Moral Rights - who cares? We all should!

1.2 The Author hereby also expressly waives, to the fullest extent permitted by law, all moral rights which the Author may now or in the future have, with respect to the Work.

I recently discovered that the above clause is standard for BC Studies (BCS), a regional journal of venerable reputation published by UBC.  The publishing agreement is one of the most restrictive that I have encountered over 25 years of academic publishing.  As an academic I am accustomed to signing away most economic rights attached to my writing. While there are academics who cash in big on their writing most of us benefit most through the simple act of publication: it’s what we are paid to do by our universities; it’s what we need to do to get tenure and to be promoted.  So, we often forego any potential economic rights in our work as the benefit is found through secure employment.

Moral rights, however, are a horse of a different colour.

Moral rights speak to an author’s ability to maintain the integrity of their work. Moral rights ensure proper attribution.  By extension moral rights are fundamental for the maintenance of one’s intellectual property rights.  If we sign away our moral rights we give up all capacity to control our work.  Giving up our moral rights is tantamount to giving up our identity as a researcher and author. So why does UBC legal counsel want us to do this?

As an author I think carefully about the way I piece a work together.  I won’t claim perfection, but I will claim forethought and consideration.  An academic’s reputation rides upon the way in which one expresses oneself. If I lose my ability to control the integrity, the ordering and shape of my work, then I have lost a critical aspect of control over the way in which my academic reputation is shaped. 

If one loses the ability to control the integrity of one’s work there is always the option of taking our name off the piece; to give up attribution.  But if one signs away moral rights one gives up the ability to take our name off a work. 

Consider the following.  Eager to get a work published we have thrown caution to the wind and have signed away our moral rights.  Then, one chances upon said work, recoils in horror with the hatchet job of a reedit. We call up the editor and demand to have our work returned to its original state or at least to take our name off the the work.  But whoops, by signing away moral rights the author has also signed away their rights to control attribution.  There is no legal remedy!

According to BCS the publishing agreement they use was designed by UBC Legal Counsel. Allegedly, the university’s lawyers were quite insistent that authors sign away their moral rights.  The clause (posted above) is quite encompassing and pretty well ensures that there is not a shred of moral rights left in the hands of an author. Why?  It doesn’t really make any sense to me.  All it looks like is an attempt to undermine by intellectual property rights of potential authors.  When I asked for an explanation for the inclusion of the clause there did not appear to be any clear understanding of whyUBC legal counsel wanted it.

I really have no clear understanding of why UBC might want to take the moral rights from authors in publications that they control?  Perhaps it allows UBC to modify, alter, and repackage the work of authors without the hassle of having to secure said author’s permission. Thus UBC could keep our name on a work while fundamentally altering the integrity of the piece, perhaps to use in online course, without ever having to let us know. But really, why would they want to?  Is there really an money to be made by cutting up an obscure academic paper on abalone, forestry, of fisheries? It seems misplaced and of no real consequence for anyone but the author. nI wasn't involved in setting up the agreement and I'm no lawyer, so I have no idea what they really were thinking: but clearly, they weren't thinking about protecting authors' rights.

This clause is of no small consequence.  

Recently, upon receiving the happy news that one of my papers had been accepted by BCS my momentary joy was dashed to pieces by the subsequent receipt of the publishing agreement. I was very surprised.  I was also disappointed.  Despite all the work that had been involved in getting to the state of acceptance I was in no mind to give away moral rights. Some scholars may feel unable to protest the moral rights clause for fear of losing BCS’ offer of publication. Others may well be so pleased with the opportunity that they didn’t stop to consider the implications of the clause. I protested. In fact I also approached other journals to see whether they too had moral rights clauses in the event UBC was intransigent.  

UBC legal eventually waived the clause for me (thank you BCS staff for asking UBC on my behalf). They provided no explanation for granting the exemption nor did they explain why they put the clause into the agreement in the first place. It is not reasonable to merely grant one author who complains an exemption.  UBC needs to remove the clause completely from all past and future publishing agreements.

The right thing to do is to delete the clause on moral rights. 

"It's up to you," UBC legal, do the right thing.

Time for Democratic Reform of the UBC BoG

UBC's vision statement opens with the following: "The University is independent and cherishes and defends free inquiry and scholarly responsibility." It's a laudable statement.  Yet the late Friday announcement of former UBC President Arvind Gupta's resignation is a text book example of something that speaks to a lack of independence, an absence of free inquiry, and very little demonstrated responsibility.

While I have no direct knowledge of the situation I can say that the method by which this resignation was announced speaks more the corporate world of mergers and acquisitions then it does to an institution of free inquiry.  The sub-text of the terse late Friday afternoon announcement reads more like the double-speak of Orwell's 1984 then it does of free and informed inquiry and scholarly responsibility.  Instead we are presented with a fait accompli resignation with no indications of the reasons or justifications.

The UBC Board of Governors is comprised, for the most part, of government appointees.  Unlike under previous provincial governments, all of the current government appointees come from a particular segment of the business world.  They are, I am sure, fine family people, strong advocates of community engagement, and very likely quite personable folk if one were to know them personally.  However, they are all cut from the same cloth.  It is reasonable that the government who pays the bulk of the bill set the policy direction of public institutions.  It is patently unreasonable for a government to so game the system that there is no significant diversity of opinion represented on the Board outside of elected faculty, staff, or student governors.  

