The Hurdles of Bureaucracy

by Dr Raymond Perrier · May 30, 2024

Archbishop Denis Hurley, as chancellor of the University of Natal (now UKZN), bestowed an honorary doctorate in the mid-1990s on future President Cyril Ramaphosa for his work in the Codesa negotiations. At left is vice-chancellor Brenda Gourlay.

Newspapers and online newsfeeds over the past few weeks have been rightly filled with joyous photographs and stories of people graduating from universities across the country. When there is so much bad news around, it is wonderful to see such good news.

Many of the tales recount great perseverance, resilience and determination against all odds. Some of these are young people — very fitting during Youth Month. And many are inspirational mature people who have gone back to education after a long break.

The fact that so many people are the first university graduates in their families is a timely reminder that the process of transformation is still ongoing and that education plays a key role in this.

Despite all the challenges they face, we are blessed in South Africa to have not only a good number of old traditional universities, but also the newer ‘technical’ universities, historically “African” or “Coloured” or “Indian” institutions, and an increasing range of private tertiary institutions. All of these are making it possible for people to grow intellectually, to develop skills that will make them more employable, and be able to contribute to wider society.

When he received an honorary doctorate from the University of KwaZulu-Natal (UKZN) in 2009, my mentor Paddy Kearney, a man who started his professional life as a university lecturer, said: “Take this degree as something that belongs to the community. Be someone who can guide or coach a local boy or girl so that they can achieve the same as you. This is not just for you but all those behind you.”

Graduation missed

I know so much about Paddy because I wrote my PhD thesis about him. The thesis was submitted to UKZN in November 2022 and eventually in June 2023 I received notice that the thesis, subject to final corrections, would be accepted. The corrections were done and the degree completed. But my photo did not appear among those who were capped last September nor among those being capped in the last few weeks. That is because I was not there. In fact, I was among many graduates who were not there.

Doctorates (or indeed any degree) are not light pieces of work. It took me about four years to complete my doctorate, and it took the university seven months to examine it. But I was informed of the date of graduation precisely 16 days in advance. With so little notice, I was not able to be free on that date. My diary is busy, and this is probably true of many other doctoral students who, like me, are often studying while working.

What is more, UKZN prides itself on drawing in postgraduate students from across the continent. But 16 days is hardly enough notice to organise affordable transport from other parts of Africa. And what if you want to bring an elderly parent to witness the recognition of this momentous academic achievement?

I assumed that, once I explained this, UKZN would simply let me know the dates of one or two future scheduled graduation ceremonies and I could choose one and make sure that I was free. That is the system used by the three previous universities from which I have received degrees. But it appears for the administration of UKZN, that is too much work. They wrote to me effusively: “This is a significant achievement representing years of hard work and effort on your part, and is a cause for celebration for all of us.” Indeed — but evidently not enough cause for them to provide a simple administrative mechanism to let a doctoral student choose a graduation date.

The mark of a good organisation is not that it never makes mistakes but that it admits when it does, and then learns from them. I suggested that invite me, and other PhDs who had missed out, to one of the recent graduations this year. They refused.

Difficult, slow, unhelpful

To be honest, I was not surprised. Almost all of my dealings with admin functions at UKZN (and, to be fair, at most other universities as well) have been difficult, slow and unhelpful. At one stage, the university delayed my registration because I had not uploaded onto their byzantine computer system a letter which they had sent me in the first place and therefore already had on file! And I discover that, since I went public about my frustrations, they are shared by almost every undergraduate, postgraduate, academic and researcher I have spoken to.

We are used to such uncaring bureaucracy in government where we do not have the option to go elsewhere. But the reality is that tertiary education is a highly competitive world and the best students and academics will not just keep silent. They will vote with their feet, and more and more are doing so. This should be reason enough for any institutions to improve their administrative systems so that they can compete with better-run universities.

Of course, they should do so because it is human beings who are at the heart of any educational institution. Systems need to be designed so they are for the benefit of those whom they serve, and not just to make life easy for the administrators. There will, I am sure, be Catholics among those university administrators who want to try hard and serve others but are thwarted by the systems in place. If so, you have a unique opportunity: the fight for justice and changing systems is not just something we can do in a Justice & Peace meeting; it starts in the places where we work.

Archbishop Denis Hurley, who was the chancellor who oversaw the transition from the University of Natal to UKZN, would often see his role to be “a voice for the voiceless”; to speak up for people who did not feel empowered to speak for themselves. At the Denis Hurley Centre in Durban we often have to do that for homeless people and refugees in the face of uncaring government officials.

But it is deeply sad that so many students and academics that I have spoken to at UKZN feel they also cannot speak out against unbending bureaucracy for fear of repercussions. I hope therefore you will allow me to use this platform to speak out: not for myself but rather on behalf of all those who suffer at the hands of administrators who are unwilling or unable to help the people whom they are actually employed to serve.

Our universities are shaping the leaders of the future, and their administrators have a choice: they can show a model of servant leadership that will inspire future generations; or they can reinforce the view that once you have a comfortable job, all that matters is doing the bare minimum and you will never be confronted with the consequences.

Dr Raymond Perrier is the director of the Denis Hurley Centre. He writes in a personal capacity.

Published in the June 2024 issue of The Southern Cross magazine