Way back in l997 – almost a decade ago – we were regaled with a white paper on reforms that could be implemented at the University of Malta. That document did not stimulate much of a public discussion. It certainly failed to disturb the Olympian tranquility of the higher academic circles in the fastness of Tal-Qroqq.

That white paper focused on the need for more transparency in the examination and correction process. It proposed the setting up of a University ombudsman. Its thrust was in favour of a more accountable and humane system on campus. None of this goes against the grain.

The wonder was that these proposals were advanced so late in the day. Positive though this was, the sad truth was that these proposals did not go anywhere near the heart of the matter – which is that a university should be a seat of learning, where the pursuit of knowledge is ignited by research and stimulated by a free academic environment, where ideas are debated and certainties questioned in full view.

It has been rightly pointed out that schools are about teaching and instruction, while universities are about research, the stretch of knowledge and the use of accumulated knowledge to challenge accepted norms. Universities are supposed to be institutions where academically qualified people in different disciplines undertake research in various fields, be they scientific, economic or literary.

The cart before the horse

The University of Malta sadly falls short of this status. In the more recent years, massive resources were invested to increase the intake of students and to upgrade the physical infrastructure. With hindsight, it now looks as if the powers-that-be were putting the cart before the horse.

The university continues to be, mainly, a glorified post-secondary school, where some 8,000 students beaver away at an assembly line, whose ultimate objective is the attainment of examination results and the acquisition of a warrant or degree.

I recall a leading article in The Malta Independent, way back in May l997, on what it called “the school at Tal-Qroqq”. It noted, with a good measure of disappointment, that the passion for research, the urge to discover new things, and then sharing this knowledge with others, was experiencing an embarrassing decline.

The point at issue

The punch line was encapsulated in one telling sentence: “Discourage, worse still, kill research and the university risks becoming a joke, churning out ‘graduates’ just about able to parrot the lectures they were given, and the lessons learnt from books, but finding it difficult to delve much deeper than that”.

This was strong language. Some research output has been coming out in driblets from Tal Qroqq. It has been meagre in the mass. The newspaper’s generalisation carried, and continues to carry, ample weight.

At that time, there appeared an authoritative comment on all of this from Professor Jeremy Boissevain, a distinguished Professor of Social Anthropology who knew what he was talking about, having lectured at the Universities of Malta, Sussex and Montreal.

He ventured the opinion that key university staff are underpaid, which is why they look for other commitments.

This is detrimental to full time teaching and some academics end up rarely giving the full lira to the students. Moreover, there is too much lecturing and no feedback from students. There is too little research. Students are tied up in endless lectures and have little time to read, think and challenge ideas.

The years have rolled on. Tal-Qroqq has not changed.

The University’s contribution to society could not be described as fulsome.

Serious shortcoming

The academic community still has to make a valid contribution to the debate on public finance. The same could be said about constitutional issues, economic development options and on the multifarious environmental problems, all of which are vital to Malta’s future progress. Like sheep, Maltese public opinion has been looking up, and has not been fed.

There is much to argue about the other side of the coin.

When Professor Edward Scicluna took the initiative to raise his voice in the public forum, he was set upon, and his right to express a straight forward opinion on economic policy was contested in high quarters.

The point I would like to make is that the academic body should display the interest and the courage to lead opinion and to argue its case – indeed, Malta’s case – from a university which costs much and yields relatively little in return.

Malta sorely needs academics of the calibre of Professor Scicluna to stimulate public debate, to address policy issues and to examine alternatives at the right time.

This is all about leadership, about academic integrity and above all, about making good use of Malta’s prime human resources.

Taking the initiative in this vital area is not merely a prerogative of the university. It is its duty.

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