participants perceived universities to be resourcing media engagement
will not be addressed here; that discussion will be presented in Section 5.2.1, on
participants’ perceptions of university systems and supports.
4.2.1 In Press: Public Engagement and the Written Word
In the interviews, participants were encouraged to identify ways that
they engage with the public and/or communities. One of the ways that
participants identified having a ‘point of contact’ with the public was through
print media. In the Australian context, several participants reported writing for
The Conversation, while other, more traditional print — e.g., newspapers —
was not mentioned. Launched in Australia in 2011 as a not-for-profit
organisation, and funded by universities, government and business, The
Conversation is an “independent source of news and views, sourced from the
academic and research community and delivered direct to the public”
(https://theconversation.com/au/who-we-are). The Conversation has since
launched in several countries worldwide; it launched in Canada in June 2017,
after data collection finished and therefore was not on the Canadian
participants’ radar. Generally, there was not a high rate of media participation
among participants in either country (in the Canadian context, only three
participants related experiences with print media) but the experiences are
none-the-less worth exploring as they represent an engagement activity with a
low barrier to entry, that requires minimal time investment by the researcher,
and has the potential to reach a large audience.
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4.2.1.1 Print in Australia and The Conversation: The New Norm for
Communicating with the Public Through Text
In Australia, The Conversation has established itself as a reliable venue
for academics to communicate with the public using lay language. It has a rich
editorial vetting process and a platform that shares content across several
countries. Lillie, a director of research training at an Australian university
whose portfolio includes supporting engagement initiatives, described the
venue: “The Conversation is a paid-for site that a whole lot of universities
contribute money to, and we create free content for it, but then it’s picked up
from news services. So that’s a key communication channel for lots of
universities.” It is not a requirement that contributors belong to an institution
that pays into The Conversation, but many are, with 39 of the 43 universities in
(in addition to media partners and government sponsors) supporting to the site
(https://theconversation.com/au/partners).
From the staff profile section of a university website, an editor for The
Conversation identified interview Irvin, a philosophy professor in Australia, as
an expert who could respond to a relevant issue and solicited material from
him. Over time, the relationship has progressed to Irvin not only responding to
requests but also pitching story ideas:
I have a relationship now with The Conversation editor who, when
something hits the news... They want to be timely. So occasionally I'll
approach her and say, "I've got this idea" and [she] may well say, “that's a
good idea, maybe write it and we'll pitch it when there's a hook,” when
something happens. Or she approaches and says, “this event has
happened, would you like to talk about it?”
As writing for the public is different from scholarly writing, editors at The
Conversation work with contributors to ensure that the writing is consistent
with the tone of the site. As Irvin stated, “people who edit for The Conversation
often have, you know, journalistic backgrounds, working newspapers, and so
forth… So, you learn to write quite differently. Much shorter paragraphs, for
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example, and also you get edited by their professional editors.” In effect, by
employing staff to work with academics to translate complex topics for a
generalist audience, the The Conversation reduces the barriers to entry into
public engagement for the academic, who often do not have training in writing
for the public and default to using discipline specific jargon (Rakedzon, Segev,
Chapnik, Yosef, & Baram-Tsabari, 2017). The Conversation is a conduit to the
public, and the material remains the intellectual property of the academic; as
such, the academic is still open to scrutiny, particularly when sharing sensitive
or politically charged research topics.
Irvin has a cross-appointment with an institution in the United Kingdom
where engagement activities such as publishing on the Faculty’s public-facing
blog and writing for venues like The Conversation are an expectation. He said,
“I'm expected to blog every six weeks or so from them. And whenever I blog, I
have the option of pitching it to The Conversation UK” but with regards to his
Australian university, “there's no formal requirement but it's still an
expectation.” He also reflected on the priorities of the discipline as to whether
media engagement is a typical expectation:
I think it's a cultural thing…. That in applied ethics you should be doing
outreach, you should be trying to have an impact on the debate. Also, if
you care about an issue, and you do come to care about it by working on
it, and you see people saying things about it... Just like people, you know,
that write comments on newspaper articles, there is an internal
motivation to try and have your say.
Irvin’s use the word “should” suggests there are disciplinary standards that he is
applying to his own work. There is a disciplinary expectation for applied
ethicists to be performing such activities. Similar sentiments were not
consistent across participants; for those wishing to do engagement activities in
disciplines that without such embedded cultural expectations embedded, doing
so would be counter the accepted narrative of what it means to work in that
discipline (Jacobson, Butterill, & Goering, 2004).
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For media and communications professor Gloria, the value of The
Conversation has not only been in sharing her specialised knowledge and
research with the public, but also in having the opportunity to connect with
people and get feedback on her work in ways that traditional academic outputs
rarely facilitate. She noted:
Some of the debates though I've had with people in the comments
section have been pretty good and it does give you that opportunity that
you never get as an academic. I have much more engagement with
readers through The Conversation than I've ever had for any of my
formal papers… Of course, some of those papers I'm really proud of and
they describe breakthroughs that are very difficult to summarise in eight
hundred words or less in The Conversation. And yet, it's hit or miss
whether or not you're going to get any citations or whether anyone
actually sees [the articles]; they're locked up behind paywalls, even other
academics can't find them.
Indeed, The Conversation has created a new way to engage and Gloria is excited
by the potential of such initiatives to broaden disciplinary conversations:
I’ve been really heartened by initiatives like The Conversation, which are
encouraging academics to write in a more publicly-focused way about
their research… Once you start writing for the public you realise “well
they don’t really care about my self-description about the finite debate
between me and some other disciplines.” They just want to know about
the ideas and if I can engage them at that level.
Gloria’s comments reflect philosophical beliefs about where knowledge in
society is located and who is granted access. They speak to traditional notions
of scholarly communications, where [new] knowledge faces inwards towards
academia, rather than being translated and mobilised for public consideration
and consumption (Given, Kelly, & Willson, 2015). With regard to research
question 1 — “how do academics who participate in community engagement
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activities conceive of their responsibility to the public?” — for Gloria, there is
clearly an imperative around public sharing and deliberation. However, this
was not a universally held belief as other participants questioned the value of
public contributions (like The Conversation), particularly with the worry that
such initiatives reduce scholarly rigour.
While some of the participants extolled the value of communicating
through lay publications, others were wary of the potential harm to one’s
academic reputation. Traci, a sociology senior lecturer in Australia, took issue
with the perceived value of The Conversation and described a “fight” she had
with the Australian Sociological Association (ASA) about the venue:
[ASA] send their newsletters, and they were listing Conversation articles
as journal articles. “Can you please not?” And so, every, every time it
comes out — it comes out every couple of weeks — it'd be eighty
percent Conversation pieces or blogs, and not articles. We're not doing
ourselves any favours, that we're not actually producing academic
output.
Traci worried that if The Conversation was valued by ASA in this way,
academics would be expected to produce pieces for it. Such writing would add
to academics’ workload but, Traci argued, such articles are “not actually
rewarded… Our universities aren't going to go, ‘wow you put two things in The
Conversation. Well that's great.’ That means nothing on the metrics that we’re
evaluated on.” Her disagreement with ASA resulted in the creation of a
“separate section [for non-academic pieces], so I was pleased about that.” She
continued:
I’d hate to see those two [types of writing] become equally regarded....
There's a generalised undermining of academic work, that it's just about
opinion and comment rather than science… that's irrelevant now. We're
doing it ourselves by saying The Conversation pieces are equal to journal
outputs.
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Balancing academic rigour and communicating simply to the public is a
challenging proposition that engaged scholars and institutions will have to
contend with to a greater degree in light of emerging engagement and impact
activities across higher education. Traci’s concern is that research publications
and pieces intended for the public should not be treated as equal. Similarly,
there have been many calls for academics to bridge the research-practice gap
(for example, Bansal, Bertels, Ewart, MacConnachie, & O’Brien, 2012; Dallyn,
Marinetto, & Cederström, 2015; Waddell et al., 2007). As Waddell et al. (2007)
suggestions, “research with relevance (or sufficient breadth) for policy makers
might lack rigour (or sufficient depth) for [academic] peers” (p. 188). Initiatives
such as the EI Assessment may further blur the line of what is constitutes
scholarship and may require further study in the coming years — research
particularly well suited for information science.
It is intriguing that The Conversation was brought up so readily by
Australian participants. Perhaps the mandate of The Conversation, the editorial
controls in place, and the site’s funding (at least in part by their individual
universities), mitigates some of the concerns that academics might have about
participating in print media. This is perhaps not surprising as The Conversation
was established specially to allay academic (and public) fears about how
research has been traditionally translated — and often mis-translated — in the
press by having academics and researchers themselves write the articles
(https://theconversation.com/au/10-ways-we-are-different).
Becher and Trowler (2001) discuss how academics are trained to apply
esoteric disciplinary language in set and specific ways and socialised to
disciplinary norms — ‘the way things are done.’ Media communication, for
many, falls outside of such conditioning. It is perhaps unsurprising that many
academics are not interested in media participation, but further investigation is
required because rewards structures and training almost certainly have some
role to play in what motivates academics to participate in media.
4.2.1.2 Print in Canada
Although The Conversation Canada had not yet launched when this
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research was conducted, Canadian participants did mention being featured in
local and national newspapers and other media. For example, Leon described
how a university-prepared media profile of his work was useful in making
people aware of his research: “I got profiled on the [local] daily news, so I got a
lot of publicity on campus, so people know I’m doing this [research].” However,
the exposure he received was to others in his academic community, not the
public as piece did not result in external media engagement. Many universities
prepare press releases and profile staff research in the hopes that external
outlets will pick up the stories, but there is no guarantee they will. There is no
guarantee that energy expended on media engagement will result in building
an audience, engaging in any substantive way, or producing social change.
However, for Kelli, one piece she wrote had reverberated throughout her
career. Following an initial article she wrote as both an academic and a fan of a
popular television show — as an exercise in exploring a particular theoretical
approach — she had been approached by media several times as an expert on
that television show. Kelli described:
I also got the most ridiculous news article I will ever be in about [TV
Show Name], because you know that one time you write an article about
[TV Show Name] fandom as a space of discourse in the Habermasian
tradition and then people call on you to comment on The [TV Show
Name] revival, and take a video of you.
In this way, Kelli described herself as “an accidental anthropologist of…
fan
communities.” Her public-facing activity resulted in additional media exposure
but, moreover, it also broadened her academic purview. She said, “fan
communities are full of interesting political discourse, and then it’s like ‘oh
wow, what am I doing now?’” While media engagement may be a one-off affair,
as it was for Leon, it also has the potential to create new and unexpected flow-
on opportunities, and connections with communities, as Kelli experienced.
Other participants reported contributing in various ways to newspapers
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(for comments from experts, penning op-eds, etc.). The two examples above are
provided to demonstrate the unexpected nature of media engagement. For
academics considering doing media engagement, the time commitment
required may not product tangible results, however it may also have a ripple
effect on one’s career. The path is not clear. Community-engaged academics
would do well to consider their media engagement goals to ensure that they
align with the philosophical beliefs of the role academics play in society.
Publicly-facing print participation is not universally valued amongst
academic researchers; where some saw tremendous opportunity to engage with
the public, others saw this type of writing as lacking academic rigour and taking
time away from academic pursuits (including time spent engaging with
communities in other ways). The motivation to participate in public discourse
through print is, at least to some extent, guided by disciplinary cultural norms.
Where writing in lay language in publicly accessible places is (according to
Irvin) an established norm in applied ethics, it may not have the same footing
for as an English scholar focused on 17th century literature.
4.2.2 Disciplinary and Individual Differences on Screen
Engagement with the public through television news outlets, radio, and
online video channels (e.g., YouTube) was also reported by participants. This
included being interviewed as experts by local TV stations, being involved in
regular on-air segments, and being approached for special projects. As with
most things in academia, there was significant range in the academics’
experiences.
Dale, a senior lecturer of English in Australia, recollected a long-term
engagement with a TV station when he was at previous institution:
I was working at [the] University one day, [a local TV station] rang up
and said we want you to come and review a movie… I said, “I don't really
want to do that” … And they said, “well what do you like to do.” I said, “I
like to talk about children's books.” [They responded], “Oh wow, we've
always wanted someone to do that.” And so, that started a period of
about, well, five years on [the station], and then another six years on
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[another station], of talking on radio and television to parents about
children's books.
Dale reflected on the importance of this work and why, in addition to his
academic responsibilities, he made time for it:
I was reaching a community. I realised that…you only had a spot of five
minutes, but you were reaching a million people, and that seemed to me
to be a really effective use of my time and ability…. Even now, twenty-
plus years later, I run into people who say, ‘oh wow, I remember what
you said on this.’ So, you realise it's very powerful.
That particular institution encouraged Dale’s media activities throughout his
time there, “[the administrators] thought it was really a big plus, because it
meant that you were constantly before the public, and [the] university was
attached too.” Universities are often eager to have positive media exposure, but
often do not reward their academics for such activities. Chapman et al. (2014)
found that public health researchers were split on how they perceived
universities reward media engagement. While the majority suggested that
rewards were limited to research and teaching activities, other participants
“remarked that this neglect was fading fast, with universities highlighting and
rewarding their media-active staff and requiring researchers to keep records of
media appearances for institutional profiles” (p. 269). Additional research is
needed into how academics’ media activities are acknowledged and reward.
Irrespective of rewards, Dale reflected that with this media platform he had to
be cautious and intentional about how he was representing the institution:
I learned early on that I had to tread very carefully because there were
sensitivities… I would never have gone on television and slagged off [the]
university… I would be cautious about what I said. I wouldn't lie, but I
would just avoid the negative things. And so, in a sense I was useful to
them.
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Dale’s acknowledgement of the power relationship between himself and the
institution is worth nothing. Academic freedom should, in principle, afford
academics like Dale the ability to publicly critique his institution without fear
of reprisal or penalty. A discussion of academic freedom as it relates to
engagement follows in Section 0.
Dale’s case illustrates some of the many considerations that academics
might take into account when deciding to, or deciding against, participating in
visual media. For many, the risks — including issues related to institutional
reputation — may outweigh the rewards.
For Abdul, there was considerable potential risk as his expertise —
positioned at the intersections of queer and Muslim communities — was
contentious. He described the creation of a that was produced by his university
to highlight his community-engaged work in LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual,
trans) Muslim communities.:
What happened was that [a woman] … from the communications
department … approached me, couple years ago, to do a feature on
pride, because [my university] has a presence in the pride parade. And
so, she approached me to do an article on Muslim LGBT issues, and the
topic, the headline was, "not everything has changed,” … [as] pockets of
ethnic minority LGBT groups out there…they’re still hoping for change.
So, she did something on that. And so, a year later, and then they get
back to me and they say, "we would like [to produce a video about your
work].”
This video served several functions, both for the institution and for Abdul. For
the university, it showcased the academic and social justice activities of one of
their staff; the resulting media exposure reflected positively on the institution.
For Abdul, the video provided exposure that raised his academic profile as an
outspoken expert in the area. Perhaps more importantly, it gave him a platform
to communicate with the public and with the Muslim community. He said, “I
have tried to push the conversation, and I have pushed the human rights
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activists within the Muslim community as well, and pushing them on their
blind spots, as well, on this particular issue.”
The video, and resulting media exposure, was particularly useful for
communicating with the broader Muslim community as his efforts to work
with leaders in the local community had largely been unsuccessful. He
described how his insights as a scholar were seen as valuable in the Muslim
community when he was engaged on other issues, but when it came to queer
considerations, the community would not engage:
Whenever there was a discrimination against a minority Muslim group,
the Ahmadiyya for instance, they are persecuted like hell, they get killed.
So, I would speak on their issues. And they [leaders in the Muslim
community] would be, “you [are] doing well.” But when they found out
what my viewpoints were on the LGBT issues then I got the cold
shoulder. And nobody wanted to do anything with me after that. And so,
I was by myself. So, I did not get support from any of these community
leaders.
The video gave Abdul the opportunity to connect and share his knowledge in a
way that working within the community had failed to deliver. While his story
and expertise were at the centre of the video feature, it was not an initiative he
launched; the media division at his institution was the mobilising force that
recruited him and paid to have this resource developed. The video was the
culmination of various media efforts that Abdul had participated in over a
period of time.
Abdul’s case showcases how important university media divisions can be
— particularly in a networked world — where universities have the capacity to
publish and promote materials externally (e.g., through their YouTube and
other social channels). The university media division had circumvented
traditional media by producing their own content but, in time, the story was
also picked up by local stations that highlighted the research and Abdul’s
activities in the community. Traditional media may have a limited appetite for
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certain types of research, so the efforts of internal media divisions can provide
an external platform where one might otherwise not exist. Support from media
divisions however is not ubiquitous, this is explored further in Section 5.2.1,
where university support mechanisms for engagement is discussed broadly.
The ability to participate in screen media is predicated on a number of
individual and institutional factors, including university support (e.g., press
releases, connections to media, university website researcher profiles), personal
connections, personality, personal desire, and skill. Additionally, there are
factors that extend beyond the control of universities and researchers,
including media understanding of research, university reputation, and media
prioritisation of research (i.e., some research stories have more ‘teeth’ than
others for broadcast).
4.2.3 Social Media: “I Definitely Use it Strategically”
Social media tools (e.g., Twitter; Facebook; YouTube) can be used by
academics to engage with communities (or more broadly, the public) in a
variety of ways, from highly-structured and time-consuming use (e.g.
cultivating a public persona, being highly responsive, and pursuing additional
media opportunities through social media) to minimally engaged activity (e.g.,
staying abreast of trends by reading relevant posts, lurking on others’
conversations). In this section, participants’ reflections on a range of social
media involvement and how their institutions have positioned social media as
an approach to external engagement are explored.
Nathaniel, an assistant professor of English in Canada, discussed how he
used social media to engage in disciplinary conversations and to communicate
with others in his discipline. However, he also acknowledged his awareness that
it was a public-facing activity, saying “I realise that it’s a public space and
anyone could read it.” With his status as a pre-tenure academic, he was aware
of the potential consequences of being too provocative in the public social
space:
I’m attuned to the fact that I’m pre-tenure… There’s a certain amount of
precarity, such that I would certainly not want to.... venture into too
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provocative a space that could potentially put me at risk… It’s something
that I’m aware of and cautious about… Yes, I get nerdily excited about
things, I want to have fangirl moments, and fine, but I also want to
maintain a relatively professional profile on social media.
Although Nathaniel indicated that his activities on social media have not been
governed by a specific university policy, and that he has not received specific
guidance from his department or faculty about best use, he was still concerned
about potential negative consequences of this type of engagement. “I haven’t
received any specific mentorship to do with... you know, social media training
or anything like that,” he said, adding, “I definitely use it strategically.”
Nathaniel’s experience relates to how academics understand and enact
academic freedom, which is discussed below.
Media and communications professor Gloria was at the opposite end of
the spectrum from Nathaniel. She described being a frequent social media user
with several thousand followers and discussed the mixed messages that her
institution has sent about social media use. Her university launched a social
media ‘command centre’ with the expressed purpose of being highly responsive
to comments made on social media channels. Many universities have created
social media teams within the media divisions, but often the driving motivation
behind their activities are related to student experience, including recruitment
and retention (Peruta & Shields, 2017, 2018; Pringle & Fritz, 2018). Gloria called
the command centre “such an oxymoron it’s not funny. It’s hilariously mis-
named,” in that the university had very little command over social media and
how to best use it. Further frustrating Gloria was that “they’ve tried to shut
down a number of academics [where] the interpretation is that their tweets
have been marginally inappropriate.” She told that “one of my colleagues was
stood down for [several] months while an investigation occurred. And another
one has had a warning issued to them.” It makes one wonder who or what the
command centre is for?
The risk of a punitive reaction from one’s university may make the
participation in social media minimally attractive. Research question 3 (see
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section 1.6) is concerned with how community engaged scholars might inform
those are not engaging publicly. Stories like Gloria’s may make the perceived
risk of social media participation may outweigh the perceived rewards for those
scholars not currently using social media as a community engagement
modality.
Like Gloria, Sarah indicated that the institution wanted academics to be
using social media; unlike Gloria, she saw little value in it. She noted that
although staff were being “encouraged” to use social media, but said “there’s no
way I have time to do tweeting… [And] I hate this idea that you put yourself out
there, that’s not my personality… I did have a Twitter account, I’ve never used
it.” For Sarah, social media was not seen as a priority. Her decision was not
based on a perceived risk of punitive response from her institution for social
media activities, she just felt it did not align with her personality.
While universities may want academics to be engaging with media
(social and traditional), there is the perception that they are also monitoring it
(such as through what Gloria called “the command centre”) and admonishing
staff for media activities that they feel are inappropriate. There is little question
that social media is firmly entrenched in society — particularly Facebook
(2004) and Twitter (2006) — yet a consensus of acceptable use for academics
has yet to emerge. There are cases in a variety of jurisdictions where academics
have been censured or reprimanded for their social media activity (Bateman,
2017) so it is hardly surprising that academics, such as non-tenured Nathaniel
and others in this study, are wary and cautious about how best to use these
tools. Academics will continue to grapple with how they interact with social
media and the role it plays in their understanding of what it means to be a
community-engaged academic.
4.2.4 Academic Freedom: Media Engagement Ambiguity
Several of the participants’ experiences in media point to questions of
how academic freedom is understood and applied. In theory, academic freedom
should afford academics the capacity to speak publicly on topics that are
relevant and related to their areas of expertise (for explorations of academic
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freedom see: Altbach, 2001; Bexley, James, & Arkoudis, 2011; Finkin & Post, 2011;
Horn, 1999; Kish, 2010; Slaughter & Leslie, 1997). In the Australian context, it is
in fact a legislated requirement: “the higher education provider has a clearly
articulated higher education purpose that includes a commitment to and
support for free intellectual inquiry in its academic endeavours” (Higher
Education Standards Framework, 2015). Additionally, many universities have
academic freedom statutes built into their governance policies and/or
enterprise agreements (Gelber, 2018). In Canada, where universities are
provincially managed, academic freedom is provisioned through university
collective agreements (Lynk, 2014).
Media participation can be, as Dale had described, “useful” to the
university but, as several participants experienced, there can be tension around
the autonomy with which academics operate. Norton and Cherastidtham (2014)
note that while academic freedom should, in theory, extend to all three pillars
of academic work (i.e., research, teaching, and what they call community
engagement), it is often not the case. While research and teaching have
regulatory structures formalised around them in the form of peer review and
academic boards, no such structures exist for service, the third pillar (Norton
and Cherastidtham, 2014). As a result, “university administrations sometimes
try to perform this role, and dismiss or discipline academics who make
controversial or embarrassing public statements. Such actions almost always
attract strong criticism, as academics do not see this as a legitimate role for
managers” (Norton & Cherastidtham, 2014, p. 15).
Perceptions of the ramifications of social media use also raise questions
concerning how academic freedom is applied to social media content. In an
American context, fewer than one quarter of universities provide policy
guidance to academics around social media use (Pomerantz, Hank, &
Sugimoto, 2015). The protections afforded to social media activities under the
umbrella of academic freedom remain contested and clarity of how universities
will treat cases of academically inappropriate posting(s) is being dealt with on a
case-by-case basis rather than through policy guidance (Thompson, 2014).
As universities come to terms with community engagement, one of the
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critical considerations is how they will attend to individual’s activities,
particularly in traditional and digital media. If academics do not feel
comfortable to comment publicly on their expertise with the support of their
institutions, the value proposition for participation is minimal as the potential
risks may outweigh the rewards. There is little impetus to engage publicly
through media, but individual philosophies of engagement (discussed in
Section Error! Reference source not found.) propel engaged scholars to
occupy this space.
4.2.5 Conclusions on Media Engagement
Participants reported on in engagement through media in a number of
ways, including “falling into” media opportunities through serendipitous
connections. Several participants reported minimal interest in media
participation for a variety of reasons, whereas others had a desire to participate
in traditional media but felt they lacked the necessary skills or personality
traits. The ways in which participants believed their universities were
under/resourcing media engagement are detailed in Section 5.2.1.
There is considerable scholarship that deals with media and
communications training for scientists (for example, Bentley & Kyvik, 2011;
Besley, 2015; Ecklund, James, & Lincoln, 2012; Mizumachi, Matsuda, Kano,
Kawakami, & Kato, n.d.; Neresini & Bucchi, 2011; Poliakoff & Webb, 2007; Ruth,
Lundy, Telg, & Irani, 2005), yet there is considerably less academic research
concerning the media activities of humanities and social science scholars. This
is an area where additional research is needed, specifically on the role of media
training in relation to public dissemination. While many of the skills developed
through social science and humanities training overlap with media
competencies, there are gaps that are currently not generally addressed
through graduate training or professional development. As media engagement
is a potential pathway to societal impact, this deficit may see additional
scholarly focus and institutional resourcing in the coming years.
As introduced in Chapter 2, Orr (2010) suggests that academics may also
suffer from mediaphobia and identifies three traits of news media that may put
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academics off of participating:
[1] The media’s short attention span and the churning of news cycles; [2]
the media’s preference for the scandalous or titillating, over
considerations such as public policy; and [3] the media’s elevation of
opinion into analysis. (p. 28)
If academics are indeed mediaphobic, it raises questions of how universities are
preparing graduate students for media participation, how academic staff are
encouraged and supported to participate in media, and what other efforts
might be taken to reduce mediaphobia (explored in Section 5.2.1).
As with other aspects of engagement, the experience of each academic in
public-facing media is unique and is influenced by their research, disciplinary
and university-level cultural norms, professional and personal priorities, and
even the RPT structures within their institutions. These findings reinforce
Acord and Harley (2012)’s research showing that credit, time, and personality
were seen as significant barriers to moving away from more traditional forms of
scholarly communication (see Section 2.1.3 for more on their study). Where
little credit is given for external media activities and where additional workload
time is not allocated for such engagement, researchers may not prioritise these
activities. In the end, however, Acord and Harley (2012) found an individual’s
personality (particularly those willing to share in-progress research findings) to
be the driving motivator of participation in engagement activities, which may
be a more difficult barrier to overcome based on a variety of factors including
disciplinary norms, training, and local academic culture. There were no
universal trends amongst research participants with regards to writing for the
public — some did it, others did not. Like so many activities in academia,
participation in print media came down largely to personal beliefs and
individual motivation. How universities might support additional media
activities are explored in Section 5.2.1.
Several potential barriers to media participation were raised by the
participants such as insufficient, inconsistent, or absent reward structures; a
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lack of support, training, and guidance for media engagement; a risk of negative
response from the public; and potential punitive action from universities who
may argue that comments made in media are not protected by academic
freedom or fall outside of an academic’s purview. The lack of institutional
support and/or the unknown ways that the institution will respond to media
activities can hinder academics’ willingness to engage, with many academics
choosing to focus on clearly defined and supported activities such as research
and teaching activities. For the risk-averse academic, media participation could
be seen as unnecessarily risky, as well as time-consuming and not well
rewarded.
Overall, for institutions looking to solidify media engagement activities,
these participants’ experiences show that attention should be paid to the
expectations of both academics and the institution. Where expectations are
high for external engagement through media, academics likely require training
opportunities, sufficient time allocation for this work, and to be recognised and
rewarded for their contributions. It is also important that administrators not
make unilateral decisions about media use but rather acknowledge that
individuals and disciplines will have different relationships with, and
expectations of the scope of, media engagement.
4.3 Motivations to Engage: It is all About the Community
In light of research question 1, “how do academics who participate in
community engagement activities conceive of their responsibility to the
public?”, this section explores participants’ motivations for conducting
community engagement activities, the shape those engagements took, and how
those interactions contribute to an understanding of what it means to be an
academic. This is central to this research — what does it mean to be a
community-engaged HSS academic and how does community engagement
contribute to identity formation. For some, community was at the centre of
their academic lives and vital to not only their research, but also to their
understanding of what it meant to be an academic. At the other end of the
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spectrum, community was engaged through public channels (media, for
example) but was not a primary consideration. Some participants were ‘in’ and
‘of’ the community (e.g., social justice activities where the participant was
themselves impacted as a member of the community), whereas others were ‘for’
the community (e.g., conducting advocacy work). These are notably different
conceptions of engaged scholarship that have implications for how community
engagement is understood.
A number of factors motivate scholars to work with various communities
and with the public. For example, some disciplines are firmly grounded in
conducting research with communities (e.g., archaeology, women’s studies,
social work), so conducting community-engagement activities is a natural fit
and an expected component of an academics’ role. For other disciplines,
expressions of community engagement are predicated on an individual
academic’s own philosophy of the role of universities and academics in society.
Participants reflected on their academic work, the connection of that
work to community (e.g. embedded, external, etc.), and their motivation(s) for
pursuing community-engaged activities. The scholarship of engagement (that
is, writing and research concerned with community engagement) has been
embroiled in an ongoing debate about how to codify and define ‘community
engagement’ since the term was coined (for example: Allen, 2009; Arvanitakis &
Hodge, 2012; Dempsey, 2010; Glass, Doberneck, & Schweitzer, 2011; Sandmann,
2008). A key question in that debate is whether the researcher has to adopt an
engaged approach (e.g., community-based participatory research) to their
research for a project to be considered as community engagement?
