Thursday, 18 June 2026

Life as Crisis Management: An Open Letter to the UUP


You know, I like the idea of unions, particularly American unions, more in theory than in practise. But hey, isn't that true of so many things in life including social engineering plans? 

The reason I like unions and particularly American unions more in theory (though lesser in theory than European unions) than in practise is because I have been, as Nick Lowe puts it, nutted by reality. 

Let me explain. As a graduate student I was wrongly dismissed by a kind of vanity project (Project Renaissance) that was already carbon dated before it began and my union rep did little to help. Another union rep, in fact, later told my closest friend that I had indeed been screwed over by the union and that my case had been poorly handled by the union rep (who is still, I am told, still the union rep; nice job if you can get it). Then when I was an adjunct at Oneonta, where I joined the union, the same union that represented the full-time faculty and their "interests" (which were not always those of the part-time adjuncts) I was informed by a union official of what later became a clear reality, the powers that be were hiding classes of adjuncts so that no one could sign up for them in order to limit adjuncts to one class and, as a consequence, no health care since you had to teach two classes at the same college or university in a term to get the health insurance. The union basically took the powers that be party line (now what again is the labour theory of aristocracy?). 

After I retired I initially thought about joining the union largely for the benefits (the single reason many joined the union before retirement). I rolled over in my mind whether to join and eventually I did. So I sent my fifty dollars into the union, asked for a member card, and asked for information on vision and dental benefits which were available only through the union before retirement. The only thing I got was a no to getting a member card and no information on benefits. I responded with an up yours and turned in my card not card and got vision and health insurance through the state instead. 

I have recently written to the union because I want the vision benefit once again, twice. And this time, twice this time, I have gotten no reply. I have also recently re-signed my union card and made a confession of faith (“I recognise the need for a strong union and I believe everyone represented by a union should pay their fair share to support the union’s activities") as a part of it. Amen. Apparently, one thing the union is really good at, however, is Amish style shunning of dissidents like me. No union membership for me.

I am going to try again to get the unions attention by sending them this letter because I may not like unions in practise but I do like benefits in both theory and practise. So hey UUP can you send me an application for union membership form and information on benefits including their cost and where you send the dough for said benefits? If you can't do that can you please (I said please) tell me why and where I can go to file a complaint against you (AG?, Departments of Labour?)? 

Thank you. Have a nice day.

Friday, 12 June 2026

Life as Crisis Management: The Presto Classical Meets FedEx Kiada

I have been buying classical CDs from Presto Classical in England for a number of years now. My experience with the company has been good, quite good, that is until recently. 

Let me tell you how my experience with Presto recently took a downturn. Last month Presto had a half off selected Hyperion releases sale and I bit. I bit hard. I bought 33 discs during the sale because I have been collecting Hyperion’s Romantic Piano Concerto, Classical Piano Concerto, Romantic Violin Concerto, and French Song series for a number of years and a number of discs I wanted to get were part of the sale. 

As I mentioned earlier I had never had any problem with Presto. This time, however, I had a problem, a big problem, with the condition of the discs when they arrived. In the past discs I received from Presto were packed carefully and packed carefully in bubble wrap protecting the jewel cases from damage. This time was different, however, different in a number of ways. First off this time the default for shipping from Presto in England to the US, which is pricey but is generally more than offset by sales deductions if you buy enough discs and the quality of the packing, was FedEx. I admit I thought about paying the higher charge for shipping via USPS since my experience previously with FedEx was not good but I didn’t. In retrospect I should have.

Why is that? Well to begin with FedEx failed to get the measurements of the package which they needed to get in order to get the package through US Customs. They apparently did not get them from Presto and Presto did not make sure they had them on the manifest because, I was told, this was only a recent mandate and FedEx was not consistent at getting them. FedEx, in an act that was truly surreal, called me to ask me for the measurements. At first I though it was a prank call since obviously I could not give the measurements of the package to them since I did not pack the package or post the package and thus did not know the measurements of the package. Duh. I could only speculate about how tall, long, and wide it was.

