Below are the memories of Jim McLauchlan (President of ATEM 1996-1999) about that time of turmoil and a new Spring.

AITEA and ATEM, a Reminiscence

1. The Pleasures of Youth and University Expansion

In late 1969, I arrived in Australia to take up appointment as a 'Graduate Assistant' in the Registrar's Office of The University of Sydney (the capital T was a requirement for all correspondence and publications). One of a group of young administrators brought in to underpin the rapid and generously funded development of Australian Universities in the late sixties and early seventies, I revelled in an exciting, demanding and productive environment which appeared to offer unlimited expansion.

As unfortunately still seems to be the case, most of us had wandered into our jobs by accident or referral. There was no sense of administrators being 'professional' at any level within the University (including us): the prevailing view, heavily reinforced by the hierarchy, was that we were solely there to serve the academic staff. For many academics and senior officers, this categorised us as 'downstairs' menials in the Victorian sense of being 'in service'. There was one species of administrator below us in the pecking order - the 'Graduate Clerk' - a grade whose appointment process was arcane, and for whom transmogrification to our level was well nigh impossible.

This view of our role was expressed in some strange ways. The GA's quickly became a cohesive and social group, and most of us would head off for lunch once a week to talk shop, exchange views, pass on information and of course, gossip. Out of this came radical ideas such as seeking a regular monthly meeting with senior staff, access to Academic Board and Senate papers, internal secondments to gain wider experience and (most radical of all), promotion based on merit rather than longevity or gender. Bear in mind that this was well before Equal Employment Opportunity and the Merit Principle became a legislative requirement. We even dared to debate whether we served the University first, encompassing and supporting the groves of academe and all the other forms of university flora and fauna. After some six months of hints and frowns from several senior administrative 'heavies', I was summoned to the Registrar's office to be told I had excellent career prospects, but solemnly warned against appearing to lead or create dissension. Two of my colleagues were also carpeted. We ignored the pointed suggestion that the lunches should cease, gave assurances of both loyalty and innocence, and were naively surprised that by the end of the year, our 'radical' agenda was quietly implemented - without acknowledgement.

We learnt on the job, from each other, and from our mistakes. The fortunate ones among us worked with skilled and experienced senior colleagues, the best of whom knew how to 'bring us on', which was the closest we came usually came to a mentoring or training program. There was only one middle level training program available nationally - the forerunner to the AVCC program - owing its existence to supportive and farsighted Registrars like Colin Plowman (ANU) and 'Ding' Bell (Melbourne). Held once a year over five days (I think) for twenty odd participants, selection was a rare prize, and I felt absolutely privileged when I was nominated in 1974. As a newcomer to Australian Higher Education, I discovered the genuine and long lasting benefits of what is now simply 'networking', and in addition to making some friends for life, began to get a fuller understanding of the breadth, depth, diversity and complexity of the university system. It also sparked my enduring passion for training and professionalism in higher education management. Over the next two or three years, I also learnt how fragile these programs can be: there were several attempts by a conservative clique of Registrars to discontinue the annual event, only narrowly averted by the 'progressives'.

A final example of those years was the usually dismissive attitude to obtaining further qualifications, formal or otherwise. This was generally seen as a purely personal activity with no relevance other than as a useful addition to student numbers. A colleague who subsequently became my wife decided to enrol externally in the only postgraduate diploma/master's degree for staff in tertiary education management. The University decreed that all fifteen days of the annual residential component should be deducted from her recreational leave, on the grounds that it was not a requirement for her employment - she already had an honours bachelor's degree - and that was sufficient for any Graduate Assistant.

2. Downhill to the Advanced Education Sector

In 1976 I moved to the New South Wales Institute of Technology (now the University of Technology, Sydney and a few blocks down from Sydney University), which was part of the burgeoning Advanced Education sector. Allegedly 'equal but different', there was intense rivalry with the University sector, and many of my new colleagues, especially academics, were determined to make the Institute an Australian version of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. I suspect only Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology, a sister college of advanced education, got anywhere near that status.