Discussions of how engagement is defined may be of interest to
engagement scholars, policy makers, and administrators, but the debate is
perhaps unnecessarily pedantic. As illustrated in Section 4.1, there was certainly
no clear consensus of what constituted engagement from the study participants
— aside from a difference being made for a community of some definition
(from a small Indigenous group to the broader general public). Does being
mired in the minutia of internal debate progress the project of engagement or
hinder it? Perhaps getting past definitions and focusing rather on motivations
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for conducting community engagement work is more illuminating as to the
value of those interactions.
Community engagement rhetoric has become commonplace across the
university sector and features heavily in strategic plans and other institutional
guiding documents and policies. Yet, for some academics, being in the
community doing engagement activities may be contrary to the job they
thought they had signed up for and, moreover, beyond their skill or ability.
While the basis of this section is focused on why some scholars participate in
community engagement activities, it is also worth considering why some
academics may choose not to engage. Factors that demotivate engagement are
also considered.
4.3.1 It is About Making a Difference
While participants’ approaches to research differed, their motivation for
pursuing the research was never purely out of self-interest. They chose to work
with communities, in whatever shape that took, for the good of that
community. As Sarah, in the field of education, noted,
What drives me is trying to make the world a better place for children
and their families, and trying to improve the outcomes for children, and
particularly those from disadvantaged and vulnerable backgrounds…
Whatever I do is somehow connected to that in some way, it’s always
connected that that. So, I work with educators to change practice… I try
and do research that will inform policy, or inform organisations, so I do
a lot of commissioned research with organisations, partitioner research
or embedded research in organisations, so I try and, try and make a
difference that way.
Change that occurs as a result of her work is the culmination of a series of
engagements over many years. Sarah’s comments are emblematic of a thread
that ran through the interviews, that research with (or within) community can
lead to real change. Making a difference in this way provides positive
reinforcement of the value of the work being conducted. While Sarah’s work is
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not embedded directly within community (in the form of, for example, action
research), it does deliver net benefit for the community and that is what
motivates her. Identity is shaped, in part, by the activities we engage in (Van
Knippenberg, 2000) and the participants’ academic identity is linked with the
communities they work with, and the difference that work makes.
Camille considered the work she does with community a refreshing
tonic to some of her other academic responsibilities. Engagement is not
necessarily a selfless act; while there are benefits for the community, Camille
illustrated that it also benefited her:
Sometimes I can expend a huge amount of energy on some of these
engagements, if they feed me intellectually, you know, holistically, then I
can keep doing them… Most the time these kinds of [engagement]
things make me feel alive… Some activities that happen within the
academy that are, they take the oxygen out of the room… In some ways I
connect with community [and] it's oxygenating… [it] brings oxygen into
the room.
Engagement activities with community not only advance her scholarly
contributions, but they give her meaning and her motivation to maintain these
activities comes from her commitment to the community as well as the
personal. This is consistent with O’Meara (2008), who found academics were
motivated to conduct community engagement because of social issues in
communities that the engagement activities addressed.
Leon expressed how his work in community was motivated, at least in
part, by the acknowledgement of his work by colleagues:
Researchers are motivated intrinsically by their research questions and
contributions. They’re not motivated by the dollar value. If we were, we
wouldn’t be in academia. We’d be inventing things and running
corporations if we wanted to make money. Here we’re just trying to
further knowledge, develop new insights in your little area. So that’s the
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reward, being recognised by your peers. Not so much about an obscure
journal and some list that you don’t care about.
Leon’s research contributions are centred on community and his reflections on
this point to an internal motivation for pursuing research that matters and
contributes to the world and the community around him. His comments, as
with many other, reflect a deep connection to the research and the population
it is intended to improve the conditions for/of/with. Participants found peer
acknowledgement of scholarly activities and contributions highly rewarding,
which is consistent with Job Characteristics Theory, which suggests that job
performance is related to a variety of factors outside of remuneration
(Hackman & Oldham, 1976). Specifically, job satisfaction often relates highly to
feeling valued for contributions made through work and the positive feedback
of colleagues (Hackman & Oldham, 1976). While some universities may be
looking to incentivise engagement more robustly, for some community-
engaged academics the work is reward enough.
4.3.2 Influencer, Advocate, Activist
For some academics, responsibility to the public is considered a core
function of their academic research. Put simply, research should make life
better for people. Meredith, who studies telecommunications, discussed how
she envisions her responsibility to the public:
The public is everything… It really is about universal access, it is about
this idea of public interest, which we struggle —those of us who work in
this area — struggle to define and we struggle in some ways to define
what our role is because we’re not advocates.
How academics see themselves as either knowledge arbiters or advocates is not
universal. Meredith’s mode of engagement with the public is not direct; rather,
it comes through conducting research to guide policy which improves
conditions for the public. As she describes it:
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At one point I was … talking about some of the research we’d done on
youth and seniors, and the commissioner asked me something along the
lines of "so as an advocate for these populations" and I responded by
saying "I’m not an advocate. What I’m trying to do is present research to
help you understand the experience of these particular groups of people
because we don’t think they’re represented here." But I think what my
colleagues and I are trying to do really is influence policy in a way that
benefits the public writ large.
There are internal tensions in the way she is defined her role. While Meredith
does not want to be seen as an advocate, at the same time she wants to
influence policy to benefit the public. She negotiates this tension by being an
objective third party when dealing with policy-creating bodies, rather than
speaking on behalf of community (or the public). Her academic identity is, in
part, shaped by how she envisions her role within academia and the public.
How academics see themselves and their role is largely related to
embedded disciplinary epistemologies. Established academic disciplines tend to
exercise academic gatekeeping in order to maintain the disciplinary norms
(Stanley, 1990). Where some disciplines (for example, queer and feminist
studies) have social justice built into their core epistemological values
(O’Meara, 2008), other disciplines (particularly those centred on positivist
frameworks) tend to avoid advocacy as it can be seen as at odds with notions of
objectivity. While there have been recent calls (for example, Green, 2018;
Patterson, 2014; Woodgett, 2018) for academics to adopt more activist stances,
it remains to be seen how, or if, the status quo will be challenged in any
profound way.
Some participants saw their role as creating new knowledge to be shared
and applied within communities in order to promote social justice. Community
engagement for Abdul was seen to be an extension of his academic
responsibilities in the context of his service responsibilities, which took a
decidedly activist role concerning queer Muslims. He described how he
intended to mobilise his scholarly work into the community:
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I have honed the theological arguments, now the challenge is to
disseminate this information in public, through blogs, through
workshops, which I’m already doing. And so, what’s going to happen in
the future is my service component with the university will include a
heavy component of my community work, it’s going to go there. And I’m
happy, I’d rather do this then sit on ridiculous committees.
Abdul, along with other participants, saw their role as being advocates who
support their views through amassed evidence for the benefit of community.
Abdul’s comments reflect a variety of motivators discussed by O’Meara (2008),
including those based on commitment to a social issue (p. 17),
personal/professional identity (p. 18), and institutional type and mission (p. 22).
Abdul’s experience is an exemplar of the complex nature of motivators of
engagement work. The motivations for conducting engagement activities often
do not fit into discrete categories. Rather, there is considerably complexity
imbued with within each activity.
4.3.3 Conclusions on Motivations to Engage
This discussion of how and where academics fit within community and
the active role they take is at the heart of Boyer's (1990, 1996) scholarship of
engagement argument — i.e., that academics should be engaging with
community in all aspects of their academic lives. The ways that academics
engage varies by individual, by discipline, by unit, by university, and
geographically. There are many factors at play that facilitate increased or
decreased engagement in community, including the factors that motivate
researchers. What is clear from the participants in this study is that there is
virtually no uniformity when it comes to engagement activities or the
motivations for pursuing those activities. There is no single right way to be an
academic. As such, while there may be similarities between participants with
their identity formation as community-engaged scholars, each individuals’
circumstances contribute uniquely. To that end, understanding the motivations
that drive individual academics to conduct engagement is critically important.
Universities brandishing the flag of engagement would be well advised to first
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understand the myriad of complexities in the engagement space, which this
research begins to elucidate.
There are two general trajectories in participants’ descriptions of their
motivation for undertaking community engagement activities (leaving aside
those activities relating to teaching). The first is related to research, or the
creation of new knowledge with or through community. The second is how new
knowledge is mobilised and shared with community (or the public). How an
academic perceives where engagement sits in their academic portfolio is an
interesting question that has implications for how institutions might look to
more adequately resource it. What motivates engaged scholars to do
community engagement work is also critical for understanding the types of
resources and supports required to foster a community-engaged environment.
For some researchers, the support needed will be during the research phase,
while for others it will be in the knowledge translation and mobilisation phase;
many will require support for all phases. How universities resource, or fail to
resource, supports for community-engaged scholars is considered in Chapter 5.
4.4 Conclusion to Chapter 4
The role that academics play in communities, in the public, and more
generally in society leads to broader questions about the role of universities and
the importance of knowledge (including funding knowledge creation,
exploration, application, and dissemination). As Dean of a faculty with a focus
on scholarly community engagement, Jane spelled out her philosophy of how
universities are structured and the role they should play in mobilising
knowledge, saying “this is a faculty and a faculty has scholars and if it doesn’t
have scholars, then you’re not a faculty. And what scholars do, they mobilise
what they learn so other people can use it, if you’re not mobilising it, you know,
what’s the point?” The fundamental question — what is the purpose of a
university? — is the measure by which all subsequent thinking about
engagement is predicated. If universities do indeed exist for the public good
then, logically, those who work at universities and the work they do should be
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an extension of that mission. How the work being done in universities
contributes to the public good, and the access that the public has to that
information, is contentious within engagement scholarship. The concept of
impact or social impact — discussed in Chapter 5: — is one possible outcome in
demonstrating how universities are serving the public.
Community-engaged scholars often approach research that addresses
social problems in communities for personal or emotional reasons (Clifford &
Petrescu, 2012). Conceiving of engaged scholars in this way reminds us how
multi-layered and nuanced engaged scholarship is and provides insight for how
universities looking to strengthen their community engagement strategy might
move forward. Identifying and understanding the barriers faced by academics
desiring to conduct community-engaged research is crucial to removing those
barriers to better support engaged scholars in navigating pathways to
community.
This chapter explored the motivations of scholars to conduct community
engagement activities and how those activities impact their academic
identities. The rationale to engage in community was, to some extent,
determined by what they understood the concepts of both engagement and
community to be; there was a wide range of understandings across participants
as to what engagement was. The participants’ understanding of their role in
community also ranged considerably, from advocate to influencer, from
embedded member to external ally. Researchers acquired information about
community engagement from a variety of courses including formal networks,
informal networks, community, information chaining with colleagues, and
through serendipitous connections.
While this chapter explored the ‘what’ and ‘why’ Chapter 5 explores ‘how’
participants conduct engagement activities in their local contexts and presents
the factors within universities that either facilitate or present barriers to
engagement activities.
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Chapter 5: Discussions and Findings
Institutional Priorities: Disincentives for Engagement
While the previous chapter explored participants’ experiences of
engagement, this chapter examines the context of the university and how
community engagement-inclusive policy, management (senior executives and
line managers), and support divisions can not only promote but propel the
engagement activities of academics.
Universities are not homogenous spaces and there is a suite of
circumstances unique to each situation (for example, institution type, location,
disciplinary norms, historic mission, longevity, etc.) that can support or hinder
the engagement activities of an academic. The conditions for supporting or
hindering community engagement activities vary tremendously; factors include
the size of the institution, the mission of the institution, support from
administration, collegial supports (in some cases, communities of practice),
availability and/or responsive of support units (knowledge translation,
knowledge mobilisation, commercialisation, media, communications, research
office, library, etc.), funding for engagement activities, policy frameworks, and
processes for annual reports, promotion, and tenure (RPT). The rationale for
conducting community work (discussed in Chapter 4:) notwithstanding, we
also need to understand of how institutions can better support engagement.
The findings and discussion demonstrate a number of actions that
universities may wish to consider in furthering community engagement in their
local contexts. This chapter also considers the various barriers and systemic
challenges that academics face in community engagement. Put simply, the
chapter asks the question, how do HSS scholars enact community engagement
in their local university contexts? It addresses the following research questions:
Table 5.1: Research Questions
1a. How do academics balance community engagement activities with their teaching, research, and service requirements?
2. What supports are required in order to do community engagement work?
a. What are the information activities related to community
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engagement work? b. What role does the institution play in supporting or hindering
community engagement work? 3. How might academics who engage in community engagement activities
inform academics who are not engaging in such activities? 4. What are the information behaviours (e.g., information needs,
seeking, use) of academics who participate in community engagement activities?
5.1 Influencing Community Engagement Through Academic Leadership
Institutions can provide support for community engagement activities in
a variety of ways. Section 5.1 explores the influences of all levels of academic
leadership.
One of the main mechanisms at a university’s disposal to encourage
engagement activity is through the processes by which academics are
acknowledged and rewarded, to be addressed in Section 5.1.1. Depending on the
institution, many different terms are adopted and applied to the review,
promotion, and tenure processes; for the sake of brevity, this process will be
referred to as RPT. Where a distinction is required (for example, between an
annual report and applying for tenure) it will be clarified. The literature (see
Section 2.4.3) points to engagement generally not being acknowledged or
rewarded in RPT processes and participant contributions painted a similar
picture. When it comes to understanding the experience of being an engaged
HSS scholar — as this research seeks to do — it cannot be done without
considering this key component of academic life.
While RPT processes are set by administration and impact academics
across universities, participants also reflected on the value that individual
senior executives and line managers play in supporting and promoting their
engagement activities. Section 5.1.2 considers the role of such individuals in
encouraging, enabling, or ensuring they were able to conduct community
engagement activities.
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5.1.1 De/valuing Community Engagement Through Policy and RPT
Processes
In spite of gains in academic discourse for the legitimacy of community
engagement as scholarly work, there remains a disconnect between what is
seen by academics as constituting engagement and what is rewarded. Smith,
Else, and Crookes (2014) point out that “while engagement is increasingly
recognised by the academic community as scholarly work, few are yet sure how
to evidence their own engagement work in a recognized scholarly format” (pg.
14). The participants’ reflections on RTP structures echo this disconnect. A
persistent theme in this research is the complexity that exists across and within
universities and academic disciplines. The structures behind how academics are
acknowledged and rewarded are wildly diverse and unique to each country,
institution, and often discipline. Academics also work within a broader global
system of disciplinary expectations that may or may not be well reflected in
local, institutional reward systems. Even within institutions, there is little
consistency to how RPT is carried out. To some degree, this is to be expected
and even practical; the metrics by which progress and success are measured are
going to be necessarily different between, for example, a philosopher and a
mathematician. Similarly, acknowledging and rewarding community
engagement poses a unique challenge for universities and the scholarly
community at large.
This section describes participants’ perceptions of the reward structures
at their institutions, particularly those pertaining to RPT. In the research
design, it was envisaged that publicly sharable documents acquired from
participants and from university websites would be triangulated with
participant reflections to come to a robust understanding of the space. The
documents most germane to this section can be broadly defined as RPT
guidelines. Unfortunately, a majority of the participants were unable to provide
their institution’s RPT guidelines, with a consistent refrain from participants
saying they were unable to provide certain documents because they were
contained within the intranet and hence available only to university staff). As
Traci in Australia exclaimed, “I was looking through what I could send you in
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terms of documentation, but pretty much everything’s behind a firewall.” This
lack of transparency made it challenging to triangulate the data.
What emerged through the interview process was the complexity of
academic reward structures and the associated documentation that shape and
inform an academic’s career progression, such as documents from various levels
the organisational hierarchy within the university, as well as disciplinary and
government groups, such as grant funders (see Table 5.2: Engagement
Guidance Documents).
Table 5.2: Engagement Guidance Documents
Discipline
Government
University
Faculty (or division, school,
centre, unit, department, etc.)
x publishing guidelines
x funding agency guidelines
x federal legislation x state/provincial
legislation x funding agency
guidelines x research
assessment guidelines
x collective bargaining agreements
x various university policies
x university visioning statements
x research office policies (systems and processes to monitor and report research activity)
x RPT guidelines
x local research policy (including priority areas)
x RPT guidelines and guidance
The table above is not exhaustive, as there are a variety of other documents that
may be situationally applicable to engaged scholars.
For Kristine, an associate professor of education in Canada, the
institution’s mission played a key role in her tenure application, which was
initially denied by her faculty. Tenure appeals are heard by an institutional
body, rather than at the faculty level, and at that level her work was seen as
being fully in line with the goals of the university. She explained the ordeal:
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My faculty turned it [tenure] down… The committee was split in their
vote [so] … then the VP academic, and a committee of my peers from
across the university met… they reviewed my file, and unanimously
voted that they didn’t need to meet with me, they didn’t have any
question. They said yes [to my tenure application]. And I think part of
that is because it [community engagement] is the institutional mission,
it’s not the faculty mission.
In this case, it was not the RPT processes that permitted her to achieve tenure,
but rather the institutional mission — an overarching policy framework. Her
tenure application would not have been approved had it not been for the
alignment of her work to the mission of the university. Kristine’s experience is a
rather extreme example of just how important the mission of the university can
be to academics.
Policy can help shape how academics approach their work allocations.
However, knowing what policies, and localised practices, exist and where to
find them can pose a challenge. Traci discovered little-known, unadvertised
documentation specific to her school that permitted academics to use up to 10
percent of their allocated research time for community engagement activities.
Though she was happy this allocation existed she problematised it, saying:
Unless you ask for that, it’s not stated. So, nobody actually knows about
that and there is no definition of what that [community engagement
allocation] is. But it’s for things like meeting with community partners,
disseminating things… [but] this is just our school’s informal, loosely
assembled policy.
This lack of clarity was not unique to Traci’s experience. Several participants
discussed how information within their institutions was often difficult to
locate, that there were inconsistencies across the different levels of the
organisation (for example, a school’s informal or guiding practices and the
university’s formal policies), or that there were different versions of the same
documents spread across university websites. Willson (2016) found that
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employee-facing documents tended to be used infrequently, with academics
(ECRs in the case of her study) preferring to rely on collegial information
sharing rather than policy and procedure documents from the university. In
essence, where a policy might exist, it might not be known or read.
Clear research output requirements were occasionally challenging to
ascertain and varied considerably (both in specificity and rigour) across
participants. Some were required to bring in a certain amount of funding and
produce a minimum number of publications within a given time in order
maintain their research allocation (alternatively, taking on more teaching),
whereas other participants had considerably more flexibility (some were not
required to apply for grants, for example). Again, there are a range of
requirements based on university mission and an individuals’
role/position/rank.
Policy relating to RPT processes, examined in Section 5.1, plays a critical
role in careers development. Wilson, who is in senior administration in Canada,
asserted felt that engagement should be more heavily embedded within RPT
policy. He pointed out that “unless we internally understand [community
engagement] and validate it, it doesn’t happen.” Additionally, participants
provided suggestions of how their institutions are either responding to, or
ignoring, engagement as it pertains to RPT. These reflections provide valuable
insights into how intuitions can consider acknowledging and rewarding the
engagement activities of their scholars. One of the tensions inherent in
including community engagement in the way that academics are assessed in
the RPT process is definitional. As previously explored (see Section 4.1.1), the
definition of community engagement is, at best, murky, and it can vary
dramatically within and across universities. The RPT process is complex, but by
documenting the complexity, we can begin to better understand it and envisage
potential solutions that include community engagement.
In examining in this section how participants generally view the RPT
processes, for most just it was another administrative requirement. As with so
many aspects of their academic existence, they ‘played the game’ and adapted
to the conditions in order to succeed/proceed. Participants stressed the
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importance placed on teaching and research, often to the exclusion of
community engagement activities. As universities adopt new approaches to
include community engagement in their RPT structures participants outlined
some of the difficulties encountered through that process., reflecting on
changes at their universities as they move from visioning statements in support
of community engagement, to changes in policy to explicitly support it through
RPT processes.
5.1.1.1 What counts as Community Engagement? Definitional RPT Issues
RPT are typically based on activities related to the three general pillars
of teaching, research, and service. Although Canadian participants used the
term “service” consistently, Australian participants indicated that their
universities had adopted a variety of terms to use in place of service as the third
pillar. Some of these terms included ‘administration,’ ‘community,’ ‘community
engagement,’ and more broadly encompassing phrases such as ‘service to the
community’ and ‘external engagement activities.’ When the term used was
‘community engagement,’ the activities generally associated with service
(committee work, association work) tended to be subsumed under the
‘community’ title. This interpretation of community engagement is not
consistent with frameworks proposed by the likes of Boyer’s (1990, 1996),
Barker (2004), or Holland (1997), where community engagement is exclusive of
internally-facing activity (e.g., sitting on a campus-based committee). Indeed,
institutions that substitute ‘service’ for ‘community engagement’ without
attending to how community engagement is conceived of within the
scholarship are merely paying lip service without substantive change to their
structures. They may say they embrace community engagement, but it is simply
replicating the previous model with a new name.
This definitional ambiguity is not unique to Australia. In a cross-Canada
analysis of RPT processes associated with community engagement, Barreno et
al., (2013) found, “the language that was uncovered revealed a rather fractured
understanding of core concepts, a tendency to mix community-based research
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with voluntarism, and highly uneven application of standards and expectations”
(p. 11).
When participants were asked what sorts of activities they included in
each of the three pillars, there were a wide variety of responses. Emily discussed
a range of activities she classified as “community:”
I got promoted last year to senior lecturer, and the selection criteria,
they call it … ‘teaching,’ ‘research,’ and ‘the community’… community
engagement is one of the criteria. So, they are very keen for me to
approach an Aboriginal community, and also the community [at large],
in addition to research objects, the research community, but also the
professional community as well… In my promotion application package,
when I mentioned community engagement, I would say my role in the
community. So, for example, in the professional community my role is
editorial board member… So, I think this is kind of proof my
engagement in professional community. For the local community I
could say, I gave a talk … some people were very interested in the
audience. And also, I organised a public seminar in Indigenous research
projects … and we attracted 15 people, including Indigenous elders.
The range of activities that Emily classified as community engagement is
considerable. What is striking is that she included activities related to both her
professional (non-academic) community and the external community (in this
case, an Aboriginal community).
While Emily’s activities were all external to academia, when asked what
kinds of things she would classify as community, Joy said “the editing of the
journal might get me some points ... I would be able to argue it in promotion
applications and stuff as contribution to knowledge and leadership in a
discipline.” From Joy’s perspective, external community activities were not of
primary importance in the RPT process. She was able to shoehorn them into
the annual report, but she felt they held little weight in contrast with research
(publishing and grants) and teaching.
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Joy’s example of contributing to the academic discipline though journal
editing would not, by most definitions (see Chapter 2), be considered
community engagement. That is not to say that such activities are not vitally
important contributions to academia but calling everything community
engagement — both internal and external scholarly activities — runs the risk of
diluting the value of the external community-focused activities.
In addition to the RPT process, Joy reflected on her experience of
applying for her position and noted that community engagement activity was a
section of the job application:
Community engagement was one of the sections of my job application…
It was one of the sections that I found most difficult to address,
particularly because any networks that I had built up were in a different
city, so they weren’t valuable [or] as transferable.
Joy had her application with her, on her computer, at the interview, and read
out the community engagement criteria: “demonstrated commitment to
maintaining excellent working relationships with colleagues and key
stakeholders including industry partners and advisors.” She was flummoxed as
to what report for this section and admitted that she, “stretched a few strings”
to address the criteria. Her university has employed a very broad definition of
community, one that Joy took to mean her scholarly community. Again, in the
context of the scholarship of engagement, community engagement would not
be inclusive of one’s academic community.
Reporting metrics based on scholarly impact (such as h-indexes and
citation counts), grant funding acquired or teaching reviews are relatively clear
cut, but deciphering what counts as engagement can be staggeringly unclear.
Joy, as did Emily, extrapolated community engagement to be something quite
broad. The ways that universities conceptualise service is indeed quite broad
and may encompass community engagement activities and, as explored
previously, this definitional ambiguity allows academics to apply the term in
various ways. The ambiguity provides an opportunity for individual academics
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who want to appear to be doing community engagement work, when they are
in fact applying the term to scholarly activities that have always been expected
of them.
5.1.1.2 Knowing Your Place: RPT Processes and Career Stage
Participants talked at length about the RPT process. Putting aside the
many complaints that academic participants raised about the reporting systems
(i.e., cumbersome online systems with minimal flexibility that were rife with
STEM-related wording), several participants reflected on how they learned to
‘play the game’ — i.e., how they ensured that they satisfactorily completed
teaching, research, and service activities to sufficiently report on them, while
employing appropriate language to represent tasks. This was particularly
germane to understanding where they were in their careers and what was
expected of them by the university.
One of the themes that ran through their commentary was that the RPT
process was seen as a moving target and that what they were being requested to
produce, report, and record as part of the RPT processes often did not align
with their understanding of the formal requirements of their positions. As
Annabelle succinctly summarised, “there’s more and more that I’m being asked
to contribute.” For a majority of participants, community engagement activities
were done in spite of their universities, not because of it. They made the time
(often through personal sacrifice) in order to work with community because
they believe in the importance of those interactions and the resulting research.
According to Hil (2012), who interviewed a range of Australian
academics at various career stages, “cut-throat competition, excessive
workloads, performance appraisal, and altered pedagogical approaches have
had a detrimental impact on today’s academics, who generally struggle to meet
daily demands of academic work” (p. 81). In describing a new requirement at
her university where reports would need to be completed for consulting
projects, Traci’s experience exemplified Hil’s findings. Those reports would
then be posted to the university’s website alongside a social media package. She
critiqued this additional administrative burden saying, “[those] reports don’t
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count in any of our production, like calculation of research time.” So, while the
university required such reports be generated, academics were not able to
include them as part of the RPT process. Traci hypothesised that the game was
fixed to be intentionally unwinnable, with universities asking for more and
more, but not providing the supports or time to follow through on the
activities:
We are these neo-liberalised individualised academics, that that’s all up
to you, to make you more competitive for either a grant or your next job.
But my sneaking suspicion is that universities would like to completely
hobble us that we can never leave, because then we’re just here. This
workforce sitting here doing more teaching. So, it’s all this sort of
entrepreneurial self, "well it’s up to me to do more, and if I don’t then it’s
only me that suffers." But they’re not giving me any time for that. Rage!
And... we’re going into the extreme hate [territory].
The rage that Traci expressed stemmed from what she believed to be increased
bureaucratic pressures from her university without any additional time to
complete those activities. A potential worry of institutionalising community
engagement and expecting more academics to participate is that it would be
simply added on to an already expansive workload. As explored in Section 5.2,
the resources are not generally in place to support community engagement
activities and, therefore, responsibilities fall to already overburdened
academics. Increased managerialism in higher education has resulted in
academics finding ways to “dissociated themselves from the managerial
measures imposed upon them” (Teelken, 2012, p. 1) through “demonstrating
symbolic compliant or pragmatic behaviour” (p. 17). While Traci continues to
function within the system, she is critical of certain functions and, in spite of
frustrations, navigates it by making calculated choices based on her career
stage of how to best to use her time. She explained:
You can get sucked into that shiny, sort of, “wow maybe I should do this
and have a website and go write for The Conversation” and you can get
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completely... you can lose sight of what your job is evaluated on... like
there always has to be that rigorous academic quality and quantity going
on underneath it. But in terms of getting a post-doc or something, the
expectations are so high across the board that if you are doing great
empirical research, but you don’t have that community profile then you
can be knocked back for that.
Her comments suggest that there is a disconnect between what is expected in
practice, based on what one is assessed on when they are in the job, and the
types of activities that get you through the door and into the job in the first
place. For Nathaniel, his community-facing activities contributed to his being
hired; however, he was cognisant that such activities were of minimal
importance in maintaining his position and progressing from Assistant
Professor to Associate Professor. He ruminated:
In my job interview I was asked a lot of questions about types of
community engagement that I would like to be involved in, so it
indicates to me that the department is really invested in community
outreach activities… I don’t think these questions at all were
disingenuous on the part of the department, but also the reality is when
you get into the job, especially your first couple years you just literally do
not have time to do it because you’re so consumed with teaching brand
new classes, teaching high numbers of students, other types of service
activities within the department, serving on committees… supervising
undergraduate honours research projects, and a lot of admin stuff too
takes up time, and then constantly being haunted by, “I should be
revising my dissertation into a book,” “I have to be outputting stuff,” … I
think the university, the department sincerely do want to make these
priorities, but there isn’t, I don’t think, a proper space carved out for
them to happen, quite yet.
In his department, there is nothing preventing Nathanial from engaging
outside academe; however, as a newly-hired ECR, he has to take on a new set of
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tasks and responsibilities, as well as ensuring that his research activity is robust.
Balancing those new tasks and maintaining a research profile in addition to
maintaining or taking on new engagement work can be a challenge. Nathaniel’s
approach to temporarily pull back on engagement work may be prudent for his
career. Harley et al.'s (2010) large-scale survey of academics suggested that
“public engagement is something that is only viewed as appropriate on any
appreciable scale once a scholar has been promoted and has made a name in
the field” (Harley, 2010, p. 18). Meredith recalled hearing similar advice, saying
“I’ve heard people doing policy work saying, ‘I think this is really important but
I’m not going to do it until after tenure’ … The lack of reward, or that the lack of
acknowledgement of this [kind of activity], that’s still very much a problem.”
