Book review: Review of Shaping for mediocrity: Universities and the cancellation of critical thinking

As the bard of Barking Billy Bragg once sang ‘Just remember, there are two sides to every story’. You won’t find them in this book, but nonetheless Shaping for Mediocrity is a compelling, if somewhat disjointed account of a particularly turbulent and controversial period in the recent history of the University of Leicester and UK HE more generally. In what the University styled as the ‘Shaping for Excellence’ (SfE) initiative, several academics were placed at risk of redundancy, with some eventually made redundant, as the University sought to divest from certain areas of research. This included a long-established specialism in Critical Management Studies (CMS) (and what the University saw as related areas) present in the University’s Business School.

Such actions were, and remain, highly contested and are treated in Shaping for Mediocrity as a lightning rod for wider hostilities to critical analyses of business and society. No doubt many in academia and especially those in the business school sector in the UK will have at least passing knowledge of events at Leicester in 2020/2021. What is less well-known is the institutional history and context that made a dispute almost unavoidable at some point.

After a preamble containing the inevitable attempt to justify the dispute as a class struggle, the authors’ contextualisation of events within both the institutional history of the University of Leicester and the broader sectoral landscape is noteworthy and commendable. The book also offers an excellent insight into the mutual distrust and seething personal animosities that developed in SfE. The claim by incoming Vice-Chancellor Nishan Canagarajah that Leicester UCU was, at the time, ‘the most intimidating and disruptive branch in the country’ is adopted as a badge of honour, with many examples of why that might be the case provided in the book. Such material serves as a prelude to a detailed account of the prolonged and antagonistic dispute that ensued around SfE. A sojourn into the technicalities of university finances is then presented before an important and thought-provoking debate as to the meaning and primacy of academic freedom. The book concludes with the authors asking ‘could the university be ours?’. Not surprisingly, others have also reviewed the book. Tourish (2025) finds the narrative ‘angry’, the story ‘disturbing’ and largely endorses the authors’ perspectives and prescriptions. Dunne (2024) characterises the book as ‘compelling’, ‘cantankerous’ and ‘contrite’ and admits to being a far from impartial reviewer. He does more to highlight some of the problems associated with the CMS community at Leicester and beyond, but given his perspective, understandably reserves his main ire for senior managers at the institution and the fact that they resorted to ‘recurring tactics’ that effectively offered a ‘playbook’ for other change-managers. Brown (2025) also offers an insightful review and speculates reasonably whether the events at Leicester were a ‘testbed’ for the subsequent broader round of redundancies across the sector. There are other reviews, but generally they are partisan, outraged and seek to link SfE to the broader context of what is happening in UK universities.

Ultimately, the core issue raised in Shaping for Mediocrity concerns the tension between academic freedom and institutional strategic priorities. It uses the tools of CMS, such as organisational sociology and critical accounting, to explore how this macro issue manifested at a local level. Importantly, it zooms back out to ask what this means for critical thinking in the university more broadly.

In SfE, representatives of the University asserted their prerogative to invest limited resources according to strategic imperatives identified (by them of course). Others, including those made redundant and their supporters, saw this as a fundamental breach of the principle of academic freedom. The authors make significant points regarding the importance of scholars being able to challenge orthodoxy and received wisdom and to champion new and controversial ideas. They also point to potential flaws and conflicts of interest in the hearing of their academic freedom cases. But, as the authors also point out, the relevant University ordinance also states that ‘The University will maintain the right of staff to exercise their academic freedom …. subject to the rights of the University to manage its activity efficiently and economically’ (Burrell et al., 2024: 149). In this respect, the institutional case moved beyond arguments related to market demand by also highlighting areas of research that were no longer to be supported. Important implications of such an interpretation are noted, namely that employers are likely to be protected against claims of breach of academic freedom if they can argue that related decisions are strategic in nature and concerned with efficiency and resource allocation.

As this illustrates, where one falls on the question of academic freedom, and the rights and wrongs of SfE, cannot be separated from one’s politics, professional identity, institutional authority and personal involvement. As the authors point out, they were all involved to a significant degree as they were part of the group being made redundant. I was also intimately involved as I was the Dean of the School of Business at the time of SfE nnd my name features at various points in the book. The book, however, teases out broader lessons from the SfE initiative and explains why their effort to reclaim the university ended in what the authors understandably characterise as ‘defeat’.

