Revalidation, the sequel

So, nearly three years ago – having been tasked with leading the upgrade of undergraduate degree programmes in my department – I wrote a blog about my hopes and (mostly) fears regarding this revalidation process, as it was called. The blog led a few weeks later to an online event put on by UCL’s excellent Centre of the Pedagogy of Politics at which various learned and experienced folk, and me, discussed aspects of this process under the banner ‘What does a good Politics/IR degree look like?’ I still don’t know the answer to that, but, since then, I have played a role in transforming Cardiff University’s Politics and International Relations undergraduate curriculum. The number of modules we offer has been significantly reduced, degree pathways have been made more distinct, and a variety of new capstone projects have been added to the mix. I’ve also learned a few things about the revalidation process along the way, some of which might be worth sharing.

1. This will surprise no-one, but it’s worth noting that we found that a successful revalidation process requires a small core of departmental administrators and academics for whom revalidation becomes part of their daily existence. There were countless meetings held, numerous forms puzzled over, many mapping documents looked upon in horror, many compromises made. We formed a bond, similar – I imagine – to that forged by comrades who fought military campaigns together.

• Beyond that core, I was surprised by the sheer number of stakeholders involved at various points in the process. Obviously students (whose contribution was essential) and other members of departmental staff and professional services, but also staff from other departments with whom we share joint honours degrees, quality officers from various levels, deans of education, members of revalidation panels, those responsible for timetabling, student futures, information services, etc. Each had their own position and motivation. Not everyone was completely happy. Much of the process involved justifying to the aggrieved why particular decisions had been taken.

• In the original blog I put forward a long list of issues that I assumed we would be debating, e.g. what is the best mix of core and optional modules? In the end, though such matters were discussed, room for manoeuvre was less than anticipated. Logistical concerns as much as pedagogic ambition dictated an inevitable expansion of core modules, and we were compelled to reduce far more than we expected the number of optional modules we planned to offer. The ability to accept with reasonable equanimity that many of the choices made will not be determined solely by pedagogic concerns (or, indeed, by anyone operating at the departmental/school level) proved an essential attribute. At the same time, the core revalidation team did possess a strong sense of shared purpose. This meant that, although we were aware that we would have to compromise in some areas, we also all knew on which hills we would be willing to die.

• I found trying to find a route through the revalidation process difficult, fortunately those I asked for help to show me the way were brilliant. You know this because you’re reading this blog, but it seems to be that those interested in learning and teaching are immensely generous about sharing their experiences and resources. And so many people helped, both inside and outside my own institution. Of the latter, particular shoutouts go to Lisa Harrison and Simon Lightfoot. Thank you.

Final point. All the effort that has gone into the revalidation process to this point should translate into significant change. However, as any good scholar of public policy knows, what really matters is how those plans and promises are implemented. The rolling programme starts next semester with our sparkly new first year. Our revalidation adventure has only just begun.