While Traci was mid-career, and Nathaniel was early-career, Jake was a
full professor nearing the end of his career. He took little heed of the review
process and acknowledged that, as a full professor, the annual reporting
process meant very little to him. His privileged position (i.e., with no further
promotions possible) allowed him to worry less about ‘playing the game.’
Additionally, the university had put on a freeze on increases within pay scales,,
providing even less incentive to engage in university reporting practices. He
commented, “when I’m told how I’m falling short or should be doing otherwise
to come more in line [with the faculty mission] or something, I’ll say ‘you know
what, it really doesn’t matter, and the fact that we haven’t gotten our
increments for the last year and a half makes the whole thing kind of
laughable.’” As a professor with full tenure, there was little to compel him with
regard to the expected metrics that the annual reports contain. Jake noted:
Given my expected trajectory, this next year I should maybe care, and
then I’m in my twilight enough to say it should matter, in a, in a
practical sense. I mean if we actually get increments and we actually still
get our pension, I guess there’s some motivation. But it’s like, when you
break it down, it’s really not rational, the amount of time and energy
that we have, and the amount of conversation about it, it’s all part of our
ridiculous annual system.
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High levels of research productivity are generally expected of professors in most
RPT processes. Jake’s approach may unfairly penalise junior academics if the
department is required to produce a certain number of research units
(publications and grants). However, the notion that tenured professors
underperform is, on the whole, a myth. In their study of 123 universities in 15
countries over 18 years, Nikolioudakis, Tsikliras, Somarakis, & Stergiou (2016)
found that the “long-term productivity of full professors increased,
irrespectively of subject field, geographic area, and university rank” (p. 80). So
tenure, on the whole, does not decrease academic performance, but the tenure
process can be an impediment to engagement. Weerts and Sandmann (2008)
found that “promotion and tenure policies were the strongest barrier to faculty
engagement with the community” (p. 91). As the participants described,
community activities tended to be stymied by RPT processes. However, Jake
perceived having tenure as permitting him greater flexibility to pursue
engagement activities.
The literature demonstrates that the administrative burden involved
with completing RPT processes has increased markedly since the 1980s
(Hamish Coates et al., 2009). Systems associated with RPT are generally very
time-consuming (for example: Fischman et. al., 2018; Hil, 2012; Macfarlane,
2007; Schimanski & Alperin, 2018) and having individuals report on what they
are doing rather than permitting them to actually get the work done is a
symptom of neoliberal managerialism, which is more concerned with
quantification of productivity than productivity itself. As Hil (2012) states,
Economic rationalism, commercialisation, managerialism, corporate
governance and other outgrowths of neo-liberal ideology have ushered
in an entirely new way of thinking about what constitutes academic life,
what universities are for, and what values these institutions represent.
(p. 10)
For some, tenure provides flexibility to push back — at least to some degree —
on highly managerialised processes. Tenure also allows senior academics to
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push back on new understandings and rationalisations of what universities are
for and who they serve. In many ways, community engagement runs counter to
the narratives of “rationalism, commercialisation, managerialism, and
corporate governance” yet, paradoxically, universities increasingly trumpet
their commitment to community engagement. Governments have fostered
competition within the higher education sector through market strategies and
maintained underfunding (Hil, 2012). The modern university may be seen as
being at odds with community engagement in its desire to monetise
interactions and employ business models rather than serve the needs of the
community without want of reciprocation. Tenured academics may be able to
‘push back’ to some degree, but ultimately, they are governed by the same
rules.
One of the themes that repeatedly came up was that, in order to do
community engagement work, strategic choices needed to be made on how
academics’ time was used, including where to publish. Joy was cognisant of
these pressures and acknowledged that she was strategically limiting the
engagement activities she liked to do until she was past her probationary stage.
In particular, her passion for publishing in open-access (peer-reviewed)
journals (her department frowned on these, even ones with strong h-indexes)
and for the public (in newspapers and The Conversation), needed to be
balanced with publishing in traditional scholarly journals, as her department
frowned on open-access journals, even those with strong h-indexes. These
activities would have to wait until she was through the tenure process:
It’s about kind of making strategic choices and some of, some of my
principles I may have to drop for a little while, until I get through
probation and tenure, so that I — which will be, you know, a couple
years’ time — so that I can focus on kind of meeting institutional targets.
But that makes me really uncomfortable, and so it’s finding a way to
balance that, so that I can, so that I’m not locking everything that I
produce away.
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Joy’s principles of making her work publicly accessible were compromised by
her institution’s RPT processes which, in her estimation, privileged publishing
with publishers, subsequently locking tax-payer funded research behind
paywalls.
Meredith’s comments echoed Joy’s concerns about career progression
but, as Meredith pointed out, there are also consequences for attracting grants.
Without a strong publication record, academics are not competitive for grants.
Meredith, a business/economics professor in Canada, explained:
Unfortunately, in many institutions you’ll get cut off because, if you’re
doing all those things [around engaging with the community] instead of
publishing, then you get stopped at tenure. Hav[ing] a strong
publication record is not only required for promotions, but granting
agencies also look closely at an academic’s publication record. You need
publications to get grants and you need grants to get publications.
Whether anyone has read your publications carries little to no weight.
Often, participants seemed to apply a rather short-term, polarised approach to
the RPT process. While the relationship with a community organisation may
not be reportable in the RPT paperwork, the relationship can prove dividends
down the road. In the longer term, for example, community partners may prove
critical in securing grants. Making strategic choices to progress one’s academic
career can be challenging as there are many elements contained within the
three pillars, all of which require fostering at some point or another.
While providing clear expectations for academics is useful for career
planning, Traci was frustrated by what she perceived as the increasing
expectation to conduct additional activities that were not counted in RPT:
They want all this other stuff … like a website for any project you do, and
“we want this, and we want that.” And we’re all like “not going to
happen.” And then, at the same time same, in promotion guidelines,
none of that stuff counts. They love them [extras], but that doesn’t count
towards any time... They’d love to have us swanning about doing T.V.
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spots, but personally, it’s like, my job could be infinite and something
has to go and so the things that I actually get evaluated on, or that are
going to keep me employable, are the things I’m going to focus on. So,
having glossy things and websites and Conversation pieces and media
spots. Nah. That’s not actually what I see most of my job being.
Lack of available time was brought up at some point in every interview — time
was something that participants simply did not have enough of. For the already
overburdened, not having the full complement of scholarly activities they
conduct represented in RPT processes, yet being expected to maintain them,
was illogical and highly frustrating. As Annabelle said, “the more you’ve got
teaching, the more you’ve got administration, the more you’ve got community
engagement and industry partners, research, publish or perish, and your list
keeps growing, growing, growing.”
The participants’ individual contexts demonstrate the considerable
complexity within a system that many believe privileges publishing above all
else. For community-engaged HSS scholars, or those aspiring to be, there are a
multitude of considerations when deciding what to publish, where to publish,
and how much to publish. There were no illusions for the participants in the
study that publishing was of primary concern and, while there were indications
at a few institutions that community-engagement activities were starting to
‘count’ for more (discussed in Section 5.1.1.4), the ‘publish or perish’ paradigm
was still reflected in RPT processes.
In order for ECRs to conduct engagement work, they have to be highly
strategic. In the RPT documents reviewed, the majority explicitly indicated that
grey and popular publishing could be included in RPT packages; however, how
they were weighted was often unclear. Additionally, in spite of robust reporting
structures, much lies in the discretion of the assessment committee. With
academics’ time already heavily taxed, with many reportedly working 60+ hours
a week (Flaherty, 2014), tough choices need to be made around commitments,
particularly by ECRs, that will enable them to maintain employment and
progress their careers. Until (or unless) RPT processes are broadened to be
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inclusive of engagement activities, community-engaged academics must
balance what they are rewarded for, what is expected of them, and they are
passionate about.
5.1.1.3 Playing the Policy Game: The Pragmatist’s Approach
As explored at the start of this section, there are several policy
documents that academics may refer to in order to understand what is
expected of them when it comes to scholarly outputs. Participants reflected on
how they adopt and apply these policies strategically for their engagement
initiatives and activities to persist. This section covers both to academics and
engagement-affirming administrators. For academics, how they use policy to
promote and propel engagement is explored; for administrators, there are
considerations around how to structure and promote engagement-enabling
policy.
Gayle explained that she considers multiple documents when
assembling her annual report, including her faculty’s research plan and the
university’s strategic plan. While, in principle, the documents should guide
research projects, in practice she refers to the documents to ensure that her
submission fits within the associated plans. In particular, she ensures that her
work is reflective of the university’s strategic plan, stating, “I wouldn’t say I look
at it [the strategic plan] and see how it shapes the work I do. I do the work that
I do, and then I go back and go ‘how do I need [to spin this] to please the
[administration].’” She went on to explain, “it’s not like I have that document at
my fingertips and I’m constantly reading it going, ‘am I doing the right
thing?!’ But, I certainly do bring it out when it’s annual review time… Where do
I fit in this?’” By adopting this approach, she said she, “can do the work that I
want to do” and felt that her colleagues took similar approaches.
Sarah applied the same strategy to the RPT process, offering, “I have a
mind to what is needed, in order to get promotion and to, you know, be seen as
fulfilling your [the university’s] requirement … but I don’t let that drive my
agenda.” She too finds a way to make her research fit the university’s narrative
and has an eye on the long game. Being agile and nimble as an academic has
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enabled her to have considerable success. She suggests that taking the long
view as an academic is critically important:
I’ve got to the point now that I’ve been in academia long enough to
know that, it will change. So, what was being asked of us five years ago is
not necessarily the same as what’s being asked of us now. And it will
change again in another five years. So, I think you just do what you do,
and you make it fit their, their parameters.
The pragmatic approach Sarah adopted allows her to continue doing the work
she wants to do while knowing that she will be able to position it within
whatever new scheme or process is introduced in the future. However, it is also
worth noting that, as a senior lecturer, Sarah has more flexibility and job
security than would an ECR. For an ECR being able to nimbly respond to
changes in RPT processes may the deciding factor for continued employment.
Both Gayle’s and Sarah’s comments underscore a knowledge of how the
system functions, and how to function within it. They are savvy — possibly due
to their experience and career stage — in their ability to navigate an ever
changing system. Harré et. al. (2017) conceive of the university as an infinite
game, where the rules of the game are in flux. They suggest that academics
must be agile in order to respond to the challenges that come from a variety of
areas, including “invisible or visible forces that dictate my conditions of
existence in academia… [and] the invisible or visible agendas of the university,
individuals, or both” (p. 8). Successful academics learn how to play the game of
academia in order to balance their obligations, interests, and career (Bourke,
2015). ‘Playing the game’ is not synonymous with ‘game playing’ or ‘gaming the
system’ but certainly the latter is worth consideration and will be taken up with
regards to social impact in Chapter 5:.
At some universities, there are a limited number of salary increments
available for units to distribute between their academic staff. For example, a
unit may be allotted 10 increments (which amount to additional salary) to
distribute amongst staff; high performing staff may get two increments,
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whereas others will get one, half, or none at all. Such university reward schemes
can fuel competition between academics through the system of
acknowledgement and rewards while, paradoxically, encouraging collaboration
within and across disciplines (Turner, Benessaiah, Warren, & Iwaniec, 2015).
Community engagement is rooted in collaborative practice and has the
potential to be antithetical to university models of RPT for academic staff that
are competitive in nature. At Kristine’s university, the strategic direction that
the new president had implemented was centred on engagement around
teaching, research, and community. Kristine asserted the changes have had a
positive net effect for researchers who engage with community:
I think it’s been good, in the sense that then people can point to that
and say that’s the direction we’re going in, and use it as a rationale for
decision making… They can then tie budget priorities to that, and
decision making to that and use that as sort of a lens that everybody can
relate to.
By having engagement activities codified in policy, engaged scholars can
formally attach their activities to policy. As Grace and Wells (2015) suggest,
“policy enables protection.” That is, with engagement made explicit in policy, it
is protected in practice.
This section underscores the importance of policy in enabling academics
to conduct community engagement activities. When policy is present, scholars
can situate their work within it and argue merit based on institutional values
and beliefs. Scholars — and in particular, aspiring scholars — must be mindful
of institutional policy at a variety of levels in order to nimbly respond to
changes and position their work appropriately.
5.1.1.4 It’s Still Publish or Perish:
In spite of various calls to radically re-envision the rewards and
acknowledgement structures in universities (for example: Fischman et. al., 2018;
Hil, 2012; Macfarlane, 2007; Schimanski & Alperin, 2018) — including by Boyer
(1990, 1996) in service of the scholarship of engagement — a majority of the
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participants indicated that they still felt the idiom “publish or perish” was
applicable in their contexts. While other activities, such as teaching and
attracting grants, were also seen as imperative to academic life and success, it
was publishing in high-ranking journals that was paramount. Publishing is not
incompatible with community engagement, but participants were concerned
that publishing is so highly regarded that there remains little time to devote to
additional community engagement activities. As will be seen shown later,
where engagement can be counted, it often counts for little.
Although some participants described pockets of change in
acknowledging and rewarding engagement activities, the general sentiment
was that status quo of ‘publish or perish’ was still applicable. Annabelle plainly
put it, “[community engagement’s] not going to get you promotion. It’s still
publish or perish.”
Expanding RPT processes to acknowledge a variety of research
possibilities is critical to community engagement uptake. Nathaniel critiqued
the system as he, an ECR, perceived it. As a new academic, his opinion is also
worth considering as individuals like him are the future of academia. He
succinctly summarised much of what other participants also expressed:
This isn’t a problem that’s unique to this university, but I think is an
issue in academia as a whole in terms of how my work as a scholar is
evaluated; it’s merely evaluated by quantity of publications. So my merit
increases are directly tied to just the number of things that I produce…
grants, number of publications, type of publication; so, is it a peer-
reviewed publication in a top journal, is it an edited collection, is it a
single author monograph?… Where do we make a space for these other
types of activities that might have an impact but are not easily confined
to a certain type of metric or traced by a certain type of metric. I think
the university still has a lot of evolution to do in this regard.
Nathaniel’s comments reflect the complexity of capturing not just the academic
impact (the traditional realm of scholarly communications and measurement,
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see Section 2.2) but also the societal impact of research, an issue looked at in
Chapter 5:. As this research has identified, there are places within academia
where tools have been created and adopted to recognise community-engaged
activities, but it is by no means universal. Nathaniel reflect on the experiences
of colleagues at other universities who had been able to conduct engagement
activities, emphasising that they were the exception not the rule:
There are certain programs that will recognise these types of scholarly
interventions [developing a podcast] as scholarly interventions that do
engage with the public and that do have a type of impact, but I think
overall there’s still kind of a really radical cultural shift that needs to
happen. If we’re going to really sincerely take seriously the idea of public
pedagogy and being a public intellectual and engaging with various
types of publics outside the university, there needs to be new ways of
recognising that.
His comments underscore a disconnect between the rhetoric around
community engagement and the ways that rhetoric is being reflected in the
reward system. While Nathaniel has received support at a local level from his
chair for his engagement activities, such activities would hardly rate on his
tenure file. He explained:
My chair would recognise this in my performance review. Where it’s
probably going to be seen as a very insignificant blip is in my tenure file.
When my tenure file gets evaluated by external examiners who are going
to be focused on like ‘okay what grants did he win, is his book out, [and]
how many articles has he published.’
Nathaniel is acknowledging that, in his discipline, his engagement activities are
not the type of activities expected of him by those who will assess his tenure
application. Nathaniel’s experience was similar to many of the participants,
who found support from their supervisors to, in effect, work in the margins by
conducting community engagement activities, knowing full well that such
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activities would not be considered in RPT structures. Nathaniel also stressed
that to stay on track in his career, he needed to pay attention to all three pillars
of academic life.
There was a precarious balance the community-engaged participants
struck in order to maintain their engagement and publishing activities. Kristine
indicated that she was able to include her community engagement activities
under service but cautioned, “but it’s like… Service doesn’t count.” When
probed to find out what was valued and rewarded, she responded, “research
and research and research.” Neoliberalism’s relentless emphasis on
performativity and commodification have resulted in a system where academics
have to account for all aspects of their academic lives (S. J. Ball, 2012) and
demonstrating academic impact is seen as vital to career development and
progression (Reich, 2013). In the Australian context, Doyle (2018), asserts that
the “culture of publish-or-perish continues to drive academic activities in
Australia, with researcher reputations dependent upon the generation of
scholarly impact” (p. 1372). This is not to suggest that other activities are not
valued on an RPT application (e.g., grants and high-quality teaching), but
failure to publish academic research in quality outlets will certainly hinder
academic progress for those in research-based roles.
5.1.1.4.1 Ever Moving Goal Posts: “Mechanisms to be Unachievable?”
In order to ‘play the game’ of academia, scholars figure out ways to make
their research — and scholarly interests — fit within their given academic
contexts (Teelken, 2012). However, participants expressed frustrations on how
there was often a lack of clarity concerning what would or could be counted in
RPT processes, as well how much of each activity (e.g., publishing a book,
journal, monograph, etc.) was required.
To help identify what would be accepted by her department in terms of
scholarly contributions, assistant professor Kelli approached a senior colleague
for advice. She wanted to write a book but was concerned because the topic was
more related to pop culture than was typical of her departmental outputs and
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would be written in lay language — though still be academic in nature. She
described the advice that she was given:
I went and sat down with a senior scholar in my department about,
“should I pitch a book about fan studies,” … he was like “can you make
an argument that it’s related to research trajectory?” And I said, “yes, my
field is everyday politics, and this is fear of everyday politics.” He said,
“will you publish it with a University Press?” “Yes.” He’s like, “nobody
gives a shit what it’s about.”
The advice of her senior colleague allowed Kelli to create an output that would
be accessible to the public while still conforming to the department’s RPT
expectations. As an ECR, Kelli described how research output expectations
were commensurate with career stage at her university:
This is the attitude my department takes towards these sorts of things…
[and] what I have had emphasised to me, both by unionists and non-
unionists … is what matters is research productivity that is demonstrably
past what you were doing in graduate school. You cannot rest on your
laurels and you have to show you can work independently, but there is
no [set] number of publications a year, there is no amount of funding
rule, there is no impact factor rule [for what you have to produce]. The
question is, when people read your work do they say "yeah it’s
interesting" and "have you shown that you’re going [forward in your
career].”
The clarity of what are the baseline expectations of performance vary
considerably between universities, as well as globally. In the Australian context,
some universities clearly spell out what different levels of academics are
expected to produce, what kind of funding they are expected to attract, as well
as other requirements; however, many universities are not as clear with their
expectations.
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While Kelli has been strategic in ensuring her academic activities
produce research outputs, she was frustrated by how other activities were not
“CV-able” even though she found them to be “worthy.” She stated:
All my time has gotten sucked into organising a certificate program to
be offered to Syrian refugees in Lebanon. Right, which is kind of
annoying because I’m [going to have] a very hard time flipping that into
something that CV-able. … [It has] sucked up all of my time, but it’s
incredibly worthy, right, and all of a sudden, I’ve been interviewed on
the CBC, and, you know, like they’re going to put our pictures on the
front page of the university website, and one would hope that sort of
thing factors positively into your tenure.
It is possible that Kelli was not taking the long-term view of how these activities
will shape her academic profile. The certificate program could, for example,
open avenues to international research, be a source for PhD student
recruitment, help her acquire funding, or have other flow-on effects — all of
which would certainly contribute positively to her CV. But in the short term,
she envisioned it as a passion project, worth doing even without reward. While
one might hope that such activities — those that bring profile to the university
and shine a public light on academic research — would factor into tenure, for
most participants that connection was not clear. Academics must fulfil all the
requirements of their position before — or in addition to — doing extra work in
the engagement space, otherwise they risk not qualifying for tenure or
promotion.
Gloria, who is a well-established researcher in Australia with an
excellent publication record, illustrated how the pressures to produce academic
research did not abate later in career. She described how the pressure to
produce research and attract grant remained constant:
It’s scaled according to your position and in some ways it’s onerous.
Like, for me, as a level E I’m expected to produce 30 points of research,
which is made up of a mixture of publications [and] funding sources. But
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assuming there are no funding sources for humanities researchers,
where there aren’t, and we just went on publications, I need to publish
five books every three years, to keep up to that level.
Upon reflection and some quick mental calculations, she corrected herself,
saying, “six books. Yeah. Six books as books are worth five points, and I have to
have 30 over a three-year period.” Gloria indicated that ‘30 points of research’ is
calculated based on publications and funding, as acquiring grants through the
Australian Research Council or other humanities funding bodies in Australia
reduce her publication requirements.
At Gloria’s university, the allocation of teaching, research, and
service/administration was shaped by academic outputs, and producing at that
level allowed her a 70-20-10 (research-teaching-service) allocation. She worked
hard to achieve a high level of research output that would permit that workload
to be 70-20-10, yet when met the requirements the university was reticent to
acknowledge it. She described:
I miraculously did [achieve that high publication requirement] one year
and they fought so hard with me, like seriously hard ... they started
questioning all my publications [because] they want everyone to do
more teaching... Personally I think they deliberately develop those
mechanisms to be unachievable.
While every university is different and adopts different standards for their
academics, it is worth noting that Kelli is from Canada and Gloria is in
Australia. The differences in their required outputs, irrespective of career
location, are glaring.
The standards by which one is measured are inconsistent and access to
the documents spell out what is expected of academics at different academic
levels are generally locked behind university intranets. This creates a challenge
for new academics applying for their first job, or for individuals moving
between universities (especially internationally), as it is often unclear what
research, teaching, and service requirements will be. Senior colleagues, like
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Gloria, are critically important information sources for ECRs in navigating
academic RPT processes (Greene et al., 2008; Willson, 2016b).
5.1.1.5 Engagement as Service, or Not Counted at All
Participants were asked how they classified their community
engagement activities and often — if they were able to be accounted for at all
— such activities were categorised under the service pillar of academic work
(rather than research). This section explores participants’ experiences of
justifying their community engagement activities in the RPT process.
As indicated previously, participants and available institutional
documents from Canada described three pillars of an academic’s work life —
teaching, research, and service. In Australia, there was more variance. Some
universities applied the term admin (or administration), community, and
community engagement as the third, rather than service; others had more than
three pillars and, in addition to teaching and research, broke out service into
two categories, service internal to the university and external service for/with
the community (which could include scholarly and professional communities,
government, the general public, etc.). However, for the sake of simplicity,
‘service’ is used here to describe this pillar of activities.
One could argue that engagement activities are better counted
somewhere than not at all. However, participants emphasised that in RPT
processes, research activities were most highly rated, followed by teaching, and
then service. Also, typically, workload allocation is higher for research and
teaching than for service; for example, a university might expect research and
teaching to each comprise of workload with only 20% of an academic’s time
devoted to service. Although the percentage breakdowns may vary (e.g., a
teaching-intensive university may have 50-60% teaching, with smaller
percentages for other activities), academics must ensure that their efforts are
somewhat in line with institutional expectations. As such, by including
engagement under service, universities are minimising the time allocation and
reward given for community work.
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The ways that universities classify ‘research’ is also variable. At some
universities, engagement with external partners is considered research, while at
others it is called service. Alperin et al. (2018) conducted a large-scale analysis
of RPT documents at American and Canada universities and found that they
generally indicated an institutional commitment to community and the public,
most often such activities were relegated to service, a category seen as less
crucial to promotion that research and teaching activities. As Jake, a professor
in Canada, asserted, “we all know service doesn’t really get merit.” Service is a
required element of academic workload, but in most participants’ experiences
held the little or no prestige and was minimally important for promotion
compared with teaching and research.
Reflecting on her role on a campus-based committee to increase
acceptance and recognition of community engagement activities, Camille told
of the uphill battle she was facing to get engagement activities seen as academic
work, based on workshops she had run with academics. In these workshops,
participants saw engagement activities as service work. Camille suggests that
there’s an internalised belief that engagement activities are service:
Some of the people we’ve talked to who are doing some very powerful
useful initiatives with community, based on the community’s needs… In
some of the workshops they’ve been told, “oh well that you put that in
the service category of your CV and your portfolio.” And it’s not that I
want to undermine the value of service, but it’s not seen as fitting into
what would be traditionally called scholarship.
Camille’s contention was that categorising community work as service
delegitimises the importance of engagement in academia, as service is not held
in the same regard as teaching or research.
At the heart of this dilemma is where to put engagement work and,
more broadly, how the notion of scholarship is understood. Is scholarship
purely the generation of new knowledge and sharing it through academic
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networks, or does it extend to sharing such scholarship with non-disciplinary
specific groups?
The siloed model of academic work presents a challenge for both the
institution and the community-engaged academic. The research, teaching, and
service pillars are not easily defined or delineated. Nor, as previously outlined,
is community engagement easily defined — as Lydia said, “it’s service, and it’s
research, but it’s also teaching in some ways.” This lack of clarity in all areas
means that participants struggled with how to fit an ambiguous concept into
another set of ambiguous concepts. This multi-level ambiguity makes
measurement of, and subsequent reward for, engagement is virtually
impossible. There seems to be no easy solution. Adding a fourth pillar —
evaluating academics for the contributions to teaching, research, academic
service, and community engagement — would just further complicate it. Many
scholarly activities fall under multiple silos simultaneously but may only be
counted in one spot. As a result, academics are required to ‘play the game’ as
best they can by making value judgements as to where best to position their
activities.
networks, or does it extend to sharing such scholarship with non-
disciplinary specific groups?
5.1.1.5.1 Service Downgraded to Volunteer
Community engagement activities take time, and time spent on
community takes away from time allocated for other scholarly activities. Time
availability was seen as a challenge for some participants, and their community
engagement activities came out of their personal time yet was, in some cases,
counted in their annual reports. Joy described having secondary school
students contact her for assistance with projects and explained that, “I do try
and do something when they do [but] that takes some sort of thinking, and
effort.” It is within the nature of her academic unit to conduct work related to
community but each activity like the one she described takes time away from
other scholarly activities. This intellectual labour could be counted as a service
activity at many universities, but for Joy it was relegated to personal volunteer
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time — on top of her work responsibilities. These sorts of “out of kindness”
activities are occasionally counted to academic service, but too often are not
documented or acknowledged at all. Joy explained that assisting high school
students is “not something that anybody actually talks about as a thing that we
do, even though it seems like most people [i.e., her colleagues] do it.”
Similarly, Traci described providing guidance on research and her topic
area for various associations in her community, stating that “I’m sort of an
unpaid consultant for them…having a couple of meetings with people about
how they can design their study, give them literature. But it’s more than surface
level.” If undocumented, activities like this mean less time to spend on other
things that are counted in the RPT process. When asked if such an activity was
rewarded or acknowledged she simply responded “No. No.”
An example of community engagement work that took substantial time
and had a potentially larger impact than publishing in academic journals being
minimised in the RPT came from Meredith. Here, ruminates on the frustration
of not receiving credit for this work:
I would argue that any one of those written interventions [for a
community group or government agency] could easily be equivalent to
writing a paper… but none of that is going to show up in your annual
report, you just put it in there "going and talking to regulator" and your
boss is probably not going to look at that and say "hey that’s
fantastic." But, if you think about the impact that you’re actually having
on public, and trying in some way to advance a public interest, then it’s a
really important thing, and we don’t have very good ways of measuring
that.
Meredith’s comments highlight the systemic issues are reported, how things
can be reported, and what really counts. She rightly points out that preparing a
briefing document (grey literature) can often take as much time as a scholarly
publication, but often is not acknowledged or rewarded in the same way. An
RTP process that acknowledged her engagement with the regulator, the
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outputs (written interventions), and the impact of those engagements and
outputs on policy and practice, would be ideal.
The examples from Joy, Traci, and Meredith illustrate how community
engagement activities are often undocumented, unacknowledged and
unrewarded. Without documenting activities, they cannot be appropriately
rewarded. When RPT processes are not flexible enough to recognise a wide
variety of scholarly activities, engagement activities run the risk of being
relegated to volunteer activities.
5.1.1.6 Differing Priorities: Smaller Universities Making Engagement
Gains
As discussed previously, research and teaching were universally seen by
the participants as the core requirements for promotion; while an academic
might be able to declare an engagement activity in their RPT reports, if the
work was positioned under service, it did not count as highly overall. Generally,
participants at universities with a historic teaching-intensive focus had a more
positive outlook on community engagement activities being included in the
RPT process.
Abdul, for example, is an assistant professor at a teaching-focused
Canadian university that was formerly a college. He critiqued the system
employed by most universities that privileges publishing above all else, while
praising his university’s focus on publishing quality pieces that have impact:
You have academics [who] publish papers year, after year, after year, and
it goes nowhere. And I think we have emphasised this publication for
the sake of publication to such an extent that we end up publishing a lot,
but we’re not getting [value]…. So we need to do a back off a little bit of
that… Which is why I like [my university’s] atmosphere. You’re not
under pressure to publish [like] that. You publish what you feel is “this is
worthwhile. I want to put my heart and soul in this area.” And that’s
what we need to instigate and that’s what universities need to recognise.
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Abdul’s assertion may not be far off. Meho (2007), found that “some 90% of
papers that have been published in academic journals are never cited. Indeed,
as many as 50% of papers are never read by anyone other than their authors,
referees and journal editors” (p. 32). Being in a position that afforded him the
ability to do work with community, and be rewarded for it, fuelled Abdul’s
passion, and he spoke of his institution in glowing terms.
