What does the work of a confidential counsellor for academic integrity entail?
‘People can come to us with questions or for advice on how to properly apply the Netherlands Code of Conduct for Research Integrity. For instance, when someone feels a reference to their own work is missing, or when disagreements arise within a research group about the order of authorship in a publication.
As counsellors, we are also there when someone suspects a breach of academic integrity. My first step is to engage in conversation to clarify the nature and seriousness of the situation, so that I can advise on the right course of action. This may include submitting a formal complaint. Once I have provided that advice, the case is no longer visible to me: I will not know whether the person has withdrawn their concern or filed a complaint with the Academic Integrity Committee. Committee on Academic Integrity (AIC). That is intentional, because safeguarding anonymity is essential to ensure that trust can be both given and reciprocated.’
Do you receive many reports concerning academic integrity?
‘I receive very few reports, and I take that as a good sign. The issue has received greater attention in recent years, which has increased awareness. The Code of Conduct for Research Integrity has impact—also because we actively use it in teaching. For example, I currently lead a research lab that introduces bachelor students to writing their thesis. The very first thing we do is discuss the Code of Conduct. That can actually be quite engaging, especially when illustrated with concrete examples showing what happens when the code is not applied properly and things go wrong.
I do, however, regularly have people approach me with concerns about social safety. That is not formally part of my mandate, which can be challenging. At the same time, it seems people trust me enough to confide in me. In those cases, I talk with them to explore what is going on and whether the issue can be resolved one-to-one. If not, I refer them to the confidential counsellor for undesirable behaviour.’
How would you describe the state of social safety at the VU?
‘In any work environment where hierarchy plays a role, there is a risk of social unsafety and universities are no exception. Take PhD candidates, for example, who are dependent on the decisions of their supervisors. That is an inherent structural risk factor which cannot be eliminated. The key is to ensure that people in positions of authority know how to conduct themselves. A supervisor should think: “Hold on, I must safeguard this student’s well-being. I may well have substantive objections, but I must phrase them in a way that is constructive”. Rather than leaving someone in tears, walking out of the room and never coming back.
It does not occur as often now, whereas in earlier times it happened quite a lot. I am glad we now keep a closer watch. Creating awareness is crucial, especially among those higher up the hierarchy. At the same time, it is vital that PhD candidates, students, and staff know there is someone they can turn to if they feel boundaries have been crossed.
At the School of Religion and Theology we bring together students and staff from diverse religious traditions: remonstrants, mennonites, baptist sans members of the restored reformed church, each with their own perspectives. We also have the Centre for Islamic Theology, where students bring cultural practices that sometimes clash with Western conventions. We try to thematise this diversity and make it a subject of dialogue, by pointing out that our community consists of very different subcultures. Our aim is to create a diverse academic community where everyone feels at home and welcome, and where dialogue can take place on academic terms. You may think what you think and say what you wish, but do so in a manner that does not needlessly hurt others.’
What changes have you observed over time in relation to social safety?
‘Within universities, boundaries are much stricter today than 30 years ago, and the workplace has become safer. Not in every respect, because misconduct still occurs, but the culture has shifted. I recall heated discussions with my supervisor in Leiden that were conducted in a tone which would no longer be acceptable today. At the time it was considered normal, but in retrospect perhaps it was not. We are now more cautious, sometimes even hesitant to speak out for fear of offending others, which of course one wishes to avoid.
Yet here lies a paradox: society at large has grown considerably harsher over those same 30 years. This raises the question whether increasing safety alone is the best solution. I believe it is equally important to teach people how to cope with unsafe situations. Within universities, PhD candidates and students are often the most vulnerable. They must learn how to speak up when they feel uncomfortable, how to hold up a mirror to others—and, crucially, where to seek help when needed.’
Are there particular issues in academic practice that deserve attention in relation to social safety?
‘One interesting issue concerns the differences between publication cultures. In theology and biblical studies, we have a traditional philological culture in which scholars typically publish articles and books alone; joint publications are rare. By contrast, in medicine the situation is entirely different. I recently became involved in supervising a PhD candidate in medicine. Her dissertation consists of a series of articles that are reviewed by the supervisory team. To my surprise, every member of the team is listed as a co-author on those papers. This stark contrast in publication culture was an eye-opener for me.
As we shape our new Faculty of Social Sciences and Humanities, I believe this must be a topic of discussion. The social sciences resemble medicine in their publication practices, while the humanities resemble theology. This means our faculty does not share a single publication culture, and that discrepancy can create feelings of unsafety. Imagine a supervisor from the humanities telling a social sciences PhD student: “My name need not appear on the paper”, the student may feel the supervisor is distancing themselves. Conversely, if a social sciences supervisor tells a humanities student:”My name must be included, because that is our practice”, this too may feel unsafe. It is therefore crucial to raise awareness of these differences within the faculty. One possible approach would be to follow the example of the Netherlands Organisation for Scientific Research: their review committees are provided with an explanation of disciplinary publication cultures. In the same way, evaluators could first consider which discipline an application belongs to, in order to understand the norms governing its publication practices.’
How can social safety be further strengthened?
‘For instance by training. I found the Active Bystander training particularly valuable. The difficulty, of course, is that people have very little time. I notice this myself: I sign up for courses I find interesting or important, but then my agenda fills with other obligations and I sometimes have to withdraw.
Education itself also plays a vital role. Together with a Muslim colleague, I taught a module entitled The Invention of Religious Tradition. We first examined the rise of Christianity, then Islam, and concluded with a methodological session on what happens when religions are compared. We asked Muslim students to present on Christian topics, and Christian students on Islamic topics. This proved highly instructive, both for the students and for us as lecturers.
What emerges in such a setting is a community of learners, a traditional VU concept. That in itself fosters social safety, for genuine learning requires a sense of security. Didactically, this is essential: if you want students to exchange ideas, you must create the conditions in which they feel safe to do so, without fear of being torn down for what they say. This requires establishing clear ground rules and cultivating a pleasant, personal atmosphere in the classroom. I am fortunate that our School of Religion and Theology works with small groups. Such an approach is not feasible with fifty or sixty students. Small-scale education is therefore indispensable, even if it runs counter to prevailing utilitarian and efficiency-driven thinking.’
