Behind the Curtains: Opening the Mystic of Academia

Written by: Dr Laura Higson-Bliss (Teaching Fellow- University of Birmingham)

I have been very lucky over the years to secure funding for some fantastic conferences, both here in the UK and abroad. Yet, this is not the same for every early career researcher entering the world of academia or indeed, every academic. Conferences can be an expensive and time-consuming part of an academic’s life. Even the free events come with hidden overheads: travel, food, accommodation and not forgetting the environmental costs. These hardships can more than double if you have a disability (De Picker, 2019). One of the “upsides” - if there are any - of the current COVID-19 crisis is the use of technology to run such events online, creating a more inclusive environment throughout academia. 

The Highs …

Back of a lecture theatre containing people. Picture: The Stocks 2

Back of a lecture theatre containing people. Picture: The Stocks 2

As a PhD student, I was actively encouraged to “get my work out there” and attempt to become known in my field of research. As someone who does not mind public speaking, conferences seemed like the perfect opportunity for me to showcase my work. But conferences are not only about presenting research, they also help to build a community. In fact I have met some of my closest friends through attending events outside my own institution. Networking, exploring ideas, knowledge exchange and friendship are just some of the most important benefits of attending these events (Oester et al, 2017).

Academic conferences are therefore more than just part of the job. They can become part of your identity, especially in the early days. My first year as a PhD student was rocky to say the least. Imposter syndrome is ripe throughout the academic world, from undergraduates to Professors (McMillan, 2016), but it can be stifling for early career researchers. Conferences allow you to build your confidence, in the confinement of people who have been where you are. They allow you to mix with other early career researchers who are likely to be feeling the same types of anguish. Indeed, Mair, Lockstone-Binney and Whitelaw (2018) argue that presenting at conferences helps with both professional and personal development.

… And the Lows

Yet, academic conferences are not wholly inclusive, especially if you have a disability or are self-funding. They can be both physically and mentally exhausting. Just getting to the conference location can be more difficult than actually presenting. These arguments are not new, in fact since as early as 1995 it has been suggested that there are several key factors which can act as barriers to attending conferences (Opperman & Chon, 1995).   

Money, Money, Money

At a time when universities are facing tougher financial constraints than ever before, academics are seemingly having less access to funds through their institutions in order to attend work-related conferences (Mair, Lockstone-Binney and Whitelaw, 2018). It is the absence, or lack of funds which stands as one of the biggest barriers to academic conference attendance (Mair & Thompson, 2009); and registration fees, travel, accommodation, food and childcare (to name but a few) equate to significant amounts of money. The financial costs of attending a conference can often surpass the monthly net pay of a post-doc student (Kircherr & Biswas, 2017). I have in the past used my own money to fund conference attendance - which is not easy for someone who could, on occasion, barely afford rent.


I have in the past used my own money to fund conference attendance - which is not easy for someone who could, on occasion, barely afford rent

Research conducted by Rowe (2017) of 800 UK SRHE conference delegates between 2015 and 2016, found that on average an attendee from the UK spent £1,568 to attend both events, increasing to £2,269 for those travelling outside of the UK. Though many of these costs will have been substituted by universities or through grants, it is important to remember that in most cases, this money originates from public funds (Rowe, 2018).

Conferences in themselves are expensive to run and any “profits” made from these events are often used to support other initiatives such as charities, scholarships and future events (Oester et al, 2017). Yet this does not take into account the extra hidden costs.


Inclusion is a right

Presenting at conferences can be a key component to building a successful academic career (Mair, Lockstone-Binney and Whitelaw, 2018). But pose serious issues for those with disabilities. Research undertaken of 60 disabled academics by Moreau (2017) uncovered a host of barriers associated with conference attendance, including a lack of accessible buildings, fatigue and extra financial burdens; all of which put increased pressure on disabled academics, akin to that of a second job (Hannam-Swain, 2018). Indeed for De Picker (2019):

“I often have to take a taxi to comfortably travel with a wheelchair and luggage. I also have to choose a hotel very close to the venue, if I wish to have the possibility to rest on a bed between sessions. As conferences are typically organised in the city centre, the hotels near the venue are much more expensive. My body cannot handle an exhausting conference schedule of several days, which is already a challenge for academics in good shape ...”.

A lack of understanding as to the extra costs associated with disability and conference attendance means that in some cases disabled academics have had to help fund their conference trips (De Picker, 2019). Even if the added financial cost is possible, further barriers arise once at the conference venue, from a lack of appropriate technology to aid the speaker - to inadequate space to socialise with other delegates (Moreau, 2017; De Picker, 2019). Let’s be fair, many traditional lecture theatre spaces were not built with disability in mind. Part of the highlights of the conference life is getting to meet new people with similar interests to your own. Imagine being in a position, where through no fault of your own this becomes impossible?

