Halfway through a Zoom meeting, the chair has to fall silent: the glass pod roof above him opens automatically, and he mustn¡¯t disturb those working in the surrounding open space.

This is not a co-working hub, but the new mathematics building of a modern UK university. Personal offices have been replaced by open spaces, in a decision that caught staff by surprise. Daily academic life depends on impromptu discussions with students, postdocs and peers ¨C yet academics were consulted only after the fact, when nothing could be changed.

Ask a university vice-chancellor what the institution¡¯s mission is and you will hear noble words about excellence in teaching and research. Ask which courses inspire students, or what research breakthroughs are under way, and they will falter. You may have better luck if you ask about student numbers, debt and cash flow.

This is because universities are not companies, and their leaders do not play a direct role in fulfilling the academic mission. Their role is twofold: to ensure the financial solvency of the institution, and to create the conditions in which academic staff and students can pursue excellence. Both are essential. Without solvency, a university cannot function at all. But without its scholars, there is no mission. There isn¡¯t even a university.

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Right now, while UK universities are focused on financial survival, they are neglecting their equally vital role of supporting academic excellence. A large part of the problem lies in the breakdown of constructive communication between leadership and those on the ground. Many academics perceive university leaders as corporate-style managers with generous salaries and little to offer scholarly life. Leaders, for their part, often regard academics as prone to complaints and unwilling to face the hard truth that universities cannot run on inspiration alone. They require money, and lots of it.

This mutual mistrust has consequences. It entrenches bureaucracy, widens the gulf between strategy and practice, and leaves academics feeling governed rather than supported. The leadership in turn doubles down on bureaucracy and administration, because these are the branches of the university that are easily managed. The administration, in turn, answers to the leadership instead of serving to support the research and teaching endeavours, further widening the gulf between leadership and the mission.

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This overemphasis on finance and control manifests in countless small but telling ways. Hiring and promotion, once centred on academic excellence, are increasingly driven by bureaucratic checklists. Many universities have banned recommendation letters on the grounds that they introduce bias, eliminating one of the few tools we have to recognise talent. At the same time, hiring committees must complete sprawling HR checklists that rank candidates according to criteria devised without any academic consultation. For now, many departments quietly work around these restrictions to preserve high standards. But it is only a matter of time before administrations double down on the rules.?

Layers of bureaucracy and pointless requirements ¨C from condescending courses on how to adjust an office chair, to inefficient and expensive grant-tracking systems, to visitor contracts generating endless email chains ¨C frustrate and demean staff while effectively harming efficiency and productivity. Daily operations, such as booking hotels for guest lecturers, which should be streamlined by administrators, are increasingly pushed on to academics themselves. Undertaking a scientific trip, which could be as simple as booking tickets and getting reimbursed, must go through mandated travel agents with limited travel options, often causing delays or even cancelled trips.

Even Oxbridge, where academics have notably more control, has not been immune to some changes. ¡°I now buy my own travel insurance because it¡¯s not worth spending an hour each time working through the patronising system that has been put in place,¡± a senior person there said. Not only do these decisions make it harder for staff to do their jobs and deepen mistrust, they also undermine the very cost-saving ambitions of the university.

Things may get worse still. The Research Excellence Framework (REF) ¨C the national system for ranking universities by research quality ¨C is revising its assessment criteria. At present, ¡°contribution to knowledge and understanding¡±, the core of research, carries a weight of 60 per cent. From 2029 it will count for only 50 per cent, with the difference transferred to a new category of ¡°People, Culture and Environment¡±. If research itself now accounts for only half the score, we are in danger of redefining the very essence of academia ¨C and we do so at our own peril.

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However, things are far from hopeless. Change could come quickly if the right incentives were put in place. University leaders should step back from micromanaging academics and allow greater flexibility ¨C a shift that would better support the staff, reduce bureaucracy and lower costs. They should also reward genuine academic output, while diminishing the weight of token statements and symbolic roles. For their part, academics should better appreciate the financial challenges facing universities.

Greater transparency, accountability and regular, substantive dialogue between scholars and leaders would help bridge the current gulf ¨C and begin to restore universities to their true mission.

Tin Sulejmanpasic is associate professor at Durham University¡¯s department of mathematical sciences.