Letter from the Editor: Question Everything

Alexander Lane

Universities should be places of enquiry, investigation and questions. Not a place where knowledge is necessarily fed to us, but where students cultivate the skills to ask the right question, at the right time, and to the right person.

It is when we do not question the events and decisions around us that we give way to forces of power. Complicity and obedience are the bread and butter, not only of autocratic regimes, but also of simple institutional malfeasance and abuse.

The robodebt inquiry, which continues to plod along, reflects this. Every person brought before the inquiry reveals a hidden culture, flourishing beneath the public service’s unthinking, unquestioning obedience. Yet, the very principle of robodebt, of oppressing and abusing the poor, rests on a raft of unanswered questions about humanity, kindness, and what it takes to survive in life. The inquiry began with the oldest of questions, which ought to drive us, “is this right?”

Universities are no longer places of enquiry. Investigations and questions are asked too infrequently. We may learn and study in class, but the big questions are no longer asked. Activism, debate, and concern have fallen by the wayside, lost somewhere between neverending funding cuts, and the need to sell out as the cost of living gnaws away.

There are important questions to ask of the ANU. What is happening to our degrees? Why do we, the students, the public, or the customers, have no say in the direction of our learning and of future generations’ learning? Why do our residences cost so much and why do we have so few rights when we live in them?

The ANU functions on the formula of not answering student questions. We still do not have a clear answer as to why the lock-out fee was increased with no warning, no consultation and no apparent due thought. Leaving questions unanswered leaves the structures and principles of immoral decisions intact and unchallenged. True answers are not single sentences, and they reflect the hierarchy of decision-making. An unanswered question is weaponised incompetence.

But, if we are to revitalise the practice of asking the right question, then there are questions for ourselves. When did we decide to let ANU make all the decisions? Our student elections suffer from incredibly poor turnout, compared to our past, and compared to other universities across the country. When did we decide student representation didn’t matter?

Such self-interrogation should not be self-flagellation. Consciousness and turning up are vital, but so is balance. Activism sustained by the community means we do not have to devote our lives to it, but merely speak up when needs be.

Sometimes, the ANU reminds me of a hot, stifled summer, where nothing moves, not even the grass. And I think of Camus and his empty humanity:

“My degree was cut today. Or maybe yesterday, I don’t know. I received an email from the ANU: ‘Degree cut. Funeral tomorrow. Very sincerely yours.’ That doesn’t mean anything. It might have been yesterday.”

Finally, a thank you to Lizzie Fewster and Jasmin Small, who are their own forces of power. I hope you enjoy the magazine they and their teams have laboured over. Ask us, have we asked the right questions?

Art By Jasmin Small