Time is of the essence

It is not just the physical costs associated with conferences that can act as a barrier. For some, time can also be an issue. We are currently all working and living in a society where there is increasing pressure for academics to fit more into the 37 (or so) hours we are paid to work (UCU, 2020). Research and teaching time is being squeezed as we continue to be asked to up our game. Conferences are a time where we can be ourselves and enjoy the company of others in similar fields to our own. Yet attending a conference can be extremely time-consuming, especially if you are having to travel outside your own country, have a disability or suffering from underlying health issues (Opperman & Chon, 1995; De Picker, 2019). 

Sand timer. Picture: The Stocks 2

Sand timer. Picture: The Stocks 2

National conference delegates who partook in Rowe’s study (2017) traveled on average 321 miles to attend the 2015 and 2016 SRHE conference; and this rose to 7,218 miles for international attendees. Not only is this bad for the environment, but it also eats away at valuable time that could be spent with our families, especially as academic conference season typically falls between April and September. This burden can be felt even more so for early career researchers and PhD student’s where we are under increasing pressure to publish and complete our studies before incurring another year of fees. 

Yet many of these issues could be reduced dramatically through the use of technology. 

The COVID-19 effect

The COVID-19 pandemic has hit academia hard. Universities have been forced to teach online and its full effect will be felt for years. The virus has appeared smack bang in the middle of conference season, with conference organisers having to go to plan B - technology. Technology has been playing an increasingly important role in conferences for a number of years now (Mair, Lockstone-Binney and Whitelaw, 2018) but the COVID-19 crises has forced conference organisers to fully embrace the digital world.

By being able to virtually attend conferences from the comfort of our own home, time constraints are heavily reduced. It allows for more academic freedom; we can drop in and out when we need to …

Although not perfect, the use of the likes of Skype, Microsoft Teams and Zoom to host conferences and webinars do tackle some of the issues I have raised. With very limited travel options currently available due to the crises, we can attend conferences from the comfort of our own home, reducing overall costs; both physically and mentally. In fact, a conference I was due to attend later this year was originally going to cost around £500 for registration fees, accommodation, travel and food; now with the conference being held virtually, this figure is nearer £50 - a lot more affordable for universities who are facing an unknown financial hardship (Wolff, 2020) and for those who are self-funding. 

In turn, we are also reducing our impact on the environment. From Rowe’s (2017) study, it was found that for those delegates who travelled from outside of the UK to attend the SRHE conferences, their carbon footprint was seven times more than the average person. Even short-haul flights can add up, with Ryanair being ranked as one of Europe’s top polluters (Kier-Byfield, 2019). We can, of course, offset our carbon footprint (Clark, 2011) but it adds to the further financial burden of attending these events.

By being able to virtually attend conferences from our own home, time constraints are heavily reduced. It allows for more academic freedom; we can drop in and out when we need to, and we do not need to spend more time travelling to a venue than actually presenting our work. We do of course miss out on human contact, and we all know how important this is especially during the current COVID-19 pandemic:

“A conference is not just an avenue for a scientist to present their research to the wider community, but it can be an important venue for brainstorming, networking and making vital connections that can lead to new initiatives, papers, and funding, in a way that virtual, online meetings cannot.” (Oester et al, 2017)

… this should be the start of a bigger conversation about how we can use technology to aid the conference experience to see behind the curtains of academia.

But technology does allow for better inclusivity, especially for those with disabilities. Do not get me wrong, it’s not perfect and will encompass issues for some such as the lack of a reliable internet connection and time zone constraints, however it does allow for more creativity; something we should be embracing in a post-COVID world. We can use the likes of podcasts, video recording software and live chats to facilitate discussions which allow people to tune in at a time that is suitable for them. In turn, these outputs can go beyond the world of academia to enhance knowledge exchange between ourselves and third party organisations. We can continue to meet new people with similar backgrounds or research interests, making connections which can aid us in our future academic careers.

By reducing the burden of attending academic conferences in person, we are removing some of the barriers for early career researchers, students and those with disabilities. It should not be the end of face-to-face conferences because, despite the flaws highlighted above, they do have their benefits. But this should be the start of a bigger conversation about how we can use technology to aid the conference experience to see behind the curtains of academia.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank the Digital Culture and Education Journal for the opportunity to write this important piece. I would also like to thank Jonathan Higson-Bliss and Dr Grace Robinson for looking through earlier drafts of my work. As always, any mistakes that remain are my own.