Student Sex Workers, Disclosure and Stigma

Last Friday I attended an event to announce the results of the Student Sex Worker Project. The full details can be found on their web site but the headlines were interesting. Most surprisingly the number of men involved in all kind of sex work, and in each of the different categories, is higher than that of women. This challenges the assumption that sex work is essentially a 'women's issue'. We were also told that the range of sex work that students are involved in is extremely wide, with a majority involved in indirect sex work (naked butlers, stripping, dancing and web based work), but a sizeable minority involved in the direct form. Finally, while it was clear that many of those involved were motivated by financial concerns this was by no means the only motivation and many also said that they entered the profession for sexual pleasure. The real impact of the morning I attended, however, came not from the results in themselves but from a film that had been made based on the video diary of a female student sex worker. What came out of this film was the isolation that was generated by the work, the lack of support for the young woman involved, and the very strong sense of stigma that was felt, and imposed, on the woman because of the work she did.


The Student Sex Work Project is very keen not only to provide information, but also to provide support and counselling to those involved in the project and to engage Universities in exploring the kind of support that might be available. What comes through so strongly, however, is the way in which the stigma associated with sex work determines the response and so often defines the lives of those involved. From Universities who are reluctant to be seen to engaged in student support in this area because of potential reputational damage to individual sex workers who fail to seek the most basic social and health care support because they are ashamed to admit that they are involved in the profession. There is a very clear relationship throughout the whole of this debate between 'stigma', the way society constructs the stereotype of sex work, and their responses to it, and the level of disclosure among sex workers. The call was for more support, a challenging of the stigma, and to hope that more young people, who choose this work for many different reasons, would come forward and seek the support they need.


This question of stigma and disclosure has been one that has bedevilled the work we have been trying to do around equality and diversity. It has been particularly problematic in the areas of LGBT and disability, although for very different reasons.


I had a number of conversations last week about handing on the work that has been undertaken around LGBT issues within the University (work that by any standards can be considered extremely positive and valuable). With my new role, and the moving on of another senior manager, there is no longer a clear and obvious 'role model' for LGBT activity among the senior management team. The University can cope with this, I am sure, and the work here is strong enough to continue without our involvement. What I found interesting about the conversations around this issue, however, was that we realised just how few employees at the University (academics and professional services) feel the need to disclose their LGBT status. In the case of bisexuality and trans issues this does still relate to questions of stigma, I think that is clear, but in the case of lesbian and gay disclosure it is probably as much to do with 'normalisation' (the total lack of concern about a person's sexuality) as it is to continued stigma. Does the move towards normalisation mean that we no longer need LGBT role models among senior management? I doubt it some how. But as normalisation grows, then active disclosure declines and that is an interesting observation.


The other area where disclosure is a continued concern is around disability, and particularly mental health. Here the overlaps with the student sex workers are very clear. The stigma that is still felt, and imposed on, those with mental health problems, along with the expectation that this will be held against individual employees by managers, leads to a significant under-disclosure. At one level, in order to emphasise the level of the problem (and perhaps to increase normalisation) then we need more people to disclose, but that will not happen until people feel confident that they will not be in any way (formally or informally) discriminated against should they disclose. It is a difficult decision for anybody to make, but support cannot be forthcoming until at least some level of disclosure is made. The tragic consequences of this can probably be seen in the situation around the German Wings plane crash in Switzerland that so dominated the news last week.


There is much to do in order to 'normalise' so many factors that provide the potential for stigma in society and within Universities. Each issue has its own particularities, but I am also struck by the commonalities. As I am also changing jobs I know that, probably for the first time in many years, it is a live issue for me as I choose when, and whether, to disclose my sexuality or my dyslexia in a range of different conversations over the next few months. Interestingly it is the second of these that I feel more nervous about disclosing within the University management role that I am now moving in to, and that is perhaps more interesting in relation to this wider discussion of disclosure and stigma.

How Would I Exhibit African Art?

I am currently reading 'Exhibition-ism', the catalogue of an exhibition held in 1994 at the Museum of African Art in New York. This was one of a series of controversial and innovative exhibitions that were held at the Museum at that time, including ART/Artefact and Secrecy: Objects that Conceal and Reveal. Each of these exhibitions, and others at the same kind of time in other museums, focussed more on conceptual ideas and the repositioning of African art rather than on the objects themselves. This was also apparent in some of the academic literature of the time that was questioning the value and/or nature of African art more generally. The Exhibition-ism instillation looked specifically at the role of the Museum itself and aimed to question the visitors about the museum context, allowing them to see behind the scenes as well as at the objects being displayed. The catalogue suggests that the instillation came about because all those involved sat down and began to ask themselves how they would like to see African art displayed.


