For several centuries, human beings have maintained that universities exist to educate the young.
This theory, while intuitively appealing, has recently come under scrutiny.
Extended observation of the tertiary environment suggests that education may be only one component of a much larger ecological process.
The university appears to be a habitat.
And the principal organism inhabiting it is Homo academicus.
The species is widespread. It has been observed on every continent except Antarctica, although preliminary evidence suggests that a small number of specimens may have been detected there during conferences.
It is particularly abundant in temperate climates, where it favours large stone buildings, glass atria and rooms with inadequate ventilation.
The species is remarkably adaptable.
It can survive on coffee, grant income and institutional recognition.
Its natural predators include budgetary constraint, administrative restructuring and the sentence:
"We're going to need to make some efficiencies."
But the greatest threat to the species comes from within.
Homo academicus is an intensely social animal.
Its survival depends upon the transmission of learned behaviours from one generation to the next.
And this is where the story becomes interesting.
The Tertiary Habitat
At first sight, the university appears to be an artificial environment.
It contains lecture theatres, laboratories, libraries, offices and seminar rooms.
Closer observation reveals that these are not merely buildings.
They are ecological niches.
The lecture theatre is the preferred habitat of the juvenile.
The library provides feeding grounds for certain specialised populations, although in recent years some specimens have been observed feeding almost exclusively through electronic devices.
The seminar room is a social aggregation site.
The corridor serves as a migration route.
The faculty meeting provides an important communal display ground.
And the café is indispensable.
Indeed, some researchers believe that the café may constitute the true reproductive centre of the species.
The hypothesis remains controversial.
Further research is required.
The Juvenile
The young Homo academicus enters the habitat in an unusually vulnerable state.
It possesses intelligence, curiosity and a considerable capacity for imitation.
It does not yet, however, know what to do with any of these.
This makes the juvenile highly susceptible to environmental influence.
At this stage, the young animal has not yet acquired the characteristic behaviours of the adult.
It may still speak in ordinary language.
It may ask straightforward questions.
It may even believe that a university education is primarily concerned with acquiring knowledge.
These symptoms generally disappear.
The juvenile soon begins to observe the adults.
This is the beginning of the process known as academic imprinting.
The Adult
The mature specimen is easily recognised.
It moves through the habitat with apparent purpose, although observers have occasionally found that this purpose is difficult to establish.
The adult possesses a distinctive vocal repertoire.
Common calls include:
"That's an interesting question."
"It depends what we mean by..."
"I think the literature is rather more complicated than that."
"Have you considered...?"
And, during periods of territorial tension:
"As I have argued elsewhere..."
The last of these is particularly significant.
It indicates that the animal has previously marked the territory in question.
The statement should therefore not be interpreted merely as an attempt to provide information.
It is a territorial signal.
The First Gaze
The most important event in the juvenile's early development occurs when it encounters a sufficiently compelling adult.
Researchers call this the First Gaze.
The phenomenon is difficult to observe directly because it frequently appears unremarkable.
A lecturer enters a room.
The juvenile listens.
Something happens.
The adult may possess unusual intellectual confidence.
It may speak about a subject with an intensity the juvenile has never previously encountered.
It may make an obscure distinction appear extraordinarily important.
It may ask a question which causes the juvenile to realise that the question it had previously thought important was, in fact, rather less interesting than it had imagined.
The juvenile watches.
And follows.
This is the beginning of imprinting.
Imprinting
Imprinting is not, however, the simple copying of information.
This distinction has caused considerable confusion among earlier researchers.
The juvenile does not necessarily reproduce the adult's conclusions.
Instead, it acquires something more subtle.
It learns what the adult notices.
It learns what counts as a problem.
It learns which distinctions matter.
It learns what constitutes an interesting question.
It learns how uncertainty is expressed.
It learns how disagreement is performed.
It learns, above all, how an academic inhabits a world of concepts.
This process is remarkably efficient.
The adult need not explicitly teach most of these behaviours.
The juvenile simply observes.
The species appears to possess an extraordinary capacity for acquiring forms of participation without being aware that it is doing so.
Ecological Selectivity
The habitat plays an important role.
The university does not present every possible feature of the world to the animal with equal prominence.
Some things are made noticeable.
Others are allowed to disappear.
A seminar room affords questioning.
A journal affords citation.
A supervisor affords imitation.
A conference affords display.
A research programme affords certain questions and renders others comparatively strange.
The animal responds to these affordances.
It notices what the environment has made noticeable.
This phenomenon has been given the technical name Ecological Selectivity of Attention.
The term is currently under review by a committee.
Academic Plumage
As the juvenile matures, changes begin to appear.
Its vocabulary becomes specialised.
Its sentences become longer.
It develops preferences concerning punctuation.
It acquires opinions about theoretical distinctions that would previously have appeared insignificant.
It begins carrying books.
At some point it says:
"In my work..."
This marks an important developmental transition.
The animal has acquired academic plumage.
Plumage varies considerably between populations.
One population may display references to continental philosophy.
Another may display statistical terminology.
A third may favour words such as "situated", "embodied", "intersectional" or "material".
The precise form of plumage is less important than its function.
It tells other animals:
I belong here.
The Academic Colony
Although individual specimens maintain conceptual territories, Homo academicus is highly social.
Groups gather in research centres, schools, departments and institutes.
The groups often share distinctive plumage.
They also share characteristic feeding habits.
Some consume historical texts.
Others consume datasets.
Some consume theories.
A small but vigorous population appears to consume methodologies.
The colony provides protection against intellectual predators.
It also provides opportunities for reproduction.
For the most important characteristic of the species is that mature individuals do not merely inhabit the academic environment.
They reproduce within it.
They produce papers.
They produce concepts.
They produce theories.
And, most importantly, they produce juveniles.
A Curious Discovery
For many years, observers assumed that the primary function of the university was the transmission of knowledge from adults to juveniles.
Recent fieldwork has complicated this interpretation.
Knowledge is certainly transmitted.
But so are preferences.
And habits.
And distinctions.
And forms of attention.
And ways of speaking.
And ways of determining what counts as a serious question.
The young animal does not emerge from the university simply knowing more.
It emerges knowing what sort of thing it is to know.
This observation has led some researchers to propose a revised account of the tertiary environment.
Perhaps the university does not primarily reproduce knowledge.
Perhaps it reproduces ways of noticing.
If this is correct, the implications are considerable.
It would mean that the most important thing the mature animal passes to the juvenile may be neither a fact nor a theory.
It may be a world.
The sun is beginning to set over the tertiary habitat.
The juveniles are leaving the lecture theatres.
The adults are moving towards the cafés.
Across the campus, the first calls of the evening can be heard.
"Have you read the new paper?"
"I thought it was interesting."
"I'm not entirely convinced."
"Perhaps we should set up a working group."
The colony settles.
For now.
Tomorrow, the juveniles will return.
They will watch the adults.
They will listen.
And, without quite knowing it, they will begin to become them.
Next week: Episode II — Imprinting
In which we examine the mysterious process by which a young academic becomes attached to an adult specimen—and why, once established, the bond can prove remarkably difficult to break.
