And then there were two. . .

Having travelled from various destinations across the UK, and some even further afield, the ten senior lecturers, all with their eye on the big prize, pile into the waiting mini-coach at Exeter station. They are cautious with each other at first, keen to size up the opposition, and much of the journey passes in silence. It takes just over an hour to get to the remote country house were the two-day selection process for head of department is to take place.

On arrival there is a folder of papers for each of them containing details of the pre-interview exercises and the timings of each of their individual appointments the following afternoon with the selection panel. Aware that they will not be meeting any of the university’s senior managers beforehand the plethora of CCTV cameras make it absolutely clear that they are already under observation.

In all of the bedrooms and in the large dining room where many of the scheduled activities will take place there is a framed poem.

Ten ambitious scholars went down to dine;

One choked on jargon and then there were nine.

Nine ambitious scholars stepping up to the plate;

One denounced admin and then there were eight.

Eight ambitious scholars enjoying the trip to Devon

One thought they’d stay and then there were seven.

Seven ambitious scholars willing to learn new tricks,

One wasn’t up to it and then there were six.

Six ambitious scholars thought they could duck and dive,

One sick of pressure and then there were five.

Five ambitious scholars not wanting to be poor,

One over/under (?) valued and then there were four.

Four ambitious scholars eating cake and drinking tea,

One’s over full and then there were three.

Three ambitious scholars extoling what they do,

One clearly exaggerating and then there were two.

Two ambitious scholars with only one head-ship,

Careful. Watch your step now. Neither wants to trip…..

Whilst a couple of the house’s new inhabitants find this a little creepy the majority dismiss it as a psychological intervention aimed to unnerve. Putting it out of their minds they get on with the tasks in hand. The first afternoon passes quickly with structured discussion groups and aptitude tests. Nobody makes any obvious gaffes and everybody relaxes a little.

Then comes the first dreaded ordeal – trial by dinner. What to wear? What to talk about? Who to talk to? How much to eat or not? The possibilities for potential faux pas are endless and significant. A little nervous most of the ten drink rather more than they usually do at such occasions which leads to dangerous levels of self-promotion.  Inevitably, by the cheese course, several are showing off. There is much academic bluster and bravado and no one is really listening to anyone else. In the end it is the reference to epistemology that does it. But fair play, for who'd say ‘theory of knowledge’ when a much more complicated term is available to mark one’s insider status. In the middle of his detailed lecture a bit of cracker gets caught in the speaker's windpipe and he splutters and gasps for air, his hands clutching his throat. An ambulance is called and he is taken away. Undeterred the remaining nine continue to compete. Deep into a conversation about the positives and negatives of restructuring one foolishly, or heroically depending on your perspective, admits her personal distaste of institutional league tables, teaching and research quality assessment, performance management and timetabling. ‘What I really want to do is concentrate on my research,’ she declares. Within seconds her phone buzzes with an incoming text that reads: ‘Pack your bags, taxi will be waiting outside in 10 minutes.’ A tad subdued the eight remaining candidates decide unanimously (a first for some of them at a gathering of peers) to call it a day and go to their rooms to prepare for tomorrow.

By breakfast another has left. There is a note: ‘The beautiful countryside has seduced me. I’ve decided to take a two-term sabbatical. Good luck all.’ The collective euphoria at the decreasing competition doesn’t last long amongst the remaining seven. And although the debate on the relationship between staff and student satisfaction leads to another storming out the six that are left are by now all feeling rather twitchy.  The morning exercises continue and include a gruelling couple of sessions focusing on Working with Complex Scenarios and Challenges Going Forward. The talent management role play scuppers the chances of another hopeful so that there are only five left to complete individual paperwork on preferred continued professional development and self-determined assessment (including a declaration of deserved salary). Several nail biting minutes follow before the inevitable text arrives. No-one knows whether she rated herself too highly or rather she displayed a lack of self-confidence, drive and commitment.

After the taxi leaves the four attempt to deal with their growing stress levels by eating cake and drinking strong tea. This on top of the full English, the rich meal the previous evening plus the cocktails, wine and brandy proves too much for yet another member of the group meaning there are only three presentations focusing on past and present achievements and future plans for the department. Forgetful of the disaster that befell the boastful colleague at dinner yesterday one begins to over-claim somewhat the impact of their work declaring it to be both ‘ground-breaking’ and ‘world-leading’. . . 

And so there are two. They nod and retire to their respective rooms to eat lunch alone. Huddled over their laptops they each do some last minute final preparation for the main event.

Suited and booted they meet at the top of the steep and winding staircase. ‘You first,’ says one to the other. ‘Mind how you go, you don’t want to fall.’