Eventually the package did get out of customs gaol and made it through US Customs thanks to my emails and those particularly of Presto. Once the package was released from customs, however, FedEx, of course—and why would they since they are FedEx!—did not try to make up for their incompetence by getting the package to me as quickly as possible. It took several days before it arrived at its destination.

When the package finally did arrive nine days after FedEx said it would I got another big surprise. The discs arrived in a box that was 11 inches wide, 1l inches long, and a little over 11 inches tall, in a box, in a box, that was way too big to hold them tightly and thus protect them. The 33 disc, of course, bounced around in the box at will. When I opened the box, which took me aback given its size, it looked as if the discs had simply been thrown into the too big box with one piece of bubble wrap around them. That one piece of bubble wrap, of course, was not ample enough to protect the discs and was also slashed in several places. As a result 30 of the 33 discs had damaged jewel cases, severely damaged jewel cases in some instances. I gave the benefit of the doubt to Presto concerning this "packaging" since Presto items typically arrive in boxes that have their logo on the package. This box did not have that logo. It  thus appears that the package was damaged in transit and that the workers at FedEx simply dumped the CDs into an oversized box, yet more evidence of FedEx incompetence and their seemingly we don't give a shite mentality. 

I, of course, wrote Presto immediately. I sent them pictures of the box and sent them a picture of one of the damaged discs. I was not about to take pictures of all 30. I asked for a return label so I could return all the discs since I had and have no interest in purchasing a bunch of discs that look like they have been attacked by plastic eating mice or rats. 

So, what have a learned from this fiasco? I have learned yet again that FedEx is crap when it comes to shipping product and packing product. I have learned once again that capitalist efficiency and effectiveness is a crock. I have learned once again that I probably will have to file a complaint concerning FedEx with the New York Attorney General’s office of consumer issues and fraud.

Postscript: After sending two emails to Presto and getting no response I finally posted about the case of the mystery of the box that was too big for the CDs on the Presto Facebook page. I got an immediate response. Presto said they would look into the issue and also said they had done a search of emails sent to them via keywords and finally found my emails to them. They also asked me for more pictures which they could send to FedEx in order to confirm the damage FedEx did to the discs.

What I have done in the interim is buy CD jewel cases to replace the 30 that were broken and in some cases massacred by FedEx. That cost me fifty bucks. Presto offered to send me some but, of course since Murphy's Law is almost always in effect, they did so only after I had already purchased replacement jewel cases viaAmazon. I would prefer instead a reduction in my bill since it is very likely that Presto will get some remuneration from FedEx for this fiasco as I assume they had insurance on the package, or a gift card, preferably a gift car. No word on either yet..



 

Monday, 1 June 2026

The Books of My Life: Radical Campus

I don’t recall when I first heard about Simon Fraser University. It had to be sometime in the 1970s. I knew that it was one of the new universities being created and built around the globe in the post-World War II period in places like Great Britain (the most interesting of the bunch on new universities in the UK for me was the University of Sussex thanks to its interdisciplinarity), the United States (SUNY Albany), Canada (SFU, Lethbridge, Trent), Australia (La Trobe, Flinders, New South Wales, Macquarie), New Zealand (Waikato), and France (Nanterre). I also knew that Tom Bottomore, whose work on the history of sociological thought I admired, was there. What I did not know was that Bottomore had come and gone by the time I considered applying to Simon Fraser and that he came and went because of Simon Fraser's growing pains.

I thought about applying to Simon Fraser when I began applying to university in the 1970s. I ended up not applying, however, for some reason, probably because of the rain which I had had more than enough of when I visited my mum's England. Instead I ended up matriculating at Indiana University in Bloomington, something that, in retrospect, I regret given the humidity of the area and what has happened to that “university” in recent years. I now wish I had applied to SFU, the University of British Columbia, and the University of Texas, where I was going to finish my Indiana undergraduate degree anyway because of the health problems I had as a consequence of the climate in Bloomington, Indiana.

