These included asking what the university’s priorities are and if the number of management layers and extent of administrative centralisation are appropriate.
These questions are ethical in nature.
If a financial predicament is treated only in financial terms, it will fail to take account of the numerous human elements from which there can be no escape.
Redundancies are never morally neutral.
The implications for individuals may be life-shattering, especially if they have been long-standing highly performing staff members.
This has especial resonance for academics and support staff, with their specialist skill sets.
Their redundancy is morally fraught because it endangers the university’s teaching and research reputation.
In approaching redundancy, a prerequisite is fairness.
Both the staff who leave the university and those who remain are to be treated fairly, meaning the decision-making criteria and the way they are being implemented are spelled out to all affected staff.
A further requirement is that the redundancies ensure the university is well positioned for the future as a high-grade learning and scholarly institution.
These requirements will only be assured following serious analysis and thought.
Knee-jerk reactions to crises, including financial ones, may lead to the loss of people with expertise and skills, to the detriment of the university.
But a deeper loss will be a moral one, because the redundancy will be driven predominantly by imperatives that pay only limited attention to the welfare of staff.
No matter what empathic-sounding words are used by those in authority, these words ring hollow if staff are demoralised as they find themselves unable to utilise their academic expertise.
Both the university and the individuals are impoverished.
In redundancy both leavers and survivors are affected emotionally and psychologically, and possibly financially, with survivor guilt being evident in some instances.
There are moral consequences for both groups.
If the processes are fair, there is a chance those leaving the university will continue to view it positively.
If not, their negativity will be spread far and wide via social media, and this may have its own financial consequences for the university simply because prospective parents and future students will be deterred from attending the university.
If people conclude that the university treats its staff badly, how does it treat its students?
Some people refer to ethical redundancy, suggesting there is a good way to make employees redundant. This implies that, despite the pressures of redundancy, everyone is treated with respect. Large numbers of staff are not left fearing for their future in the absence of clear directives from the university.
A pivotal notion in bioethics is informed consent. Those slated for involuntary redundancy do not have the option of consenting.
Assuming that involuntary redundancy can be justified, one needs to know the basis for all redundancy decisions.
The bottom line appears to be that the ill-effects of non-redundancy outweigh the ill-effects of redundancy, to the individuals concerned and to the university.
This is an ethical calculation that can only be justified if the decisions are made against the university’s strategic priorities, and if these priorities rate the area (or individual) in question as of limited strategic value to the university.
However, this conclusion should only be reached following extensive discussion and broad agreement across the university.
An alternative approach is to shrink all areas so that all areas suffer to an equal degree.
All individuals and their disciplinary interests are treated equally, and all are disadvantaged to a comparable extent.
This makes for administrative simplicity. And yet, it fails to take account of the distinctions of the different areas, their variable academic strengths and their diverse responsibilities to students, their communities and their professions.
This approach is not the ethical nirvana it may appear at first sight. And it means some highly performing staff members will be made redundant even when their performance cannot be faulted.
They are being dealt with unfairly and it dents people’s trust in the university.
Redundancies or even the threat of redundancies harm the university, its reputation and its staff. And so, it is important to ask whether redundancy can ever be a good.
The answer is yes, if it saves the university from irreparable damage. But there is a major proviso, and this is that staff are to be treated according to the highest ethical standards — with respect and fairness, treatment across the university is consistent and backed up by a well-publicised set of generally accepted strategic priorities.
Those making redundancy decisions are to act with humility, honesty and transparency.
They are to admit when they may have made mistakes and errors of judgement that were in part responsible for the current financial impasse.
Only in this way will they be seen to be acting by exemplary ethical standards.
■Gareth Jones is emeritus professor of anatomy at the University of Otago.