In some ways the presentation of African art has moved on since the early 1990s, although there have been a number of good exhibitions that I have seen in the last few years that are still engaging with controversial and provocative ideas (focussing mainly, if my memory serves me well, on questions of commercialism, forgery and the trade in art at different points in its life). There has, however, also been a reversion toward the presentation of objects in isolation, allowing them to 'speak for themselves' and, in a recent Swiss exhibition, a move back towards the idea of 'masterpieces' and the question of the artist in relation to African art. Perhaps none of these alternative modes of presentation ever really went away. The contemporary trend that I tend to find most exciting, however, is that of interspersing traditional African items with other objects, whether contemporary African art, or art from other traditions; allowing the objects to speak to each other across space and, perhaps, across time does something that I, personally, find stimulating.


The problem, of course, is that so much of what is appreciated, or not, comes down to personal taste (although I am very aware that there are specialists who can tell us what the majority of visitors might want for the majority of the time). For me it is the object that matters. I have no real interest in text, and very rarely read text when it is presented within a museum instillation. Using other objects or images to provide context, and occasionally a well chosen video, does work and does attract my attention, but if I think of which exhibitions (both in museums and in commercial galleries, at Parcours for example) really grab me, then it is those that consist of individual objects, well mounted, well lit and positioned within a space that allows them to talk to each other. The overall design of the gallery or other space is as important as the presentation of the specific objects themselves. That, however, is a personal preference.


If, on the other hand, I were to ask myself how I would display, for example, some of our own Dogon objects, then, interestingly, I would immediately tend towards context and perhaps even an excessive use of text. If I am showing my own pieces, or any other collection, then I would want to inform people, to help them understand. If I am visiting another exhibition then I simply want to be hit by the power of the objects themselves. I cannot square that circle, it is probably the basic dilemma of many museum curators the world over: information or power, context or isolation?


I have often reflected on the possibility of exhibiting our own pieces in relation to the work I am currently writing on the Dogon. I would want to take each piece and set it within a context (of other objects, of photos, perhaps with videos, but also text) that draws out a specific element of the complexity of the whole area. So one object would be displayed to highlight the question of authorship and the construction of the object. Another would emphasise movement, multiple uses, transfer to the West and so on. Another would highlight something of the history, the role of the caves, asking about the Tellem and perhaps the inferences of Carbon 14 dating. Each, within its own display would be designed to ask a different question, some more mundane, others perhaps more challenging (how did the objects reach the West, who should be owning them, how do we define authenticity?). At the core of the exhibition would be the black monkey mask (that is my personal photo-image for Facebook and Google) and perhaps a touchtable that allowed individuals to interrogate all the issues further should they so wish.


The problem, of course, is that such an exhibition would have to be really good, really well thought out, all the images carefully chosen and so on, if I, personally, would actually want to spend time searching through all the many different layers. It is possible... I am sure it is...

Is Pride in our University a Sin?

This might seem a rather strange question. The series of Lent talks at our local church this year has been on the seven deadly sins, and 'pride' was the latest in this list of talks. Also last Thursday we had the Annual General Meeting for the University of Birmingham. As ever, this was excellently done, a chance to showcase the very best of the University to the senior leadership and to about 150 ‘friends’ from across the city and beyond. The event was held in Elgar Concert Hall and was compared by our Chancellor, Lord Bilimoria, with an excellent mixture of formal speaking, informal anecdote and obvious pride in both the University and the city. The theme of the whole evening was built on the relationship between the University and the city and the very best that Birmingham (in both senses) has to offer was presented to the gathered audience. It was a truly uplifting evening.

 

So why should such pride be a ‘sin’? On Saturday I travelled down to Swansea to look at possible accommodation as I contemplate starting a new role at a new institution. Does Swansea do these public events with the same panache and style as Birmingham? I have yet to find out. As we drove down we noted that Wales were playing Scotland in the Six Nations at the Millennium Stadium and David, my partner, commented that changing Universities must be a bit like being a footballer suddenly changing teams. While you have been totally committed to Stoke City, for example, for twenty years, and have been telling everybody that this is the best team ever, now you are off to play for Swansea United and suddenly it is Swansea that has the ultimate in footballing prowess. And here is me, travelling from England to Wales, to play, if not for the opposition, or at least for a very different team.