AITEA was born in this ferment of rivalry, when Maurie Blank wrote a weighty and somewhat overdone Constitution which nonetheless engaged the aspirations of many us who believed in the need to identify and create professional standards and behaviour. My Registrar gathered me up with half a dozen other senior administrators without notice one afternoon, and hauled us off to a meeting which had been called by another CAE to establish a New South Wales region of AITEA. It was in fact a takeover move, to put NSWIT in control, and ensure that none of the universities could influence the directions that the fledgling AITEA might take. For several years, there was no certainty that it would become a cross-sectoral organisation. We set about organising seminars, training programs and lunches which attracted large numbers of participants, and our membership grew exponentially across both sectors. There were attempts by university registrars to discourage their staff from joining, and at least two serious moves to set up an 'exclusive' Conference of University Administrators to parallel the U.K organisation. Fortunately, common sense - and a fair bit of effective politicking by those in both sectors, myself included, who believed that separate associations would weaken all parties - prevailed.

3. Further Downhill to TAFE

In 1987 I moved to the New South Wales Department of Technical and Further Education, a few more blocks down from NSWIT. During the previous decade, I had served on the AITEA NSW region Executive in various capacities, and seen the skills and efforts of my colleagues build it into a thriving and effective professional association.

In the mid eighties, in an echo of the long dead CAE/University status issue, we had debated whether we should admit TAFE members. The Constitution's emphasis on Degree/Diploma level entry qualifications, and the need to define what was 'Tertiary' experience, gave the 'hairsplitters' lots of opportunity to press the case for exclusion, but again common sense prevailed. Those of us on the inclusive side who imagined that we would see if not a flood, at least a steady flow of TAFE members, were to be sorely disappointed. Little did I realise that as result, a few years later I would join TAFE, and still be able to retain my membership of AITEA. Pressure of work meant that I was unable to continue to serve on the Executive, but kept in touch by regularly attending the state and national conferences.

Late in that decade occurred one of the saddest and most perplexing events that any voluntary organization an experience - a President committing serious misconduct, and subsequently being stripped of his membership. Seen by some as an inevitable 'rite of passage', it nonetheless sent a shockwave through the membership, especially the State and National Executives. As one cynical woman member remarked to me, 'even the boys in the club can't trust each other any more'.

4. A Reluctant Branch President

In 1992, the outgoing President of the New South Wales branch approached me about standing for the position. I had several reservations, not the least of which was whether I could commit sufficient time to the role to make a worthwhile contribution. The branch was in good shape, financially and in terms of programs and membership numbers, but seemed to have hit a plateau.

We faced a set of problems just as knotty - and some still as unresolved - as today. Only a small fraction of the members was able or willing to give their personal time, AITEA was perceived by universities and government instrumentalities as a 'worthy' training group but not a key player, there was resistance to creating a comprehensive professional body, and many of those who stayed out of AITEA were 'utilitarians' who had correctly concluded that membership would not add much value to their career options.

Another reservation was that it was hoped that my TAFE role would increase membership from that sector, which had so far been a trickle. Given that my responsibilities included TAFE training, this seemed reasonable to those with little knowledge of the Department. As I pointed out, NSW TAFE had well established statewide training programs, conferences and degree/diploma courses for administrative staff, all offered through a division of twenty full time staff with an annual budget of over $4m. The branch couldn't compete with that, and I doubt that much has changed since then. We decided to focus on cross-sectoral issues, and 'getting to know you' functions, which were well attended but did not attract many new members.

This was also an era of restructuring, downsizing and major political interventions in tertiary education; we were avowedly and appropriately not an industrial body and therefore we always tended to be on the periphery of the actions and events directly affecting our members. Nevertheless, in NSW we continued to focus on what we did best, and maintained our program coverage and membership for the next few years.

From the beginning, AITEA was a state-based organisation: the regions had the members, the money, and a majority on the 'National' Council (national is in quotes because we were an Australasian Institute, and our friends across the Ditch can be sensitive). I had attended an occasional meeting, but by and large our branch, like the others, pretty well ignored their deliberations, except when it came to increasing the membership subscription or asking us to pay more to the national coffers. As Branch President, I now had to attend every meeting, and was not impressed. There was much chat and some bluster about issues which seemed to me to be second order, and even when resolutions on key matters were solemnly passed, they were rarely acted on. Many of these issues were of long standing, and we would chew these old bones quite contentedly, comfortable in the knowledge that they would be served up again.

Questions such as our professional status (if any), the rise of managerialism in education, the emergence of commercialisation in all aspects of our work, the need to review our outdated Constitution, whether members were 'owned' by the branches or the Institute, clarifying the relationship between the two, and even determining the financial worth of the Institute, were all grist for our grinding but somewhat unproductive mill.

