The recent dismissal of Professor David Robinson as Vice-Chancellor of Monash University on grounds of plagiarism gives many insights into how the university as an institution has changed. It is first of all an institution pre-occupied with its media image. Secondly, it is an institution that has lost its memory, has lost all substantial connection to any practical notion of the 'community of scholars'. Thirdly, it is increasingly unable to distinguish between substantial plagiarism and plagiarism as an abstract rule.
Plagiarism scandals normally emerge from a veil of secrecy. It is an unusual aspect of this case that Professor Robinson had already admitted to two cases of plagiarism during the seventies and eighties. He was, at least on the account of Jerry Ellis, the university chancellor, a superb administrator and, apparently, this was sufficient to overlook these early misdemeanours. Even after the uncovering of a further 'indiscretion' by John Bigelow, Professor of Philosophy at Monash, the chancellor continued to support David Robinson. But the rumoured prospect of yet others was too much and the Chancellor came to the conclusion that the situation was untenable. The end of Professor Robinson's tenure was suddenly announced.
Yet while the facts seem to be undisputed, the meanings of the affair have hardly been touched upon. For the media, there is a voyeuristic fascination with the otherness of this 'strange' rule that can send a whole institution into frenzy. The discussion of the affair has been almost exclusively around the great rule against plagiarism that is so important to academia, and how this rule for a time was being set aside in the name of institutional governance.
Yet claims about plagiarism can never be properly assessed by the media for they cannot be reduced to a simple rule suitable for a scandal sheet. The immediate principles associated with the 'rule' of plagiarism are actually grounded in social practices that demand an unusual balancing act. On the one hand, a core assumption of academic practice is that the craft should be practised autonomously: academics should make judgements and develop arguments via their independent scholarly activity. On the other hand, this autonomous activity can hardly exist in a vacuum: it is absolutely dependent on the scholarly activity of others. This core issue of autonomy and the cooperative sharing of ideas and findings is inseparable from much of the positive value of intellectual work, including a fearless telling of the truth. The 'rule' -- that draws the charge of plagiarism when broken -- requires that all sources be properly cited, that ideas shared are properly acknowledged. Only then can academic work proceed with justice to all.
From an academic standpoint, the charge of plagiarism does not apply to mistakes. Rather, plagiarism is a dishonest process, often of some considerable complexity, that cuts across the ethic of intellectual inquiry. It requires carefully developed judgements. The 'rule' against plagiarism is thus not an abstract rule: it is an aspect of a living process from which it gains its meaning.
It is, of course, this living process of cooperative autonomy -- what is sometimes called collegiality -- which is placed under serious stress by the restructuring of the academy that has continued now for fifteen years, since the days of John Dawkins. That the free sharing of ideas is now increasingly displaced by self-interest (expressed through the need to trade in 'intellectual capital') undermines the substantial meanings of plagiarism. One may exploit intellectual capital but then academic work is largely conceived individualistically, like that of an entrepreneur, with a highly restricted interest in sharing ideas. The citing of the work of others from this standpoint is pursued partly to fit an abstract rule about plagiarism and partly to enhance the value of the idea in question so it can be better sold. So when the academic world intersects with the market and careerist orientations, distortions in the intellectual ethic quickly appear. One need only think of the domination of the citation index in academic affairs to see how a simple and important value, such as citing the work of others, can be distorted in certain circumstances to completely devalue academic activity itself. The rule comes to have a life of its own.
A passing knowledge of what has happened to universities generally over the last fifteen years makes it easy see that cooperative endeavour is difficult in these new settings. That the university plays the media game, as did Jerry Ellis, is all too typical of the transformed academy -- now a market player as well as a power in its own right. Nor is it surprising that some of the critics of this process are also marked by the transformation. When John Bigelow, for example, states that 'having a plagiarist as the head of a university is like having an embezzler running an accounting firm', this certainly rings bells in these days of corporate fraud but it fails all the more substantial tests of institutional similarities. It is true that the transformed academy is more like a money-based institution that fears the embezzler, but this is to accept the recent changes with a vigour that throws the baby out with the bathwater. The simile fits if plagiarism is no more than a simple rule generated to handle individualistic behaviour -- with some individuals ready to plunder institutional intellectual capital. But this entrepreneurial model leaves out completely the complexities of a co-operative endeavour oriented towards an intellectual ethic. That transformation extends to the intersection of the media and the university itself. As one senior administrator recently commented, 'branding' and 're-branding' is the way forward for the academic institution. And positive publicity is certainly one of the conditions of its existence now that it has become an institution that creates a new type of value for the global order. But this transforms the university on the terms of the media. Not conducting a proper academic inquiry into the claims of plagiarism is typical of an institution at the mercy of media necessities.
That Professor Robinson was one of the architects of this transformation makes the charge of plagiarism all the more ironic. His plea that his indiscretions were the consequence of 'pressure' seems especially ironic given the pressures that staff and students can hardly avoid in the institutions that he has helped develop. A short-term glee that he who has caused so much pain has now got his come-uppance is understandable enough. Nevertheless, a broader perspective would take us in a different direction. As a response it needs to be set aside in the name of proper academic process. Otherwise this response will merely feed media interest, and also undermine the prospects of any renewal of the practical intellectual ethic of which the charge of plagiarism is but one aspect.