 

One of my colleagues at Birmingham, who has more experience of switching Universities than me, described this situation as a kind of serial monogamy, a total commitment to each institution for the time that you are working for them. I have no particular problem or issue with that and will, obviously, commit myself one hundred percent to Swansea as of May 1^st (while still maintaining a real affection and pride in Birmingham where I have spent the last twenty two years.) That is not really the point that struck me particularly as I sat in the Elgar Concert Hall looking at an amazing 3D film of all the new building works that are being developed around the University of Birmingham campus. That is not why I might call pride in the University a ‘sin’.

 

It was not the knowledge that I was about to jump ship that gave me a feeling of hypocrisy last Thursday. It was more the memory of so many colleagues over the years at Birmingham who would have been sceptical, at the very least, by such a show, and probably down right cynical. It is alright telling us about all the things that are going well, they would have said, but what about all those areas that have suffered ‘restructuring’ when things have gone wrong? What, they would have asked, about the increased workload across the staff base that has made all these wonderful achievements possible? Are the people whose work has created this achievement really getting the credit they deserve? It is true that many of these people, the lecturers, support staff, administrators, cleaners and others, were not in the room that evening.

 

Having said this, I have always been somewhat surprised by those colleagues who do express pride in the University, along side, it must be said, a healthy dose of scepticism and mumbling about all the many problems. I was talking on Wednesday evening to a colleague from another local University and he was complaining about the building work at his institution, hoping that it would not have a negative on the student experience. Interestingly the general feedback from the Birmingham campus, where there is considerable disruption due to the new building work, is a real sense of pride among the students about the investment that the University is making for future generations. I was also surprised, looking at Facebook a couple of years ago, just who did post a comment expressing pride in Birmingham’s achievement of University of the Year. It was not always the people I was expecting.

 

The reference to awards takes me to my last point. On Tuesday I chaired the Athena SWAN working group and later I attended a session for the LGBT mentoring scheme (the only one of its kind in the country!). At both these events I commented on the string of Stonewall awards the University has won this year as a consequence of rising over 150 places in the Stonewall Employers index to establish a place in the top 100. Of course this does reflect some significantly positive work that Birmingham has done around LGBT support and action, both with students and with staff. I am also very conscious, however, that it also has to do with the fact that we decided this year to pull all this work together and to put considerable energy into making the best application that we could. The application was not all spin by any stretch of the imagination, but it did paint some rather mediocre activities in the best possible light, and it did achieve its purpose. The opportunity to say Birmingham University has entered the top 100, that the Rainbow Staff Network has been highly commended, and that we are officially the most improved institution in the Midlands is all very satisfying, and does actually go along way to making that positive spin on the application form a reality going forward.

 

So is pride in the University a sin? Of course not, so long as there is some real achievement underneath the words and so long as we continue to retain a healthy dose of scepticism among all the awards. I now look forward to having the same pride in Swansea over the next few years that I clearly have, and will always have, for Birmingham.

Gender Equality: Measuring Success

Yesterday I attended a summit on Delivering Equality: Women and Success at Murray Edwards College in Cambridge. It was designed for leaders in Higher Education and was very well organised with some important speakers and a number of interesting things to say. The emphasis was on 'honesty', recognising just where we are in terms of gender equality in higher education, on making pledges towards practical steps that would lead to change within the sector, and on learning from other sectors. An important event, even if it was somewhat Cambridge focussed.


One of the things that I cam away with was around the idea of 'success'. The subtitle of the summit had two kinds of focus within the discussions during the day. The first was to ask how we might measure success within the terms of the agenda itself. How, for example, we would be able to increase the number of women in senior management and professorial positions above the 17-20% that appears to be the current norm within the sector. There was considerable discussion of this and a range of ideas put forward, none of which were exactly new in themselves. The answer here really lies in a common commitment and a concerted effort, paying constant attention to the metrics, and doing everything that we can to push the agenda forward. Dogged determination and not taking our eyes of the ball are the essential features of achieving this kind of success.


The other referent to the idea of success was, however, much more interesting. This was to ask what success in higher education might look like, when considered from the perspective of the individual career. Part of the wider issue of gender equality is the persistence of a model of academic success that is built on individual research (or occasionally team leadership), grant capture, publications, conference invitations and global recognition. This is not a specifically male approach to success, many women do achieve this, but it is something that the system makes much easier for men than it does for women. The question, of course, is whether we should be changing the system in order to make it easier for women to achieve this kind of success, levelling the playing field as it were, or whether we should, in fact, be redefining, or at the very least widening, what it means to achieve academic success in a way that opens up other possibilities?