Lydia also reflected on her university’s support for community
engagement activities and attributed the historic mission of the university for
that support. In addition to teaching six courses a year, as an assistant professor
she also conducted research and maintained a considerable service portfolio:
We’re a teaching-focused institution so the research side is still evolving
in trying to figure out what that looks like. That said, I’d say I’m
probably one of the... in the group of the active researchers on campus
and quite involved, and do a lot of grant applications, and all that kind
of thing… For those of us who do the research side and are very involved,
I feel like there’s a lot of support for that kind of community
engagement piece and it’s acknowledged as part of our work, which I
think is one of the best things that we’ve got going on here.
With the institution focused on being inclusive of community engagement
activities, Lydia could target her publishing efforts beyond traditional academic
outputs (such as journals). While she was still mid-project, she envisaged
publishing in the popular press, to advocate for the community she was
researching:
My colleague and I have been talking about it for so long and we have to
actually get on and do it, but we’d like to publish something in
something like The Atlantic Monthly, The New Yorker, Slate, something
like that, that talks about this issue that’s going on down there, and we
wanted in something big and respected that’s going to gain a lot of
awareness about it. And then, most of my publishing coming out of this,
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I’ll do probably a couple academic articles about it, but my main focus is
really doing the public work.
With regard to how she would position publishing in her RPT document she
said, “you’ve seen in our strategic plan — and other things — that community
engagement is a big part in what we do here.” As such, engagement activities
are in line with the institutional mission and she did not foresee an issue with
them being formally acknowledged.
Abdul and Lydia both felt supported in their community service work as
to how it was reported and acknowledged. Their reflections on this included
reference to both the size and history of their institutions, which had relatively
recently converted from being colleges to universities and were establishing a
research portfolio and culture. Alperin et al. (2018, p. 9) found that the terms
‘public’ and ‘community’, were found to be more prevalent in RPT documents
at large, research-intensive universities, while the concept of ‘community
engagement’ was more prevalent in the documentation at smaller universities.
As such, engagement activities with communities external to the academy were
more explicitly prioritised at smaller institutions, whereas at the larger
institutions ‘community’ and ‘public’ tend to take on a very wide spectrum of
meanings (Alperin et al., 2018). Abdul’s and Lydia’s experiences at newer,
growing universities, support these findings.
A mission of connection to community not only drives the type of
research conducted, but also encourages mobilisation of that research back into
community. Floyd, who manages a unit supporting community engagement at
another university in Canada, pointed to Memorial University in Newfoundland
as an exemplar of engagement: “it’s a province of 500,000 people, one university
with an explicit engagement mandate within the university mission.” Lloyd’s
opinion is that the uniqueness of Memorial in the Canadian context (location,
size, and mandate) engagement activities are not only common, they are
expected and also rewarded.
Participants from institutions that were formerly colleges and had
transitioned to research universities had lower publication requirements than
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those at longer-established universities. Lydia related how a low requirement to
publish in academic venues afforded her more time to devote to engagement
activities. She illustrated how academics in the research stream (as opposed to
the teaching stream) were required to produce at least one academic article
within five years:
That’s relatively easy to do in a five-year period, I would think — at least
it was for me — but then that also opens up the door to all sorts of other
types of publishing. So, I can get my one academic article, but then I can
also do all these other things that still count on my annual report and
that people still take quite seriously.
While Lydia saw the low expectation as allowing her additional time to
conduct engagement activities, producing at that baseline level it would make
her uncompetitive for positions at many universities. In a shifting academic
landscape where, increasingly, academics move between institutions, it is still
prudent that academics perform at levels consistent with the expectations of
their discipline (Alperin et al., 2018).
What is defined as minimal requirement varied considerably. Camille, a
professor in Canada, said of her university, “our tenure obligations are fairly
minimal here. Different departments have different things, but the maximum is
usually about three articles… to have for tenure… in five years.” For Camille, it
was clear what her output requirements were, with a lower
publication/granting requirement permitting additional time to focus on other
activities like publishing in public venues and doing an assortment of
engagement activities.
The contributions of the participants describing their individual
experiences highlight just how dramatically different standards can be.
Expectations varied as much between universities as between countries. The
disconnect between university requirements in RPT and community
engagement is something that aspiring scholars should be aware of. In order to
remain competitive, particularly at an institution without a traditional research
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culture, one must keep abreast of expectations across the sector and within the
discipline. Additionally, for aspiring academics who are keen to integrate
community engagement into their scholarly activities, the mission and scope of
a university may be worth considering when weighing employment options.
5.1.1.7 The Complexity of Change: Piecemeal Change is Still Change
This section explores where there are pockets of change and reports on
participants’ experiences of disruption in the RPT process. As Floyd, who
supports engagement activities in Canada, pointed out, “universities work well
but they don’t change fast. So, it’s kind of like moving an ocean liner on a
[dime] — it’s not going to happen. But I’m encouraged that the conversations
are taking place.” Participants discussed the conversations happening on their
campuses and in their departments around engagement as part of the RPT
process as well as other enabling policy, including the desire to move away
from engagement as being discretely contained within the pillar of service (see
Section 5.1.1.5).
5.1.1.7.1 National Level Change: Engagement in Canada
Participants noted that conversations around how to best incorporate
community engagement into the RPT process are happening at local levels, but
it is also worth noting that such conversations are also happening at the
national and international levels (see Chapter 2). Wilson, a senior administrator
with an engagement portfolio in Canada, discussed the roots of an inter-
university conversation in Canada and the mixed responses to acknowledging
engagement in RPT processes through the collective agreement:
We wanted [our university] to be the first one to get it [community
engagement] in the promotion and tenure process and do it right. And
so that was for three or four universities in Canada that were really
excited about it. So we had roundtable meetings, and I know some of the
deans came in and said “well, it’s a really interesting piece, let’s see if we
can do it within our faculty collective agreement,” others came in and
said “no we can’t [make it fit the collective agreement]”
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Where there might be an appetite for changes to RPT processes in senior
administration, the proposition is challenging as they need to work in the
context of employment policies, legislation, and collective agreements (Youn &
Price, 2009).
The RPT process is complex for many reasons, and the external influence
of granting agencies regarding the types of outputs that are valued is but one
complicating factor. In order to attract grants, a robust publication record is
required, and engagement activities can be seen as taking away from that
pursuit. It is hardly surprising that academic management would be wary of
making changes that could adversely affect receiving grants. Despite the
hesitation, Wilson felt that change was possible and, perhaps, inevitable:
It’s just going to have to get some more traction. Once it gets traction,
one or two universities in Canada, I think it’s going to just take off and
people are going to see it. Just like teaching was never really seen as a
tenure-track process for promotion and tenure, and now you’re seeing
more of universities have three streams.
The inevitability that Wilson described was echoed in the comments of others
in relation to the changing nature of how academic research is accounted for,
particularly in regard to emerging impact assessments (to be discussed in
Chapter 5:).
Floyd, whose unit supports engagement and knowledge mobilisation
activities of academics, also pointed to a national conversation around RPT
processes:
[My university] is working with, I would say, eight or nine other
universities in the country and they’re having some very focused
conversations around tenure and promotion practices…. I’m encouraged
that there are offices like, like ours, that are starting to grow over the
country, and that people are starting to place value in this. Universities
are making investments in knowledge mobilisation because they see
value in it.
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That conversations are taking place, partly because people like Floyd recognise
that community engagement is a powerful tool for change that is not being
adequately acknowledged and rewarded, is heartening. Whether this bottom-
up approach will bear fruit and change RPT practices in higher education
across Canada remains to be seen.
5.1.1.7.2 University-Based Change
Camille’s university is actively trying to change the culture both through
development of internal policy frameworks and through outreach and
education to/with academics. She discussed how they are addressing the
shortcomings of institutional metrics by looking at how they might include
community engagement, locally. In describing the RPT process at her
university, Camille reflected on how commitment to community that has
historically been (and remains) a key element of the university’s identity and
described her activities on a committee charged with addressing how the
commitment to community engagement could be further solidified:
We have, at [this university], a fantastic mandate around engagement
with the community… I was part of a working group that was putting out
a paper that was going to be setting up some kind of pathway for
community-engaged scholarship … We’ve got two strands of that
initiative. One of them we looked at the collective agreement … [and] we
felt that it had enough room in it to [be inclusive of engagement
activities], we didn’t need to engage in a changing of a collective
agreement … The place where we are trying to bring in some new
language around community-engaged scholarship is in the senior
appointments committee guidelines, and those are the guidelines that
interpret the collective agreement — so if someone goes up for tenure
and promotion. So we’ve got some pretty clear ideas about some, an
addendum we want to add to that, and some spots within the guidelines
where we very purposely, intentionally, talk about community-engaged
scholarship… One of the big issues there is to find a language… [to
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recognise] that the process of developing ethical reciprocal partnerships,
is as valuable as any deliverable or outcome.
Camille’s comments on language come back to the common refrain in this
research and in community engagement scholarship (e.g., Barreno et al., 2013;
Diamond & Adam, 1998; Harley et al., 2010; Macfarlane, 2007; Sandmann, 2008;
Weerts & Sandmann, 2008) that the definitional ambiguity of community
engagement poses a considerable challenge. By attempting to solidify how
community engagement is understood in the senior appointments committee,
it was hoped they could circumvent amending the collective agreement while
still achieving a positive net outcome for community engagement being
counted in the RPT process. It is worth nothing that because community is
embedded in the mission of the university, the collective agreement already
permits and encourages more community-engaged activities than other
institutions, they just need to be acknowledged in the RPT process.
The second concept from the committee that Camille mentioned was
education to advance the engagement conversation throughout the university:
Especially the people who are giving mentorship and advice to junior
scholars about if they want to proceed in this way, to both encourage
them, but also inform them about ways of documenting what they’re
doing of thinking about the measurement of impact. …We’ve got
workshops going on for people who are thinking about tenure and
promotion so we, you know, have some new information that we would
provide there.
The emerging notion around social impact will be discussed in detail the next
chapter, but Camille’s reflections on an engagement education initiative is
worth noting as she was the only participant who indicated any such initiative.
In spite of a lack of participant knowledge or involvement in such initiatives
there are several institutions experimenting with similar approaches (Barreno
et al., 2013; Smith et al., 2013).
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There is no clear-cut solution for how best to account for community
engagement activities in the RPT process. While universities have looked to
collective agreements, RPT guidelines, and various other means, change does
not have to occur at a university-wide scale. Jane, who manages a faculty with a
deep commitment to community engagement, pointed out that RPT sit at a
local, faculty or department level at some universities and discussed how they
changed their RPT process around community engagement in her faculty.
While the university at large stayed with their traditional RPT process, she
obtained permission from the chancellor to institute a process that was more in
line with a community-engaged scholarly philosophy. She points out that, as
per Boyer (1990, 1996), engagement activities should not fall discretely into
teaching, research or service, but rather be integrated holistically throughout:
We’ve tried to change that [categorisation process] by saying it’s an
integrated cycle of citizenship, discovery, teaching and learning… “Is
that teaching, or research,” you can’t do that. It’s [the promotions
process] completely integrated — if you’re doing it right.
An integrated approach is not without issues either, and adopting an integrated
RPT model requires additional resourcing around staff education and training.
As such, people tend to gravitate towards categories and away from complexity.
5.1.2 Engagement Allies in Management: Gatekeepers or Door Crashers
This section considers the roles different levels of university management
play in setting the tone for community engagement, in either encouraging or
discouraging the engagement activities of their academic staff members. This
can take many forms, from sending notes of thanks for the community-engaged
work being done, to backing projects with an academic’s time, providing
resources (including financial) and supporting initiatives through their
authority (e.g. providing sign-off). While only a few of the participants raised
the role senior executives play, their influence on the entire university’s actions
to engage (or not) was critical.
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One of the key facilitators to engagement that participants discussed
was the support from both local (i.e., faculty, department, etc) and university-
level management and administration who would champion their engagement
activities. At the local level, there were individuals such as heads of school,
department heads, and direct line managers and thesis supervisors (where
interviewees discussed their doctoral training experiences). At the university
level, individuals discussed members of the senior executive (e.g., vice-
chancellors/presidents, pro-vice chancellors/vice-presidents, etc.).
The academic participants in this study reported positioning their work
within the scope or goals of the university — particularly around annual
reviews of performance — with the support of administration and managers (at
various levels). While occasionally participants subverted institutional
structures to conduct their engagement activities, the majority of academic
interviewees were able to position their work appropriately within the
institution’s stated goals and pursue their research with the support of an
administrator or manager. For example, at the school level, participants might
be rewarded with release time for engagement activities, while at a university
level they might apply for and receive small amounts of funding for
engagement work. In some cases, academics reported having to get creative to
pursue their engagement activities, to find the right person to support their
activities. This theme is explored in greater detail in Section 5.1.2.2.
The findings presented in this section have implications for how
community-engaged academics might navigate the administrative apparatus of
universities to identify enclaves of support in order to conduct community
engagement work. The reflections of participants are also relevant to
administrators and managers looking to better support their community-
engaged academics.
5.1.2.1 University Senior Executives: Acting Beyond Policy
This section explores, in the context of relevant literature, participants’
experiences of how individuals in management hampered or encouraged
community engagement activities. First, examples from university-level
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management (e.g., president/vice-chancellor), are provided, followed by
examples at local-level (faculty, school, department) managers.
At universities that successfully manage community engagement
portfolios, senior leadership plays a “central if not paramount role” (Lang &
Sandmann, 2015, p. 36). The results of this study echo this in that, while
participants generally did not have substantive interactions with administrator
(e.g. on a day-to-day basis), their community engagement activities were,
nonetheless, influenced by administrators in various ways. While
administrators are primarily responsible for policy that guides and supports
academics’ work, including implementing and managing engagement policy
(explored in detail in Section 5.1), this section focuses on the additional roles of
the roles individual administrators specifically play in fostering and supporting
community engagement activities on their campuses. The following four sub-
sections examine various ways administrators supported engagement.
5.1.2.1.1 Leveraging Authority to Enable Engagement
University policy set by senior executives can be an important conduit for
action when academics can locate their activities within policy. University policy
guidance was an enabling factor for Gloria’s engagement work when she sought
to implement a crowd-funding project:
One of the reasons I was, inspired I guess, when I arrived at [my
institution] to pitch this crowd-funding idea was because I had read
something the vice-chancellor said about bringing research home. And
what she meant by that was [bringing] researchers back to [the
university’s rural location] basically.
Beyond policy, tangible support from the university administration facilitated
implementation of the program. Gloria’s crowd-funding project required a
university PayPal account (a money transfer platform often used for crowd-
funding initiatives) for which, Gloria pointed, “[you] need someone who’s
senior executive, like a DVC [deputy vice-chancellor] and/or the VC [vice-
chancellor], backing it in, who can get the PayPal account activated.” In what
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was a first for her university, the senior administrator who initially endorsed her
initiative in due course signed off on attaching a university bank account to
PayPal.
By positioning her crowd-funding activities within policy (such as the
university’s third mission, the engaged campus) Gloria was able to establish a
robust local funding program with many successes to date. In addition, by
having senior administrators play a role in getting the project off the ground, she
made them aware of the project and engendered support through the explicit
actions required by administration to make the project possible.
In this scenario the actions, and support of, the administrator
demonstrated support of a faculty members initiative for a project that will have
(and has had) a tangible impact on the community. The administration in
Gloria’s example spans from internal advocate (supporting Gloria’s initiative) to
external champion as they then share the projects’ successes to the public,
media, alumni, and board (Weerts & Sandmann, 2008).
Kristine discussed how her university’s top administrator used
community engagement as the focal point for all university activity:
When he came in, [he] you know, set out to sort of label [this
institution] as the engaged university, and so there are three pillars of
engagement — students, researching, [and] community — and sort of
tying everything around that that mission and vision for [the
institution]. And I think that’s been, in some ways very controversial…
[but] I think it’s been good, in the sense that then people can point to
that and say that’s the direction we’re going in, and use it as a rationale
for decision making, and that sort of thing.
The concept of being able to attach one’s engagement activities to institutional
policy was a theme that came up repeatedly. In effect, participants sought to find
the policy would support their activities, and then made sure the engagement
activities aligned with it. Participants leveraged senior executive’s policy
decisions to justify their engagement activities.
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5.1.2.1.2 Championing Engagement: Senior Executive
Participants discussed various styles of leadership, providing examples of
strategies and initiatives that encouraged community engagement activities. In
some cases, new administrators were seen as bringing fresh energy to
universities’ portfolios while others were sceptical that rhetoric would result in
action. Australian developmental studies lecturer Annabelle reflected on a
change in administration:
We’ve had a new … vice-chancellor come in this year. So that seems to
have also shaken things up [in the community engagement area] a little
bit as well. I guess with each iteration, each generation [of
administrator] then different things are happening.
Similarly, Emily believed the appointment of a new member of senior executive
would bode well for her community-engaged research projects:
We have a new deputy pro-vice-chancellor for research and innovation,
and she promotes this community-based research very much. I think it’s
a good support this year I feel, when I apply for my DECRA [Discovery
Early Career Researcher Award] grant.
As with any organisation, the direction set at the top ripples throughout and
impacts each actor in different ways. Participants in the study were generally
aware of who was supportive of their activities and who was not and promoted
their engagement activities to those they knew would be supportive, and did not
broadcast to those who would, or might, not be.
Participants discussed various ways that senior administrators, beyond
creating policy, encouraged activities that externalised the participants’
academic activities. Gloria had received words of appreciation from senior
executive in-person but described the encouraging interaction as one not
available to junior colleagues for whom it would be extremely valuable:
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I’m slightly privileged because I’m a professor. I ran into my vice-
chancellor and she said ‘I saw your article on blah.’ There’s no way I’m
ever going to engage with my vice-chancellor about any of my research
other than through The Conversation. So that’s good. So, she gets the
media report which she scans probably once a week, or possibly more
frequently, I don’t know, and so if my name’s on that, I’m in front of the
vice-chancellor.
Her public-facing work, in this case a The Conversation article, was noticed and
acknowledged by the vice-chancellor. She understands the utility of such a
venue for getting on the radar of senior officials within her university, and said
she often tries to co-author junior colleagues, who might not otherwise have the
opportunity to publish in such venues to raise their profiles internally.
While publications in popular media may be noticed and acknowledged
by senior academics, grey literature (for example, a report complied for
government) may not be as readily seen by administrators. Meredith related the
experience of a colleague in such a position:
When he does something that gets picked up in the press the clipping
service obviously speaks to or sends something out to the president, the
president writes him a note saying congratulations for being in the press.
But here he is, where he’s actually doing something where the
regulator’s asking for more information and that’s totally off the
radar. So, the president is not sending him a note of thanks.
In some processes (ERA, for example), only published reports are counted; this
can be problematic as government reports are not always public. Items that are
not public are less likely to make their way to the desk of the vice-chancellor,
which means that academics engaging in this way most likely fail to be
recognised for such activities. Additional activities to promote the grey literature
may be required but, occasionally, that is not possible — particularly if the
material has been embargoed. Grey literature, in many cases, would take
considerably more time to prepare than an article for The Conversation or
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participating in a media interview, yet this kind of external, non-academic
publishing is often not viewed in the same light by administrators. This deficit is
particularly concerning as, in the space of community engagement, such reports
have the potential to carry considerable weight in affecting policy outcomes for
community organisations and are often useful mechanism for generating
societal impact. If such literature is not being rewarded through formal
channels, a personal acknowledgement from administration would be all the
more impactful and important for the academics concerned.
Setting institutional direction is crucial, but when senior administrators
— who are also academics — are able to demonstrate their commitment to
community, the message is driven home. Lillie, who supports engagement
activities in Australia, discussed a senior administrator at her institution being
able to practice what he preaches, saying, “he understands, I think more than
anyone, the importance of connecting and explaining. And he can explain his
research, beautifully, simply.” Being able to synthesise academic knowledge for
non-academic audiences is a skill critical to effective community engagement.
The fact that this member of senior executive can translate knowledge in that
way suggests that they also understand the importance of engagement with non-
academic audiences.
A champion at a senior level can be vitally important and can make or
break engagement activity at an institution. Jane, the dean of a faculty in Canada
with a core engagement mission around community education and outreach,
discussed the importance of support from a specific top administrator:
[The administrator] was so good, you know, he gave us the space, he
championed it [community engagement], it put us in the right places, on
the right committees and stuff. Now he’s gone —I’m still grieving that
one… So now we have a new president who talks a lot about community
engagement and I’m waiting to see what that actually looks like.
Jane was concerned that the progress made under the previous administration
would be stymied by a change in institutional direction under the new
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administration. Although the new administrator trumpeted community
engagement as a strength and priority of the institution, he had not yet provided
any tangible evidence (in terms of additional engagement funding or resources)
of how he was prepared to back up this rhetoric.
Similarly, Camille spoke of how crucial having a champion in senior
administration is to the success of community-engaged initiatives:
You have to have some champions, and they have to be at key senior
levels. So, our VP [Vice-President] Research actually supported, two
years ago, two town hall meetings — daylong events around
community-based research. And that was quite a symbolic, and that’s
how this taskforce grew out of that. So, it [community engagement]
really does depend on key people.
While an impassioned champion was seen as necessary, Camille was quick to
point out that successfully engaging in community engagement activities does
not stop, or in fact start, with keen administration, saying, “I think those top-
level champions are important, but it also has to be grassroots. So, it can’t just be
‘look, you guys, we’re going to do this.’” This more local support and
encouragement is addressed in the next section.
5.1.2.2 Local (faculty, school, department) Management Enabling
Community Engagement
Whereas the role that senior executives at universities play in supporting
and encouraging community engagement is crucial, so too is the more local
context. This section addresses those who sit between academic staff and senior
executives. Universities are complex places with layers of hierarchies, with no
two exactly alike. Participants explored the role of their faculty, school, or
department (herein called ‘local’) management and reflected on how they could
be useful allies for engagement; however, some worried that their engagement
activities would be adversely affected if those particular managers left their
positions.
In many ways, the findings in this study echo Skolaski’s (2012) finding
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academics “felt most visible by their supervisors, then colleagues, and then
community partners, but felt least visible by their institution” (p. 167). A few of
the participants in this research reflected on individual university-level
administrators, that level of administration – though vitally important and
appreciated - was far from ubiquitous in interviews.
The value of local encouragement was expressed by Abdul who, after
publishing in the Huffington Post (newspaper) received a letter from the Dean’s
office. He recalled;
I got a letter from the Dean’s office at [my university] thanking me for
writing the blog at Huffington Post, on LGBT issues, and he says ‘keep
going.’ He basically said ‘it’s important for you to reach out to the
community on behalf of the university, because this is what we do as a
campus. This is what we do as a university, we reach out in the
community.’ So, I’ve got three letters from him on three different blogs,
and that was like, you know, this is like my university backing me up.
That brief interaction communicated clearly to Abdul that his university valued
the work he was doing. The fact that he made note of it and brought it up in the
interview demonstrates the power of a manager’s ability to encourage through
positive reinforcement. Moreover, the manager’s messaging to Abdul is not just
about his interactions with media, but speaks to the values of the institution
and, indeed the manager as well. The manager is not only commending Abdul
for one action, but implicitly encouraging him to continue with such actions.
Typically, a staff member’s workload is overseen by a local administrator,
who directs and supports activities in line with the university’s formal workload
and collective bargaining agreements. In Wilbur’s case, however, an
arrangement was made with his institution (which was sponsoring a film
festival) for his time to be shared doing community engagement activities with
the festival. Wilbur described: “they give them [the festival] me for
the equivalent of one semester, and they count that as, notionally, worth
$30,000.” This example is notable as it was a unique participant experience, a
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direct connection between an academic’s role and management; in this case,
while the local (faculty) level would have also been involved in the arrangement,
it came at the urging of the university level, who saw the value of his community
contributions and they were willing to financially support a humanities scholar
contributing to community. This multilevel approach is a persistent theme in
community engagement literature (as explored by Gauntner & Hansman, 2017).
Direction from the top is crucial but, without local, grassroots support,
initiatives are likely to fall short.
Participants reflected on the tension between the formality at the
university level and the perceived flexibility and support of the local level,
which allowed them to undertake engagement activities. Dale, a senior lecturer
of English in Australia, discussed how he subverted the highest-level of
university bureaucracy and rely on local support for an event he was
orchestrating:
I decided to bypass [my university’s] bureaucracy. In the event that it [an
international education project] happens, which it will, it’ll take a year to
set up… but I think that that is a positive contribution and I think [my
institution] will get some kudos out of it, even though, frankly, they
don’t deserve it. The person who deserves it is my head of school…. She
was really great she said “let’s have a look at your workload” and I was
way overloaded and she said “there must be money for you to get
tutoring done.” She organised that, which was great. She also organised
it with the dean that I could do that [community activity]. I mean, I
know it’s highly irregular that I was teaching [in a community
development capacity] off campus for, two months, but it really
worked… my head of school really supports it and she’ll do anything she
can, but there’ll be no formal, you know, a portion of time.
Importantly, it is not just Dale who is subverting the systems; so too is the
administrator he speaks of. While in this situation they were able to find a
‘workaround’, such a solution is precarious as a new administrator may not
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honour this informal arrangement and engagement in the future may not
happen as a result.
Lillian’s experience differed in that there is alignment between her faculty
and university, in regard to engagement and no subversive action is required.
Speaking of support for her initiatives, she said:
Our associate head of school research is really supportive. There’s a lot
of, a lot of focus towards, sort of, kind of, social justice type activities at
[my university]. We’re the Uni that sort of focuses on the first in family
enrolments and there just seems to be that kind of sort of general
support around doing more radical stuff.
When institutional policy harmony exists because approaches are consistent
across administrative levels, local administrators can provide transparent
support as it is within the scope of the institutional mission (Sandmann &
Plater, 2009). In Lillian’s case, the head of school was not contradicting, cajoling,
or bending any rules to support her engagement activities.
The success of engagement activities is greatly increased when there is
harmonious, consistent policy — including the university’s core mission —
promoting engagement (Mtawa, Fongwa, and Wangenge-Ouma, 2016).
Managers are then able to support their academics in a variety of ways as it is
consistent with policy guidance. Participant were aware of when managers were
‘bending the rules’ by permitting time or resources for engagement, and
acknowledged that it put the managers in a precarious position.
A challenge arises when administrators have multiple, overlapping roles.,
such as being promoted into administration but continuing to have
faculty/school responsibilities. Gauntner and Hansman (2017) (e.g.,) point out
“these multiple roles, with perhaps sometimes competing objectives, may cause
further complications and constraints for the creation of community
partnerships” (Gauntner & Hansman, 2017, p. 116). Being accountable to senior
administration — and university policy — while supporting local staff and their
research, teaching, and service initiatives can be challenging.
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5.1.2.3 Conclusions on Administrator Support
Generally, the academic participants in this study portrayed administrator
support as vital for conducting engagement work. This is consistent with
previous research (for example, Adams, 2014; Bernardo, Butcher, & Howard,
2014; Goodman, 2014; Prysor & Henley, 2017; Sandmann & Plater, 2009; Welch
& Plaxton-Moore, 2017).
While senior executives are responsible for creating the policy and
fostering an overall environment supports their engagement activities, few
participants reflected on the importance of having a champion their cause at the
institutional level. For those that did reflect on the importance of senior
executive support for their engagement activities, Hackman and Oldham's
(1976) job characteristics theory is useful in conceptualising the impact that
such gestures make. The theory suggests that the work environment is a critical
aspect of employment and that being welcomed, accepted and appreciated it
critical to maintaining employees. In a nutshell, employee satisfaction and
performance extend far beyond remuneration. It is also possible that the role of
individual administrators was minimised by participants; yet, the policies that
administrators are responsible for creating and enacting do affect the work of
academics in more substantial way.
There are implications for the knowledge practices of university managers
at a variety of levels with regard to the influence they exerted in support of
engagement or against it; for example, participants stated that they actively
identify administrators likely to support their activities. How management
publicly frames their vision of the university’s societal role is heard,
internalised, and responded to (positively or negatively) by the academic staff.
Participants were often excited to hear about the positive growth and trajectory
of engagement activities at their universities, but also cynical that it was just
rhetoric as well as worried that a change in leadership would de-rail efforts.
When there is an engagement champion at the local management level, it fuels
engagement, and motivates (at least some) community-engaged academics,
even when supports, rewards, and policy may be lacking.
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5.1.3 Conclusions on Academic Leadership of Community Engagement
The value proposition for community engagement may align in different
ways depending on position — staff, academic, manager, or senior executive. It
is worthwhile reflecting on just what administration ‘gets out of’ engagement as
it relates to satisfying the requirements of their jobs. Philosophically, they may
align with the goals of engagement, but engagement may also serve a larger
purpose as related to their roles.
It can also be argued that while administration may be delighted to have
academics participate in engagement activities and commend them (including
sometimes publicly through engagement awards) for their activities,
administration may still be failing to adequately resource and support such
engagement. When resources are easily accessed and academics are
acknowledged and rewarded for their activities, community engagement
activities are elevated from fringe activities to institutional zeitgeist (Butin &
Seider, 2012). To that end, administrative support at all levels is crucial.
