The Hollowed-Out University: A Tenured Professor’s Concerns Echoed in Papal Encyclical
A tenured professor at a prominent Canadian U15 university has articulated growing concerns about the "hollowing out" of academic life, a sentiment she finds powerfully reflected in Pope Leo XIV’s recent encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas. The professor, who holds three fully funded graduate degrees in anthropology and has dedicated her career to research responsive to global health needs, describes a pervasive sense of constraint and a system increasingly driven by neoliberal values that stifle creativity, reflection, and genuine human connection.
The professor, who prefers to remain anonymous for this report but whose academic standing is confirmed, stated that while her career has been profoundly rewarding, offering opportunities for deep friendships, intellectual discovery, and travel, the current academic environment feels increasingly "grey and flat." She observes a significant lack of "breathing room" for creative pursuits, contemplative thought, and meaningful engagement with students, colleagues, community, and family. This perceived diminishment, she argues, is directly linked to an academic system structured around principles of optimized efficiency, individual responsibility for well-being, and normalized competitiveness.
This critical assessment of the contemporary university landscape finds a surprising echo in Magnifica Humanitas, issued by Pope Leo XIV. The encyclical, released on May 15, 2026, addresses the pervasive risks of dehumanization in modern society, with particular relevance to the priorities and pressures within higher education. The Pope’s articulation of these trends, drawing on the work of his predecessor Pope Francis, provides a theological and philosophical framework for understanding the systemic issues impacting academic institutions.
The Pervasive "Technocratic Paradigm" in Academia
Pope Leo XIV, in Magnifica Humanitas, identifies a significant threat posed by the "technocratic paradigm," a framework where "the logic of efficiency, control and profit alone" dictates what holds value and what can be disregarded. The professor argues that this logic has permeated nearly every facet of university operations. She observes that scholarship is increasingly defined and valued based on its potential for monetization or its ability to enhance institutional rankings. Conversely, intellectual labor that is inherently relational, slow-paced, pedagogical, collaborative, or community-engaged often faces significant challenges in performance evaluations.
"As academics," the professor stated, "especially in institutions funded by the public whom they serve, we are expected to ask what knowledge is for and whom it serves. But this message is at odds with my experience, in which the work that is encouraged and rewarded is that which has resulted, or will result, in dollars for the university."
This emphasis on quantifiable outcomes and financial returns creates a relentless pressure for ever-increasing productivity, prestige, and grant acquisition. Even for tenured faculty, the professor noted, there is a pervasive anxiety about proving one’s worth, measured almost exclusively by grant funding secured and the volume of peer-reviewed publications and presentations. This environment fosters a state of "near-permanent acceleration" for many academics, who juggle demanding teaching loads, administrative tasks often absorbed from professional staff, and the constant demands of grant applications and reporting requirements.
The professorial role, once envisioned as fostering deep engagement and collegiality, is increasingly strained by these demands. The professor elaborated, "The language of collegiality and community persists, but conditions for collegial life are few when you are working 50 to 60 hours a week." The pursuit of "excellence" under these conditions often translates to outperforming equally overworked colleagues, leading to a compromise in creativity, intellectual risk-taking, reflective practice, and essential rest. These compromises, she warns, inevitably have downstream consequences for the quality of education delivered to students.
The Culture of Immediacy and its Impact on Learning
Pope Leo XIV’s encyclical also critiques "a culture of immediacy and hyper-stimulation, which gives rise to fatigue, boredom and apathy." This cultural phenomenon, the Pope argues, erodes the very conditions necessary for deep reflection and meaningful learning. The professor concurred, highlighting her commitment to providing students with "transformational education" that fosters intellectual growth and the development of critical social citizenship.
When professors are free to pursue research that genuinely excites them or aligns with their core values, they are energized and passionate, inspiring students to see the value in deep inquiry and learning. However, when academics are compelled to prioritize fundable research or produce outputs they do not personally value, their energy wanes. This can lead to a sense of inauthenticity, alienation, and a erosion of trust in the university’s leadership and culture.
"After all, what is our work as academics about?" the professor questioned. "Discovery and advancing knowledge, a respect for one another and diverse ideas, or pushing up our rankings?" She recounted how colleagues frequently question university leadership about how they can uphold commitments to quality education amidst escalating class sizes, diminished teaching assistant support, reduced staffing, and pervasive fatigue stemming from intensified productivity and reporting norms. These concerns are typically met with managerial platitudes about "hard realities" and "strategic priorities." The professor posed a critical question: "What are we doing when professors are getting the message that the quality of education is not a priority?"
"Disarming AI" and the University’s Competitive Logic
A particularly resonant passage in Magnifica Humanitas is Pope Leo XIV’s call to "disarm" Artificial Intelligence. He defines this as freeing AI from an "armed" competition mentality that extends beyond the military to economic and cognitive spheres. This involves a race for increasingly powerful algorithms and vast datasets, driven by the pursuit of geopolitical or commercial dominance. The Pope emphasizes that disarming AI means discrediting the assumption that technical power inherently confers the right to govern and, crucially, preventing technology from dominating humanity.
The professor sees a direct parallel between this concept and the prevailing competitive logic within Canadian universities. She observes a fierce competition for funding, rankings, prestige, student enrollments, and institutional survival. This stands in stark contrast to the belief held by many academics that knowledge is a collective and public good, requiring dialogue, debate, relationships, and time.
"We believe," the professor stated, "that scholarship is linked to preserving humanity, attending to injustices and deepening understanding of these and diverse ways of being, thinking and acting. This is about peace, not war." She posits that "disarming" the university, much like disarming AI, does not entail abandoning ambitious scholarship or thought leadership. Instead, it means rejecting the notion that human worth is reducible to measurable productivity, that education’s primary purpose is economic benefit, or that life thrives on perpetual competition and rigid hierarchies.
Addressing Dehumanization Requires Action
Pope Leo XIV’s encyclical, though not explicitly addressing university professors, offers profound insights into the challenges facing academia. The professor argues that allowing corporate norms to dictate university governance is detrimental to humanity’s interests. Avoiding dehumanization, she contends, necessitates deliberate action and intentionality.
The Pope, as the head of the Catholic Church, also embodies a message of resilience and engagement that is relevant to those who might be tempted to despair of the university’s potential to serve the collective good. His message is clear: "Do not give up on the old institutions, and do not be afraid to rock the boat."
The professor concludes by emphasizing that the prevailing logics of extraction, speed, manufactured scarcity, and competition are not immutable forces of nature. Universities in Canada, she points out, are not organized according to natural law but are the product of human decisions. Therefore, they can be reorganized around different values and norms – specifically, mutual care, solidarity, democratic governance, and a profound respect for humanity. The initial step, she suggests, is to guard against one’s own "hollowing out," by asking the fundamental questions posed by the Pope: "Where are we going? Toward what goal do we wish to orient ourselves? What direction should we choose as a people and as a human community?"
The implications of this internal critique, amplified by the pronouncements of a global religious leader, suggest a growing groundswell of dissatisfaction within academia. The pressure to perform under neoliberal metrics, coupled with the erosion of space for humanistic inquiry and pedagogical innovation, risks fundamentally altering the nature and purpose of higher education. The challenge lies in translating this critique into tangible reforms that prioritize human flourishing and the public good over relentless optimization and competition.