The general view is that 'ideally' we need to talk about academic success in wider terms, to include excellence in teaching for example, an element of good citizenship, a recognition of the nurturing roles of mentoring, student support and so on. In this way some of those elements that have been traditionally seen as 'women's' roles within the departments would be recognized and play a more significant role within decisions around promotions etc. As ever, I have no problems with this, the whole of an individual's contribution needs to be taken into account and different individuals have different strengths, each of which should be cultivated and rewarded. To see this as a way of balancing the position of women specifically, however, may not actually achieve the desired results. There will always be a sense of the star researcher as the 'real success' and teachers, managers, mentors and the others as 'very good' but still somewhat second class. I can see what such strategies are trying to achieve, and I do accept and want to endorse, a far wider range of potential measures of success within the academy, but not just to allow in those who are otherwise excluded from being the star researchers.


The other way of looking at this came from another thread in the summit, that I am increasingly hearing being stated as fact. This is the idea that diversity in itself is a positive good and has a beneficial impact on the institution, including on the bottom line. As one speaker says, it goes without saying that there is a significant business case for diversity. This is stressed particularly at the level of the boardroom in industry and commerce, where it is increasingly being recognised that a range of skills and personalities (genders, ethnicities and sexualities) brings a breadth of experience and approach that is much more creative than the old monochrome boards of old boys. The evidence is clearly there to support such a view, but I am not entirely convinced that the message has really got across and even at the seminar there was a sense that such a message needed to be asserted in the strongest possible terms to make it stick. However, I am convinced that a positive bias towards diversity at all levels, and a recognition of the value of diversity within research teams, within teaching groups, within departments and schools, in professional services, and on University executive boards, is absolutely necessary and the best way of ensuring that a full range of individuals are recognised and rewarded, whether financially or through preferment, irrespective of gender, ethnicity, sexuality or any other characteristic.

Third Time Lucky

It has now been some months since I made great promises to go off to Morocco and think about a Sacred Sociology. As it happens, I did that. On a number of bus and train journeys across Southern Spain and down through Morocco to the foothills of the Atlas Mountains, I thought about what a Sacred Sociology for the twenty first century might look like. At some point I may even come back to it and write out some of my thoughts.


The issue was not the holiday, it was coming back, hitting the new term and never quite getting around to putting something down on the blog again. Time passed and it was already Christmas, the New Year, the new term and my life just seemed to be getting ever more busy. Then, last week, it was announced that I am to begin a new job in two months time, on the 1st May, as Pro-Vice Chancellor at the University of Swansea. That will no doubt be even busier than the current role, but it has given me an excuse to get back to the blog and, at least mentally, to make a commitment to keep it going through the transition and hopefully on into the new role itself.


One of the things that this does mean is that I can in fact begin to refocus the blog much more clearly on the four distinct strands that I began with (over two years ago?) which now make even more sense within the new role. It is the relationship between the strands of my quartet, and my own ability to see links and juxtapositions between them, that is going to make the new role particularly intellectually exciting for me.


First: there will be a commentary on the Higher Education scene more generally (perhaps seen from a distinctively Welsh perspective in the new role) but always, from my own point of view, with an eye on the international context. Much of what I do will be reflecting on policy, strategy and practice and as that is the day job the chance to comment more speculatively within the blog will be helpful. This will not, however, be a blow by blow commentary on the role of the PVC.


Second: what I called the 'post-post-modernism'. My role at Swansea will cover a number of different areas but at its core is an oversight of the research agenda for Arts, Humanities and the Social Sciences. I have always been keen to develop a much more integrated, interdisciplinary approach within these fields and the role at Swansea, engaging with some really top quality researchers across these disciplines, will, in part, give me an opportunity to explore this further. Whether the focus will be on complexity, post-post-modernism, or even the Sacred Sociology, this will be where, intellectually and practically, much of my thought will focus.


Third: the new role is not intended to be a research post, but I will, of course, continue to research and at the core of that will be the continuing development of my general theory of religion. This term I am really enjoying myself giving a series of lectures to our first year here in Birmingham on Myth. A colleague described the study of myth to me as the history of ideas over the last hundred and fifty years. The next book I write, after the Dogon text, will be on myth (volume four of the general theory) and much of what I read will be in this area so no doubt I will have some very interesting comments to make on this in passing.