While in the minority, there were some indications that policy change
was forthcoming, or in progress, at some of the participants universities in
terms of RPT processes and engagement-inclusive policy. Additionally, several
participants discussed how they were able to leverage university policy to
support for their engagement initiatives. Aspiring community engagement
scholars may find these reflections useful in considering ways they can mobilise
policy in support of their own activities. There are also implication for
academics on the job market concerning the types of policy supports that may,
or may not, be available for the work they wish to do — i.e., what questions
they might ask prospective employers before accepting a position.
5.2 Searching for Non-Academic Supports in the University
Between the senior management and academic staff, there is typically a
centralised administrative layer providing services and supports for the
activities of a university — such as research offices, media divisions, and
libraries. The supports that HSS scholars are able to connect with and utilise
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have an impact on the nature of the engagements they are able to conduct. This
section looks at the role of these central divisions in supporting HSS scholars in
their community engagement; participants views on the type and level of
support will be presented. A theme that runs through the section is how these
divisions are ill equipped and insufficiently resourced to meet engaged
academics’ needs.
Support divisions have the capacity to provide skills, resources, and
access to various networks (including connections to the community, industry,
and media) that an individual academic may not possess. When effective, they
enable greater interaction with the community and promote quality research.
When such units are ineffective (e.g., under resourced, unclear policy
guidance), they can create additional frustration and bureaucratic load for
community-engaged scholars. While there were support divisions at every
participant’s university, they were generally poorly utilised and not seen to be
meeting the needs of the academics. Too often these divisions were seen to be
policing (media and research offices in particular) and inhibiting community
engagement activities rather than increasing, rather than decreasing, barriers to
community engagement. Generally, participants felt that support divisions just
did not “get” community engagement. For institutions to adequately resource
community engagement, a top to bottom assessment of supports (such as using
the framework employed in the Carnegie Community Engagement
Classification) may be a prudent first step in identifying service and support
gaps.
5.2.1 Support Divisions for Community-Engaged Research
When considering the state of engagement in Australia and Canada, it is
perhaps telling that there were very few examples provided by participants of
how their universities were facilitating connections to community. How
universities support the interactions between academics and external
communities are metrics in both the Carnegie Classification and the ARC’s
Engagement and Impact Assessment. While participants were able to identify
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supportive individuals that they could reply on, there were few examples of
dedicated supports for community engagement.
Participants struggled to identify what types of supports they wanted to
extend or increase their engagement activities. Lydia, for example, said, “I
would like to see more support. I don't know what it would look like, I wish I
did. I have ideas, I guess. But some sort of recognition or support for that kind
of work that happens ahead of time.” The “ahead of time” work includes the
energy and effort that goes into building relationships, which are often
critically important to the research process in community-engaged HSS
research, but for which affordances (such as release time for a partner meeting)
are rarely made. Leon, an associate professor in Canada, suggested that the
community engagement agenda is new and that, “this is a mind shift for
universities to recognise the value of community-engaged research,” and
suggested that “offering some micro-funding, [and] offering opportunities to
meet members of the community or associations who can get you there,” were
useful starting places for universities to consider when resourcing engagement.
Despite this lack of clear vision, participants did offer ideas on how they
could be better supported in their community-focused work and also offered
examples of initiatives they had encountered.
5.2.1.1 Missing the Mark with Training
Key informants in the study provided examples of how their universities
are attempting to connect scholars with community. Christina, a staff member
of a tech transfer group in Australia, discussed a new program that they were
piloting called a “social innovation boot camp.” It was, she said, a “test to see if
we can make … innovation sexy to the humanities. And social innovation and
social enterprise may not be the answer, but it’s trying to link innovation and
humanities in some way.” To that end, they brought in consultants to run
workshops, which she described as:
A day-long workshop where it’s basically taking people through, putting
a business model together for a social enterprise. So, it can be not for
profit but still be sustainable… There can still be that impact from a
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social side and still have a proper business model and you can still be
entrepreneurial — you can still be innovative.
While the initiative provides training to HSS academics around considerations
for working with communities, it does not provide direct contacts or facilitate
ongoing relationships with community stakeholders.
As universities increasingly adopt business-centred approaches,
community becomes increasingly envisioned as stakeholders, along with the
interests of corporate partners (Jongbloed, Enders, & Salerno, 2008). The
training Christina discussed assumes that HSS scholars should be creating
social enterprises and being social innovators; however, the academic
participants in the study made no mentions of ‘social innovation’ or ‘social
enterprise’. There is a disconnect here in that they are providing training on
topics the university thinks scholars want or, perhaps more worrisome, the
university thinks scholars should be occupying, not what HSS scholars with a
passion for community engagement are thinking about. The focus for
Christina’s team revolves more mobilising research for commercialisation, so
the focus of the training is centred on the needs of the university and
academics, not necessarily a benefit for the community. Again, in the
community engagement space, much comes down to how ‘community’ is
envisioned. Too often community is conflated with industry — as may be the
case in this situation — which further marginalises those in community spaces
in need.
5.2.1.2 Embedded Knowledge Brokers
Knowledge brokers, whose role is to facilitate communication between
the researcher (or university) and the community (or organisation) have been
found to be instrumental in facilitating knowledge sharing between
stakeholders and researchers (Lyons, Warner, Langille, & Phillips, 2006). There
has been a steady increase in institutions investing in knowledge brokers, but
this investment has tended to favour health and science disciplines (Meyer,
2010). By coupling researchers and communities through knowledge brokers,
there is considerable potential for increased and improved community-engaged
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research, as well as research adoption leading to impact (Meagher, Lyall, &
Nutley, 2008). However, using knowledge brokers is not common in the HSS
disciplines and only one participant, Floyd, made any mention of them or these
kinds of supports more generally.
However, the insights from Floyd, who works in a centrally-funded
support unit that specialises in knowledge mobilisation and has adopted a
knowledge broker model, were very illuminating. He discussed the reaction
from community groups when word of the program got out:
When we started our programs and services outside the university, that’s
where things took off. And it tended to be the volunteer and not-for-
profit sector that kind of inundated us in the short term, where they say,
"wait a second, you’re telling us that you’re providing services and
support that would allow us to connect with academic research and
researchers? We don’t have to pay, and it can be really geared around
our needs?”
A key element of the knowledge broker model is bringing the parties together
early as, according to Floyd, “the relationship building piece at the front-end
strengthens the research.” His unit does this by “bringing people together
around the table who otherwise wouldn’t have gotten together. And at first it
was awkward, because folks were coming in with a lot of trepidation, like, "why
am I here? What are we talking about?” In some of the projects Floyd has
worked on, a knowledge broker is placed inside a community organisation. He
described an example:
[The] project focus was around youth homelessness, a real strong spot
for this researcher because it’s right in his area of research interest. But
the community broker we were working with had professional interests
in that before. So, as we started to explore that as a pilot the two of them
came together and it was this meeting of the minds.
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While Floyd’s example illustrates exciting potential for institutionalising
community connections support through a broker, this model is by no means
widespread.
5.2.1.3 Dedicated Engagement Support
When asked to identify specialised support units at their universities
offering information on community engagement, (possible examples might
have included: knowledge mobilisation office, impact office, and libraries),
overwhelmingly, they were unable to identify explicit supports. This is not to
say that units do not exist, but participants may simply have been unaware of
them. While they did not take the form of actual units or divisions, there were
some engagements supports identified by participants.
For example, Leon, pointed to a staff grant writer who was tasked with
supporting the faculty: “at first I was sceptical about how this person could
actually help me… There's a skill and there's a need because she sees all the
different applications and she knows what sentences work and what buzzwords
to use, so there's value in that.” The grant writer was responsible for a variety of
grants, not just those related to community engagement. Willson (2016) found
that while ECR’s were aware of specialised support units on their campuses that
supported their grant-proposal information needs (how to identify grants, what
to write, and where to submit, etc.), they also reported that budget cuts were
perceived as adversely affecting the supports they were able to receive from
support units (Willson, 2016, p. 119). Under budgetary constraints, additional
support individuals like Leon mentioned may be seen as superfluous.
Meredith, a professor in Canada, hypothesised why there might be so
few supports for academics doing engagement work, saying, “my sense is that
they [the university] don't really see the need to provide additional support,
because everyone’s [academics] just doing it, it’s [engagement] what they do.”
Her argument is that universities are not supporting engagement robustly
because engaged academics will engage regardless of supports available,
however, is not the case. Harley et al. (2010) found that HSS scholars reported
that a lack of supports from universities to reduce the barriers to entry for
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doing community-engaged work was seen as an obstacle to conducting
engagement activities. And it is not just organising and executing community-
engagement research, McNall, Reed, Brown, and Allen (2009) suggest that
assistance should be made available to evaluate community-university
partnerships as well.
It is hardly surprising that appropriate resourcing lowers the barrier to
entry for academics wishing to conduct community engagement. But, perhaps
the rhetoric around engagement is beginning to make waves in the structure of
support units. As a hopeful sign, Lydia pointed out that, “our Office of Research
Services just change their name to Office of Research Services and Community
Engagement.” Whether, and how, that name change will translate into tangible
supports for scholarly engagement in the community is not yet clear.
5.2.1.4 Library Support
No participant identified a library or staff in a library, such as an
academic librarian, as an information source to help inform their engagement
activities. Academics could very likely utilise library resources (e.g., journals
and databases) to identify supporting literature related to their engagement
activities, but participants did not reflect on this. Given et al. (2015) argue that
scholarly communications should evolve to be inclusive of the emerging
research engagement and impact space; however, based on participants’
experiences, they are not currently looking to libraries for this support.
One of the few mentions of libraries came from Dale, a senior lecturer of
English in Australia, who remarked on the how the physical space of the library
was previously accessible for community activities. He explained:
[The University] used to shut at seven, but they decided they needed to
shut at six… Now, for people who are office workers, that's not going to
work. Or retail workers, they finished at five thirty or five, they can't get
there in time for a five o'clock start. So really, that's made me give up in
that area.
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Dale had previously used his university library’s physical space to conduct
workshops, readings, and other activities, but the change in opening hours
restricted access and he had to cease using it. Libraries have a long history of
being a space for community to meet (Aabø & Audunson, 2012). When it comes
to how libraries can support engagement the physical space should be
considered.
Nicholson & Howard (2018) argue that academic libraries and library
information science (LIS) professionals are well resourced with the skills to
support the engagement and impact activities of scholars going forward.
Beyond physical space to meet with community, there are a wide variety of
services and supports that libraries could offer engaged scholars including,
metric support for impact assessments, engagement strategies, writing for
public resources, managing a personal website, altimetric support, open access
(with lay summaries) training, etc.
5.2.1.5 Conclusions on Support Divisions for Community-Engaged
Research
The key informants in the study were able to identify some division
support for community engagement, but the failure of academic participants to
do the same suggests that resourcing may be unevenly distributed amongst
universities, poorly advertised, servicing a small population, or a combination
of these factors. For universities, administrators, and advocates of the
scholarship of engagement, this deficit is critical to address.
5.2.2 Media Divisions: Serving Themselves
Section 4.2 discussed some of the ways that participants reported
engaging through media. Academics’ engagement with the public media is
often mediated through university divisions tasked with promoting the
institution, such as media and communications units. As with most things in
universities, while there are similarities in how institutions are structured,
there is also considerable variance. The role of media divisions, what they are
called, and where they are situated in the organisational structure can vary
considerably. There is little consistency in how universities structure their
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media and communications operations, which can make it difficult to know
who is responsible for what and who to go to for help. While some academics
looked for media opportunities and others were willing to engage with media at
the behest of their institutions some, like Traci, stayed away from media
interviews and favoured other types of engagement. She said, “Yeah!
[Universities] love them, but that doesn’t count towards any time.” Workloads
and remuneration for these types of engagement activities will be discussed in
relation to annual performance reviews, promotion and tenure (RPT), in
Section 5.1.
5.2.2.1 It’s All About the Undergrads
One of the primary complaints that participants had about media
divisions was that they perceived them as relentlessly focused on the
undergraduate experience and recruitment. Gloria, asserted that media
divisions are “focused on undergraduate recruitment, everyone else struggles to
get a voice or a vision.” However, Lillie, who supports engagement and research
training at her Australian university, suggested that while student recruitment
was historically the domain of media divisions, the portfolio (in her experience)
was extending to other aspects of the university experience:
Marketing used to be just marketing of the university to prospective
students; but now, marketing is conceived of very broadly. And it’s also
conceived as internal marketing as much as external.
Lillie was cautious, however, about the ways that university marketing was
developing. She was wary of university media divisions adhering to outmoded
models, pointing out that as traditional media, such as newspapers, downsize
their workforce, journalists take up roles in public institutions. Speaking of her
university, Lillie said, “we’ve got a lot of ex-journalists. They’re pretty much all
ex-journalists up there… They’ve got great knowledge of how the media works,
or how it used to work.” Indeed, O’Donnell, Zion, and Sherwood (2016) found
that 15% of journalists in their study who were made redundant from media
jobs found employment at universities occupying a variety of media
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communications job titles. However, whether or not universities amassing
former journalists results in positive or negative results for universities remains
to be seen (and additional research will be required), but it is worth noting that
there are individuals who are expert at engaging with the public (albeit in
certain ways) at universities who are often not interfacing with engaged
scholars as they do not fall within the purview of their portfolios.
5.2.2.2 Media Divisions: “They’re Everywhere!”
In order to identify appropriate media supports, academics must
familiarise themselves with the structure of the organisation. Such information
seeking is done through web-searches, intranet resources, and personal
networking. While the centralised media division may be focused primarily on
undergraduate recruitment and increasing enrolments, there may be other
departments nested within faculties, divisions, schools, units, and research
centres, that may be able to assist in their media, communications, and
promotional needs. Lillie proclaimed, “they’re everywhere!” Indeed, there are
also media or communications units at the central level within other portfolios,
such as engagement, advancement, or research.
Some participants, such as Leon, reported that in their school or faculty
there was a “media person on staff who’s responsible for the communication
out to the public” as a result of central units not providing adequate coverage
or support. “ So that’s a change for us. There’s actually people, [now] who’s full
time job it is to do this, so that’s nice to see.” Leon explained that these new
support staff take a proactive approach to connecting with researchers in his
school: “they come around, they knock on your door, ‘what are you doing? Tell
me about your research. Okay, we’re going to do a piece on you.’” While Leon
might contribute some written content, the media person is responsible for
“wordsmithing and the front-end stuff.” Their role is diverse, ranging from
hosting breakfasts where community and academics interact to producing a
quarterly newsletter. Leon noted, “so they just try and in various ways, they
tweet, and they do social media, just to get messages out to the community
about the type of research that’s being done.” Underscoring the importance of
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the media divisions as arbiters of information mobilisation, he stated; “if [the
university staff] didn’t come around and ask for that information I would never
do it, because, again, there’s no reward system for me to go out there. Though I
can see the value of it… I just do enough [external engagement] for my own
research. That’s a full-time job.”
Leon’s comments underscore the importance of media divisions in
promoting research beyond the walls of academia, particularly where there is
little impetus for academics to enter that space. However, his statements also
highlight the time pressures that academics face, as well as the reward
structures, which may mean that academics prioritise particular types of work
over others. As an axiom of management theory suggestions “what gets
measured and rewarded gets done” (Petersen, 1996). The activities rewarded by
universities are likely to be prioritised over those that are not rewarded. This
tension is explored further in Section 5.1.
In contrast with Leon’s experience, Dale found the media and
communications support ineffectiveness and even obstructionist. While he
knew that the units existed, they were often seen as a barrier rather than an
enabler to external engagement. Dale noted it was difficult to engage the media
unit to approach a potential speaker for a conference he was organising (that
included a community component). After waiting for some time for the media
team to respond he learned that his initial request had not been processed, so
he contacted the speaker directly. At this point he was frustrated, but had
secured the speaker so connected with media to make them aware. He detailed
what followed:
So I contacted them and said "don’t worry I’ve seen [the speaker] and he
says he’ll do it”… And they insisted that I run a bio past them… “We want
to see the text” and I said, “I’ve lifted the text straight out of university
news, adapted it slightly to make it warmer.” “We still want to see it.”
And I said, “as a lecturer in English with a long career in publishing I
resent being policed by your office from my copy.” “Well, I still want to
see it.” I think we had about five interactions before I finally sent it, and
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they said… “we’ll have to send it to [the speaker] for approval.” I’m just
kind of like “fuck off,” you know? I finally just used the thing, and we
had a very frosty kind of exchange. [The speaker] didn’t care at all, it was
that office just inserting their authority.
The notion of ‘inserting their authority’ was a reoccurring theme when it came
to support units on university campus in both Australia and Canada.
Participants often felt beholden to support divisions — that their time was not
their own as they were required to satisfy the demands of various units while
their own scholarly activities were temporarily put on hold.
Participants reflections on their interactions with media departments,
the supports they received, and the perceived values and goals of such units are
important as provide guidance for how university administrators and managers
might best task their media divisions to support engaged scholarship.
Generally, central units were conceived of as being ineffective and not useful
for the participants because they weren’t interested in community engagement.
Locally embedded units and individuals were seen as being more useful and
resourceful.
5.2.2.3 Competing Priorities for Leadership and Academics
Conducting interviews with academic participants and key informants
who support engagement activities often highlighted differences in engagement
priorities. These tensions are understandable, in part, because individuals in
the organisation are required to produce different outcomes. When it came to
media engagement, there was often pushback from participants considering the
increasing expectations of their universities to do more with fewer resources.
Conversely, key informants argued the importance of academics acting in ways
that they felt would best benefit the institution. This section uses comments
from Traci and Wilson to illustrate that dichotomy when it came to media
participation.
Traci, a lecturer in Australia, recalled approaching a media unit for
support in the past where she interpreted their responses as, “why would we do
that?” Whereas, when media had approached her it had taken the tone of, “you
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need to provide some content,” as though she has little say in the matter. She
said, “it’s usually from internal that the college or the university want to make
something glossy.” Of potential concern is that media units run the risk of
serving only their own needs and not responding to the needs of academics or
the range of communities that universities serve. This is a theme that ran
throughout the interviews with a majority of the participants.
In stark contrast Wilson, an administrator who supports academics’
engagement activities, suggested that promoting research and researchers is
key to building new relationships that benefit the community. He stated:
What we’re doing at our institute is saying, we need to profile you folks
more. So we bring in our marketing and communications and they’ve
got a different lens on it, and we’re saying, “okay, we’re going to
deconstruct all that, we’re going to take you and bring you to industry
and let you talk to the CEO … and say what you’re doing in your research
and see if there’s any intersection.”
Wilson’s top-down approach is an example of an administrative intervention in
support of engagement. As one of the few participants to discuss this type of
work, Wilson acknowledges that this is not generally a norm for academics. He
conceded, “my big issue on community engagement is how to get faculty
members to buy in, when they don’t see all of that [promotional benefit].”
Traci and Wilson’s examples are interesting to juxtapose. Where Traci
sees media’s requests as burdensome in order to “make something glossy,”
Wilson is frustrated by academics’ inability to see the benefit of such activities.
There is a tension between administration looking to promote and extend the
mission of the university, and academics who are feeling overloaded and
unwilling to take on additional workload. Gill (2014) suggests that the desire for
academics to take on ever more work is the new labouring mode in the neo-
liberal academy and that “extreme time pressure and long hours, and persistent
structural inequalities that are obfuscated by a myth of egalitarianism” (p. 24)
are leaving academics feeling exploited. When community engagement,
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including through media, is seen as ‘just one more thing’ that academics are
responsible to take on, it’s hardly surprising when there is little appetite to do
so.
5.2.2.4 Media Training Access Inconsistent
Issues of media engagement preparedness and training came up
repeatedly in the course of interviews. Participants detailed a tremendous
diversity of experiences with media training at universities, even within the
same country. Irvin, the Australian philosophy professor, described the wealth
of offerings from his institution: “there are regular workshops held by people
with very extensive experience in the media…people who are well known in the
media who hold workshops here, and apparently, they are very good.” Irvin
went to say that he had not attended the sessions however, as he had done
media training at other institutions. Similarly, Annabelle, a development
studies lecturer in Australia, indicated that there were several workshops
available on a range of topics at her institution, but she questioned the reach or
impact of the offerings: “is it reaching enough people? Who knows?” In both
cases, resources were available but larger questions loom around who is, or is
not, participating in training.
Where Irvin and Annabelle know of media training available but had not
attended themselves, Sarah, a senior lecturer of education in Australia, was
looking for media training but none was available. She believed media
engagement was something that the institution valued but failed to adequately
support: “I think if that’s an area that they want us to work in, I think we, well I,
need more support… I’ve never had media training.” Sarah, was worried that
she did not possess the requisite media skills, saying “it’s something that I’m
actually not very good at, because I’m quite enthusiastic, so I find that I’m not
tempered enough… I know that that’s an area that I need more skills in, and I’m
actively seeking support in that kind of area.” Sarah was identifying a gap in
resourcing at her university that did not exist at others. Community-engaged
scholars must navigate their institutions in order to identify what services and
supports are available to aid in bridging the gap between universities and the
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community.
While media training may provide benefits such as, “communicating in a
tight framework to a broad audience… hone one’s plain English, and trigger
reflection on one’s assumptions” (Orr, 2010, p. 29), the onus is always on the
individual academic to show integrity in their media dealings, regardless of
training. Orr (2010) suggests, “no-one should feel pressured into media work if
it does not cohere with their personality and skills” (p. 29). When it comes to
community engagement, there is no one right path. While media participation
may suit some, it may be unsuitable for others.
5.2.2.5 Social and Digital Media Misfires and Mixed Messages
As the media landscape changes, there is increased pressure on
academics to develop a personal brand (Kara, 2018; Wilbrink, n.d.; Tregoning,
2016). One component of a personal brand is a social media persona and
presence (Meishar-Tal & Pieterse, 2017). Gloria related how her university, in
encouraging social media use: “run all these campaigns to train academics in
how do to social media. They walk in, they do the training, and they [attendees]
never do it. They've set up a Twitter account and that's the end of that.” Her
belief is that, while training is vital, social media uptake and personal branding
may require on-going support.
While engaging with social and digital media (such as creating a
website) may produce intangible outcomes, such as increased citations,
increased exposure, connections to media, and links with collaborators, there is
generally minimal or no acknowledgement of said activities through RPT
processes (explored in depth in Section 5.1). Not only are such additional
activities not rewarded, they are not adequately supported by the university. If
universities are not providing tangible supports (e.g. training; IT support) to
enable this type of engagement, there is a clear inequity for staff who do not
know how to engage — for example, via social media — compared to those
who do and if universities value these activities, they should support them.
Traci described how she subverted the bureaucratic structures within her
university to comply with the requirement that her project have an associated
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web presence:
There’s directives … coming out and then everyone ignores them
because they’re idiotic — they can just be ignored — and then it’ll just
go away… And rather than deal with [the University], because again,
who do you ask to get a web[site]? … would be this idiotically long and
bureaucratic process of idiocy … So, I just use some of my research
funds, bought a GoDaddy account and did it on that.… Like screw you
[university], like it’s too hard to deal with them to get something done …
I’m not sure what goes on [in the IT department], it’s all a black box.
Traci’s comments indicated a disconnect between the directives being given —
in this case the requirement of projects to have a web presence — and the
institutional resources available to materialise them. Rather than relying on
systems internal to the university, she subverted the system by adopting an
external solution. Similarly, Dale described circumventing the institution in
order to communicate with the public as the systems in place were too
restrictive:
I learned very early on that it was much easier for me to record things
and do them on YouTube and list it, long before the university had a
YouTube channel. And when I was communicating with somebody in
the IT area, they said “would you mind telling me why you do this on
YouTube?” I said, “because the simpler than using the university's kind
of mechanism.”
Dale’s choice to use YouTube came down to ease of use, but that does raise
important questions about the usability and accessibility of campus-based
infrastructure. Sumner and Hostetler (1999) found that one of the greatest
barriers to educational technology adoption was limited technical support;
other factors included lack of training and time release (see also, Alshammari,
Ali, & Rosli, 2016; Sipilä, 2014).
Academics are having to navigate an increasingly bureaucratic space as
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many granting agencies require that researchers account for knowledge
mobilisation or potential impact strategies — websites and social media
campaigns can be an important part of the strategy. As participants like Traci
are using grant funding to purchase off-site solutions or adopt free solutions
(such as YouTube), rather than relying on university-based infrastructure, this
may indicate that support units are not fulfilling their service mandate
effectively or additional service capacities are required.
5.2.2.6 Conclusions on Media Divisions
In several instances, participants reported subverting official support
mechanisms in the name of efficiency and expediency, which brings to the
forefront questions about the role and effectiveness of universities’ central
support units. There may also be structural issues at play within institutions;
for example, a research website may be managed by an information technology
(IT) unit, but content development for that site could falls under a media or
communications division. Adding to the complexity is that large institutions
often have many support units that fall under a variety of institutional levels;
for example, a communications department in the school that is completely
disconnected from the university-level communications department, possibly
neither of which are versed in engagement as an activity.
Media is a mechanism through which many academics become public
intellectuals. They learn how the media works, what works, what the media
organisation they’re working with want, and deliver. That means learning how
to write for the public but also how to speak to, and ideally with, the public —
synthesising very complex ideas into short, easily accessible and digestible
pieces for the public. Many academics are wary of losing the respect of their
colleagues as the public intellectual can be viewed as less academically rigorous
than those whose activities are focused within academia (Jacobson, 2006). This
is often referred to as the Sagan Effect (named after famed scientist Carl Sagan),
which is “a negative view of those who work to spread their scientific expertise
beyond the academy” (Ecklund et al., 2012). The literature suggests that a
reason that many scientists may avoid participation in the media is to avoid
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being seen as something less than a fully-committed academic (for example,
see, Besley, 2015; Ecklund et al., 2012; Martinez-Conde, 2016; Orr, 2010). The
literature is limited as the focus rarely extends to non-science disciplines;
however, in the majority of cases in this study, participants wanted additional
support in order to enter public space through media engagement. In whatever
form that support took, be it connections with media, media training, or
assistance with drafting plain-English summaries, support systems fell short.
There is considerable scholarship looking at the relationship between
media departments, journalists, and scientists (for example, see Bentley &
Kyvik, 2011; Besley, 2015; Gascoigne & Metcalfe, 1997; Poliakoff & Webb, 2007;
Ruth et al., 2005) but additional research is needed into how best to support
those in the humanities and social sciences as there is a notable deficit of
knowledge and research in this area.
5.2.3 Multifaceted Engagement Support
Leon and Floyd provided the most comprehensive examples of how their
university’s administration supported community engagement in a multiplicity
of ways — moving beyond policy and into concrete action. Leon, an associate
professor of information science in Canada, reflected on how his institution has
backed up its strategic direction by, for example, offering ‘micro-funds’ for
community-based projects that could be easily obtained through a short
application. Leon illustrated how the funding was structured:
It’s just a strategic direction that researchers should leave the campus
walls and go out into the community and do different projects and to
help fund that the university at the president’s level sets up funding. So,
if you’re an academic and you want to do some community engagement,
you can apply for small micro funds of five thousand dollars. They have
you fill out this short form, two-page thing, most of them get approved
and you just have to go out.
While not a tremendous amount of money, the scheme sends a clear message.
Making internal funding available for engaged work is consistent with best
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practice recommendations for institutions looking to advance the scholarship
of engagement (McNall, Reed, Brown, & Allen, 2009, p. 328).Funded things are
valued things, and the fact that the university made the application process
quick and easy, minimising the barrier to accessing the funding, suggests they
are encouraging applications.
The administration has gone further at Leon’s institution than many
others in the study by establishing infrastructure and fostering what could be
termed a community of practice on the campus. Leon described how this looks
in practice: “there’s a steering committee that’s in charge of building a portfolio
of community projects. So, they’ve actually built a database and you can register
your research project in this database so other people can find you. And they
facilitate workshops and gatherings.” In the case of Leon’s institution, they have
resourced their strategic direction (that it is within the purview of the university
to be conducting community engagement activities) with funding,
infrastructure, training, and informal community building.
The other example came from Floyd, who manages a knowledge
mobilisation unit in Canada. Knowledge mobilisation is a requirement of SSHRC
grants, so the unit name is not surprising or unique. What was rather surprising
was that, aside from Floyd, only one participant (Camille) mentioned knowledge
mobilisation in passing. Knowledge mobilisation is a tool case of strategies,
including engagement(s), that are intended to generate greater impact from
research. No other participant mentioned a similar unit to Floyd’s
Floyd detailed how the vice-president of his university believed that the
technology transfer model could be repurposed for the humanities and social
sciences. The vice-president was able to acquire grant funding to create the
knowledge mobilisation unit, which supports academics across the university
including in HSS disciplines, by assisting with community connections and
providing training. The unit’s mandate is closely aligned with the university’s
commitment to community, particularly around mobilising research to have an
impact on community. Through administration identifying ways to resource this
unit, there have been tangible benefits not only for the researchers but for the
university as a whole, which has been able to increase their grant funding. Floyd
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discussed how this structure has brought the additional funding:
[The vice-president] has been able to provide some significant
leadership across Canada and around the world. I think the institution
likes the fact that it has unique service capacity to support its
researchers, one example being… in about six or seven years our offices
provided support to about 125 research teams to help articulate their
knowledge mobilisation strategy. Of those hundred twenty-five, it’s
brought in over forty-seven million dollars in research funding, because
a lot of these are large scale grants.
