Muldavin’s tenure denial result of flawed system

  Michael Weiner Weiner is a fourth-year
history and political science student. His column analyzing issues
of interest to the UCLA community runs on Mondays. E-mail him at
[email protected].

Sometimes it takes a small, relatively insignificant subject to
shed light on a much larger, much more important problem. Such is
the case with the budding protest movement over the
university’s decision to deny tenure to geography Professor
Joshua Muldavin.

Muldavin is an extremely popular instructor whose pedagogical
skills are second to none on a campus where the effective teaching
of undergraduates often seems like little more than an afterthought
to an administration preoccupied with “weightier”
matters.

Whether or not the protesters are successful in their attempt to
win a reversal on the Muldavin decision, they deserve credit for
demonstrating the misplaced priorities of this university and the
double-talk many administrators employ when talking about
UCLA’s three-pronged mission of research, teaching and public
service.

Although officials have declined to comment on Muldavin’s
specific case, it is clear that the decision to deny him tenure is
based not on his teaching, but on his research. Muldavin has won
numerous distinguished teaching awards and his near-unanimous
celebration as an instructor by both students and faculty members
is well-documented.

Therefore, Muldavin’s case provides a perfect illustration
of the shortcomings of a tenure process that Chancellor Albert
Carnesale himself has called “too opaque.” And in turn,
the tenure process encapsulates the misplaced priorities of this
university.

Administrative rhetoric notwithstanding, UCLA does not have a
three-pronged mission in practice. It is more accurate to
characterize UCLA’s actual priorities as hierarchical, with
research leading the way, and education and public service residing
in subordinate positions.

This is evident in any cursory examination of 1999-2000
University of California budget, in which expenditures for the
categories of “research” and “medical
centers” outpace those for “instruction” and
“student financial aid” by 45 percent.

Still, UCLA is a research university. That is where it gets its
prestige and that is a significant aspect of its charge from the
citizens of this state. The question on the Muldavin example
““ and by extension, on every other tenure case ““ is:
Was Muldavin denied tenure because his research was weak and
unscholarly or because it was unconventional and inconsistent with
the preconceptions of more senior faculty members?

Unfortunately, members of the UCLA community will never be able
to evaluate that question for themselves. Here again, opening up
the tenure process to greater public scrutiny might prevent the
bitterness felt by the student protesters from recurring in the
future.

The problem of misplaced priorities runs through nearly every
artery of this campus, as any undergraduate can attest. But the
tenure process deserves special attention because it cuts to the
heart of the matter. Students come to UCLA to learn. No matter how
learned professors may be, no matter how great their reputations in
scholarly circles, that is all meaningless to students if they are
unable to express their knowledge in a compelling fashion.

The Muldavin example demonstrates with stark clarity the fact
that the tenure process does not merely need internal policy
revisions that would allow for greater weight to be given to the
given professor’s teaching skills. Although such reforms are
necessary, the process would still remain provincial and
undemocratic, restricted to the narrow confines of UCLA’s
internal ivory tower.

What is really needed is a system in which the tenure process is
opened up and allowed to see the light of day, in which all of
UCLA’s stakeholders ““ not least among them, students
““ are given an open window so that they can evaluate for
themselves how well their interests are represented. With some
effort, this could be done legally, within the dictates of the
privacy statutes that govern the handling of personnel matters in
public institutions.

Sadly, there is little evidence for optimism that UCLA is
willing to change the tenure process in a significant way.
Carnesale says he is open to suggestions, but other statements he
has made in recent days suggest a warped understanding of the role
students play on this campus. During last week’s hunger
strike, Carnesale compared students to “donors, legislators
(and) regents” in saying that he would not bow to political
pressure on tenure decisions.

To identify students with wealthy elites, to think that they
hold any less of a stake in this university than the faculty
members who currently hold a monopoly on the tenure process is to
demonstrate a fundamental disregard for the group of people who are
central to an activity that is supposedly an essential aspect of
UCLA’s mission: teaching.