Over a long time, it has become clearer and clearer that the explanation of how we live has to feature not just the clash of “large” social forces, but also all the “little” things that keep us mobile, that run relay on our lives, the scaffolding that is also the building. The life of an academic is not just supported by these little things but made possible by them. Things like the feel of favorite pens (I can’t stand ballpoint pens), the kind of paper that can stand up to exclamations and repeated crossings out, the various software packages (from the ubiquitous Word and Outlook to Endnote, RefWorks or Zotero).

What should the title of the leader of a university be? In some ways, it’s a trivial question. But in some ways not. The deeper you go into the issue, the more complicated it becomes as different academic cultures reveal themselves.

Over the last week, I have been part of a U.K. higher-education delegation to South Korea, visiting universities like Seoul National University and the Korea Advanced Institute of Science and Technology (Kaist) and meeting senior representatives from many other South Korean universities. South Korean universities are pushing hard to make an even bigger impact in the world and, at least to judge by rankings, confidence levels and the state of their campuses, they are clearly succeeding.

Civility is a nebulous word. The dictionary defines it as 'formal politeness and courtesy in behavior or speech'. More generally, it is often used as a means of belaboring what often seems like the increasingly destructive nature of public debate with its nasty ad hominem attacks and its displays of vitriol which are often out of all proportion to the offense.