The most compelling sections in the book see the authors question why the groundswell of support for those at risk in SfE in the early stages of the dispute drained away. That they manage to do so largely without bitterness or recrimination aimed at colleagues is to their immense credit. The book is arguably at its most reflective and insightful when considering such matters. The authors point to practical factors such as the number of colleagues threatened with redundancy falling from 145 to 15 and the length of the dispute meaning that the anger and indignation felt diminished over time. That the dispute happened during the Covid period probably didn’t help the cause as it made face-to-face meetings all but impossible. But the authors also exhibit self-awareness and reflectiveness in tackling some of the more problematic elements of their campaign and indeed their longstanding modus operandi that may not have helped.

Leicester UCU had met with success previously, forcing the then VC Paul Boyle to backdown over a similar industrial dispute and eventually seeing the back of him. The authors cite the liberal use of humour and parody as one of the distinguishing features of Leicester UCU over this time. But there is a thin dividing line between humour and ridicule, including conduct which would be considered unreasonable and unprofessional by most onlookers. A group of almost exclusively white, largely male, relatively senior individuals mocking female members of staff (however senior) in a public pantomime is rarely, if ever, a good look. In SfE, though, senior leadership appeared far more united and resolute and a shared sense of loyalty and support developed as increasingly intemperate treatment was meted out to all those in leadership positions. Instead of changing course, the campaign against SfE became ever more vociferous, which divided matters into ‘us’ and ‘them’. In reflecting on their behaviour and their increasingly intemperate treatment of colleagues as the dispute wore on, the authors state:

‘In a vicious cycle, more enraged utterances only served to further alienate those “moderate colleagues” weary of dispute and ready to “move on” and to substantiate bosses’ narrative that they were the reasonable actors whilst our behaviour was “unprofessional.”’ (Burrell et al., 2024: 62)

Throughout the book, the use of the word ‘management’ in a late 1950s ‘I’m Alright Jack’ simplistic interpretation is an example of efforts to distil a complex picture into a simple dichotomy. Management can of course be a source of power and control and arguably was in this case. But it is also a discipline of strategy, leadership, engendering positive change and helping people fulfil their potential. The authors’ unwillingness to engage with these possibilities – even though two of the named authors were previous Deans – suggests that the book’s goal is not wholly constructive. They tend to portray management as an illegitimate activity per se and to assume that all managers are nefarious schemers.

However, despite their reflexivity, in explaining these events, the book tends to assume too much agency on the part of some individuals and too little on the part of others. Compare, for instance, the section of the book dealing with how individuals were selected for possible redundancy with the description of online militancy. The former will understandably and justifiably arouse much interest. I was unexpectedly placed in a position of decisive authority, effectively functioning as judge, jury, and executioner, despite a lack of intent or preparation for such a role. The situation that unfolded was neither premeditated nor anticipated on my part. The process involved determining whether someone was ‘primarily’ a scholar in the areas no longer to be supported. The authors outline effectively the philosophical and practical challenges associated with such a task, including defining the relevant areas and the time required to read numerous outputs and make informed decisions. There is, though, a suspicion that this was all premeditated. In contrast, when they admit that those opposing SfE crossed the line of appropriate workplace behaviour (for instance: posting a cartoon of the Vice-Chancellor invoking racist stereotypes; employing mocking images of others; describing a colleague as having the appearance of a startled sock puppet; letting it be known that home addresses were being sought for intimidatory purposes; and suggesting that ‘managers’ should be ‘slapped across the neck with a stocking full of diarrhoea’) the authors claim that circumstances gave them no choice. We read: ‘in given circumstances – asymmetric power relations and our righteous anger at what was being done to us – shitposting – along with aggression and other “militancy” were all entirely appropriate ethically – even if not the best option tactically’ (Burrell et al., 2024: 47).