We need a rethink on how governors to BC's public post-secondary institutions are appointed.  The governors are to act in the best interests of the university.  However, when the majority of governors come from a narrow band of society their idea of what may constitute the best interests of the university will very likely not be in accord with the actual interests of the university nor with the wider public of the province.  Governors should come from a wide sector of BC society.  They should include regular working people, community activists, union members, doctors, lawyers, and, yes, some business people.  They should not be restricted to major contributors of only one political party, nor should they represent only one small minority segment of society.  Unfortunately, that is the the way our provincial government has structured our university board. Perhaps that has played some role in the unceremonious end of the presidential term of Avrind Gupta.  

I have no special knowledge of the situation.  I have, over the course of the past year had the occasion, through being a member of the University Neighbours Association, to have brief interactions with him and with other members of the senior management team.  I was impressed with my meeting with then President Gupta. I felt that maybe, under his leadership, we might actually see the emergence of something more like responsible government amongst the residential ghetto managed by UBC's Planning department.  Whereas previous upper management types (several of whom who have since departed) responded to my call for greater democratic authority in the UNA area with a blunt "it won't happen," Gupta entertained the idea and ruminated that perhaps change was needed.  What a refreshing change from the constant refusals to relinquish any crumb of democratic authority to residents.

I also heard through various campus networks that Gupta took far more interest in financial matters than any previous university president (and he could understand the numbers).  This was said to cause certain sectors of the university management some degree of discomfort.  Who is to say what the reality was.  One would need to be on the inside and I suspect that there are at least as many stories plus one as there were people involved.

Gupta had the potential to do something here at UBC.  I am sad that his attempt has been prematurely ended. Unlike either Toope or Pipper, Gupta was working his way through faculty meeting with departments to actually speak with us face-to-face.  Gupta articulated an interest in faculty governance, in refocussing the university on what our core mission is supposed to be: research and educating.  Was that threatening to the bloated and constantly growing managerial class at UBC?  Perhaps we will never know.  All that we can say at this time is that the silence of the Board, upper management, and Professor Gupta himself opens the door to much idle speculation and the overproduction of unfounded explanations of what may have really happened. The Board has a social responsibility to open up, be transparent, and honest.  At the moment they risk losing the trust of faculty, staff, students, and the wider public as they play corporate games behind closed doors.

The Tenure Track

            Early on in my career at UBC I found myself with my two young sons at a Thunderbirds’ basketball game in War Memorial Gym.  I’d picked them up from their swimming lessons. On the way home we stopped to watch the women’s game.  The wife of one of my colleagues was also there with her children.  After a few moments watching the game she turned to me and said “ I never saw my husband for the first three years he worked as a faculty member at UBC.” 

            Nearly twenty years later that comment sits with me as though it had only been said yesterday.  At the time it seemed to be part warning, part regret, and part observation on a crazy system of apprenticeship that compels faculty members to sacrifice all to publish as much as they can. 

            As the boys and I walked home after that game I wondered what if I was making a mistake in my priorities. Was I undermining my career?  Did even my colleague’s wife think I wasn’t doing enough to keep the job?

            Getting an academic job is just the start of a very long process of keeping it.  Most of us will have spent a dozen or more years accumulating the education, degrees, and debt required to be eligible for the job offer.  Sometimes we find ourselves in a series of part-time or grant funded positions before landing a tenure-stream job. The tenure-stream position is not, however, a guarantee of a life long job. Now comes the pre-tenure period that I was in when I found myself at the basketball game speaking with my colleague’s wife.  There is no guarantee that at the end of seven years a faculty member will keep their job. A denial of tenure is not rare and it comes with massive social and emotional upset and disruption to family and personal lives.

            The couple of years leading up to the tenure decision, plus the year or more that it takes to make the decision, are arguably the worst years of most academics’ professional lives.  Given the nature of academic work there is no Hail Mary Pass that can save a weak record no deus ex machina that saves the hero at the last minute. By the time one starts to prepare the paper work and compile the portfolio the die has been cast.  It is now a matter of waiting.

            The reality of all of our lives is that we have multiple and conflicting responsibilities and claims upon our time. Figuring out a way to manage all of this is a skill that is seldom taught but necessary to master if one is to succeed in an academic job.  Early in my career I would glance around at my colleagues and wonder whether they had a personal life at all.  It seemed that all they ever did was research and write.  The pressure of the tenure system leads us to squeeze whatever spare hours we might find in our day (or night) to do more work.  This is mostly a system of self-exploitation compounded by the fact that most of us also love what we do. We feel compelled to do as much as possible –even more than is possible- while most of us constantly feel inadequate compared to what we see others doing (even if the others feel the same as we do).

            Given this kind of work environment one needs to deliberately and consciously pause and set aside one’s worry and anxiety.  This is not easy to do.  It is important.  One of the best pieces of advice I every received from a mentor was to reserve a period of time each week for myself to refresh and to step away from my work.
            Reflecting back on that basketball game some two decades ago I am glad that I kept my eyes on the ball – not trying to pump out the most papers, not trying to get the biggest grants- but rather staying as focused as possible on family, friends, and the aspects of my work that is fulfilling and rewarding.  This is ultimately the path to success.  If a new colleague were to ask me for advice I’d say: “get out with your family or friends, go do something fun and forget about the deadlines for a while.  Deadlines will always be here; close friends and family may not.”