When it came time to apply for a postgraduate degree I once again considered applying to Simon Fraser. I ended up not doing so though I applied to several other universities in Canada including the University of Toronto,  the university closest to my heart in North America, and Queen’s University in Kingston, where Klaus Hansen and George Rawlyk, both of whom I wanted to study with. I also applied to the University of Chicago, the University of Kansas, and La Trobe University in Australia where I wanted to work with Rhys Isaac. I was admitted to all of them though none of them worked out for various reasons most of them revolving around money. I did not have it and I did not get the necessary financial aid in the form of teaching or research assistantships at any of them. I did get into a snail mail shouting match with the graduate chair at Kansas who eventually told me that perhaps I was not a University of Kansas kind of guy. I guess I wasn't. Oh well, such is academic life.

I never forgot SFU, however. Given my interest in the history of higher education and particularly in the history of higher education in Canada, the US, and, to a lesser extent, England and Australia, I never forgot that Simon Fraser was one of the new universities and I was interested in these new universities and if they really were that different from the old ones. For these reasons I wanted to learn more about the history of Simon Fraser. When the opportunity arose I picked up a copy of SFU historian Hugh Johnston’s history of the early years of Canada's “experimental” and “radical” (I would prefer the term “progressive” instead here) university Radical Campus: Making Simon Fraser University (Vancouver: Douglas and McIntyre, 2005).

Simon Fraser University, as Johnston makes clear, is historically important, for more than simply being one of the new universities being built across the globe in the post-World War II era. Along with the University of Victoria (initially a satellite campus of McGill University in Montreal and later a satellite campus of University of British Columbia) in the BC provincial capital, SFU, and importantly so, broke the monopoly on higher education UBC long had in the province of British Columbia. The government of Social Credit premier W.A.C Bennett decided, in the early 1960s, thanks in particular to demographic pressures, to break UBC’s monopoly on higher education in the province, and he did. As a consequence Simon Fraser offered to BC’s growing student population an alternative to UBC, as did the community colleges established in the province around the same time.

Though Simon Fraser was the brainchild of the Bennett government SFU was and is, as Johnston tells us, Gordon Shrum’s university. Shrum, who had been a physics professor at UBC, head of BC Hydro, which the Social Credit government had also created, and first chancellor of SFU, was, to a large extent, the creation of Shrum, It was he who, with the help of SFU’s first president Patrick McTaggert-Cohen and its first academic planner Ron Baker, both of whom Shrum hired, built this “instant university” from scratch between 1963 and 1965, the year the campus, which was still partly under construction, opened on the top of Burnaby Mountain east of Vancouver.

Shrum, McTaggert-Cohen, and Baker, Johnston tells us, established SFU’s character, its curriculum, hired its administrative staff, hired the initial heads of faculties at the university, and hired its architect and designer, Arthur Erickson and Geoffrey Massey (yes one of those Masseys). The modernist campus Ericson and Massey built (one similar to the campuses of the new US Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs Colorado, the new SUNY Albany campus in the capital of New York, and a host of other modernist campuses across the globe), reflects Shrum’s vision for SFU, one that drew on English elements and American elements. The massive Academic Quadrangle simulates, for example, if in miniature the quads and courts of Oxford and Cambridge while Shrum’s establishment of a board of governors for the university reflects a more US style of academic governance, a style of governance adopted by the University of Toronto and other Canadian universities in the early twentieth century and after. One might argue that this mixture of the English and the American is what makes English language Canadian universities Canadian and part of what, at least in part, makes English Canada, English Canada.

Shrum's academic vision for his university, one that was somewhat English, was one of curricular interdisciplinarity, a curricular interdisciplinarity dominated by the humanities, the arts, and education (the only other “practical”professional schooling for employment after graduation, commerce, was added at the last minute at the behest of one of the members of the board of governors Arnold Hean). His was a vision of a university with a small cadre of administrators, of a university with active faculty heads initially appointed by him and his staff, and of a university with an active faculty association (which never really got off the ground in the early years of the school given that limited numbers of faculty joined it).