One lesson we might draw from Shaping for Mediocrity is, then, that an ‘targeted and well-informed antagonistic’ approach to relationships with senior colleagues, depending on a clear sense of separation between management and employees and unions, tends to become less targeted, more antagonistic and less successful (Burrell et al., 2024: 28). For example, in May 2021 national UCU published a call drafted by Leicester UCU officers entitled ‘Prospective Students should not apply to study at “international outcast” University of Leicester, say staff’ (Burrell et al., 2024: 62). This enraged many of the said ‘staff’ who had not been consulted or agreed to such a call being issued. As the book points out, this included many hitherto committed activists. This was the first time that many, if not most, of those backing colleagues at risk were effectively being asked to put skin in the game. As the authors acknowledge: ‘Those colleagues who accused us if advocating – even employing – a scorched earth strategy were not entirely incorrect: our strategy if embraced and adopted might have destroyed the university’ (Burrell et al., 2024: 64). The UCU statement was quickly removed after robust discussion within the union, a decision that was not welcomed by those at risk. The authors do acknowledge is that it was a mistake to implement the call for a boycott without wider discussion and consultation. Through it, people perhaps came to realise that the dispute was no longer about saving 15 jobs, but potentially bringing down the university, which the authors characterise rather obtusely as ‘a broader transformation of the university’ (Burrell et al., 2024: 64). The authors stand by their approach, claiming that the university was already being destroyed by senior leaders. The line between transformation and destruction, it seems, is a matter of perspective.

I would imagine that through the dispute, many came to realise that such an approach is a recipe for constant conflict with little or no room for finding common purpose and compromise. So even had this dispute ended in ‘success’ there would have been another one just round the corner. Such a dawning realisation may well have tempered support for those at risk. Maybe the problem was not tactics used to oppose SfE but the underlying antagonisms that we see in the book. The book, and the tactics employed against SfE, adopt the formulaic approaches of CMS scholars that have recently been identified as problematic – even by authors who would normally be considered an integral part of the CMS community. Spicer and Alvesson state that the field: ‘largely repeats well-known tropes, delivers few novel insights, and has little impact on other scholarly fields or areas of policy and practice’ (2024: 472). Some of those critical observations are particularly pertinent in the case of Shaping for Mediocrity. There is a large amount of ‘formulaic radicalism’ and ‘usual suspectism’ on display (2024: 472). Ambiguity and subtlety are overlooked in the interests of ‘class struggle’. The analysis offers no room for nuance – whether in leadership, decision-making, or organisational strategy. Any perspective that is not anti-managerial is dismissed as ‘neoliberal’ or complicit in maintaining ‘capitalist hegemony’.

There is one further theme that deserves greater coverage and reflection in the book. Towards the end of the book, the authors mention, almost in passing that: ‘Some colleagues refused to back us, either because of past affronts (whether perceived or real) or because of their fear of management’ (Burrell et al., 2024: 185). Elsewhere they note that some colleagues may have gone along with the proposals to exact ‘personal revenge’ (Burrell et al., 2024: 90). It is unfortunate that such thoughts are not deconstructed further. The narrative would have benefitted from more reflection as to why more sustained support from a broad range of colleagues was not in evidence and why some colleagues may have felt the need to exact ‘personal revenge’. Important lessons could be learnt.

The CMS scholarly community is largely UK based, extremely inward focussed and mostly white and male (see Rowlinson and Hassard, 2011). Others in the academic community may well find them slightly menacing and words like ‘bullying’ and ‘intimidating’ find their way into conversations when CMS scholars are discussed. Added to that, the general air of superiority and exclusive claim to the moral high ground which tends to emanate from CMS scholars can alienate and frustrate other academics in business schools and beyond. Again, even writers from within the CMS tradition have admitted as much, with Ford et al. candidly stating:

No matter how noble we felt (and feel) our aspirations to be, there was and always is an element of self-interest, of career enhancement, of feeling heroic, of seeing oneself as somehow the superior to less wise subjects. We had to admit to our fallibility as human beings. It also means, of course, that we have to admit to the humanity of those we may otherwise characterize as different from, less than, not as well informed, not as honest, not as high-minded as us: colleagues working in the very business schools that employ us. (2010: 578)

So, is Shaping for Mediocrity likely to change anyone’s position? While the authors’ critical stance is evident and compelling, their affirmative proposals remain less so. A more explicit and succinct exposition of alternative models and necessary actions given the current context would have been very helpful and instructive. Those who share the authors’ worldview will see injustice at every turn and view capitalism and neo-liberalism as the root cause of all the problems in UK HE and beyond. Those who do not share the authors’ political, professional and philosophical convictions may find the uncritical and pervasive deployment of conventional targets and tropes, along with the implicit acceptance of certain premises as axiomatic and unconvincing.

Ultimately, ‘Shaping for Mediocrity’ is a compelling read. It is also highly partisan. What all readers will recognise is the bitter and antagonistic nature of the dispute. Henry Kissinger is reputed to have said ‘the reason that university politics is so vicious is because the stakes are so small’. After reading this book it is apparent that there is even more viciousness when the stakes are raised.