Mellorism and the University: Why Shared Governance Requires More Than Good Intentions (#766)

The third in a series of essays exploring the progression from preventing harm to actively making things better.

Universities are institutions dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge, the questioning of assumptions, and the advancement of society.

Universities encourage critical thinking, intellectual independence, transparency, and reasoned debate.

Yet universities are not always equally enthusiastic when those same principles are applied to their own governance.

Universities teach students to question authority, examine evidence, challenge assumptions, and demand reasoned explanations.

Universities celebrate these qualities as essential to scholarship and intellectual progress.

But what happens when faculty members apply those same principles to decisions made by their own institutions?

Are their questions welcomed as contributions to institutional improvement, or are they sometimes treated as unwelcome challenges to authority?

In two previous essays on Mellorism, I explored the broader aspects of Mellorism (Part 1) and the evolution of animal welfare thinking from preventing suffering to promoting positive experiences (Part 2).

Mellorism is:

The belief that the world is not perfect, but can be made better through intentional human effort, action, and cooperation.

The same philosophy has important implications for university governance.

Just as freedom from suffering does not necessarily constitute good animal welfare, compliance with institutional procedures does not necessarily constitute good governance.

Good governance is not simply the absence of procedural wrongdoing.

Good governance is the active presence of transparency, accountability, meaningful participation, and mutual trust.

And achieving those qualities requires more than good intentions.

From Animal Welfare to Institutional Welfare

The connection between animal welfare and university governance may initially seem unlikely.

But consider the underlying principle.

For decades, animal welfare was assessed largely by identifying and minimizing negative experiences.

If an animal was adequately fed, sheltered, healthy, and protected from suffering, its welfare was often considered satisfactory.

David Mellor challenged this limited perspective.

Mellor argued that preventing negative experiences was necessary but insufficient.

Good animal welfare also required opportunities for positive experiences.

Animals should not merely survive.

They should have opportunities to thrive.

The distinction between preventing harm and actively promoting well-being is equally relevant to human institutions.

A university may comply with its bylaws, follow prescribed procedures, obtain required approvals, and satisfy administrative requirements.

But does that necessarily mean its governance is good?

Not if faculty members are excluded from meaningful deliberation.

Not if consequential decisions are effectively settled before consultation occurs.

Not if reasonable questions remain unanswered.

And not if transparency is promised in principle but restricted in practice.

An institution may be procedurally compliant while remaining deficient in the very qualities that make shared governance meaningful.

The lesson from animal welfare is straightforward:

Meeting minimum requirements is not the same as achieving the best possible outcome.

The same is true of universities.

The Difference Between Procedural Compliance and Good Governance

Procedures are essential to institutional governance.

They establish responsibilities, define authority, regulate decision-making, and provide mechanisms for accountability.

Without procedures, governance becomes arbitrary.

But procedures are tools, not ends in themselves.

Their purpose is to support good decisions, protect institutional integrity, and ensure that those affected by decisions have appropriate opportunities to participate.

A university that regards procedural compliance as the final measure of good governance risks confusing the mechanism with the objective.

Consider a consequential institutional decision that technically satisfies all applicable approval requirements.

Perhaps a committee was consulted. Perhaps a vote was recorded. Perhaps the appropriate administrative officers signed the necessary documents.

These facts may establish that the required steps occurred.

But they do not necessarily establish that the committee received adequate information, that alternatives were seriously considered, that stakeholders had meaningful opportunities to contribute, or that the implications of the decision were thoroughly examined.

Those are different questions.

And they matter.

A decision can be procedurally valid without necessarily representing the best practice of shared governance.

Mellorism encourages us to recognize this distinction.

The objective should not be merely to demonstrate that the rules were followed.

The objective should be to ask whether the process served its intended purpose and, where necessary, how it might be improved.

Shared Governance Is More Than Consultation

Shared governance is a defining principle of American higher education.

It recognizes that universities are not conventional corporations and that academic decisions benefit from the knowledge, experience, and participation of the faculty.

Administrators, governing boards, and faculty have different responsibilities, but those responsibilities are intended to be complementary.