Fourth: meanwhile I still have the Dogon book to complete and I am on target to complete the main draft by the end of the summer. I am really enjoying doing the research on that, reading in so many different fields that I had not even known to exist, discovering patterns and connections and that often just leave me speechless, and even enjoying wading through great early twentieth century tomes in French. It has been great fun and a real eye opener. Even when the book is completed, however, I will not be able to leave the Dogon alone, they are one of my real passions. And so, they will be the fourth string to my bow (as it were).


My aim is once a week, so let's see how I get on this time...

Towards a New 'Sacred Sociology'

I am currently working on the chapter of my most recent book on the reception of the Dogon in the West that deals with the discourse within the anthropological tradition and provides a critique of the anthropology of the Dogon with reference to anthropological theory. As part of this I have been looking at the intellectual roots of Marcell Griaule and others involved in the research on the Dogon. This is focused on the intellectual scene in Paris in the late 1920s through to the end of 1930s. In exploring more about this period I came across Michele Richman’s work ‘Sacred Revolutions’. In this book Richman outlines the thinking that came together in the short lived College de Sociologie towards the end of the 1930s. The key players in the College were Georges Bataille, Roger Callois and Michel Leiris (who was part of the first Griaule Mission to the Dogon).

In talking about the College, Richman says: ‘Sociology thus became an essential resource for the College’s investigation of the interface between the social and the political as a key to understanding the nature of collective movements’ (2002, 113) and a little later: ‘With its claim that death is the underlying catalyst for movements of attraction as well as repulsion, and that the need to mediate encounters with it prompts the consecration of sacred places, persons or things, the College united under the banner of a sacred sociology’ (2002, 114, italics in original). There is, of course, much more to Richman’s complex and sophisticated analysis of this movement, but there are a number of things that really appeal to me even in those two passages and that makes me want to explore this whole movement further.

In the first passage the concern is with the ‘interface between the social and the political’. That is essential in today’s world and something that I personally find difficult to grasp. It is this interface, Richman suggests, that is ‘a key to understanding the nature of collective movements’. For those collective movements that really concern us today (radical Islam and the like) this is undoubtedly true and while considerable work has been done on collective movements, and the interface between the social and the political, since the 1930s much of this has veered away from any direct concern with religion. The second passage talks about death as the ‘underlying catalyst’ and the need to mediate encounters with it through a greater understanding of sacred places, persons and things. In the 1930s the College had difficulty in engaging with the rise of Nazism and their solution, in part, was to see this as a ‘sacred’ movement, or at least a movement that had elements of the sacred within it. The contemporary movements can be seen very clearly as ‘religious’, and we may or may not want to use the word ‘sacred’ to describe them. Far less has been said about the centrality of the encounter with death (in all its forms, not just suicide bombings) that sits at the heart of such movements and, I would suggest, must sit at the heart of any analysis of the movements or any attempts to counter them. It is this, Richman suggests, that led the members of the College to ‘unite under a banner of a sacred sociology’. Does this imply, therefore, that we might now need a new ‘sacred sociology’ to counter the contemporary collective movements? I think that it probably does.

I am just about to go off on another holiday, another tour with long hours of bus and train travel, this time in Southern Spain and Morocco. I want to use that time, in part, to reflect on what such a ‘sacred sociology’ might look at (not as a parody of the theory of religion as with ‘metaphorics’) but as a way of engaging with the real issues that we face as sociologists and theorists of religion in the contemporary world. I am clear that Richman, and the College, is not talking about a sociology of the sacred here, far less a sociology of religion. I am also clear that they are not talking about a religious sociology (as in Catholic or Islamic sociology) that is not in any sense what I am talking about, although there may be something to learn from these sources. The emphasis on the word ‘sacred’ with its roots in Durkheimian sociology and its connection with ‘death’, the ‘collective’ and, later in Richman’s analysis with the ‘erotic’ is where I think we need to begin. Obviously to really begin to construct (or is it to ‘reconstruct’) a new sacred sociology is going to demand much more reading, research, debate and discussion. It cannot be put together, like a spoof theory, on a bus travelling through the mountains of Morocco. I can, however, begin to think through the parameters, the limits and the possible shape of such a sacred sociology. That, I really believe, has to be my next task.

