Kenneth Westhues, 2006
The single best way to understand academic mobbing is to study many different cases of it, thereby to grasp the core reality amidst its many different expressions, details, and circumstances.
The single best way to understand academic mobbing is to study many different cases of it, thereby to grasp the core reality amidst its many different expressions, details, and circumstances.
Documentation on many such cases is available online
(some recent ones here, for example), in my five
books on this subject, on many other websites and in many other books.
A complementary way to understand academic mobbing
is to study instances of professors being punished or losing their jobs that
do not qualify as mobbing cases. One learns to recognize this organizational
pathology the same way one does a poisonous plant: by inspecting not only varied
specimens in varied locales but also a variety of nonpoisonous look-alikes.
One way to grasp what academic mobbing is is to study examples of what
it is not.
Below are four examples of professorial elimination
that do not quite capture what academic mobbing means, though they resemble
it in some respects. I hope to add further examples to this webpage in coming
months — toward the end of bringing the subject of study into still sharper
focus.
(1) Valery Fabrikant's loss of his job
at Concordia University in 1992, and his imprisonment for life. There
is a great deal of evidence, especially in the 1994 report by Harry Arthurs
et al (summarized in the perceptive article
by Morris Wolfe), of a process of administrative mobbing targeting Fabrikant
in the late 1980s and early 1990s. It is not far-fetched to understand his shooting
spree in August of 1992, resulting in the deaths of four colleagues, as having
been precipitated by many years of ill-treatment, harassment, shunning, and
humiliation. Yet once Fabrikant had lashed back at his tormentors in murderous
rage, there was nothing to do but lock him away. His being convicted of murder
and imprisoned on that account does not deny his talent as an engineer or professor,
nor should it be seen as retrospective justification of the earlier ill-treatment
of him. But no fanatic ganging up at all is implied by the elimination not just
from the university but from a free society of a man who has committed multiple
murders. (For further discussion of the Fabrikant case, see Eliminating
Professors, Chapter 10.)
(2) The firing of Lana Nguyen at the
University of Regina in 2001. The Regina administration was prepared
to let Nguyen resign quietly (a common indicator of non-mobbing) until news
of her offense was leaked to the press. Only then did it commission the public
inquiry by Stuart McKinnon and Constance Rooke, which laid out the facts of
the case in detail. Essentially, Nguyen was an imposter. Holding only an undergraduate
degree, she had laid claim to the PhD earned by her ex-husband and used it to
land a position on Regina's engineering faculty. Students had protested en
masse against her teaching. Her lawyer argued that male faculty, administrators,
and/or students had ganged up on her. There may or may not have been some truth
in that allegation, but the fact remains that she committed a clear offense,
major falsification of credentials, and was not at all qualified to teach in
an engineering faculty. Ganged up on or not, she deserved to lose her job. (For
further discussion of the Nguyen case, see The Envy of
Excellence, pp. 210, 228.)
(3) Eric Poehlman's resignation from
the Universities of Vermont in 2001 and of Montreal in 2005. According
to a press
release in 2005, from the United States Department of Health and Human Services,
Poehlman admitted that he falsified and fabricated data in articles and grant
applications about his medical research. A student working with him had discovered
the fraud and reported it to university authorities. While under investigation
at Vermont in 2001, Poehlman moved to an endowed chair at Montreal. Investigations
continued by both the University of Vermont and the U.S. government, which had
funded his research. As investigators unearthed ever more conclusive evidence
of his fraud and as criminal charges came to be laid, Poehlman decided to admit
guilt and settle with the U.S. government. He resigned
from the University of Montreal in January of 2005. This case appears from
press reports as one involving a clear, academically fatal offense by a professor
highly regarded by administrators and colleagues at both Vermont and Montreal.
It does not at all appear to qualify as a mobbing case.
(4) The dismissal of history professor
Leo Johnson from the University of Waterloo in 1983. Having worked
with Johnson and read some of his work, I can personally attest to his talent
and assiduity as an historian and teacher. Being a Marxist, he was not popular
with the Waterloo administration, and he had never completed his Ph.D., but
he survived on the faculty well enough until 1982, when he was charged and then
pled guilty to nine counts of indecently assaulting young girls, and one count
of having sexual intercourse with a girl under 14 years of age. He was sentenced
to two years in prison. The university faced the choice of granting him unpaid
leave to serve his prison term or firing him. Following the policy and procedures
then in place, the university chose the latter. Then and now, I believe this
was the right decision. Criminal conviction should not automatically result
in a professor's dismissal. It depends on the crime. Sexual predation on children
seems to me, as to most people, an offense more than serious enough to warrant
elimination from a university position. (For further discussion of the Johnson
case, see The Envy of Excellence, p. 36.)