Sorry, but the small funding cuts imposed on the universities in the budget don't rouse any sympathy from me.
In an ideal world we'd be investing more in our universities, but our world is far from ideal. And so are our unis. They're inefficient bureaucracies, with bloated administrations and over-paid vice chancellors.
To hear them talk, you'd think unis were the fount of all economic virtue. According to Sydney University's Michael Spence, the budget was "an opportunity missed, because the government's done nothing about the significant cost of research and, of course, university research is fundamental to the innovation economy about which the government is so enthusiastic".
Sorry, prof, but the electorate's too well-educated to swallow such spin. The unis contribute to innovation, but it comes from other sources as well, and the unis' contribution should be better than it is without extra funding.
It's true our unis are obsessed by research, but any innovation this leads to is almost accidental. The research the unis care about is papers published in prestigious foreign journals, which they see as the path to what they're really striving for: a higher ranking on the various international league tables of universities.
Education Minister Simon Birmingham boasts that, on one table, six of our 43 unis are in the top 100, with nearly half in the top 300.
The pollies should stop doing this. It just encourages our "sandstone" unis – the self-dubbed Group of Eight – in their crazy, self-absorbed race.
Had Birmingham's predecessor succeeded in deregulating fees and let the sandstones exploit their monopoly pricing power, they would have delighted in overcharging their students and increasing students' cross-subsidy of the academics' research.
All of us should strive for excellence in our work, but when you start trying to force the pace with league tables and the dreaded KPIs – key performance indicators – you lose the plot.
You shift the rewards from intrinsic to extrinsic, and almost as much effort goes into trying to game the indicators of excellence as being excellent. The big rewards go to those who excel at appearing excellent.
Our big unis are so obsessed by research that academics' promotion is determined almost solely by how many papers you've had published and how prestigious were the journals you got into. Plus how much in research grants you've brought to the uni's coffers.
Apart from the time they spend thinking of ways to turn the same bit of research into more than one paper, our sandstone academics seem to spend more time applying for research grants than doing research.
Then there's the cultural cringe. The sandstone unis are filling their upper positions with sunshine-seeking Poms, Canadians and the odd eccentric Yank, in the belief they'll do better than the locals at getting published in prestigious international journals.
Our academic economists have even conned the federal government into spending taxpayers' money in ways that penalises those economists foolish enough to want to research the Australian economy.
That's because American journals won't publish articles about a small and boring country like ours, but our own journals don't rank in the unis' eternal quest for a higher international ranking.
Notice anything missing? Ah yes, all those students hanging around universities.
The unsatisfactory state of our unis is partly the product of our federal politicians' – Labor and Coalition – decades-long project to quietly and progressively privatise our universities via the backdoor.
Like so much misconceived micro-economic reform, this project hasn't worked well. Put a decades-long squeeze on unis' government funding and what happens? The unis intensify their obsession with research status-seeking and do it by exploiting their market power over students – while building ever larger bureaucracies.
There are some excellent teachers in universities, but they're the exception. The unis pretend to value good teachers – and award tin medals to prove it – but, in truth, there are no promotions for being a good teacher.
Students are seen as a necessary evil, needed because the public thinks teaching their kids is the main reason for continuing to feed academics.
Since Julia Gillard's spendthrift decision to remove the limits on how many uni places the government is prepared to fund, the unis have slashed their entrance requirements so as to rip as much money off the feds as possible.
Are they producing more would-be teachers or journalists or candlestick makers than the economy needs?
Who cares? All the unis know is that cramming more students into lecture theatres yields economies of scale that can be diverted to pay for more research – and pay for some part-time casual to do your teaching for you.