I will come back and report on how I have done (and also attempt to bring together the various posts from the last few weeks) on my return…

Being an Entrepreneurial Academic

In a newsfeed on Higher Education issues from the States there was a recent series of blogs on academic entrepreneurship. It offered advice over four weeks with suggested exercises in order to help readers get their own particular ‘business’ off the ground. The section that particularly struck me was on the differences between the academic and the entrepreneurial mindset. I am not sure there was anything new here, but it was the way in which it was laid out, so simply and so clearly, and the way the comparison was made with the ‘academic mindset’ that particularly struck me. The author identified five elements to the entrepreneurial mindset:

• Academics move slow. Entrepreneurs move fast.
• Academics study problems. Entrepreneurs solve problems.
• Academics function in constraint. Entrepreneurs create possibility.
• Academics focus on patterns. Entrepreneurs focus on the exceptions.
• Academics loathe promotion. Entrepreneurs live to sell.

There is probably some element of stereotyping going on here and the text does recognise a little more subtlety than is suggested by the titles, but the basic principles should be clear enough. It was the text under the first of these headings that really made me think:

‘As an academic my approach to change was to move slowly, deliberately and cautiously. I believed that the best way to minimize mistakes was through extensive conversation, committee meetings, producing volumes of written material, etc. In other words, the best way to make a decision was by slowly moving through a process that involved lots of talking, thinking and analyzing before doing anything. As an entrepreneur I act first and analyze later. Quick movement is essential because my goal is to get into action and fail as fast as possible. Every time I fail, I can evaluate what worked (and didn’t work), make quick adjustments, and get back into action. Failing gives me lots of data that I can use to adapt as I’m moving forward.’

That willingness to fail, and the learning from failure as part of the process of development, was something that others had also commented on in relation to entrepreneurship and something that I am more than aware that we discourage within the academic world.

 

As part of my role of Deputy Pro-vice Chancellor (Staffing) I have aimed to apply something of this logic to the process of culture change within the University. It is usually said that culture change takes time, and to fully embed any particular change that is undoubtedly true. With only three to four years to make any kind of impact, however, I have had to think in much shorter time scales. My line manager commented in the annual review earlier in the summer that I seemed to have a knack for start and finish projects. I would prefer to say that I am applying entrepreneurial methods: establishing agendas, making changes, achieving results and moving on.

There are three or four areas where this has been particularly successful (although the exact methods have changed in each case, and that goes back to the idea of learning on the go). With employability I was asked to chair a review. I identified the issues (the lack of embeddedness) constructed a strategy and, with colleagues in the Careers Network costed out what was possible. We took this to senior management, got the go ahead to make the changes (although on a lower budgets than originally requested) and created a model for employability that has by any standards been successful, lifting Birmingham close to the top of the league tables. What is more the model has been taken and applied in different ways in a number of different UK universities, becoming known as the ‘Birmingham Model’, a clear sign of recognition and success. I followed this up with the establishment of an in-house student employment agency (Worklink) despite being told that we could never deliver on this internally, given the University's track record on such projects, and would be better off buying an existing model off the shelf. I made the case for doing it ourselves and the result has been groundbreaking and succesful.

Switching areas slightly, I was asked to act as academic lead on a Higher Education Academy sponsored project on Valuing Teaching at Birmingham (VT@B). This aimed to identify how academic staff perceived teaching across the institution and to make recommendation to improve the outlook and value of teaching as a part of the wider academic process. The issue here was perhaps more of perception than reality but there were clear things that could be done and I made it my task to get these on the agenda of senior management and delivered. We now support the academic promotions process with workshops and training for Heads of School, placing teaching alongside research as well as addressing other equality and diversity issues. We have also established a Birmingham Teaching Academy and advertised for international Birmingham Teaching Fellows to encourage and promote excellence and innovation in teaching. The landscape has changed and teaching is now talked about alongside research as one of the strengths of the University. More importantly, however, the fact that the project existed, was very well publicised and that I spoke to the senior team about it constantly meant that the valuing of teaching became part of the conscious messaging of the institution even before the project reported and that, in itself, has made a significant difference to perceptions.

I could point to similar action around academic performance and on issues of equality and diversity, perhaps with less obvious or visible success at present, but in each case I set out with a clear objective, a sense of urgency in terms of implementation and what I would generally think of as an entrepreneurial mind set (as defined in the points set out above). I think I have surprised myself, at least looking back on the last three years, on how successful some of this has been. What I probably need to do now, however, is to see whether the same principles can be applied to research as well as to the management of the institution. Whether I can make the entrepreneurial mindset work for me individually as well as for the University as a whole.