Floyd did not indicate what portion of grants came from HSS disciplines.
Hamel-Lambert et al. (2012) suggest that “sustained dialogue with
institutional leadership is critical to creating institutional structures and
sustaining resources for community-engaged scholarship” (p. 144). Units such as
Floyd’s knowledge mobilisation unit can act across boundaries, as facilitators
between academics and the institution in sustained dialogue.
If institutions are serious about their community engagement policy and
mission having an impact, a university’s actions and policy must align (Skolaski,
2012). Policy needs to be backed up in tangible ways in order to increase the
likelihood of academics participating in substantive community engagement
activities.
5.2.4 Conclusions on Non-Academic Supports in the University
The under-resourcing of community engagement is something several
engagement researchers have lamented (see, for example, Barnett, 2005; Bond
& Paterson, 2005; Ginsberg, 2011; Hil, 2012; Holland, 2009; Jaeger & Thornton,
2006; Winter, Wiseman, & Muirhead, 2006). Across the board, interviewees in
this research felt that there was little dedicated support available for
community engagement. Given the literature, this finding is hardly surprising,
but understanding the contextual considerations of induvial participants
permits one to envision the types of supports that could/should exist.
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Participants suggested that, occasionally, specialised knowledge of
community engagement existed in research groups or centres, not the
university at large; they were uncertain if those were resources available to
them if they were not group/centre members. So, though engagement and
community knowledge on a campus might exist, it may be inaccessible.
As discussed in Chapter 2, there are examples globally of support units
on campuses tasked with supporting community engagement, but the
academic participants did not reflect on such units in their own contexts. It is
intriguing that there often senior positions at universities with the word
engagement in the title — for example, Deputy Vice Chancellor, Engagement
— yet few resources for supporting academic’s community engagement
activities. This may reflect how universities broadly define engagement.
Since the mid-nineteen nineties, there has been an increase in
community engagement rhetoric at universities (Holland, 2009). Glossy
brochures are produced proselytising commitment to the community
engagement and it is written into visioning statements and strategic plans; but,
in many cases, the rhetoric has been little more than aspirational and is rarely
resourced (Watermeyer, 2015). Watermeyer found that support for community
engagement was often “dictated by chance and the individual proclivity,
sympathy and munificence of line-managers” (p. 337). There are, however,
universities that have made it a mission to increase the supports that they offer
to community-engaged academics (Nyland, Clarke, & Davies, 2017). External
appraisals of university-community engagement — such as those conducted by
the Carnegie and Kellogg foundations in the United States — take into account
the supports that universities provide (Franz, 2009b).
The support mechanism —specialised units tasked with supporting
community-engaged scholars — was, based on academic participants’
understanding of their universities, minimal to a point of being virtually non-
existent. Participants generally found media and communications divisions
unhelpful and self-serving, with community-engagement ranking far below
undergraduate recruitment on their priority list. There were a few reports of
participants identifying individuals in research offices who supported
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engagement activities, particularly in relation to assisting with grants. The key
informants however, pointed to a number of initiatives and models that were
working on their campuses. It is intriguing — and points to an institutional
disconnect — that the academic participants, who all identified as community-
engaged scholars, did not know of these services (if they existed in their local
contexts) or make use of them.
5.3 Conclusion to Chapter 5
There are a variety of enabling factors that universities may consider
when resourcing community engagement. Some, such as policy, guidance, and
support senior executive, are top-down while others, such as a crowdfunding
initiative, are more grassroots. While institutions may profess to believe in
community engagement, there was a notable lack of services and supports
available to participants. If institutions are to robustly support engagement, it
must be done at all levels of administration and management, and through
engagement affirming policy. Those at smaller universities, or institutions with
a traditional teaching focus, were able to find more supports overall. The other
critical element that must be attended to is RPT processes, because if
engagement matters, it should be rewarded.
When it comes to being or becoming an engaged scholar in HSS
disciplines, navigating RPT processes and policies (local and institutional in
which engagement policy is rarely explicit and often non-existent or implied,
may be a challenge. Changing how academics are rewarded by acknowledging
engagement activities is a multi-level problem that requires several solutions.
As explored, changes can happen at a local level, an institutional level, or even
national and international levels. However, continued pressure from popular
international ranking systems of institutions that rely on traditional measures
of academic success must also be taken into consideration. There are many
guiding documents in addition to those related to RPT that community-
engaged academics draw on to shape their careers and determine their
activities. Those documents, when they include community engagement, are
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often definitionally unclear about engagement and include activities such as
committee or association work. The EI 2018 assessment in Australia may well
further complicate this space as universities look to further incentivise the
types of activities valued by the assessment. The known details of that
assessment, as well as societal impact generally, are taken up in Chapter 6.
If universities profess to believe in community engagement, it should be
recognised through RPT processes, supported by management and facilitated
by support divisions, including units dedicated specifically to community
engagement. From the contributions of participants, few of these are
happening, and if it is happening, it is only in pockets. This disjuncture
between aspirational policy (for example, in university visioning documents)
and policy in practice (or lack thereof) relegates engagement to a piecemeal
activity across higher education. For the emancipatory promises of an engaged
citizenry through engagement to be realised, it has to be elevated beyond
empty rhetoric.
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Chapter 6: Discussions and Findings
Societal Impact: Unprepared and Apprehensive
By moving scholarly work out of the academic realm, community
engagement is a potential pathway to research having tangible impacts on
society. Whereas Chapters 4 and 5 are concerned with the ‘what,’ ‘why,’ and
‘how’ of community engagement, this looks at how engaged HSS scholars
conceive of societal impact. In doing this, the chapter addresses research
question 3 (and in particular 3a). Research question 4 is addressed throughout
the findings and discussion chapters.
Table 6.1: Research Questions
Participants in this research came to the interviews with their own
understanding of the term ‘impact,’ and while a brief definition was provided
during the interviews (as discussed in Chapter 3), their initial, spontaneous
explorations of the term denote a variety of understanding among the
interviewees. When analysing the data, it became clear that the concept of
impact came up in a few interesting ways in the interviews prior to the
interviewer explicitly asking about societal impact. The first was expected, that
academics raised the topic of academic impact through measures such as
citation counts and h-indices (for a history of those measures, see Borgman &
Furner, 2002; Galyavieva, 2013; Thelwall, 2008). Measures of academic impact in
relation to the RPT processes have been discussed in Section 5.1.
The second, and more interesting way, that impact was introduced into
the conversations by participants was in relation to their research and the
betterment of society. Several participants described why they were drawn to
the research topics they investigate, and a desire that their research projects
3. How might academics who engage in community engagement activities inform academics who are not engaging in such activities? a. What implications might there be for measuring societal impact,
including through formalised assessment frameworks? 4. What are the information behaviours (e.g., information needs,
seeking, use) of academics who participate in community engagement activities?
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have an impact. This desire of community-engaged scholars to have an impact
on their communities has been discussed in Section 4.1.2.
However, the ‘impact agenda’ has the potential to further marginalise
HSS disciplines. Reale et al. (2017) found that assessments of societal impact
were often based on assessments found in the natural sciences, and critiqued
this measurement approach in relation to HSS (which they label SSH)
disciplines: “the predominant methods tend to underestimate the value of SSH
research outputs because efforts fail to properly take into account the
distinctive features of SSH research that differ from the natural sciences” (p. 8).
As such, this assessment model has the potential to undervalue HSS research,
and even marginalise HSS disciplines as they do not ‘measure up.’
The potential influence of societal impact assessments will be explored
below, but it is ironic that those whose work does have a great impact on their
community (and/or in the public at large) may have extreme difficulty, more
than many other researchers, in completing a societal impact metric because
the impact that they have had on individual lives is tremendously difficult to
measure (Given et al., 2015). As Jake, a professor in Canada, said, “to paraphrase
Einstein (I think), ‘a lot of things that are important can’t be measured and a lot
of things that can be measured aren’t important.’” This theme is one that came
up often in interviews.
To avoid ambiguity about what ‘impact’ is being discussed, the term
‘societal impact’ is based on the ARC’s statement that: “research impact is the
contribution that research makes to the economy, society, environment or
culture, beyond the contribution to academic research” (Australian
Government, Australian Research Council, 2018a, p. 5). For many of the
participants, the notion of societal impact held little interest and they spoke
only briefly about it. Although some Australian academics may foresee the
potential for impending societal impact assessments to impact funding, as UK
academics have as a result of the REF (Joly & Matt, 2017), generally there was a
‘wait and see’ attitude among the participants. At the time of the interviews,
because impact assessments were not affecting participants’ work on a day-to-
day basis, a good portion of them had not really considered it. This is an
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interesting finding in itself — they were a cross-section of community-minded
academics, yet the concept of societal impact, and evidencing it, was not on
their radar. Meredith, a business/economics professor in Canada, suggested
that many academics would only consider the effect that their societal impact
would have on their careers when it was vital to do so:
I think in a lot of cases people just don’t have the energy to change.
People are just going to what they’re going to do. So, unless it gets to a
point where there’s a serious immediate impact on people not being able
to do what they... it’s the frog in boiling water, that wasn’t boiling when
it started, until it gets pretty bad you may not feel the need to act.
With a multitude of ever-changing initiatives in higher education, it is difficult
to know what ones will take hold in ways that will impact academics
substantively. Meredith’s comments speak to a fatigue that she perceives
academics experience. While some will acknowledge the impact agenda and
build associated skills to monitor and evidence the societal impacts of their
research, many will wait until it is mandated or required, or gets replaced with
another measurement or initiative.
The Canadian participants’ views on the importance of fundamental
research is also reflected in grant funding in the Canadian context. The 2018
Canadian federal budget (which was released after interviews were conducted)
allocated almost one billion dollars to fundamental research. It was described
as by Finance Minister Bill Morneau as, “the single largest investment in
investigator-led fundamental research in Canadian history”
(https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-018-02529-6). While participants
could not have foretold the government’s upcoming budgetary announcement,
their comments about societal impact underscored a not only their own belief
in fundamental research, but also emphasized (as supported by the
government’s funding announcement) a belief that basic research was valued in
Canada.
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The Canadian experience is in stark contrast to the innovation agenda in
Australia (Australian Government, Australian Research Council, National
Innovation & Science Agenda, 2015), which participants saw as the
‘marketisation’ of Australian higher education. They worried how such market
forces may erode research quality or dictate research priorities. While the
sample size of the study is not large enough to establish definitive comparisons
between countries, this was one area where participants’ reflections of the
values of the higher education systems, and the mechanisms propelling them,
differed. Additional research is required to further explore not only academics’
beliefs and experiences in this area, but also the priorities expressed at various
levels of ‘the system’, from universities to government ministries.
The Australian academics in this study are not alone in their critique of
the current market forces within higher education. Brown (2010) asserts that
marketisation has resulted in competition for research funding in Australia
(along with UK) and suggests a “significant degree of marketisation [in] Canada
and New Zealand” (p. 17) as well. The fight for research funding means that
researchers are motivated to align their projects with national priorities and, it
seems, market forces under the guise of innovation are a national priority
currently in Australia. Indeed, the purpose of the National Innovation and
Science Agenda (NISA), which introduced the Engagement and Impact
Assessment, “was to incentivise higher education institutions to increase
engagement with industry and government to increase the positive impacts
that research has on the economy and society more broadly” (Zardo, Barnett,
Suzor, & Cahill, 2018, p. 21). In such a research landscape, acquiring funding for
fundamental research may be a challenging proposition. Market forces, and the
marketisation of higher education, may adversely affect researchers’ ability to
conduct the basic research that interests them.
However, conversely, in the context of this research, marketisation and
the desire for research that has a demonstrable impact may open up
opportunities for community-engaged HSS scholars who are able to assert the
practicality of their work.
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The following sections address, in more depth, participants
understandings of societal impact; what value, or lack of value, they see in
introducing societal impact metrics; how they envisage societal impact might
be measured and accounted for; and their concerns around how societal impact
may further marginalise HSS disciplines.
6.1 Definition Ambiguity: What is Societal Impact?
During the interviews, participants were asked “What is your
understanding of societal impact?” Many had not heard of it, other floated a
guess as to what it might be, while some had a fairly robust understanding of
how societal impact was emerging in their particular context, as well as
internationally. This section looks at their responses to illustrate a range of
understandings that participants had of societal impact.
More than half of the participants were not aware of the term societal
impact, particularly as it relates to formal assessment initiatives being
introduced in some countries. When asked to reflect on it, in the moment, the
responses were often not informed by a working knowledge of societal impact.
For example, Sarah, a senior lecturer in Australia, had difficulty differentiating
between impact and influence, saying, “I have this whole problem with impact
— as well as what that really means and how it’s measured — what’s influence
and what’s impact. I really struggle with how you define those two concepts.”
While the idea of societal impact was vague in Australia, it was almost
completely off the radar of Canadian participants.
Institutional and governmental assessments of societal impact are
relatively new, and therefore not prominent in university discussions. Because
of this, thinking about their work as ‘having impact’, something that is to be
assessed, was unusual for the participants. They were doing work in the
community, not thinking about definitions.
Social media reach was one idea mentioned by a few participants when
asked about social impact and how it could be accounted for. Altmetrics have
emerged as a way for capturing social media activity, downloads of scholarly
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and non-scholarly writing, and other potential touch points where academics’
research is asserting influence (for example, Bornmann, 2014; Sugimoto &
Thelwall, 2013; Urquhart & Dunn, 2013). For example, Joy, a media and
communications lecturer, ruminated on how this could be seen as impact,:
It’s a real shame that altmetrics don’t count for anything, they should. I
can prove impact of one of my pieces of writing, one of the early pieces,
because I have this whole Twitter stream of people talking about how
they used it in designing a workshop in a university in the west coast of
the states. Somebody saw it pop up in their feed and they tagged me…
People are actually using my stuff on a practical level.
As with most aspects of this research, participants were confused by
definitional issues. Altmetrics can demonstrate engagement and reach only;
you cannot demonstrate impact, that you have influenced practice or changed
someone’s life, through altmetrics. While altmetrics can potentially point to
either academic engagement or engagement more broadly (Priem, Taraborelli,
Groth, & Neylon, 2011), and may allow Joy to demonstrate a pathway to impact,
through social media engagement, the statistics do no constitute impact.
Camille, a professor of education in Canada, had been on a committee
looking at ways her university could improve community engagement activities
and recognition, and so had heard of societal impact. Given that community
engagement is a potential pathway to societal impact, it is not surprising that
she made this. However, in spite of her eagerness to see engagement
acknowledged and rewarded, she was not thrilled at the prospect of societal
impact metrics being introduced in Canada as they had been in the UK (REF
2014):
The UK system, quite frankly I hope it doesn’t come here, because it sets
up brutal competition, not collaboration, because you know we’re also a
community, academia is also a community and the level of competition
that it can engender, rather than collaboration.
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Despite the fact that Camille was not making a clear distinction between
community engagement and societal impact, her worries may be well founded.
Chubb & Watermeyer (2017) indicate that the REF has, indeed, created intense
competition between academics as well as intuitions:
The eagerness or desperation that characterizes academics’ attempts at
generating grant money, in this case partially through exaggerated
claims of prospective impact, as emblematic of an albeit, forced
collusion with HE’s [Higher Education’s] competition fetish and market
logic. (p. 2369)
Camille was cautiously optimistic, however, that perhaps there were more
useful ways of accounting for societal impact, and was keeping abreast of
developments domestically and international. She highlighted that one of the
problems with defining and measuring societal impact was that “impact isn’t
always, you know, the end part of the research, but it could actually emerge
from the very nature of the engagement itself.” In effect, simply conducting the
research may have impact. This is a difficult thing to account for and she
worried that what she had seen thus far was not nuanced enough to account for
the whole research process.
A majority of Australian participants felt they were familiar with, and
had an opinion on, societal impact and the evaluation of it. When asked about
it, Gloria responded, “the government is introducing new impact measures, it’ll
be interesting to see what they are.” Traci, a sociology senior lecturer, was a
little sceptical of societal impact assessments and worried it would lead to over-
valuing the importance of research conducted with industry, sarcastically
suggesting that “any money is good money and the more money you can get
from doing idiotic projects with industry, great.”
Though participants in Canada were less familiar with the concepts, as
leader of Canadian community education faculty with an engagement mandate,
Jane is on the pulse of engagement and impact both nationally and
internationally. She described societal impact as a number of potential things
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and underscored how there is a lack of clarity of the term. She suggested that
the reason evaluation and reward of social impact has not been adopted more
widely is that accounting for nuance is more difficult than counting easily
countable things:
Everybody talks about it [societal impact] a little bit differently, right.
For some people it might be changes in policy, for other people it might
be an open door where there wasn’t one before, for others there might
be you know, a community group that had this success in something, for
someone else it might be having some impact on a planning decision the
city makes… There’s lots of different ways to demonstrate impact, but
not likely, a number… it’s all about change and the impact you’re
having… no wonder your basic, you know, top 100 university doesn’t
really know how to talk about this, because it’s pretty easy to count the
papers, and look at the student evaluations, and it’s really hard to figure
out narratives.
That both the REF and EI 2018 adopted narrative based case studies points to a
belief that the agencies behind them have an understanding that societal
impact is intangible and not easily counted.
Irvin, a philosophy professor, was optimistic that his discipline would
fare well in assessments based on his understanding of societal impact: “The
idea that we have to show, as I understand it, actual effects in the sense of
changing practices outside of the academy… We are actually very well
positioned to do that.” Irvin’s comments reflect a deeply held view on the role
of universities in society and the belief that researchers, who are employed in
public institutions and possibly receiving public money in the form of grants,
should be accountable by improving the world through their scholarly
activities.
When it comes to societal impact, participant responses ran the gamut
of possible understanding. Some participants, particularly in Canada, were
optimistic of the possibilities despite of not fully knowing what shape societal
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impact assessments might take. Others were wary of another administrative
requirement that they would be committed to completing with an unknown
outcome. The following section addresses the potential value of impact
assessments, and in doing so also highlights what participants considered to be
‘red flags’.
6.2 Justifying What We Know: The Value of Impact Assessments
When participants reflected on the potential value of societal impact
assessments, the results were mixed. Those who were familiar with the societal
impact space had strong feelings that they were happy to express; of those less
familiar, a few provided a feedback based on their limited knowledge while
others felt that they did not know enough to comment at all. Views ranged
from being in favour of societal impact assessments and seeing positive
opportunities; seeing both good aspects and bad, and stressing it would come
down to delivery; and being opposed to, or at least highly sceptical, of societal
impact assessments.
Gloria took a pragmatic approach, suggesting that there is a recent
opinion that universities are not providing value to the public. She felt that a
shake-up was required and, though she did not know what that would look
like, was encouraged by discussions of societal impact in relation to the role of
universities in society. She explained how, in many ways, the public perception
of universities was not positive:
I think in Australia we have lost that argument. It’s now widely believed
that universities are not, by nature, a public good, that they don’t
deserve to be fully funded by the government and through taxes… And
yet, the military hasn’t lost that… So there are other parts of public
discourse that are comfortable with public good… We’re allowed to fund
submarines [but] we’re not allowed to fund knowledge. We’re allowed to
fund our investigations into how bad wind farms are, but we’re not
allowed fund climate science.
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She suggested paying that introducing societal impact assessments might be a
pathway through which the role of universities could be re-envisioned (or
reinvigorated) in society. She provided an example based on the experiences of
ECRs:
As impact becomes more and more of a factor, it’s giving young
academics reasons to engage… which will look good in terms of impact.
But also, because [a venue like] The Conversation is so reliant on social
media push, it also encourages those younger academics to engage in
social media more actively, which again improves impact, and it actually
improves citations for their formal papers as well. So, there’s a whole
bunch of knock-on effects.
It is clear from Gloria’s comments that she believes strongly that academics
should have a role in society, outside of the walls of academia. In order for
research to have an impact on society and lead to change, engagement with
various stakeholders, be they government, industry, or the public, is required.
Gloria sees focusing on societal impact as a way to increase engagement. If
impact is incentivised, engagement is too as it is generally required to realise
impact. Gloria’s optimism concerning the utility of societal impact assessments
to motivate greater engagement was in the minority amongst participants.
Participants from a diverse range of disciplines had positive opinions on
impact evaluation. Gayle, an associate professor of public health in Canada, felt
that having researchers ruminate on the societal impact of their research could
be a useful exercise:
I think there is value in having to really try to wrap your head around
what is the short, and maybe long term, effect or impact or output or,
you know, how are we making society a better place? Which is the whole
bigger question of social sciences and why we’re the researchers that we
are. We care about some aspect of society and community; therefore, we
do this work that we do. I think there is some value in asking that
question.
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Irvin , a professor of philosophy, thought that applied ethics was well
positioned to respond to societal impact assessments: “I believe that people
should be free to do really esoteric stuff, because you never know where ideas
are going to come from …[but] I think it’s reasonable for the government to ask
us to show that what we do matters.” Examining societal impact in an abstract
sense, for example by asking oneself ‘why does what I am doing matter?’ is a
useful thought exercise.
On contrast to this acceptance of impact evaluation, it has been argued
that a culture of accountability actually decreases academic innovation and
productivity (Chubb, 2017; Grant, 2015). Simply put, people are too busy filling
out forms and dealing with management to get the work done. In the
Netherlands, Matthews (2018) found that full professors “spend just 17 per cent
of their time on their own research. Teaching, research supervision and
‘management and organisational tasks’ were all bigger commitments.” Whether
management of impact assessment and reporting will reduce the actual amount
of research being conducted remains to be seen and additional research in the
coming years will be required. But if research is not having an impact, is that
time being well spent?
Floyd, the knowledge mobilisation unit manager, took a pragmatic
approach, suggesting that if academics were going to be expected to measure or
account for the societal impact of their research, they should be recognised for
it. He described how he would like to see societal impact considered for RPT
processes:
If there are going to be any changes around an imminent impact agenda,
well I hope with that comes opportunity, I hope that comes with
recognition. I hope it comes with a degree of balance where, all right, if
this is going to be valued will you take a bit of your teacher
responsibility off so that I can do this effectively if it’s going to be
recognised.
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As has been explored previously, in Section 5.1, balancing academic
responsibilities can be a challenge but when activities are positioned within
workloads and RPT processes, the time spent can at least be accounted for.
Lillie, a research administrator who works with researchers across
disciplines, said the topic of societal impact started to generate conversation at
her university. In her estimation, the response to evaluation and assessment of
impact was generally more positive from those in STEM disciplines than those
in HSS disciplines:
Humanities push back, are against it most strongly. They’re most critical
of it. Because they’re trained to be critical, right. Scientists are either all
on it and love it to bits and want more, more, more, because they
understand, they’ve got a sharper understanding of what happens when
politicians don’t [for example] get climate science… There’s a very strong
awareness in the science disciplines that it’s really important for the
public to know for their own survival, and ability to do science, that as
far as I know, doesn’t exist as a discourse in the humanities really at all.
Lillie’s argument about public relevance is a reflection on science
popularisation and outreach. STEM disciplines have a long history of making a
public case for their relevance (as discussed in Section 2.3.6). Science
communications as a field of its own has emerged in recent years, including
with formal degree programs; this is in stark contrast to the limited efforts HSS
disciplines have made to engage with the public (Metcalfe & Gascoigne, 2012).
Other participants were more critical of the prospect of assessing
societal impact. Lydia, an associate professor of education in Canada, was
frustrated by the idea of having another thing to report on, saying “what are
[the] metrics for?… I largely oppose having to measure, and record, and report
everything.” Another Canadian, Jake, also worried that societal impact
assessment would come down to metrics — things that can be easily measured.
He illustrated the fallacy of that logic:
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When people get real quantitative on me I’ll say “how many units do you
love your children?” Well, pretty awfully hard to measure that, but is
there anything more important to you? So, should we say, “you have no
impact on your children” or “it doesn’t really matter because we don’t
have a good measurement of it.” No. So we could take a philosophical
position and say, “we just don’t have the measurement technology yet”
and from a strictly philosophical perspective I’m willing to entertain that
as a possible perspective. But from a pragmatic view, to say “let’s accept
the fact we don’t have a useful way of measuring a lot of things that are
super important, and for some of what we do the anecdotal and the
intuitive are probably pretty good reflections on the value of things.”
Being able to only quantify impact is problematic and Jake’s critique gets to the
heart of why adopting the correct method(s) for addressing impact is so
important. For example, insisting on quantitative measures may run the risk of
marginalising very important research that has had tremendous impact, but
which there are no numbers to support it. The UK REF and the EI 2018 have
chosen to use case studies in their assessment; while being able to provide
quantitative evidence may support a researcher’s case study, a compelling
narrative with a variety of evidence (including qualitative evidence) may more
accurately explain the societal impact of the work.
On the oppositional end of the impact evaluation spectrum was
Annabelle, a development studies lecturer in Australia, who was outraged by
the suggestion that social science academics should have to report on the
societal impacts of the work they do:
It’s a trope, because no researcher, no academic worth the basics of their
pay, can afford to be so divorced of realities of humanity that they do not
represent what’s going on in the appropriate way. And those that do get
a kick up the backside. There’s enough of the checks and balances with
all the critiques and other things that happened with people’s
representations of reality and what’s going on.
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Watermeyer (2016) suggests that the ‘impact turn’ is the result of a “re-
rationalisation of academic research according to terms of economic, and to a
lesser degree, societal, merit” (p. 202). A new understanding of the role of
universities in society is the result of two neoliberal agendas, commodification
and regulation (Burawoy, 2011). Annabelle’s comments speak to this pressure to
further commodify research (and every aspect of higher education) and highly
regulate the actors (academics) within the system. Her logic was that the very
nature of the humanities work is to make societal change, to have an impact,
and that attempts to mechanise or measure societal impact are, as Watermeyer
said, born out of anti-intellectual neoliberal thinking and would only further
delegitimise the work of HSS researchers. This form of surveillance enables
market-driven forces to influence the nature and types of research being
pursued.
Finally, there was Dale. A senior lecturer nearing retirement, he could
not be bothered to entertain any notion of the usefulness of an exercise aimed
at capturing the societal impact of research:
I know that it’s [my activities] got the impact from informal feedback,
but of course... that doesn’t fly now… People still come up to me and say
“something you said twenty years ago on television, I’ve remembered
that” … and that’s very rewarding, but of course it’s anecdotal evidence
and it’s not really of much interest to administrations now. I’m just
totally confident that what I do has that impact. I’m not really interested
in measuring it to tell you the truth.
Dale’s comments reflect both how he sees his role in the academy and his
frustrations with an increasingly managerial-ised academic landscape. At the
heart of it, he was drawn to the work in the first place to make an impact and
considers it an affront to his professional identity to now be asked to justify,
measure, and report his impact — a difficult exercise for humanities scholars to
perform, based on the fact that the models being implemented are focused
highly on STEM disciplines.
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The commentary from participants demonstrate the considerable range
of opinions on societal impact assessment, ranging from cautiously optimistic
and thoroughly opposed. As the societal impact agenda continues to gain
traction, additional research will be needed to further understand how
academics are internalising it and whether they are changing their scholarly
practices as result of it. One of the major concerns for participants was what
would be counted and what would not be, which is addressed in the following
section.
6.3 Tracking Societal Impact: What Counts
Though the conversation around societal impact is becoming less
abstract in Australia because of the EI 2018 Assessment, when the interviews
were conducted there was a considerable gap in the understanding how the
assessment would roll out. There was a great deal of confusion around what
‘counts’ as societal impact. Participants reflected on some of their activities,
wondering if they would be admissible in some unknown scheme. They also
worried, practically, how some of their engagement activities would be
measured and reported. Finally, a few participants did share some local
initiatives at their universities where impact statements had been rolled out as
part of the RPT process. Those participants had a firmer grip on the shape
societal impact assessment is taking at university level.
6.3.1 Am I Having an Impact outside of Academe?
A handful of participants referred to scenarios such as ‘curing cancer’ in
STEM disciplines as having a very clear and definable societal impact, but
worried that their activities would be harder to quantify. Sarah pondered, “what
matters? If I’ve had an impact on one educator, who has made a difference in
one child’s life, is that enough? Is that enough? I would argue absolutely that’s
enough, because that’s changed that child’s life forever.” Lydia wondered how
the value of a specific act would be gauged, saying “some of our projects seem
sort of, on the surface, really silly. Like we planted a garden one time. While
somebody’s going to look at that and say ‘is that really a social impact?’ Except
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it was huge for the community for all sorts of different reasons.” Concerns
around measurement of impact are discussed further below.
A theme that ran through many of the interviews — and not just in
relation to societal impact — was that community-engaged scholars often do
research and work with community that is small in scale and requires minimal
supports (funding, infrastructure, etc.). However, small-scale community-
engagement activities can have a large impact on small community. Abdul
illustrated how he believed knowledge is developed over time, and that
sometimes immediate impacts are minimal but eventually, and often
incrementally, turn into something greater:
Let’s be serious about this, not every academic up there is going to come
up with this new Einstein Theory of Relativity, because knowledge is not
like that. So, most of our contributions in academia is going to be small
steps, here and there — I contributed here, I contributed there… Grains
of sands. And together multiplied they can count for something, but
individually it’s a small minuscule contribution. So how do you really
gauge the impact of that? Especially when you’re under pressure to
publish.