The American Association of University Professors' 1966 Statement on Government of Colleges and Universities emphasizes the importance of shared responsibility and communication among the principal participants in institutional governance.

Importantly, shared governance does not mean that every decision must be made by consensus or that faculty members possess authority over every institutional matter.

It does mean that participation should be appropriate to the significance and academic implications of the decision.

Consultation should be meaningful rather than ceremonial.

A committee's involvement should not simply provide evidence that a procedural requirement has been satisfied.

It should provide an opportunity for informed deliberation.

Faculty representatives should be able to ask questions, examine relevant information, consider alternatives, and communicate concerns.

And those concerns should receive substantive consideration.

A committee that is consulted only after the essential terms of a decision have been established may have little opportunity to influence the outcome.

The distinction is important.

Being informed of a decision is not the same as participating in making it.

Nor is being asked to approve a predetermined outcome necessarily equivalent to meaningful shared governance.

Transparency Is an Institutional Responsibility

Universities frequently proclaim their commitment to transparency.

The word appears in strategic plans, leadership statements, governance documents, and institutional values.

But transparency is not established simply by declaring it.

It must be demonstrated through actions.

When consequential decisions are made, those affected should ordinarily be able to understand what was decided, why it was decided, who participated, and what considerations influenced the outcome, subject to legitimate confidentiality obligations.

This is especially important when decisions have long-term consequences for institutional identity, academic priorities, finances, or governance.

Confidentiality sometimes serves legitimate purposes.

Universities must protect personal information, privileged communications, sensitive negotiations, and other matters where disclosure would cause genuine harm.

But confidentiality should not become a convenient substitute for accountability.

Nor should the existence of confidential deliberations automatically prevent an institution from explaining the reasoning behind its decisions.

Transparency does not require every conversation to be public.

It requires an appropriate level of openness sufficient to sustain informed participation and institutional trust.

And trust is difficult to maintain when reasonable questions are repeatedly met with procedural assurances rather than substantive answers.

The Responsibility of Faculty Representatives

Faculty executive committees, academic senates, and other representative bodies occupy a particularly important position within university governance.

Their members are entrusted with responsibilities that extend beyond attending meetings and recording votes.

They represent the interests and perspectives of their colleagues within the framework of their institutional duties.

That representation carries obligations.

Faculty representatives should seek sufficient information to understand the matters before them.

Faculty representatives should consider the implications of proposed decisions, ask difficult questions when necessary, and communicate appropriately with those they represent.

They should also be willing to explain their actions and reasoning, within legitimate limits of confidentiality.

Representation does not end when a committee reaches a decision.

Nor does a committee's declaration that a matter is concluded necessarily resolve the questions of those it represents.

Indeed, the willingness to engage with questions after a decision may be one of the clearest demonstrations of representative accountability.

A faculty member who asks for an explanation is not necessarily challenging the legitimacy of a committee.

That faculty member may simply be asking the committee to fulfill its representative responsibilities.

Shared governance is not a privilege exercised occasionally.

Shared governance is an ongoing responsibility.

When Philanthropy Tests Shared Governance

One area in which these principles become especially important is university philanthropy.

Private donations can transform academic institutions.

They can support scholarships, research, clinical facilities, educational programs, and opportunities that might otherwise remain beyond reach.

Universities have good reason to welcome philanthropy.

But major gifts may also involve conditions.

These can include naming rights, construction commitments, spending restrictions, implementation deadlines, advisory arrangements, and other obligations that influence institutional priorities.

Some conditions may be entirely reasonable and beneficial.

Others may raise questions about academic autonomy, financial responsibility, institutional identity, or the appropriate role of faculty consultation.

The challenge is not simply whether a donation is generous or desirable.

It is whether the conditions attached to that donation are consistent with the institution's long-term interests and governance responsibilities.

At UC Davis, the renaming of the School of Veterinary Medicine in connection with a major philanthropic gift has raised questions about the extent and timing of faculty consultation, the information available to faculty representatives, and the relationship between formal approval and meaningful deliberation.

These questions are not necessarily evidence of procedural wrongdoing.

