The Work Behind the Work: Rethinking the Faculty–Staff Divide in Academia

An interview with my colleague Anne Trolard on her recent Working Life article in Science

Over the past three years, I’ve had the chance to work with a colleague — a staff scientist — whose work has pushed us to reconsider roles in academia. She recently published piece in the Working Life section of Science that takes a critical look at the faculty–staff divide that got a lot of attention. At its core, the argument is that the intellectual contributions of staff are often overlooked in part because that work isn’t written into the original job description. That resonates with me. People evolve. Roles expand. And the categories we inherit from institutions often lag behind the reality of how work actually gets done. The best leaders—and the healthiest organizations—are the ones that can see beyond categories and recognize contribution where it exists. I don’t think this means that everyone, every staff, has to follow the same path. But for those who are looking to, the path should be open. If we get this right, the payoff is not just fairness. It’s better science, too.

I sat down with Anne last week to talk a little about this essay. The Working Life publication is great, but short. I wanted to talk a bit more about what was going on behind the scenes. I should say that Anne and I are also friends outside of work, so this conversation below is definitely one that could have just happened over a meal or a drink. I supervise some, but not all, of her work as well (which creates a potential conflict of some sort, I’m not sure what sort exactly). The professional link has allowed me to her appreciate her thinking. At the same time, as a friend, I’ve also witnessed some of her frustrations. Hopefully this interview can surface a bit of both. (The conversation occurred on a Zoom call and is edited to make it shorter and tighter).

Elvin: Thanks for chatting today. It might seem a bit strange — it does to me at least — to “interview” you. But here we go. Let me then just cut to the chase. What motivated you to write this piece, and who did you most hope would hear it?

Anne: It doesn’t feel that strange actually! Maybe because we’ve talked about these issues off and on for some time now. I appreciate the chance to chat about the piece. I had been thinking about these issues for a long time. From the time I started working in academia, I was trying to understand how everything worked, and some of the ways the institution operated simply did not make sense to me. They did not seem efficient, but more than that, I gradually realized that many of these practices reflected established hierarchies that shaped how people were treated and whose contributions were recognized. It was also clearly not the product of any one person’s design, so to speak.

For years, I have been unsettled when I find only faculty acknowledged for work that staff contribute to – not just the logistics and organization, but the actual thinking too. I mostly addressed my concerns one conversation at a time—talking with colleagues individually, encouraging staff members to speak with faculty they trusted, trying to improve things informally. Writing the essay was the first time I decided to take those concerns into a broader public space.

When the editor at Science first discussed the piece with me, she asked whether I was worried about retaliation. That was an important moment, because I realized I had enough confidence, and enough evidence from my own experience, that I no longer believed speaking honestly about these issues should be seen as reckless. I hoped people would see the essay not as an attack, but as a serious effort to name a problem and invite change.

Elvin: That’s interesting. I guess I also felt slightly nervous to some extent when I knew you were submitting the piece. But I also knew that you felt strongly and were willing to stand by what you said. And when I thought about it, I didn’t think that there would really be any blow back. But given that the culture is shifting, what, in your view, actually needs to change to push thing along? Is this mainly about mindsets, or is it about organizational structures, or something else?

Anne: I think it begins with dialogue to expose the hierarchies for what they are, constructed. I cannot tell you how many times colleagues have come to me feeling they were not treated well, and when I suggest speaking directly about it, the response is often that doing so would not help. Many people feel there is no point, or that it is too risky. What that tells me is that people think change is impossible. But I am not even sure many people in positions of authority fully recognize there is a problem. Dialogue starts the change. Sometimes the changes needed are not even dramatic structural overhauls. They can be smaller shifts in awareness. For example, years ago it was common for staff to sit around the perimeter of meetings while faculty sat at the table. That was simply accepted. Now that would feel far less normal. That did not require a formal campaign; it required consciousness changing over time. So yes, structures matter, but often the first step is making visible what has long been taken for granted.

Elvin: That’s a very interesting and tangible example. I think in some of the spaces we occupy that indeed changed, but in other situations, I think there might be less change. Who at this point most needs to hear that message?

Anne: In many cases, leaders within institutions. The people whose voices carry the most weight are often those least likely to hear candid feedback. I think many leaders would actually be open to listening if someone raised these issues directly and thoughtfully. But institutions often function as though current arrangements are natural laws rather than social constructions. Once you recognize that systems were built by people, it becomes easier to imagine changing them.

Elvin: It’s interesting that many people accept institutional norms as fixed. You are different somehow. How did you become someone willing to question them?

Anne: I think that comes from my family and how I was raised. I grew up in a small Protestant denomination where, when I was young, women were not permitted to serve fully in leadership roles. Both of my grandmothers were involved in challenging those restrictions. They were deeply respected in our family, and I grew up seeing women who were willing to confront unfair systems even when it came at a cost. That shaped me. I learned early that conventions are not automatically right just because they are longstanding. I also learned that reasoned disagreement can be constructive. I tend to trust that if you present a thoughtful argument, many people will listen. And honestly, I have often found that confronting conflict directly can be productive. That level of honesty feels necessary to me.

Elvin: There was one story you told me before that illustrates the material in the article well — the issue of recognizing staff contributions a couple of years ago at an academic conference. I don’t think there was room in the Science piece to give the play-by-play on that, but it could be instructive. Could you recount what happened in that instance for us?

Anne: I had been with this organization for several years. Each year, the unit would present its accomplishments, but the staff who actually produced much of that work were never acknowledged by name. Only faculty were recognized. Even people in the audience would ask who had done the work. To me, it felt like the institution was not telling the full story. For several years I tried to raise it quietly and suggest changes, but nothing happened. Then one year the organizers needed materials directly from me, and I realized I had leverage. I said I would not provide the slides unless the staff contributors were properly credited. The response was revealing. At one point they proposed simply having all staff stand up together for applause. Many thought that was a good compromise. But that missed the point entirely. Recognition is not generic gratitude; it is acknowledging actual people for actual contributions. In the end, I did not provide the material.

Elvin: I mean, that was bold. I mean I remember thinking “I wish Anne would just compromise, it would probably be better for the project” but I also respected taking a stand. How did that shake out at the end of the day? Did you feel like there was blowback?

Anne: Not directly. I heard people were upset, but no one approached me openly. And that itself was instructive and one of the real lessons from this process. If there is no dialogue, there is no real opportunity for growth or resolution.

Elvin: You mentioned confidence. How did that come about and what kinds of working relationships helped to build that?

Anne: Working with people who value ideas on their merits rather than by rank makes a tremendous difference. In my own career, that kind of environment helped me feel more willing to take risks and speak openly. When someone listens seriously regardless of title or role, it changes what feels possible.

Elvin: I think that is true. Institutions sometimes rely too heavily on titles, when insight can come from many places.

Anne: Exactly. Roles matter, but they are not the whole story. Titles can limit credibility where it should exist and sometimes grant credibility where it is not earned. Healthy institutions need to be able to see beyond those boxes.

Elvin: Thinking outside the box both feels like the right thing to do, doesn’t it? There is so much more to discuss, but I think we are out of time. This is a random thought to close on, but thinking of people outside their boxes reminds me of the 16^th century Japanese daimyo Nobunaga. He started as a part of a small clan but ended up conquering almost all of Japan in part because he was the first to train farmers for battle instead of relying only on the traditional Samurai “warrior class.” Obviously, this is far, far from academics and research but it illustrates that the boxes can sometimes get in the way. Thanks for chatting and bye for now!

Anne: Thank you too.