Many individuals working together in a team in the context of an
interdisciplinary project —which universities heavily encourage (Turner et al.,
2015) — makes deciding who gets to claim what impacts a challenging
question. For EI 2018, interdisciplinary submissions must report at least two
field of research (FoR) codes but a maximum of three; additionally, institutions
may only submit one interdisciplinary submission (Australian Government,
Australian Research Council, 2018b, p. 14). Large-scale interdisciplinary projects
often draw on many disciplines and therefore could conceivably include more
than three FoR codes. Deciding which disciplines/researchers get credit for the
impacts of the project can, and will, be a challenging proposition and possibly
marginalise some disciplines if the university chooses to bolster the other areas
involved. Illustrative of this issue, Kristine discussed a research program she
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was involved with that was addressing absenteeism in schools. The project has
several different partners and, in addition to her intervention, there were many
factors that may have contributed to a decrease in absenteeism. Kristine
reflected on the ownership of impact
We can look at “here’s, here’s where it started, here’s where my research
started, and we can see the chronic absenteeism drop” … But the
question is, is that because of my research? … There are various other
parties who were invoked in the project; so they’re delivering breakfast…
they’re delivering a literacy group… That’s an example where… I can
show exactly like, there’s a line, I can show you the schools that we
worked in, I can show numbers… I don’t know if that’s my research
impact. Would that count?
The issue of what types of societal impact ‘count,’ and which do not, is
something that has proved difficult to tease out (see Bornmann, 2017; Gunn &
Mintrom, 2017; Joly & Matt, 2017; Reale et al., 2017; Williams & Grant, 2018;
Zardo, 2017). The results of EI 2018 and subsequent analysis will provide insight
into what types of impacts are valued, at least in the current Australian context.
6.3.2 How will we Evidence Societal Impact?
When it came to the mechanics of how the HSS participants might
actually account for societal impact, there were, again, a range of answers. For
example, media and communications lecturer Lillian pointed out that
quantifying something is antithetical to qualitative research, saying “it is so
difficult to prove the worth of what you’re doing when you’re working in
qualitative research and you’re working in that sort of social justice space.” Joy,
who does social justice work, had similar concerns, and argued that whatever
mechanism was to be adopted needed to take into account disciplinary
differences:
If we’re dealing with small things then we need to have small targets.
Can I say that my research has changed anybody’s life? No, it’s not going
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to save the world, it’s not going to change, you know, it’s not going to
save anybody’s life. It might make people feel good about what they do
but how do you judge that?
Regardless of project scale, how one judges impact and the significance of that
impact is challenging to ascertain. Joy’s concern speaks not only to her project
but to the HSS disciplines more broadly.
The idea of conducting pre- and post-interviews was suggested to
evaluate outputs by multiple participants as a method of capturing the impact
that a social science research project has had, but when your impact is broader
than a specific group, that method may be insufficient. When Meredith, who
studies telecommunications infrastructure in Canada, came up blank when
pondering how she would account for the impact her work has had on the
public: “if you think about the impact that you’re actually having on public and
trying in some way to advance a public interest, then it’s a really important
thing, and we don’t have very good ways of measuring that.” Many participants
also adopted the term ‘measure’ to describe capturing societal impact data. For
qualitative researchers, the idea of having to produce numbers may come as a
challenge. If instead we consider ‘evidencing’ impact — which includes things
like testimonials — there are more tools to express the societal impact of
research.
One of the major concerns that participants had was the timeframe used
to judge societal impact. Does impact have to happen within a year? Five years?
Ten? Lydia reflected on her own work saying “I feel like the impact is a twenty,
thirty, forty, fifty-year impact.” Floyd, who supports engagement activities,
suggested that quick turnaround times and perpetual reporting cycle could be
counterproductive to societal impact:
It’s the lack of reflective capacity. If everybody is... if the motor is
churning and you’re like close to one hundred percent all the time, how
do you make a space to step back and say, “what kind of difference have
we made?”
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Floyd told a story about running an internship program. Six months after the
internships had completed, he followed up with a survey. The results of the
survey were less than satisfactory and, more or less, the internship pilot was
abandoned. He explained what followed:
Three years later, over the course of about a month, two or three of the
community organisations that hosted an intern spoke with me… they
said “[Floyd] you’re not going to believe. You know that internship in
2000, you’re not going to believe what’s happened.” That flipped the
switch for me, and kind of made me realise that, I didn’t ask the wrong
questions, I asked the questions at the wrong time. The longitudinal
aspect of it is, is important, to allow things to move from research,
dissemination, and then impact, we hadn’t even gotten to the uptake
part yet.
The impact of research conducted with humans by HSS scholars is not often
immediate and, as such, timeframes reporting on impacts were worrisome for
participants. This consideration has also been noted by others following the
development of societal impact reporting schemes (Given et al., 2015). The EI
2018 framework acknowledges the evolution of research, with one project often
building off another, and allows a six year reporting period for the primary
study being evaluated; associated ‘pre-cursor’ research within the previous 15
years can be included in the report (Australian Government, Australian
Research Council, 2018b). But, even these timelines may still insufficiently
demonstrate societal impact.
6.3.3 Preparing for Societal Impact: Training and Support
One of the concerns expressed by participants was that the training and
support received during their academic careers does not necessarily prepare
them for the types of non-academic outputs that might be expected in light of
the impact agenda. Meredith provided an example of how academic training
does not prepare them to mobilise their research, saying “it doesn’t occur to
academics that we can just call government people up and say, ‘hey I did this
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work, you might be interested, can I come and meet you.’” She felt that is not
part of the academic culture of many disciplines to assert yourself or your
research in this manner but that, in fact, such initiative could result in the
research having more impact. There have been recent calls for the ‘activist
academic’ (Marcus & Oransky, 2017) and a long history of activism in the social
sciences (Divinski, Hubbard, Kendrick, & Noll, 1994) yet many academics
remain quietly within their institution.
Australian research trainer Lillie believed that societal impact
assessments would bring about a new professional apparatus as universities
learn to manage it. She noted that, in universities,
We spend an enormous amount of effort on that [management of
research metrics]. So, this army of people who are incredibly skilled at
preparing the metrics reports, and the narratives that go with it. So, I
think those people will extend outward into helping individual
academics prepare impact statements, narrative impact case studies, and
you only have to go to the UK to see where that’s going… It probably
won’t so much be a matter of professionally developing the academic —
[though] I think there’ll be a certain amount of that will be done — but I
think there’s also a hard-headed realisation that some people won’t or
can’t [create such outputs] and that they’ll be a group of people,
professionals — a profession that will grow up around that.
As higher education becomes a more competitive space, rankings matter more
and more. If there is weight put on societal impacts in Australia or Canada, as
has been seen in the UK, where 20% of institutional funding in 2020 will be
based on REF results, having an administrative structure in place to manage
how institutions’ research is perceived and rewarded, may be inevitable
(Watermeyer, 2016).
In addition to the considerable amount of time such an exercise takes
away from academics, in the UK there has been an increase in staffing in
university’s research offices to contend with the administrative requirement of
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completing the REF (Sayer, 2014). Only time will tell as to how the impact
agenda will impact universities elsewhere and the sorts of professional-level
staff positions that need to be created respond to societal impact evaluation
and reporting requirements.
There may be utility in units devoted to monitoring and reporting on
societal impact, but the types of supports provided will determine their
usefulness to academics and institutions. Floyd’s unit, which is focused on
mobilising knowledge, argued that professional administrators like himself
could bring considerable value in monitoring the community impact of
research over a long period of time.
I think one of the value propositions of our office, given the fact that
researchers at a certain point in time within a project, are allowed to
disengage, we provide some institutional memory. If we have supported
a project’s development, we’ll touch back with the researcher, but
generally with their non-academic partners and say “hey you know that
thing you did back in 2010, is there anything happened that we should
be aware of? Can we help promote the important story that has taken
place” and often the community organisation, they’re dying for someone
to tell… there are unanticipated outcomes, there is unanticipated
impact, and I like that our office can be the group that provides that
longitudinal support to help tell that story.
In addition to being the institutional memory of a project’s societal impact,
Floyd discussed how his unit works with researchers to help them think about
building impact into their research:
We’ll ask our teams explicitly at the front end, “what are your, what is
the desired impact” and I’ll pose it to them as a longitudinal question “in
a perfect world, in three to five years, what would you like to see
changed as a result of this” and in some cases it’s very isolated with
regard to an intervention or a very specific policy issues, and it could be
policy within an organisation, but in some cases it’s a, it’s a meta issue.
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“We want we want our work to inform something across the country or
across the province.”
This type of capacity building allows universities to maintain institutional
knowledge and connections with community partners even if academics move
to other institutions. Such an approach not only increases the capacity for
impact generation, but it also has the potential to reduce the workload of
academic staff.
The difference in opinions of participants was occasionally quite stark.
For example, while Camille saw the value of societal impact assessments, Sarah
worried that a great deal of money and time being spent over something that
would dissolve into the ether, saying, “in another ten years it probably will be
[something] different.” While it is unknown what the EI assessment will cost in
Australia, the impact portion of the REF 2014 alone is estimated to have cost
£55 million (Jump, 2015). Yet despite these efforts, it remains to be seen what
will materialise from societal impact assessments. Unlike in Australia, where
university funding is federal, universities in Canada are funded provincially
which decreases the likelihood of a national research assessment exercise (such
as the REF 2014 in the UK or EI 2018 in Australia) being implemented. Instead,
societal impact will likely continue to be accounted for through knowledge
translation and mobilisation activities in the context of granting agencies and
individual universities.
6.4 Impact Apprehensions: Metrics Running the Research Agenda
The societal impact section is capped off with observations from
participants on the role that assessing societal impact might play in academia,
particularly in HSS disciplines. There was limited optimism, as participants
were generally wary of the form(s) societal impact assessments might take.
Leon pointed out that there are already many factors shaping the
direction of research, including institutional and funding body priorities. The
main funding body for HSS in Canada is the Social Science and Humanities
Research Council (SSHRC). With each funding cycle, SSHRC will highlight
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various future challenge areas that the think needed addressed. Within that
context, according to Leon, “the type of research that is getting funded now has
to have a strong practical element, and some societal impact contribution.”
Annabelle, a lecturer in Australia, worried about the long-term impact of this
type of agenda-setting approach:
If our research projects are simply being funded around whatever sort of
interest to government and policy, like we’re servants to it — no
innovation happened. So, innovation will come from other places. And
it’s not that there’s a brain drain in Australia, there’s no brain growing.
Another Australian, Joy, suggested that there was a trend towards practical
research in the Australian context, and that concerned her, particularly around
getting funding to support community-facing research:
I think it’s going to be worse in the next few years in Australia as they
move to only funding… [practical] research. That’s going to be a real
problem, particularly in the humanities. Because our partners, even
when we do community engagement, don’t have money.
Though purely opinion, the concerns voiced by Annabelle and Joy around
governmental agenda influencing funding may be well founded. Following the
interviews, it came to light that the former Australian Education Minister had
personally intervened and cancelled the funding for 11 projects that the ARC
had decided to fund to the tune of $4.2 million. All of these were in the
humanities (Moses & Piccini, 2018).
In Canada, Nathaniel, an associate professor of English, was particularly
concerned with how HSS disciplines would be affected by societal impact
assessments:
You can track citations, and yes, you can kind of evaluate publications
based on the quality of the journal, and the number of citations, and
other articles that you get. But measuring the impact of community
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engagement type scholarship or being a public intellectual, is almost
impossible to do. Because people can read and be affected by your article
and change the way they think or change the way they approach a
particular idea without ever citing you, or without ever telling you and
everything.
Many of the participants comments underscored a frustration that HSS scholars
deal with on an ongoing basis, in that it is difficult to quantify that which they
felt cannot be quantified. Dale was frustrated by this neoliberal drive to
quantify all aspects of academic work, explaining that:
One of the problems with the whole emphasis on quantification is that a
lot of things that we do in the arts can’t be quantified, but there’s an
expectation that should be.
For Lydia, an associate professor of education in Canada, the nature of
humanities work was being undermined by societal impact assessments: “the
value of the humanities is that people learn to think and challenge and
question and can see the world in different ways. Well that’s not the same as
patenting some drug or some business thing.”
Each participant’s observations are based on their individual situations
and knowledge of existing systems of accounting for impact. Grant et al. (2009)
suggest that any system that is developed to report on societal impact should
take into account the unique circumstances in each discipline. Wilson, a senior
administrator in Canada, pointed out that shoehorning academics into a
specific model of community engagement or impact might be counter-
productive.
To a certain extent… there’s no one way to be an academic. I mean, one
of the pleasures I’ve always had from working in universities is meeting
other people who, in some ways kind of teach you how to do your job, I
mean you pick up different things from then in all kinds of different
areas and different ways. From some people, like I’ve seen them be real
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hustlers in some ways and try to turn their research into interesting
things, try to create possibilities, and stuff like that, I mean, I really
admire those people. There are other people who kind of like very
productively spend a lot of time reading, and I’ve learned an enormous
amount from people like that as well. So, you know, you get pulled in a
lot of different directions and I guess there’s a lot of different ways to do
the job.
If anything, the focus should be about opening up more ways for individuals to
exercise their individuality in the way their approach their roles. It is in that
space, when you are allowing people to pursue passion and work to their
strengths, that innovation occurs. Whether that will come to pass in the long
term is a matter of waiting.
6.5 Conclusion to Chapter 6
Big questions loom large around societal impact. Where will it go? Will
it be incorporated into RPT process? In the Australian context, what happens
after the EI 2018 results have been released? Will Canada follow Australia’s
lead? What administrative apparatus will emerge as a result of the new focus on
societal impact? Will it further entrench neoliberal ideology into university
campuses? It was clear from participants that societal impact is muddy and that
those in HSS disciplines feel challenged by the notion of quantifying or
demonstrating their impact.
Research question 3 related to what community-engaged scholars
wisdom might impart on those looking to have an impact on
community/society through their HSS research. While the participants shared
their insights and their concerns, at this stage, their contributions are limited in
this endeavour by the newness and instability of the how the move toward
evaluating and reporting on societal impact.
It is still early days for the assessment of societal impact in higher
education. Perhaps things will sort themselves out as there will be increased
clarity around definitions, what counts as impact, and how it is evaluated. But
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the same issues of lack of definitional clarity and geographic inconsistencies
that hinder our understanding of societal impact are also present in the
community engagement space and that, at least as an academic concept, has
been around for decades.
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Chapter 7: Conclusion
This qualitative research project provides insights into community
engagement activities by academics in HSS disciplines in Canada and Australia,
and investigates how they navigate pathways to community. As community
engagement is a potential pathway to societal impact, reflections on societal
impact assessments are also provided. Community engagement consists of a
wide range of activities intended to mobilise academics in community settings,
outside of academia. From data collected in semi-structured interviews with
academics and key informants in roles supporting engagement and impact
activities, the results tell the story of an emergent community engagement and
societal impact space and contribute to knowledge in both the scholarship of
engagement and information science. Additionally, this research has enabled
the development of a model for conceptualising HSS scholars’ potential
pathways to community.
7.1 Overview of Findings
This project explored the ways in which HSS scholars conduct and
mobilise their research activities and other academic endeavours into
communities, such as by working with community groups, providing policy
guidance, conducting workshops, interacting through media, or various other
activities. Central to the research was identifying what motivates community-
engaged HSS scholars to do community engagement work. Institutional
facilitators and barriers, and how the academics navigate these, are also crucial
to this discussion.
7.1.1 Motivation
While each participant had a different rationale for engaging with
community, the commonality was passion. Passion for community contributed
to participants’ identity as community-engaged scholars. They were not doing
community engagement work to progress their careers, because they were told
to, or because it was a requirement of their employment. Participants chose to
situate themselves, and their research and outreach activities, in community
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because they believed they could make a difference in their communities, or
society in general, with their knowledge and research.
The sentiment of participants was that what is most likely to lead to
success in academia is to put your head down, turn inward, and produce
publications in high-ranking journals for their disciplinary peers. The
participants’ rationales for engaging in community, however, came from a
deep-seated desire to contribute in a substantive way to (non-academic)
community. In spite of awards offered for engagement at some institutions, and
the possibility that engagement activities may be recognised, usually as service,
in RPT processes, the perception of most participants was that community
engagement activities were not a priority at their institutions. This sentiment
was not universal, as a few participants spoke of initiatives at their universities
aimed squarely at changing the perceptions of engagement within the
university culture; however, they were not in the majority and community
engagement remains a fringe element in academe.
7.1.2 Academic Balance
Typically across universities, there are three pillars of academic work:
teaching, research, and service (though, as stated in Chapter 5, the service
component has various names). However, it is difficult to make clear
delineations in academic work — scholarly work often does not fit into discrete
boxes. How does one classify, for example, a workshop in community that will
produce research outputs? Boyer (1990, 1996) suggested that community
engagement activities should be integrated into all aspects of academic life, as
it touches on all three pillars. But, as discussed in Chapter 5, universities
generally require academics to state where their activities ‘sit’ and there is little
clarity in how engagement activities are categorised. Activities cannot sit across
multiple pillars in RPT processes or workload allocation. While academics may
be able to claim their community engagement work under their service
allocation, that is most often less valued than publishing in journals with high
impact factors when looking at pathways to academic success. Consistent with
the literature, participants reported working long hours and, often, taking on
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more than they should in their work roles, to fit their community engagement
activities into their expected traditional scholarly responsibilities, particularly
publishing.
When it came to balancing community engagement activities with
teaching, research, and service requirements, participants’ experiences varied
considerably, but the majority admitted to not knowing how to strike an
appropriate balance. Many reported sacrificing their personal time to take on
additional responsibility — a sort of ‘volunteer’ activity in the community that
was unaccounted for by their employer — to meet or maintain community
need. While some, mostly senior academics, reported prioritising engagement
activities in their academic workload, others — particularly ECRs —
acknowledged that their engagement activities were intentionally curtailed in
order to maintain their academic trajectory. However, ECRs reported an
intention to engage in the community to a greater degree once the precarity of
their employment was resolved through tenure or permanent contracts.
7.1.3 University Positioning
While university visioning documents and strategic plans often portray
community engagement as an institutional priority, participants felt that this
was often not supported in policy, including through RPT processes. In many
cases, however, they did receive encouragement for their engagement activities
from those in supervisory or administrative positions. Encouragement at a local
level (within a faculty or school, for example) may seem like permission to
pursue engagement activities, but academics would be well advised to ensure
that they continue to adhere to overarching institutional requirements and
reach acceptable disciplinary standards (e.g., producing publications,
contributing to academic associations, editing journals, etc.) in order to remain
competitive should they desire/require a career.
Participants reported little institutional support being available to meet
their information needs on the topics of engagement and societal. Media and
communications units tended to focus on undergraduate recruitment and, as
such, participants trying to connect with community generally did not look to
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them for support. Further, few participants were able to identify any sort of
support on issues of engagement or societal impact. Research offices did
provide engagement information for a few participants, but it was by no means
universal and, generally, the information was seen as being regulatory or
punitive, focused on measurement and reporting rather than being supportive
and encouraging.
In the context of graduate research education, participants
overwhelmingly reported that community engagement was generally not part
of their doctoral program. This deficit in training around community
engagement meant that participants, in most cases, had to forge their own way
in the engagement space and identify information sources (e.g., scholarship,
frameworks, institutional policy, supportive individuals) independently. Later,
ongoing professional development for community engagement and societal
impact from universities for ECRs, or any level of academic, was also seen as
lacking.
Universities are bureaucracies that are slow to change. The increase in
scholarship on the topic of engagement, and the many promising initiatives
emerging globally (discussed in Chapter 2) including those reported by
participants, points to an increase in engagement dialogue and activities on
university campuses. In Australia, the ARC’s EI 2018 assessment may further
encourage engagement in the academy and put additional pressures on
universities to support engagement through staffing, funding, and RPT
processes. In light of such initiatives, additional research (discussed later in this
chapter) will be required to gauge how the engagement agenda is attended to
in the coming years.
7.1.4 Conclusions on Findings
The findings provide insight into how engaged academics envision their
roles as academics and their responsibilities to society at large. For some,
community engagement is a core part of their academic identity — not
supplementary to their other responsibilities. They weave it throughout their
academic endeavours, with community engagement touching on aspects of
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research, teaching, and service. At the other end of the spectrum are those who
have conducted minimal engagement activities, such as writing a piece for The
Conversation or conducting a public talk. There is, however, no ‘right way’ to
conduct engagement, just as there is no ‘right way’ to be an academic.
Community engagement casts a wide net and how community-engaged
activities contribute to academic identity differ as vastly as the engagement
activities themselves.
7.2 Contribution to the Scholarship of Engagement
This research provides insights into the experiences of academics in HSS
disciplines conducting engagement activities. Research and granting
organisations, universities, and society in general are increasingly prioritising
scholarship that engages and responds to community need (see Section 2.3).
While much has been written about engagement in science and health
disciplines (see Section 2.3.5 and Section 2.3.6), little research has been
conducted on how HSS scholars approach community engagement, why they
do (or not do) it, how those who do it engage with their communities, and the
barriers and facilitators (individual and institutional) to engagement. Some
people within HSS disciplines are skilled in community engagement, and this
research provides the opportunity for others to learn from these people. Their
contributions to this research outline the types of activities engaged scholars
undertake, the variety of pathways to community, and the supports and
challenges along the way.
The term ‘community engagement’ has been adopted widely by
universities and yet, as this research points out, the understanding of just what
it is and what is included under this umbrella term varies considerably. The
study serves as a mapping of the engagement and impact landscape for HSS
scholars, highlighting how participants have different understandings of what
community engagement is and how it is enacted in their local, institutional and
national contexts. It is a snapshot in time of where engagement is, or is
perceived to be by participants. The engagement landscape is rapidly evolving
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as institutions introduce new community-centric language into their mission
statements and RPT practices, and governments introduce new assessment
frameworks. In many ways, the scholarship of engagement is still in its infancy
and further research will be required to document its evolution; however, this
research does highlight that discussions are taking place and initiatives are
being implemented at universities to support the community engagement
activities of academics.
Researching the philosophies and beliefs that underlie and inform
community engagement activities by academics is “meta” in nature
(particularly in relation to community-based research), as it is scholarship
about scholarship. The participants in this study see community engagement
through the lens of their own discipline — political science, film studies,
communications studies, sociology, etc.; rarely do they conceive of their work
through the engagement scholarship lens. For a multitude of reasons
(individual desire, disciplinary norms, etc.), their research takes place in
community (including writing for the public or publishing via open access).
With the exception of a few participants, there was minimal concern with the
broader notion of engagement scholarship — how they and their research
activities are positioned within community and how such activities contribute
to an understanding of community engagement in academe. Participants were
motivated to do work in the community simply because of the outcome of the
work. For example, Emily’s research on the information needs of an Aboriginal
community does not look at how the relationship with the community group
was established, brokered, and maintained in order for the research to be
carried out equitably and ethically. The research detailed in this thesis,
however, looks at these ideas and the findings explore how universities can
better support activities in communities like those with which Emily engaged.
At the heart of community-engaged scholarship is the notion that
universities should, at least in some capacity, serve the needs of their
communities. However, the ambiguity of the term ‘community’ is problematic:
Does ‘community engagement’ include their academic community? Does it
refer to all of the general public or just a specific community? This is further
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complicated by impact assessments (including the REF and EI 2018) that
broadly define community to include the business community.
In an increasingly neoliberal university culture, there is a costing applied
to virtually all research. Participants expressed worry that industry needs may
drive how universities look and behave in the future. Participants talked at
length about the pressures to secure grant funding and partner with
organisations. As government funding has shrunk, universities have creatively
solved the problem by soliciting external funds, but this comes with a caveat
that funders have increased their influence on the types of research conducted.
For academics in HSS disciplines — especially in the humanities — this new
approach to funding has left many worried about the long-term viability of
their fields. That their work may not appear to be ‘applied research’ that has
immediate relevance to industry funders is deeply concerning. Participants
pointed out that the partners they work with in community seldom have funds
to contribute to research and hope that the researcher could secure financial
support for their community-based programming. Participants were very
worried that the term ‘community engagement,’ as it is used by their
institutions, could be subsumed by industry (or corporate) considerations.
They believed that this would undermine HSS research and marginalise the
communities that engaged HSS scholars seek to work in.
This research illustrates the complexity of community engagement and
societal impact in the context of two countries, at a point in time when
universities grapple with the direction engagement and societal impact are
headed. As governments increasingly pursue greater accountability through
metrics and measures, universities are adopting the language of community
engagement to make a case for their value in society. Scholarship on
engagement is critically important right now, as the future of universities will
be dictated, at least to some degree, by the perceived value they bring to
society. One argument that justifies the existence of universities is how
academics can work with community to solve societal problems. This research
contributes to that much needed scholarship of engagement by examining the
current state of community engagement and societal impact, from the
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perspective of a variety of HSS scholars; it then looks at systemic changes to
academic culture overall that would facilitate community engagement as well
as how individual universities can better support engagement activities.
7.3 Contribution to Information Science
While there are many information science scholars who do research in
community and participate in community engagement activities, there has
been little information science research where community engagement was the
subject of research. Similarly, the information behaviours of academics have
been studied in a variety of contexts (see literature review, Chapter 2), but there
have been no investigations to date into how community-engaged scholars
identify strategies to conduct community-engagement activities, carry out
community engagement activities, or communicate to others their engagement
strategies. As such, this research offers a significant contribution to information
behaviour research by exploring the information needs of academics who are,
or are looking to, involved in the broad range community engagement activities
outlined throughout this thesis. The findings of this research were that
academics acquired information about community engagement from a variety
of sources, including formal networks, informal networks, community,
information chaining with colleagues, and serendipity.
Again because of the definitional ambiguity of both community
engagement and societal impact, participants faced many information
challenges. Based on participants’ reflections and their understandings of
community engagement at their institutions, it is clear that there is little
consistency across higher education as to what community engagement or
societal impact constitutes. For example, the ARC’s EI 2018 definitions vary
greatly from what others use, both in guiding documents and the research
literature. That lack of clarity makes it challenging for academics looking to
find relevant information to support their engagement work, and further
muddies an already complex information space.
262
To add further confusion, the term community engagement has been
widely adopted by governments and in the private sector. While there is
overlap, there are unique considerations for academics — particularly for those
doing research with communities — that must be considered. All of these
uncertainties and the overall lack of clarity make getting accurate information
about community engagement a challenging proposition, as finding precise and
pertinent information on an ambiguous concept can be difficult.
Finally, this research highlights how academics filter their information
and apply it in strategic ways in order to conduct community engagement
activities. Participants across the board reported identifying information in
their institutions’ policy frameworks that would further support their
community engagement activities. Information use, in this way, allowed
participants to shape their community-engaged activities to institutional
and/or departmental missions and contexts.
7.4 Model: Community-Engaged HSS Scholar’ Pathways to Community
As discussed in Chapter 3, it is not a requirement that grounded theory
research results in a fully-formed theory. The grounded theory research process
can contribute to new ways of conceptualising the site of the research through
models, schemes, or frameworks. The model generated by this research (see
Figure 1) explores the disciplinary, individual, and institutional factors that
engaged HSS scholars navigate and negotiate in order to chart a pathway to
community engagement activities. The model is useful for both university
administrators and HSS scholars looking to identify the conditions that may
increase the likelihood of community engagements being successfully enacted
in their local contexts. The model explores what facilitates community
engagement work, based on the findings and discussions in presented in
Chapters 4 through 6.
The HSS Scholars’ Pathways to Community Model (Figure 1) provides a
mechanism for interrogating the local engagement context. Allowing
individuals to map their position relative to the university in order to
263
understand what challenges they may face when looking to conduct
engagement activities. For aspiring community-engaged scholars, the model
addresses many of the considerations around engagement that might not be
apparent on the surface. For example, understanding how engagement is
situated within a university’s RPT processes may have an impact on the
approach the academic takes with their engagement activities or initiatives.
Figure 1: Community-Engaged HSS Scholar’ Pathways to Community
The model outlines the many factors that can enable an academic to
conduct community engagement activities, based on participants’ engagement
journeys that followed a range of pathways. Though there are several factors
that make up this model, not all the factors may need to be present for
engagement to occur. However, when more enabling factors are present, fewer
barriers will exist and the pathway to engagement will be clearer. So, for
example, community-engaged scholars situated in disciplines with a tradition
of action research (discipline dimension), being done by a senior researcher
with connections to a community (individual dimension), while being given
release time for the research (university), may have more opportunity to do
research with community. There is also tension between the university and
discipline dimensions that both engaged-scholars and administrators would do
well to consider. Taking stock of disciplinary norms around engagement is
264
crucial when considering how it engagement can be further enabled at the local
level.
Additionally, for university administrators, the model provides initial
guidance of the considerations to account for, promote, and foster in order to
develop an environment that is supportive of community engagement. While,
for example, participants reported doing engagement work despite it not being
recognised in RPT, and that they would continue to do so, they also spoke of a
desire to be recognised for such activities through these processes. University
management can perform a forensic analysis of these factors in their own
context (i.e., university mission and values) to better enable engagement and
impact activities.
