The Wellcome Trust, in justifying its decision to fund more research outside the United Kingdom, uses a motley collection of arguments: some research in biomedical sciences is better done elsewhere: much of the world-class work is being done elsewhere: and, knell of doom, Britain's research infrastructure is getting too decayed.
While it ill becomes Wellcome to complain about infrastructure when it will not pay overheads on contracts - despite its generosity in paying for buildings in some places - the arguments used are really irrelevant. The Wellcome Trust is now so large it must go global. The strategy, if disappointing for the UK, is wholly understandable. It also sounds a warning: the country cannot afford to slip in the international race.
But we are. Britain's share of top-rank citations is declining. There is too little public money available for academic research and in particular, too little capital to invest in the world-class facilities required to continue to compete internationally. Our companies cannot or will not pay more. Meanwhile everyone in higher education wants a slice of the cash and the glamour, not least because of the growing evidence that teaching quality does ride with research.
This does not bother politicans much: concern over science teaching in schools, yes; concern over innovation in British industry, yes; concern over the public's supposed hostility to science, yes. But concern that we have too little university research, and should have more, no.
Capital grants from public funds have all but vanished. Current account money once ringfenced for academic research is now going to offset cuts in teaching funding or to subsidise industrial development. There has been substantial leakage of the research money moved from the block grant to the research councils and will be more as new punters compete for the cash and universities, either through slack accounting or fear of undercutting, fail to charge enough for overheads.
What is to be done? In the United States academic funding world, folk are fond of saying that every tub must stand on its own bottom: an inelegant usage that means that laboratories and institutes must be financially self-supporting. It is a tough discipline but it has a flipside: they get to keep the proceeds of their work. The result is a distortion in American university funding which threatens the coherence and autonomy of the institutions. Most fund raising is attached to particular projects and most proceeds are cornered by the outfit doing the work. Little comes to the central university pot out of which infrastructure costs must be met, teaching must be paid for and the money found to foster new ideas.
We are far from this in Britain, where universities are still widely seen as part of the public service, but the academic community's interest in issues surrounding intellectual property indicates the way in which we are being forced towards the American model. There are major tensions here to be sorted out while the sums of money are still not large. Intellectual property now brings Pounds 15-20 million a year into the British university system - about equivalent to the funding council research money for the coming academic year for the University of Sheffield. Even counting all consultancy and contract earnings the sums are not vast, but they will grow.
Two areas need attention. First is the tension between individuals and institutions. Where academics are underpaid, freelance earnings from books, patents, consultancies, or new start-up companies can provide welcome extra income. There is resistance to channelling such work through the university, which will take a slice. However, there is now a fair bit of experience of handling such intellectual property in universities, and both individuals and institutions can gain by working together. Imperial College and Salford University are among those which have provided models and there are now, for example, a number of universities with shares in new companies like Professor Denyer's Vision group (page 3).
A university can drive a harder bargain than an individual and can provide support at crucial stages. It can also use the extra revenue to help all parts of the institution. Without such mechanisms, academic intellectual property is a bit like a university version of the National Lottery. A few get rich, but most, playing with just as much skill as the big winners, get a few pounds or nothing.
The second area of tension is between universities and their research funders. As Graeme Davies points out in his letter on page 14 contracts for research in universities will be many and various. Over most of them the funding council has no say. He is right, however, to require that research which his council does fund should not involve giving the intellectual property rights to collaborators. This is a useful antidote to the bullying to which companies sometimes resort. If they are now up in arms, perhaps that is because they have been caught demanding too much. Just as an individual can be at a disadvantage negotiating with a company, so a university may be a small player in negotiations with a multinational company. The HEFCE rules should strengthen their position.
HEFCE rules should not stop universities taking contracts where they do cede the rights, nor prevent them entering into closed collaborations, but they should help universities charge more for such work.
Universities' trade is in intellectual property. New ways of charging for it, alongside work already "bought" by the research councils, the funding councils, other arms of government and charities need exploring to find extra money in today's hard times with our international research reputation on the slide and staff's living standards and working conditions deteriorating. Handled well, there is at least the possibility that a distinctively British model for exploiting academic intellectual property could be developed such that tubs would not only flourish individually but would also form part of a healthy garden.