In 1995, a major issue emerged: there had been an uncontested election for National President, and some members of the Victorian branch decided that the result was unacceptable, and the election process flawed. There were threats of legal action to overturn the outcome, and even more extreme declarations that the branch would secede from the Institute. The outgoing President was unable to deal with the problem for personal reasons, and the other Branch Presidents gave me the hospital pass. When I talked it over with the spokesperson for the Victorian branch, I was left in no doubt that they were deadly serious about both litigation (legal advice had been taken) and secession (they were sure that the Constitution would enable them to keep their members and their resources).

After an intensive re-reading of the Constitution, I doubted whether their claims were well founded, but it was obvious that a victory for either protagonist would be pyrrhic, and the Institute, if it survived, would be a long time recovering. An acceptable compromise had to be found. I decided that the only workable solution would be for our members to reconfirm their electoral decision. If other persons decided to stand in a new election, so be it. However, the Victorian region would have to give an undertaking that it would abide by the result, whoever was elected. I also advised that the first election did not appear to have been handled according to the prescribed electoral process, which at least allowed the Institute Council to elevate the issue above personalities. All parties agreed to the compromise. I then had the difficult and frankly unpleasant task of telling the President Elect that the Council would be considering a motion to set aside the election.

There was real tension and concern among those aware of the contretemps as we approached the next Council meeting, which was to be held before the start of the Annual Conference in Hobart. In the event, the decision to hold a new election was taken after an extended debate, and as I recall, without a dissenting vote.

5. An Even More Reluctant Institute President

Mightily relieved to have got through this minefield apparently unscathed, I left the meeting to enjoy the Conference and forget the interplay of politics and personality created by an issue which had illuminated a darker side of our organisation.

That same evening, there was the first of half a dozen approaches over the next two days urging me to contest the election. After politely and lightheartedly declining the first two, I began to wonder if this was an orchestrated process with some agenda that I couldn't fathom, and decided to take it seriously. A discussion with two close friends helped to ease my paranoia, so I began to think the possibility through. There was still a year of my branch Presidency to run, and hence the need to consult the State Executive. I worried that in an already divided election environment, it would appear that I was taking advantage of a situation in which I had played a significant part, or even worse that I had engineered the whole mess. Equally important was that I would be running against a woman, and my many women colleagues and friends had often ragged me about the 'boys in suits' who thought they ran AITEA. In an overwhelmingly university group, could someone 'branded' as TAFE, no matter how senior, engender the respect and support that would be necessary to keep building the Institute? And in any case, why take on what was clearly going to be a difficult and thankless task which could well prove impossible?

In retrospect, I was worrying too much. The answer was straightforward, and given to me by a friend who was also a seasoned and blunt branch President: 'Don't kid yourself, Jim, nobody else wants to do it'. She was right.

6. From AITEA to ATEM

And so I inherited the Presidential mantle, worn with distinction by most of my predecessors, the majority of whom I had respected and liked. I was determined not to let them or our members down.

While awaiting the election result, I had done some serious thinking about how to go about the task if it came my way. Identifying the problems was, as always, the easy part, and I divided them into three: patching up the divisions that were now evident between the branches and the Institute Executive; dealing with the backlog of issues that had occupied the Council for far too long; and selecting some achievable initiatives that would improve AITEA's standing as a professional organization.

It was a pretty inauspicious beginning. A special general meeting was necessary to declare the election result within a specific time frame, and the Honorary Secretary was from Western Australia, so I had to organise the meeting myself. Turning up at Sancta Sophia College, the usual venue for the NSW branch, I found only a handful of members. A call to W.A. elicited information about the required quorum, and the indifferent suggestion that the meeting be rescheduled. In an eerie replay of my former Registrar's 'branch stacking' twenty years before, I rounded up a group of colleagues from Sydney University and NSWIT and made the quorum by the slimmest of margins. The quips and barbs from those friends about crossing their palms with silver (or at least buying them drinks) and the imperial placing of the crown on my own head were accepted as a reasonable 'quid pro quo'.

