Composing a University: Positive and Negative Space

Years ago while working at the University of Bath I saw a flyer for drawing lessons. I'd been meaning to take a course for a while but always put it off, nevertheless spending a lot of money on drawing kit in the belief one day I would start. I looked at the flyer and thought "now is not the right time" but then stopped and realised that's what I always said, so I took the flyer, signed up, did three semesters and never looked back. Drawing was a world that you could lose yourself in and while frustrating, was also immensely rewarding. My brilliant teacher, Will, was very good at reminding us to draw what we saw, rather than how we imagined things to be, to not be afraid of using the eraser for corrections, and most importantly to value the interplay between negative and positive space.

Over the years I've followed all of that advice and even applied it to my photography and in a way, my listening experiences (for another post). A recent Times Higher article https://www.timeshighereducation.com/news/work-professional-services-staff-invisible-universities covering a new book by experienced professional services manager Rachel Reeds got me thinking about negative space again. I haven't read the book and the link in the article doesn't work, but from the conversation on a LI post by Phil Baty at THE it would appear to be a very useful guide for up and coming professional services staff to navigate their way through academia and be successful. Sound advice in times like these when redundancies are the norm and many of us, me included, are looking at the immense recent growth in professional services (PS) and wondering whether cutting would be reasonable.

The article mentions that most of the work done by PS is invisible. When I first saw this I thought it was a rather predictable claim that such work is under appreciated (and that is partly the case), but Reeds' more critical point is that when PS works well, they are invisible, which of course is great for academics but potentially bad for PS, since we start taking things for granted. (In drawing terms, too much negative space (unless handled very skilfully) requires a lot of work and suspension of disbelief from the viewer).

While I love the idea, a bit of reflection on my own experience over the last 30 years has a slightly different take. For those of us teaching, researching, and leading, the best PS are very visible in their support, while the worst are visible by their absence. I've worked across several universities over the years and know the benefit of turning up to an MBA/MSc lecture that has been set up by awesome staff who are very present in the room (shout outs to Hannah, Janet, Mikhalia, and many others at Bath, and the teams at Monash and Melbourne), either directly, or through the little touches that can you see indicating their presence.

I've known the difference between clean teaching spaces and technology that always works and increasingly dusty, junk littered spaces and tech that decays. The response to when things go wrong is very visible (brilliant at Nyenrode), regardless of whether someone is there or not. One university I worked at was characterised by the lack of response to emails (or in reality, carefully managed responses, usually to the HoD, but never to staff, with predictable results). I've not always appreciated the visible, until it's not there, and then you realise why PS support, quality systems, and proactivity actually become critical to doing your role well, and also key criteria when searching for a new job.

But, I also agree with Reeds, undoubtedly much is also invisible, the stuff that we may not realise we need, until it becomes obvious that something is amiss. With present cuts, often coming in the form of non-replacement of posts, the blurring between invisible and very visible absence is becoming more common, with staff daily noting that declines seem to be a reality, a general lack of support, a greater sense that the previously invisible work is being pushed onto academics, and the groans that come when that really good PS staff member you relied on decides to call it day.

That takes me back to negative space. Learning to draw involves learning to use negative and positive space to produce harmony. Not every highlight is achieved via drawing, or even shading, but may occur through leaving space alone. I was encouraged by a couple of women on a flight somewhere to try covering a sheet of paper in charcoal and then using an eraser to uncover the picture via negative space. A lightbulb went off, and charcoal remains something I love, but don't use enough of. Universities are much like compositions in this sense, a combination of visible and invisible (or perhaps less visible).

For someone drawing, invisible space is a very valuable and active participant in making your picture work. I often draw my partner, and I've learnt the value of negative and positive space working together through many failures. She's from Turkey which in my mind always means slightly darker skin tone than my pale features. But nothing could be more wrong, and initially all my drawings ended up too dark, something that couldn't be easily corrected. She's paler than me and is far more likely to burn in the sun than I am. So now, when drawing her, my choice of paper becomes fundamental, often forming the negative space, I shade more gently, and use my fingers to work subtle shading in, the number of skin tone pencils gets reduced to the lightest and they're used sparingly to highlight the play of light and shadow. I'm much happier with my pictures as a result.

And herein lies the challenge for universities. Much of what we are assessed on is very visible, including teaching performances, research outcomes, rankings and so on, but relies on the presence of invisible support systems that get easily forgotten or are often downplayed. One colleague at Bath noted years ago that much of the work done by some of our program leads was crucial but undervalued. The point was made during an award ceremony for star teachers, and the colleague was noting that without that invisible work, would these stars shine as brightly. It's a fair one. I've worked at places that lack that invisible work, and not only is teaching harder, it's much less enjoyable, resulting in more alienation from our work and less engagement with it.

Now I'm all for a realigning the growth in overhead. I'm not unaware that while this growth happened, the experience of support seemed to not change or indeed decline. (I'm also aware much is due to increased compliance). Too much that should be invisible is very visible through the presence of larger numbers of staff and the absence of support, engagement, proactivity, or even a clear reason for being. And, much that is visible seems at odds with the university's core business.

But, let's also reflect on how much of our success is underpinned by the negative space of invisible PS and indeed (for want of a better term) admin and support work by academic colleagues (and leaders). Too much positive space produces pictures that are visibly garish, emotionally flat, technically flawed, and are fine for the work of a beginner, but success comes from a more nuanced but conscious understanding of the interplay between positive and negative, visible and invisible.