While the model provides a robust set of conditions that individual
scholars and institutions may consider to strengthen engagement capacity,
additional research is needed to map the facilitators and challenges to
community engagement from the position of community (explored in Section
7.5.3).
7.5 Future Research
The research conducted for this thesis has addressed the research
questions set out in Chapter 1; however, throughout data collection and
analysis several other gaps in the literature were identified. The following
sections explore various potential future research projects that can build on the
foundation set by this study.
7.5.1 Engagement and Impact in HSS
Measuring the societal impact of research in society has, in recent years,
occupied a great deal of resources, time, and space. The United Kingdom began
measuring impact in 2014’s REF (Research Excellence Framework) exercise.
With the ARC’s (Australian Research Council) introduction of the EI 2018
Assessment, the importance of measuring societal impact is likely to grow.
There is considerable debate, however, on the usefulness of these assessments
and questions as to what exactly is being measured (see Chapter 2). Of
265
particular concern to many HSS scholars and disciplines is the language that
has been adopted to describe, define, and determine what constitutes
engagement and impact. For example, in the white paper that was released in
2016 by the ARC and NISA (National Innovation & Science Agenda),
“commercialisation” was used 22 times, whereas there was only one mention of
“qualitative” research. The implications of how descriptions and definitions of
impact have largely adopted the language of STEM, and how these definitions
adequately — or inappropriately — apply to HSS disciplines is one area of
potential future research.
In addition, cross-cultural comparison of the UK (REF) and Australia’s
(EI 2018) treatment of impact and engagement in the HSS is required. Further,
there are other countries (e.g., New Zealand’s Performance-Based Research
Fund, https://www.tec.govt.nz/funding/funding-and-
performance/funding/fund-finder/performance-based-research-fund/) that
have embedded some elements of engagement into their broader assessments
of research impact. A comprehensive study of such engagement and impact
assessment strategies would inform how future metrics and measures might
approach HSS disciplines so that the unique contributions of all academics are
appropriately weighted and recognised. As social impact assessments are still in
their relative infancy, it is timely that we consider how those in the HSS could
be best represented, so that any needed changes to impact assessments are
developed and implemented.
7.5.2 Doctoral Preparation for Engagement and Impact
In many countries (for example, Australia, Canada, United Kingdom,
United States) academics are increasingly being asked to conduct community
engagement activities and report on the social impact of their research.
Participants in this research reported PhD students being “protected” or
“sheltered” from such activities by their supervisors. There is a worrisome
disconnect between the increasingly diverse expectations of academics’ roles,
with regards to societal impact and engagement, and the training that prepares
266
doctoral students to enter academia and embed engagement and impact
activities in their academic roles.
As the academic job market becomes increasingly competitive, it raises
the question as to whether students are receiving adequate training to enter
that workforce. By completing a thorough assessment of PhD programs at a
variety of institutions in multiple countries (including Canada and Australia), a
clearer picture would emerge of PhD students’ information needs and how
institutions can best address those needs. Interviews and surveys with current
PhD students, recent PhD graduates, and academics involved in hiring staff
into new positions would provide robust data to understand the preparedness
of the next generation of academics and inform how best to design and
resource graduate programs to embed engagement and societal impact
practices. Ideally, in future, a clearer picture will emerge as to what role
engagement and impact training and readiness might look like during PhD
training.
7.5.3 Meeting the Information Needs of Community
Many institutions have adopted — either partly or wholly — the notion
of community engagement. This research interrogates the state of community
engagement in HSS disciplines in Canada and Australia from the perspective of
individual academics. In order for community engagement work to happen,
institutions, disciplines, individuals (including administrators), community
members and organisations all need to be on board.
Central to community engagement philosophy is that research be
conducted with community throughout the research process: working
collaboratively before research process begins, building the research project
together, jointly conducting research, and mobilising the findings in ways that
are beneficial to the community. Unfortunately, much of the academic
literature has focused on “how” to do community-engaged research (and other
academic work, such as community service learning). Few studies have
considered the perspectives of the community, particularly the information
needs, seeking, and use of community through the research process. To
267
complement this additional research is needed to address: a) how
communities/community groups want to be engaged by academics and
institutions; b) the information needs of community-based research partners
with respect to research design and implementation practices; c) what
community (e.g. community groups, NGOs, partnership organisations) expects
from institutions and academic researchers (e.g. education, training, funding,
resourcing); d) how researchers might best support the information needs of
communities they are working with in a process of co-creation; and e) how
information can be shared effectively with community in order for research
findings to be adopted.
7.6 Practical Implications
One cannot begin to solve a problem without knowing the variables at
play, and this study goes far in shining a light on the extreme complexity of the
engagement and societal impact spaces. When this complexity is explored in
depth through qualitative analysis, greater clarity can emerge. This research
documents the types of engagement activities scholars conduct, how they
position their engagement activities as academics, what supports for
engagement they desire and what they receive, how they manage engagement
alongside other academic responsibilities, and the acknowledgement and
rewards structures concerning engagement.
7.6.1 Community-Engaged Scholars
For HSS academics conducting, or wishing to conduct, engagement
activities, the findings can provide a modicum of assurance that they are not
alone in experiencing feelings of tenuousness and confusion around
engagement and societal impact. There is tremendous variability in what
community engagement is, how it is enacted, and how it is supported. This
research provides a range of experience and illustrates how different
universities conceive of and provision engagement. On a practical level, the
findings provide useful guidance, based on the experience of community-
engaged HSS academics in Australia and Canada, for others wishing to, or
268
already, enter into community work. In some cases, academics can use policies
from their university, department, or elsewhere to justify their community-
facing activities; in other cases, they may have to ‘game’ the system or even step
completely outside of it in order to conduct engagement work.
Those wanting to do community engagement work would be advised to
be strategic by taking stock of their local situation and asking themselves
several questions:
x What are the policies regarding community engagement that my
research can be positioned within/under?
x If I choose to do engagement work, will it count towards the RPT
process? If not, am I okay with that?
x What supports might there be at my university that will support my
engagement activities (e.g. research office, library, media, IT,
engagement unit)?
x Will I be supported at the local level (e.g. school, faculty, department)?
x Are there individuals at the central university level who will support
me?
Academics should also consider how their research will be viewed in terms of
its societal impact. They might consider questions such as:
x Am I embedding ways of measuring impact into my research?
x Am I thinking strategically about impact when applying for grants?
x Will my research have impact and, if not, how will I account for that?
For new academics or those changing institutions, it is worth nothing that
expectations concerning how much time is spent on teaching, research, and
service vary from university to university. The promotion and tenure
conditions, such as expectations on number of publications, number and size of
amount of grants, external partnerships, etc., are dynamic and differ at every
university and even within universities. As such, it may be prudent to inquire
about workloads, promotion and tenure conditions, and how community
engagement work fits in, during the academic interview process.
269
7.6.2 University Support of Engagement
For universities, university administrators, and those in other
departments that support engagement activities, such research offices or
knowledge mobilisation units, who support engagement activities, the findings
provide insight into community-engaged academics’ concepts of community
engagement and societal impact, their motivation for undertaking such work,
and how they actually do the work. The reflections of participants may aid in
workforce and infrastructure planning, as the introduction of assessments such
as the ARC’s EI 2018 means more supports will undoubtedly be needed as
academics struggle to make sense of engagement and impact. University
administrators at various levels would do well to reflect on how engagement is
supported in their local context with questions such as:
x Is there clarity about what engagement and impact are and the role
they are expected to play?
x Is support for engagement dependent on location (e.g. school, faculty,
department)?
x Do policies and supports advantage STEM disciplines? If so, what
changes are required to ensure that HSS scholars are afforded similar
opportunities?
x What policy explicitly supports community engagement activities and
is it clear and easily accessible?
x If engagement and impact are permitted, expected, or required, how do
RPT processes account for engagement and impact?
x What supports exist to aid academics in their engagement activities
(e.g. research office, library, media, IT, engagement unit)?
x Is there training provided to support engagement in a variety of
contexts (research methodologies, media training, writing for public,
etc.)?
x Are there training opportunities or other supports to assist with
building impact into research projects, tracking research, and reporting
impact?
270
7.6.2.1 RPT Processes
The findings may be useful for institutions reviewing how they
conceptualise, acknowledge, and reward community engagement, particularly
in the context of RPT processes. Community engagement tends to be subsumed
into the notion of service, which is generally given less time within academic
workloads. Lumping community engagement into the already broad and
ambiguous category of service, often seen in academe as the third priority
behind research and teaching, may serve to delegitimise its function; it is ‘nice
to have’ rather than ‘need to have’, and with disciplinary norms driving
academic behaviour, activities rewarded by universities and assessed by
governments such as publishing and applying for grants become the busy
academic’s main priorities.
New forms of RPT might be envisioned that break down the silos of
teaching, research, and service and recognise community engagement in all
contexts. While there is movement to alter RPT processes to better account for
community engagement, it is generally piecemeal, only at some institutions.
While there are positive conversations going on inside, and across, disciplines
at various organisations, for the participants in this study, most of their
activities are neither acknowledged nor rewarded through RPT processes. In
order for community engagement to be adopted widely, it needs to be
acknowledged and rewarded through the RPT process and embedded in
research and teaching activities.
7.6.2.2 Graduate Education
This study highlights the importance of graduate preparation for
community engagement. The participants’ reflections on the lack of training
during their PhD for engagement and impact activities are important for
universities to consider, particularly in a context where, increasingly,
universities are required to offer internationally competitive programs. In light
of an increasing focus on societal impact in grant applications and through
performance assessments (RPT, as well as national government assessments),
universities are doing a disservice to their doctoral students by not explicitly
271
integrating these concepts into doctoral programs (or, indeed, any research
degrees such as Honours or Masters). Universities should consider offering
coursework explicitly addressing engagement and societal impact in order to
equip students for both academic and non-academic career trajectories. At the
core of this training would be strategies to mobilise research outside of the
academy, such as how to identify and work with community groups, and how
to build impact into research, including tracking and reporting on impact
during and after the research. Training on specific skills for researchers,
including writing for the public, interacting with media, and building a social
media presence should also be part of the training. In countries that do not
require doctoral coursework, a mandatory graduate certificate (or other such
structure) may be appropriate.
7.6.2.3 Professional Development and Support Units
As both community engagement and societal impact become
commonplace, universities will need to provide ongoing professional
development for both academic and professional staff, in additional to
professional staff explicitly tasked with supporting engagement. For new staff,
induction activities may be a useful mechanism to reduce the definitional and
conceptual confusion discussed previously, and provide details of who and
what supports are available. To that end, it may be prudent for universities to
radically re-envision how academics are supported in their community
engagement activities including through the creation of specialised support
units tasked with supporting engagement activities — a step some universities
have already taken. Such units would take on several roles, such as providing
training, brokering community relations or orchestrating opportunities to
make serendipitous connections, providing direction on best practices for
knowledge mobilisation, and assisting with impact statements. An engagement
unit could also manage university-based engagement and impact awards and
administer special funding for engagement-based projects, whether they are
teaching, research, or service related. Staff in units that support engagement
activities, ranging from information technology to libraries to marketing and
272
communications offices, may also require specialised training and guidance on
how to understand and support the engagement activities of their academics.
7.7 Conclusion to Chapter 7
There is great potential in community engagement for delivering on the
promise embedded in the motto of so many universities — that they exist for
the public good. For engagement to deliver on such a motto it needs to be built
into the lifeblood of the university. This research sheds light on the work some
community-engaged academics are doing and points to the fact that there is
much more to be done. To flourish, engagement requires an all-in, top to
bottom approach — from senior administration to reference librarian, from
tenured professor to newly-arrived doctoral student. To go beyond engagement
existing only in scattered pockets, institutions need to sufficiently facilitate
engagement through RPT structures, policy, training and supports. This work is
the continuation of a history of engagement scholarship illuminating a critical
need to better understand community-engaged HSS academics’ experiences
and highlighting the need for more empirical research and engaged practice in
the years to come.
273
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Appendix A: Sample Semi-Structured Interview Guide
I appreciate you agreeing to talk with me today. I’m going to ask you about your community engagement activities. As an academic who engages in community, I’m interested in your experiences and perspectives. In particular, I am interested in how you balance your various academic responsibilities (teaching, research, and service), conceive of community and what supports you require to conduct community engagement activities. As was mentioned in the information letter, I will be recording today’s session. I’ll also be asking you if you’d like to be anonymous, and if so, I’ll ask you to supply a pseudonym (if you’d like) at the end of the session. Also, at the end of the interview I will be asking you for any documents that relate to community engagement at your institution. I have some questions to ask but what I’m really interested in hearing your experiences, so we can chat about anything you think is important. I see this as more of a dialogue than an interview with set questions. Do you have any questions before we begin?
1. Tell me a bit about your community engagement activities. a. How did you get involved in these activities? b. What motivated you to participate in community engagement? c. How do you define community? d. How do you define engagement? e. Where might you find information on how to conduct
community engagement? f. What information sources do you rely on?
2. Tell me a little bit about how you balance your academic responsibilities (teaching, research and service)
a. Where do you feel community engagement fits in? b. What amount of time do you devote to community engagement?
3. Describe institutional supports for community engagement activities. a. Does the research office provide supports? b. Does the library provide supports? c. Are there other units that provide supports? d. Do you have colleagues that support you?
4. Describe the approach to community engagement at your institution. a. Is community engagement recognized formally? b. Is community engagement recognized informally? c. Is community engagement rewarded as part of promotions and
tenure processes? 5. Discuss initiatives around impact at your institution.
a. What is your understanding of societal impact? b. How do you measure the impact of your community engagement
work? 6. Reflect on how community engagement has affected you as an academic.
327
a. Are you respected for your community engagement activities? b. How do you feel others view community engagement in
academia? c. In what ways has community engagement altered how you
operate in academia? d. How do you see community engagement and the role of
academics societally? 7. Do you have any documents or websites that have been helpful in
making the transition, either to the city or the job?
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Appendix B: Information Letter
You are invited to participate in a research project exploring community engagement activities of academics. This research is for my dissertation and will contribute new understanding about this emerging field. As an academic who engages in community, I’m interested in your experiences and perspectives. In particular, I am interested in how you balance your various academic responsibilities (teaching, research, and service), conceive of community, and what supports you require to conduct community engagement activities. This research is in the field of information which is defined as a human-centred approach to research that examines information needs, as well as information seeking, use, and practices that occur within a particular context and are purposive, unintentional or passive. The research consists of:
x in-person interview x providing institutional documents (where permitted)
At the interview you will be asked for any documents (e.g. files, websites, etc.) that related to community engagement at your institution or in your department. Items may include promotion and tenure documentation, university visioning, department goals, etc. The benefits of participating in this project include being able to share your experiences – including successes and challenges – in conducting community engagement work. There is no foreseeable harm associated with participating in this research. At any time during the interview, you can withdraw your data from the study for any reason, without consequence. All data gathered will be kept confidential and will be de-identified. All participants will be given the option of being anonymised with a pseudonyms. All data will be stored securely and kept for a minimum of five years. The results of this study may be used to help in research, used in a dissertation, presented at scholarly conferences and published in journals. All information will be handled in compliance with standards for research data.
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The plan for this study has been reviewed for its adherence to ethical guidelines and approved by the School of Information Studies Human Research Ethics Committee at Charles Sturt University. For questions regarding participant rights and ethical conduct of research, contact XXX. The researcher, Wade Kelly, is a doctoral student in the School of Information Studies at Charles Sturt University. The research is being conducted as part of the coursework at the School of Information Studies. If you have any other questions, please contact Wade Kelly (+61 2 6933 2744 or [email protected]) or Prof. Lisa Given, primary supervisor (+61 2 6933 4092 or [email protected]). Your participation in this research is greatly appreciated. Sincerely, Wade Kelly PhD Candidate Charles Sturt University
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Appendix C: Recruitment Information
Dear Sir or Madam, You are invited to participate in a research project exploring community engagement activities of academics. This research is for my dissertation and will contribute new understanding about this emerging field. As an academic who engages in community, I’m interested in your experiences and perspectives. Your participation would involve taking part in one interview (approximately one hour); and, providing institutional documents (that you’re permitted to share) related to community engagement activities at your institution. This research has received ethical approval from the Human Research Ethics Committee at Charles Sturt University. Your remarks will be treated in confidence; you will be asked if you would like to be anonymous in the research and, if so, a pseudonym will be used for any quotes shared in the final report of this project. The benefits of participating in this project include being able to share your experiences, including successes and challenges, in conducting community engagement work. There are no risks involved in taking part in this research. If you are interested in participating and/or if you have any questions about the project, before agreeing to participate, please contact me ([email protected] or +61 437 913 236). I will provide you with an information letter that provides more detail on the project and can answer any questions. Sincerely, Wade Kelly, PhD Candidate Charles Sturt University
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Appendix D: Consent Form
I, _____________________________________, hereby consent to participate in a (print name)
research study about academic participation in community engagement activities conducted by a PhD candidate at the School of Information Studies, Charles Sturt University. I understand that:
x the interview will be recorded x all information gathered will be treated confidentially x I will not be identifiable in any documents resulting from this research x a pseudonym will be used for any non-identifiable information or quotes
for use in documents resulting from this research x I may withdraw from the research at any time without consequences x I may withdraw my data from the research at any time without
consequences x any information I provide will be stored securely x any information I provide will be kept for a minimum of 5 years
I also understand that the results of this research will be used in the following:
x dissertation x presentations and journal articles x other research purposes
________________________________________________ signature
________________________________________________ date signed
If you have concerns or questions please contact: x Wade Kelly, PhD Candidate, at [email protected] x or Charles Sturt University Ethics Board, at XXX
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Appendix E: Recruitment Information
22 January 2016 Mr Wade Kelly School of Information Studies Dear Wade, Thank you for providing revisions to your ethics application to the Education Faculty Human Ethics Committee for the proposal Community-Engaged Academics: Exploring Conceptions of Identity, and Social Responsibility.
The Faculty of Education Human Ethics Committee has approved your proposal for a twelve month period from 21 January 2016. The protocol number issued with respect to this project is 300/2015/45. Please be sure to quote this number when responding to any request made by the Committee. Please note the following conditions of approval:
x all Consent Forms and Information Sheets are to be printed on CSU letterhead. Students should liaise with their Supervisor to arrange to have these documents printed;
x you must notify the Committee immediately in writing should your research differ in any way from that proposed. You can do this on the form available at http://www.csu.edu.au/faculty/educat/research/ethics under the heading ‘Finalising your project, requesting a variation or extension’;
x you must notify the Committee immediately if any serious and or unexpected adverse events or outcomes occur associated with your research, that might affect the participants and therefore ethical acceptability of the project;
x amendments to the research design must be reviewed and approved by the Faculty Human Ethics Committee or if the project is no longer low risk research, must be referred to the University Human Research Ethics Committee before commencement. Forms are available at the link above;
x if your research has not been completed by 21 January 2017, you are required to complete a Progress Report form and request an extension to the approval. This form is at the above link;
x if your research has been completed by 21 January 2017, you are required to complete a Final Report, and again the form is available from the link above.
You are reminded that an approval letter from the FHEC constitutes ethical approval only. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any inquiries about this matter. Yours sincerely,
A/Professor Fran Press telephone 02 6338 4287 email [email protected] Education Faculty Human Ethics Committee
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Appendix F: Example Coding Tree
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Appendix G: Participant Descriptions
These descriptions of academic participants and key informants are
intended to give readers a brief overview of their interests, portfolios, and
connection to community engagement. Participants represent a range of career
stages from ECR to senior academics. Particularly in the Australian context, the
names of schools and faculties tend to be very specific and are often unique to
an institution; including such detail could easily compromise participant
anonymity and therefore unit names have been made as generic as possible
without compromising clarity and nuance.
Academic Participants
Abdul (38 years old), Assistant Professor, Business/Economics, Canada.
Historically, his university had a teaching focus but has adopted a research
agenda in recent years. Abdul’s community-engaged work focuses on the
Muslim LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, and trans-identified) community. His
work includes public scholarship in popular outlets such as the Huffington
Post, and advocacy videos coordinated by his university. His scholarly writing,
which in addition to journal articles includes one book, lends credibility to his
work as a vocal member of his city’s LGBT community, while advocating for
queer-identified followers of Islam.
Annabelle (undisclosed age), Lecturer, Development Studies, Australia.
Her employer is a top-ranked research-intensive university in a metropolitan
area. Annabelle’s work is in the areas of kinship, family, gender, and culture
and her research is firmly grounded in community. Some of her projects
pertaining to sustainable communities, youth engagement/empowerment,
ageing bachelorhood, women's economic empowerment, and building the
capacity of small NGOs.
Camille (66 years old), Professor, Education, Canada.
Camille’s university, in a major metropolitan area, is one of Canada’s top
universities. She had two careers prior to her career in academia but the thread
that has woven throughout all her jobs is a relationship to community. Her
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research is primarily concerned with women on low incomes, and immigrant
and refugee settlement. Camille’s teaching also relates to community, using
community-based experiential learning with student placements taking place
locally, nationally, and internationally. In addition to her teaching and
research, she also sits on various university committees concerned with
community engagement activities, including how engagement relates to tenure
and promotion.
Dale (66 years old), Senior Lecturer, English, Australia.
Dale has worked in private industry (publishing) as well as metropolitan and
regional universities. His current position is at a historically teaching-focussed
regional university that has adopted a research agenda over the past two
decades. Throughout his career, Dale’s community engagement work in media
(appearances in TV and radio), engagement work with a local refugee
community, organising activities such as public readings, and research
activities in Asia.
Emily (34 years old), Senior Lecturer, Information Science, Australia.
Emily’s university is based in a metropolitan area, with satellite campuses in
regional cities across the state. Her primary community-based activities are
related to Australian Aboriginal groups. The work includes conducting
community-engaged research, providing workshops, and other activities to
build and maintain relationships with those communities.
Gayle (49 years old), Associate Professor, Planning, Canada.
Gayle’s university is ranked among the top five universities in Canada. She has a
secondment to a faculty which has a mission to engage with communities and
the public and her academic work is an extension of that mission. Community
engagement is woven into her teaching and research, which focuses on
community participation in planning and improving health conditions,
including building capacity through civic engagement to improve quality of
health in rural areas.
Gloria (51 years old), Professor, Media and Communications, Australia.
Gloria’s large, research-intensive university is based in a major metropolitan
centre but has several satellite campuses throughout the state. The university
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has a mission to serve the needs of the various communities in which it is
situated, and Gloria’s work reflects that mission. Gloria’s community
engagement work includes a number of research projects, crowdfunding
research (and associated projects), and public scholarship (through various
media).
Irvin (49 years old), Professor, Philosophy, Australia.
Irvin is at a research-intensive university in a major metropolitan area. He
shares his time between Australia and the UK where he has a co-appointment.
His community engagement activities are primarily related to public
communication of philosophy through public talks, public-facing publications,
and media exposure.
Jake (52 years old), Professor, Physical Education, Canada.
Jake is at a top-10 Canadian research university. His research is in the areas of
sport and performance psychology and his community engagement activities
consist primarily of conducting community-based workshops on wellness. He
has also conducted research in various communities and has graduate students
who are using community-engaged frameworks in their research.
Joy (33 years old), Lecturer, Media and Communications, Australia.
Joy is an ECR with a focus on qualitative new media studies at a high-ranking
research-intensive university in a metropolitan area. Her research is various
types of artists, including dancers, painters, and photographers. She engages
with various communities on topics related to the arts and brings them
together for research-related activities. Her other work is related to
presentation of self in social media— how academics situate themselves in
public spaces. She is a firm believer in making research accessible through open
access publishing.
Kelli (34 years old), Assistant Professor, Political Studies, Canada.
Kelli is an ECR at a large research university in a metropolitan area. Her focus
in on American politics, Middle Eastern politics, and comparative and
migration politics. Her work with community runs throughout her academic
life, including service work and teaching, but most of her community-engaged
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activities are focused on her research, which is primarily concerned with
women in the Middle East.
Kristine (42 years old), Associate Professor, Education, Canada.
Kristine’s institution has a lengthy history of promoting social justice and
activism, and her department continues that tradition. Because of the
institution’s history and mission, there is a close association with community
and a drive to have engagement represented in academics’ work. For Kristine,
this includes educational outreach to communities in rural locations, research
on various outreach activities (in science but from a qualitative perspective),
and research in schools (particularly with parents).
Leon (52 years old), Associate Professor, Information Science, Canada.
Leon’s research-intensive university is located close to a major metropolitan
area. Leon engages with the community through media profiles and in research
on digital story-telling. Additionally, he is a member of a community
engagement community-of-practice group at his university.
Lillian (47 years old), Lecturer, Media and Communications, Australia.
Lillian is at a university in a metropolitan area with satellite regional campuses.
As she started her career in academia later in life, her academic engagement
work is an extension of the professional work she did prior to moving to the
university and is firmly grounded in community. Her research is related to
alternative media and voices in the margins, particularly incarcerated women.
Lydia (38 years old), Associate Professor, Education, Canada.
In recent years, Lydia’s university transitioned from being a teaching-focused
college to a university and adopted a research agenda. Lydia’s community
engagement work extends to her teaching and research activities. She has
conducted several field studies overseas, which in turn have generated
relationships that have opened the door to research possibilities in community.
Lydia has positioned herself as a historian but now draws on a variety of
disciplinary knowledges to conduct her engagement activities.
Meredith (52 years old), Professor, Business/Economics, Canada.
Meredith is at a large metropolitan university. The institution did not
historically have a research focus but has grown to be a research-intensive
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university in the last few decades. Meredith’s academic work is centred
primarily on communications policy. Her community engagement work
includes advocacy to improve broadband access to Canadians.
Nathaniel (34 years old), Assistant Professor, English, Canada.
Nathaniel works at a mid-sized research university. As an ECR, many of his
community-engaged activities stemmed from his PhD, particularly with queer
youth. His engagement is mostly related to his teaching as well as cultivating a
public persona through social media.
Sarah (52 years old), Senior Lecturer, Education, Australia.
Sarah works at an urban campus of a university that is spread across several
campuses and cities. Her engagement activities are mostly related to her
research on early childhood and families. She conducts applied research with
the overarching goal of influencing policy to have a positive effect on society.
Traci (39 years old), Senior Lecturer, Sociology, Australia.
Traci works at a large urban research university and considers herself to be an
interdisciplinary researcher. Her community engagement activities are mostly
related to her research in the areas of child support and child-care policies. She
has won several large grants and, and her research and recommendations have
been adopted in policy.
Wilbur (59 years old), Associate Professor, Screen and Media, Australia.
Wilbur’s university is a smaller university in a mid-sized metropolitan centre
(~1 million people). Wilbur’s main community-engaged interactions and
activities are through a local film festival, where he curates the program, writes
program notes, and gives public talks about film.
Key Informant Participants
Cristina (27 years old), is a non-academic staff member in the
technology transfer unit of a top-tier university in Australia. Some of her
responsibilities related to supporting community-engaged academics include
organising workshops (e.g., intellectual property right, building partnerships,
commercialisation), and facilitating industry and community connections. The
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portfolio of the unit extends to all disciplines, including HSS, but the majority
of her academic clients are in science, medicine, and engineering.
Floyd (48 years old) is the manager of a unit in Canada that specialises
in facilitating knowledge mobilisation and knowledge transfer between his
university and the public/private sectors. His background is in adult education.
The university has a long history of community involvement and the unit is an
extension of that mission. Floyd sees his role as being an intermediary between
communities (members or groups) and researchers (individuals or research
teams). This includes a variety of activities touching on all aspects of the
research process, from before the project starts, designing the project,
conducting the research, and mobilising the findings for application in
communities. In addition to conducting workshops, Floyd is a member of
various community engagement committees and organisations.
Jane (undisclosed age) is the dean of a community education faculty at a
large research-intensive university in Canada that has adopted engagement,
and the scholarship of engagement, as a specific focus. Jane advocates for
community engagement activities both in her own faculty and at the university
level. Additionally, she is connected to various networks of engaged academics
and units doing similar work across the country.
Lillie (45 years old) directs research training at her high-ranking
research university in Australia. Her responsibilities include organising
research training for academics and HDR students, including that which
focuses on community engagement through public dissemination of research.
Because of her unit’s position in the university structure, central rather than
embedded in a faculty, she is knowledgeable about the university’s community-
engagement activities and support, and how the university is preparing for
social impact assessments. Lillie also has an academic appointment and, as
such, is expected to maintain her research, teaching, and service activities. For
the purposes of this study, she served as a key informant as the interview
focused her unit and her work in it, rather than her academic role.
Markus (24 years old) manages a digital training unit and collaborative
space at a large research-intensive university in Australia. His responsibilities
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include fostering a community of engaged researchers, organising workshops
(particularly around data visualisation techniques and technologies), and
managing several events throughout the year. The unit operates centrally and is
available to all academic staff and research students. While the services are
available to HSS scholars, most of the academics he supports are in non-HSS
disciplines.
Wilson (52 years old) is a senior administrator at a rural research
university. Due to its location and charter, the university has a long tradition of
community engagement. He is responsible for delivering on his institution’s
promise of engagement and is familiar with a variety of initiatives and supports
to this end.