And then it got worse. I had been aware that the outgoing President had experienced some difficulty with the Treasurer, and had even gone to Canberra in an unsuccessful attempt to get the financial records. To this day, I don't know what the real problem was, but it was only solved by my meekly travelling to Canberra, buying the Treasurer a cup of coffee, and receiving with some formality a few slim manila folders. It was patently clear that the Executive 'team' was close to dysfunctional. I added a fourth problem to my list - finding colleagues who would form a working Executive.

Those first six months were spent meeting and talking with branches, separating the desirable tasks from the difficult but feasible, and convincing the Council to set up the 'Institute Reference Group'. This awkwardly titled brainchild was my attempt to identify and progress issues for the Institute and head off region fears of 'Centralism' by including representatives of every region. All I asked was that the members be prepared to work. By June 1996, the Council had agreed (with some hesitation), and for the next four years the group became a powerhouse of ideas, activity and productivity. By 1998, it was redubbed most appropriately as the ATEM 2000 Group.

One always savours those relatively rare career experiences when a diverse assemblage of individuals becomes a driving, exciting and fun-to-be-with team. We debated, argued, disagreed violently on occasion, but always got on with business. Everyone contributed, but I must single out Maree Conway, whose encyclopaedic knowledge of the organisation and commitment to making it truly professional is unsurpassed; Tom Gregg, who was already building the New Zealand branch in many of the directions that I hoped to develop for the Institute; Margie Cole, whose boundless enthusiasm in general and communication skills in particular led her to take on the Newsletter; and Richard Easther, who was to guide us through the financial minefields and produce the first comprehensive consolidated accounts, earning accolades as 'the World's greatest Treasurer, Keating included'.

There was a double benefit, in that several of these key players also participated in the Executive and Council, and could clarify the issues and present the proposals. This may seem trivial, but in fact assumed real importance, particularly at Council, where I strived to demonstrate the Chair's neutrality. Yes, I failed at times, the most memorable occasion being a rather stormy meeting in Perth when we were adopting a new name and a new Constitution. One fellow member of Council later told me that he was poised to interpose himself between me and another member to prevent fisticuffs. (I'm sure he was exaggerating?).

Out of all this came a raft of initiatives, virtually all of which were adopted and implemented. Others can judge their value and relative significance, but the one closest to my professional heart was the change of name. As with so much of our agenda, this issue had been around since 1988, when Russell Huntington of the Victorian branch had put up a paper to Council pointing out the clear and probably permanent shift to 'managerialism' in Universities, and proposing the name 'Institute of Tertiary Education Management'. Although taken with superficial seriousness, it died amidst a little levity and a few snide remarks such as 'who wants to be an ITEM'. We got there in the end, by dint of the efforts of many, and perhaps, a small shift up the alphabet, despite the odd comment about whom we might 'hate' or have 'gobbled up'.

Almost equally satisfying was laying to rest the dread spectre - at least to the branches - of a 'permanent secretariat'. Another very old potato, it was regularly put aside for reasons of funding, the fear of increasing 'central' control, and the assertion that the workload did not justify it. Within a few months of taking on the job, it was clear to me that no effective President could single handedly deal with AITEA's range of demands, from administrivia to management and policy development. Although in my own position I had four personal staff, it was impossible to divert them from their primary tasks, as I had been able to do as a region President. Thanks to the dedication of Lyn McGrath, a TAFE member, and John Chapman, AM, (whom I believe is now the longest and the most continuously serving officer in AITEA/ATEM), who in turn accepted the role of Institute Secretary, I survived the first two years. By that time, the case for a full time position was self evident, and Lisa Halvorsen was seconded from the University of Newcastle. I owe each of them a considerable debt for putting up with me during some regularly difficult times, and am comforted by the fact that they are still friends. Giles Pickford and Peter Scardoni have continued to demonstrate and reinforce the value of an ongoing secretariat, which operates for the benefit of all members.

I began this reminiscence to jot down a few highlights for our thirtieth Anniversary, and clearly got carried away. If any of my remarks are inaccurate, or worse still, derogatory to any of the groups or individuals who shared my perambulation through AITEA/ATEM, please accept my apologies. My sole intention has been to give the reader a historical whiff of people and events, and the satisfaction that comes from helping to build a professional association. AITEA/ATEM has been a vital part of my professional life. I still retain sufficient passion to hope that it will engender the same response in its present and future members - or at least in a small percentage. The dedication and commitment of the latter is a prerequisite for a bright future.

Jim McLauchlan