Everything is social impact

But should it be?

This is the first post in a three-part series on the future of the university. Consider a paid subscription to read all three posts in full.

Almost every university appointment in South Africa now includes a question about the candidate’s social impact.

Promotion guidelines list it alongside research and teaching. Universities have social impact committees, social impact registers, and vice-deans and vice-rectors for social impact who all produce social impact reports. Apply for a European research grant, and up to a quarter of your application may be judged on its social impact.

This shift reflects growing pressure on universities to prove their relevance. The old accusation lingers: universities have become ivory towers, remote from the realities of everyday life, disconnected from the people who fund them. And like any other item on the national budget, they are expected to show their worth: in PowerPoint slides or, preferably, in colourful annual reports sent to Parliament.

When the benefits of research and teaching are difficult to trace, social impact offers an attractive alternative. It is visible. It is quantifiable. It translates well into executive summaries. It becomes evidence of engagement with the ‘real world’.

But what exactly do we mean by social impact?

The standard definition is both expansive and vague. We are told that academics must not only research and teach but also serve society, by influencing policy, shaping public debate, partnering with communities and making their work accessible. The word ‘accessible’ does a lot of work here. It’s difficult to argue with the sentiment. But in practice, the term has become so broad that almost anything can qualify. A tweet counts. So does a radio interview about Cape Town hosting the 2040 Olympic Games. Or serving on a church archive committee. (Guilty as charged on all three accounts.)

None of this is to suggest that engaging the public is unimportant. I do it every day. I hold the Chair of Economics, History and Policy at Stellenbosch University. I run this blog. I co-host a podcast. I write books that aim to make academic ideas accessible. I speak at events, give interviews, help advise policy.

Social impact, in many ways, is what I do.

Precisely for this reason, I argue that we should carefully consider how social impact is promoted across academia. Drawing on insights from economics, I suggest that requiring social impact from every academic might, paradoxically, lead to less meaningful social impact overall. Adam Smith’s division of labour applies as much to universities as it does to factories.