Shrum’s vision for SFU was initially something that drew interested faculty and students to it in its early years. Many of them were fascinated by the university's “experimental” and “radical” or interdisciplinary aspect and character. Some will see this fact, namely that it was this “experimental” and “radical” in character, also, at least in SFU"s early years, Simon Fraser's Achilles heal. Much about the workings of process and power at SFU was not spelled out or addressed by its founder. Initially the play of power within the university had a more informal collegial English like character, hence the importance of faculty heads and the small administrative staff. Once issues of hiring, promotion, and tenure (something that was more important in American universities at the time) came into play, however, the struggle over who had the power became of great important.

The fact that SFU got up and running just as the student movement was becoming prominent, Johnston reminds us, all across the globe, also complicated the battle over process and power at SFU. This was exacerbated by the fact that one of the things the student movement and its faculty allies were concerned with was who had the power in universities. Many students and many faculty at SFU wanted more "democratic” universities in general and a more “democratic” Simon Fraser in particular. An additional aspect that complicated this struggle for power in at SFU was the fact that as Canadian universities were created and grew in the 1960s the differences between British, American, and Canadian conceptions of power and process, particularly amongst its nationally varied faculty, became increasingly important.

The issue of who had the power, as Johnston points out, became problematic at SFU when the questions of how faculty heads were chosen and when hiring, promotion, ant tenure issues and procedures reared their ugly heads in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Many faculty (culture wars within the faculty are quite common) and students (culture wars amongst students are quite common) preferred elected to appointed heads seeing the election of heads as more “democratic”. They soon got what they wished for, and as a consequence, this gave meany the heady sense that, as Johnston notes, further “democratisation” of the university (not to mention Canadian society) was possible (the heady air of reform and revolution). As Johnston notes, these debates and disagreements, disagreements that eventually led to a strike by some Political Science, Sociology, and Anthropology faculty, an increase in paranoia and misreadings on all sides, and the Canadian Association of University Teachers (CAUT) censuring SFU twice for limiting academic freedom, if to little real effect, were the result of this battle for power and control of Simon Fraser University. That the battles in this culture war resulted in what was and is the original sin at the heart of American, Canadian, and increasingly British universities, the establishment of boards of governors made up of non-faculty elements who had a monopoly on power and who appointed the president and chancellors of their universities, will likely be read as a paradox by many. This original sin was aided and abetted by the BC legal system when a judge ruled that the power to hire and fire at SFU lay exclusively with the board of governors and that, as a consequence, whatever procedures there were for hiring, promoting, and firing of faculty was theirs.

Long story short, a long short story Johnston is more implicit about than explicit about (he is a historian after all), SFU became what it appears Shrum and many faculty who came to SFU in the early years of the school did not want it to become, a corporate university run by a board of governors and its appointed president. The history of the once “experimental” and “radical" SFU, in other words, was like that of other Canadian, American, and British universities in the post World War II period. SFU’s story, even if it began as something different, was the same as that of other universities in North America and Britain. It is a story of increasing bureaucratisation (see Max Weber), of increases in administrative personnel particularly in the middle and lower echelons of the administrative bureaucracy. It is the story of the bureaucratisation of faculties and the story of the increasing use of part-time quasi- faculty (sessionals, adjuncts),. It is the story of the need for more monies, monies that were increasingly raised via fundraising and wealthy donors as public support for education has not kept up fully with increasing numbers of students matriculating in universities. It is the story, of ever more pressure for “practical" professional programmes and the presence of more “practical" professional schools as the ideology of education for a job became more and more predominant and dominant (see Thorstein Veblen on this), a decline in the importance of the humanities, and the bureaucratisation of the interdisciplinarity that made SFU somewhat unique as it became a faculty with specific emphases rather than a mode of general operation. It is the story of more campuses, and, in turn, an even greater need for administrative personnel and the need—the circle of university life—to raise even more monies via fundraising and from wealthy donors who want their cut of “practical” and professional flesh as a consequence, and Americanisation. It is the story of isomorphism in action.