They are questions about the quality of governance.

Was the faculty given a meaningful opportunity to consider the implications of the proposed name change?

Were the broader conditions associated with the gift adequately examined?

Were alternative approaches considered?

And were the interests of the academic community sufficiently represented in the decision-making process?

Such questions deserve substantive answers, irrespective of whether every procedural requirement was satisfied.

A frequently anticipated response to concerns of this kind is that more extensive consultation might have jeopardized the donation.

That possibility deserves consideration.

But it does not automatically resolve the governance question.

If the conditions or timing of a gift make meaningful consultation difficult, that difficulty should itself be recognized and examined.

Financial opportunity and shared governance need not be regarded as mutually exclusive values.

Indeed, a strong university should strive to protect both.

The generosity of a donation does not diminish the importance of the process by which its conditions are accepted.

Constructive Criticism Is Not Institutional Disloyalty

One of the more troubling tendencies within large institutions is the occasional perception that persistent questioning represents disloyalty.

A faculty member who challenges a decision may be characterized as obstructive, unreasonable, or unwilling to move forward.

But universities exist precisely because questioning established assumptions is essential to progress.

Scientific knowledge advances when evidence is examined critically.

Clinical practice improves when established methods are challenged.

Educational programs evolve when deficiencies are identified and corrected.

Why should institutional governance be exempt from the same intellectual discipline?

There is, of course, an important distinction between constructive criticism and criticism intended merely to discredit.

Constructive criticism seeks explanations, identifies shortcomings, proposes improvements, and remains open to evidence.

It does not require agreement.

Nor does it require that every criticism be accepted.

But it does require engagement.

A university that welcomes critical inquiry in its classrooms and laboratories should be equally willing to engage with reasoned questions about its own decisions.

Institutional loyalty should not be confused with unquestioning acceptance.

Indeed, some of the most committed members of an academic community may be those who are unwilling to ignore perceived shortcomings.

Their persistence may reflect not hostility toward the institution, but confidence that it can do better.

Mellorism: From Identifying Problems to Improving Institutions

This brings us back to Mellorism.

Mellorism begins with a simple recognition:

The world is imperfect.

But imperfection is not a reason for resignation.

It is an invitation to constructive action.

The philosophy rejects the assumption that avoiding harm or satisfying minimum expectations is necessarily sufficient.

Instead, it emphasizes the possibility of improvement through intentional human effort, action, and cooperation.

Applied to university governance, Mellorism suggests that recognizing shortcomings is only the first step.

The next step is to do something about them.

That may involve asking questions, reviewing procedures, improving communication, strengthening faculty participation, clarifying responsibilities, or reconsidering established practices.

Importantly, Mellorism does not require the assumption that administrators are acting in bad faith or that existing governance structures are fundamentally defective.

It recognizes that well-intentioned people working within established systems can nevertheless produce imperfect outcomes.

The appropriate response is not necessarily confrontation.

It is a commitment to improvement.

That commitment must be shared.

Faculty members have responsibilities to participate thoughtfully and constructively.

Administrators have responsibilities to communicate openly and respect the principles of shared governance.

Representative committees have responsibilities to engage meaningfully with their constituencies.

And institutional leaders have responsibilities to create an environment in which questioning is welcomed rather than discouraged.

No single participant can create good governance alone.

It requires cooperation.

The Difference Between Closing a Matter and Resolving It

There is an important distinction between declaring a matter closed and actually resolving it.

An administrative body may conclude that all required procedures have been completed.

It may regard its responsibilities as fulfilled.

It may wish to move on to other business.

But if substantive questions remain unanswered, procedural closure may not produce genuine resolution.

The underlying concerns may persist.

Trust may remain diminished.

And the opportunity to learn from the experience may be lost.

Mellorism offers a different perspective.

Rather than asking how quickly a difficult matter can be concluded, it encourages us to ask what can be learned and improved.

Were the procedures adequate?

Did they produce meaningful participation?

Was sufficient information available?

Were the responsibilities of representative bodies clear?

Could future decisions be handled more transparently or inclusively?

