The long-haul route to impact rarely begins at university

When I was asked recently to present my research on innovation at an international conference organised by a major professional association, I jumped at the chance to establish relationships with the kind of people whom contemporary academics are expected to influence.

As I imagined weaving my visit into a compelling impact case study for the next research excellence framework, I decided that I would have to remain silent about the association’s secondary request: that I speak for no more than 90 seconds (“I know that’s not long but we are trying out a new punchy format called the ‘fast show’”).

The premise of the impact agenda is attractively simple: that if academics want public funding for their research, they must provide policymakers with evidence of the positive impact it has on the economy and society – not least so that they can head off sceptical politicians looking for “efficiency savings”. However, my research suggests that even in a field such as tourism studies, in which there might be a reasonable expectation of it, impact is far from assured. Indeed, the seemingly official belief that research can have universal application is deeply flawed. The only guarantee is that current UK research policy will result in disappointment.

This is not a criticism of academics but of a policy imperative that leads them to spend time presenting illusions of impact rather than on more purposeful work, such as teaching students. Meaningful research impact in tourism is almost imperceptible, and my research suggests that this will not – perhaps cannot – change in the foreseeable future, regardless of the funding arrangements. I anticipate that my findings would apply to many other disciplines.

I have identified several reasons for this based on data gathered by digital methods, interviews with prominent researchers and past REF panel members, an analysis of all relevant REF impact case studies, and ethnographic reflections on my time working with businesses and policymakers (including a long stint as a sponsored professor).

First, when researchers explain why some organisations are more innovative than others, or why some countries or regions approach tourism planning in certain ways, they do so without reference to the role of universities. It seems somewhat implausible, therefore, to imagine that if they gained access to scholars and their work, they would somehow experience an epiphany regarding the possibilities presented by academic research. Even industry figures with a positive disposition towards universities consider knowledge produced by academics to be largely irrelevant (apart, perhaps, from the relatively crude surveys that populate trade magazines).

Second, while the quality of research in tourism studies is improving, it lags behind many established disciplines because – without wishing to be too heretical – it is concentrated in universities where resources for it are limited. Moreover, as in all maturing fields, status and academic respectability comes from abstraction and, generally, a distancing from the practical concerns of practitioners. Indeed, it is instructive that some of the more plausible claims to impact are often based on relatively routine consultancy projects rather than anything associated exclusively with universities.

Third, academic research in this field often emphasises the economically liberating role of tourism, or its potential contribution to intercultural understanding and improvements to social welfare. Yet there is little progressive collaboration with policymakers, commercial operators or NGOs. Instead, there are many long-haul, carbon-emitting trips to offer advice on sustainable tourism projects, the net benefits of which remain ambiguous.

So why did a professional association fly me to Argentina to speak at its flagship international conference? Was it to learn from my research on the dynamic capabilities of innovative organisations? I doubt it. Perhaps more plausibly, trade and professional associations, like universities, need to demonstrate their relevance. And like us, they often do so by telling an impact story. Theirs emphasise the organisational advantages of sending employees to an event with a varied programme of speakers taking place in an attractive overseas location.

Rhodri Thomas is professor of tourism and events policy and dean of the School of Events, Tourism and Hospitality Management at Leeds Beckett University. His latest book, Questioning the Assessment of Research Impact: Illusions, Myths and Marginal Sectors is published by Palgrave (2018) as part of its Critical University Studies Series.