So here is a fun German word to drop in random conversation: Die “eierlegende Wollmilchsau”1.
Eierlegende Wollmilchsau directly translates to egg-laying, milk-producing, woolly sow. While I would like to claim it is a German cryptid, simply because we don’t have enough of those2, it is more of an idiom describing the ultimate livestock. The one animal that can do everything: give you eggs and bacon, milk, wool, and even more of itself.
I occasionally come to think of the eierlegende Wollmichsau when I think about academic work.
As academics our work is broad: We are researchers, teachers, and administrators. We research, publish papers, and bring in money. We have to create, teach and maintain courses, as well as care for our students. We have to deal with university politics, forms, regulations, and manage our research groups.
All of this takes a myriad of skills we have to learn and maintain. We have to know how to write engaging texts, utilize complex maths, do copy editing and type setting3; often not in our native language. We have to be engaging speakers in person and since the pandemic on video/audio as well. Video and audio we probably also have to script, film, and produce ourselves. We have to know our way around several IT systems, and probably know some coding as well. We have to know and know how to follow data protection laws. All the while we have to find time to perform research community service and network.
I feel a kinship with the Eierlegende Wollmichsau…
…and I am still early in my career that I only got a taste of true overextension.
An important part of the idiom is that the eierlegende Wollmilchsau may be perfect, but non-existent. Those who search for, or try to breed it, are trying to do the impossble. Likewise, while many academics are great at several things, academia is asking the impossible when it asks us to be and do everything. The consequence of which can only be that we are worse at our jobs. Of course, there is help. From university support staff^[who in my experience have a solid 50:50 ration of hindering and helping.] and from colleagues who can complement our expertise. We also do not have to become experts in each and every task. No one is gonna complain when a CHI video presentation is half-assed. No one except ourselves, of course.
Still, at least I strive to be proficient at everything myself. Part of it is certainly my ADD relishing the opportunity to do something else – part of it is collaborations (at least those I spearhead) being rather time consuming.
I do not have a solution to this. I am also under no illusion that I am saying anything new here.
From what I have seen so far, the only thing academics seem to universally agree on is that they have too much on their plate. Which makes me wonder, why we seemingly can’t do anything about it.
Little P.S:
Looking at the Wikipedia page for the eierlegende Wollmilchsau, I am tickled that at least one person has used it in regards to academia before: In a Spiegel article from 1969, the phcisist Gerhard Grau likened the habit of training students for both academia and buisness to the attempt of breeding eierlegende Wollmilchsäue.
Footnotes
Well, technically two words, but who’s counting?↩︎
Like the famous and fun to say Wolpertinger↩︎
Two things that used to be done by the journals, afaik. Our unpaid labor is decidedly cheaper though.↩︎