These questions do not require reopening every completed decision.

They require a willingness to examine whether existing practices serve the institution as well as they should.

Sometimes the most valuable outcome of a controversy is not a reversal of the original decision.

It is an improvement in the process by which future decisions will be made.

That is constructive institutional change.

The University as a Community

Universities are more than administrative structures.

They are communities of scholars, students, staff, alumni, and others who share a commitment to education, research, discovery, and public service.

Their strength depends not only on financial resources, buildings, rankings, or philanthropic support, but also on the quality of relationships among the people who sustain them.

Trust, mutual respect, openness, and meaningful participation are not peripheral institutional virtues.

They are essential to a healthy academic community.

When these qualities weaken, governance can become increasingly procedural, defensive, and hierarchical.

When they are cultivated, disagreement can become a source of learning rather than division.

Mellorism suggests that a healthy institution should not simply avoid obvious failures.

It should actively create conditions in which its members can contribute, participate, and flourish.

The parallel with animal welfare is not that animals and universities are equivalent, but that the distinction between preventing negative outcomes and actively promoting positive ones can illuminate both.

A university should aspire to more than the absence of administrative misconduct.

It should aspire to a culture of genuine intellectual openness, shared responsibility, and continuous improvement.

Good Governance Is Never Finished

No university will ever achieve perfect governance.

Decisions will sometimes be made under pressure.

Competing priorities will create difficult choices.

Confidentiality will sometimes limit disclosure.

Faculty members and administrators will disagree.

Mistakes will occur.

Mellorism does not deny these realities.

Mellorism accepts imperfection while insisting that improvement remains possible.

Good governance is therefore not a final condition that an institution achieves and then permanently possesses.

It is an ongoing process.

It requires vigilance, humility, communication, and a willingness to reconsider established practices.

Above all, it requires action.

Statements of principle are valuable, but they are not substitutes for behavior.

A university demonstrates its commitment to shared governance not through the frequency with which it invokes the term, but through the opportunities it provides for meaningful participation.

It demonstrates transparency not through declarations, but through its willingness to explain decisions.

And it demonstrates accountability not merely by establishing procedures, but by responding seriously to legitimate questions about how those procedures were used.

Conclusion: Making Our Universities Better

The three essays in this series share a common principle.

In animal welfare, we have learned that preventing suffering is not enough.

We must also create opportunities for animals to experience positive and rewarding lives.

In Mellorism, we recognize that identifying the world's imperfections is not enough.

We must act intentionally and cooperatively to make things better.

And in university governance, we should recognize that following procedures is not enough.

We must actively cultivate transparency, accountability, trust, and meaningful shared governance.

These ideas are connected by a fundamental distinction between avoiding what is wrong and actively pursuing what is right.

A university may satisfy its formal obligations without fully realizing its institutional ideals.

That should not be a source of embarrassment.

It should be an opportunity for improvement.

After all, universities are institutions devoted to learning.

Surely, they should be capable of learning from their own experiences.

And surely those who question institutional decisions, seek explanations, and advocate for better governance should be regarded not as adversaries, but as participants in that learning process.

We should not confuse meeting minimum expectations with fulfilling our highest responsibilities.

Mellorism does not promise perfection.

It asks something more practical, and perhaps more demanding:

That we recognize where improvement is possible.

That we accept responsibility for pursuing it.

And that we work together to make our institutions better than they are today.

That is Mellorism in action.

References

American Association of University Professors. (1966). Statement on Government of Colleges and Universities. Jointly formulated by the AAUP, American Council on Education, and Association of Governing Boards of Universities and Colleges. https://www.aaup.org/reports-publications/aaup-policies-reports/topical-reports/statement-government-colleges-and

Emeritus Professor David Mellor. Animal welfare pioneer. https://www.une.edu.au/alumni/meet-our-alumni/people/emeritus-professor-david-mellor

Mellor, D. J. (2016). Updating animal welfare thinking: Moving beyond the “Five Freedoms” towards “A Life Worth Living.” Animals, 6(3), 21. https://www.mdpi.com/2076-2615/6/3/21

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