In Sweden a successful academic career requires you to apply for research funding. If you don’t get funding, they say, it’s difficult to do research. You end up teaching too much and you have no money to buy books or to travel. The pecking order of prestige is determined by who can get what grant. Big professors have big grants.
And yet, I’ve decided not to apply for any money. First of all, I like teaching. It is only once you are forced to explain something to someone else that you actually understand it. Not teaching, I would lose this opportunity. Secondly, my research is extraordinarily cheap. All I need is a computer with an internet connection, and I have that already. I also have about a million books. The additional books I need I can get as pdfs or buy with my own money.
The fundamental problem with big grants is that they ground you in one place. You are supposed to invest the money in institutional structures — assistants, copy machines, adoring post-docs — and to develop your network of patronage. I’ve done the opposite throughout my life — constantly broken with institutions and networks. I have no patronage to distribute. All I have is what I can take with me as I move along — my words. The words I write and the words I use when I lecture. Omnia mea mecum porto.
I treasure my freedom more than the social prestige that comes with big grants. I want to be able to write whatever I like and not be dependent on others. I want to speak out on behalf of causes I believe in — such as academic freedom — without fear of financial retribution. If I don’t apply for money, no one can tell me what I can’t do. No, I will never be a big professor.
And frankly, I don’t think much social science research deserves funding anyway. The research just isn’t important or interesting enough. Most of it is esoteric nonsense and self-indulgent self-promotion. No one outside of the universities cares, and for good reason. I include my own research here. Give my money to cancer research!