Purely Academic is a play which according to the programme notes ’discusses both traditional and contemporary challenges for academics‘. On its first outing, to an audience that was probably dominated by those working within higher education, the play follows the career progression of Charles Middleman, from student to established researcher and then to his final fall from grace.

The production had set itself the particular challenge of working with a completely new text by an amateur playwright and a largely amateur cast and production team – no easy task where no key constituent is already tried and tested. The play was performed with the constraints of a space not designed for productions, although the scene changes required simple shifts from one institutional office to another, although this added to the challenges for the actors in not having the variety of environments to work with. The play felt occasionally ponderous moving between scenes which might have been avoided if presented variously in say a corridor, quandrangle, garden, or some other venue helping to keep the audience‘s attention.

Given the audience, the play felt highly self-referential on the night and judging by the tittering and occasional laughter it was more than likely to have been touching some raw nerves along the way. The themes explored however seemed to be much more generic in nature rather than focused purely on science as a discipline, where anyone working in a collaborative framework in a university setting, rather than as a lone researcher would be equally able to relate and respond to the issues covered.

The ’traditional‘ challenges could have been familiar to those present and many working with higher education: the potential for strained relationships between ambitious student and PhD supervisor; the disturbing evidence raised by questions about plagiarism; the institutional dilemmas surrounding errant colleagues and the displacement of the problem to another institution as a symptom of weak human resource management; and finally the uncomfortable knowledge of a colleague‘s relationship with a student.

Trying to isolate what was a more distinctive contemporary challenge was sometimes difficult but the audience were asked to believe that Middleman, in his quest to climb the academic ladder, had found a way of manipulating a citation metric although the details of how were not presented, in contrast to the intricate workings of a grants committee in which Middleman was seen to be blocking his former supervisor‘s progress.

On one hand Middleman was portrayed as a go-getting rational actor in the system, simply playing the system where academic output is reduced to a production line able to be monitored and counted in a modern version of Frederick Taylor‘s scientific management, and where performance is focused on what can be measured easily. This in some way however sat uneasily with the financial impropriety that eventually catches up with him, coming as an anti-climax, given that we had already been given obvious hints that he liked the high-life e.g. he was keen to know if he could fly Club Class whilst a PhD student. Middleman was clearly canny enough to manipulate a citation metric but was apparently so careless or naive not to have given thought as to whether his expense claims would be analysed, suggesting something of a contradiction in his character development within the play. Was Middlemen just a rogue, indolent, or simply not very able, or was he in any way a product of a more marketised, performance-measured, and global system of higher education where loss of collegiality, playing the system, concealed plagiarism and a strong sense of financial entitlement is the result? The audience were probably left to form their own view and struggle with the mixed messages.

The cast, particularly Robert Spencer as Middleman and Colin Burnie as Holywell made determined efforts to develop their characters within the play despite this paradox, occasionally seeming to ham it up at times such as in the revelation that Middleman and Godson had apparently dined in the ’Pleasure Palace‘ Thai restaurant, in a way that perhaps accentuates the ambiguities in the play. With a deliberate change in directing and reworking of the character development, the whole thing felt as though it could easily slide into sitcom humour, no less effective perhaps in exploring the themes. Perhaps the day has finally arrived for a version of Yes, Vice-Chancellor.

This highly portable and thought provoking play far exceeded my expectations when I was fortunate enough to see the opening night performance at LMH. In the portrayal of the academics there were easily recognisable characteristics that I have observed and experienced in various colleagues during my years here in Oxford. However luckily for us, the many negative attributes of the main character, Charles Middleman, are rarely found concentrated all in one person! During the play, Charles transitioned from a grabbing, inconsiderate, and overambitious graduate student with limited intellectual powers to a Professor of the same ilk.

The ethical issues raised by the play are highly pertinent, especially in a climate of reduced research funding and the metric based assessments within the Research Excellence Framework (REF). As a vehicle to instigate discussion on the basic values within research collaborations and across the academic community, I found this play to be highly effective.

Not being a Theatre aficionado, the simple sets and lack of polish on the part of some of the cast did not in any way detract from my engagement with the play or my involvement in the ’plot‘. In fact I am hoping to book it to be performed in a large seminar room as a graduate Research Skills Session. I anticipate that it will stimulate much discussion among the students of the Doctoral Training Centre where I work.

The play tells the story of the rise and demise of your (stereo)typical academic wannabe whose main concern is personal status and power over contribution to knowledge.

The reasons seem be linked to unresolved father-son conflicts and to the desire of the young Middleman to prove himself and to be accepted - and loved, I presume - by his father.

On a less psychoanalytic level, Purely Academic is a story which is not that uncommon in academic circles, though admittedly our hero does possess many annoying traits that you would not normally find in a single individual.

Robert Spencer, who plays Charles Middleman, managed to portray a rather irritating character in a convincing way despite not being a professional actor. Playing the role of Prof. Holywell was Colin Burnie, who added key rhythm and body language to the performance, which helped to keep the audience engaged.

I believe that the message came across clearly, and made people think (or re-think) about the issues that were brought up. This was a sort of experimental event within the programme of an academic conference, and with that in mind I would say that the execution is worthy of praise too.

I enjoyed it.