It’s 1970 and Sir Theodor (Ted) Bray is about to start enjoying a well-deserved retirement having spent decades as editor of the Courier-Mail, Brisbane’s principal newspaper. But he’s looking for something to occupy his time. And then, Queensland’s minister of education gets in touch: Might Bray be interested in… creating a new university? From scratch?
As recounted in Professor Patrick Weller’s new history of Griffith, Doing Things Differently, Bray isn’t sure. He tells the minister that he knows nothing about universities, except as the father of five graduates of the University of Queensland (UQ): someone else would probably be better. But a week later, the minister calls back. Bray changes his mind and accepts the deceptively simple brief: ‘To plan a second university institution in Brisbane.’ Five years later, on 5 March 1975, Griffith University would open its doors on the Nathan campus for the first time.
Community first
“The minister never gave any more direction on planning than that,” recalled Bray in a 1993 interview. “Although we were told the areas where UQ was pressed, we took no notice of that. When the committee met, we decided to take a totally fresh approach to setting up a university.” Bray spent the next 15 years doing just that, serving as Griffith’s first chancellor until 1985. In 1975, he was knighted for services to education and journalism, and died in 2000, at the age of 95. His legacy was a bold departure from the traditions of sandstone universities that had dominated the landscape.
Bray set up an interim council – all members chosen by him – which included, in his words, both ‘town and gown’: academics alongside people with experience of government, business and industry. Together, the council created an identity for Griffith that still endures today. They wanted Griffith to be different, relevant and engaged with the needs of the community.
In fact, as Weller writes: “The first decision was what should not be taught. Griffith would not get involved in the professional schools such as Medicine, Engineering and Law; they were adequately covered by UQ. Griffith should instead be concerned with community problems, understanding where society will be in 20 years.”
Hence, Griffith would be structured differently. As the 1971 annual report laid out: “The University does not intend to organise its work of teaching, community services and research by way of departments that reflect different academic disciplines.” It would have broadly based schools, each with an academic theme. So, Griffith University began with schools of Humanities, Science, Australian Environmental Studies and Modern Asian Studies – the latter being the first of its kind anywhere in Australia.
Teaching together
Griffith rejected the hierarchical structures of traditional teaching. Instead, it fostered an egalitarian teaching partnership between professors and students. There was a sense of openness, inclusivity and cohesion rarely seen at larger institutions, remembers Professor Emeritus David Pegg, who taught Science and Mathematics. “There were only a small number of students, so you got to know them all by name. There was a good rapport among the students, and they interacted well with each other, much more than you would find at a traditional university.” He remembers delivering the University’s first lecture in Mathematics. “We had about 84 students, and they all turned up!”
When Sian Lewis (BA Humanities, 1980) first heard John Willett – Griffith’s first vice-chancellor – speak at her school, she knew she had to be part of it. “They were offering degrees focused on problem-solving, which was very alternative at the time. I was sold,” she says. She enrolled in Humanities and was among the 451 students who attended Nathan Campus in 1975, the inaugural teaching year. “We were very active for the size of our campus. We punched above our weight,” she says. “We thought we were changing the world. But still, we were changing hearts and minds, one at a time.”
Mix and match
It was a volatile time in Australia: attitudes around everything from sexuality to cultural diversity were changing. It was the right time to reimagine what a university could be. And Lewis was in the thick of it all: organising buses to demonstrations, editing the student newspaper, Griffitti, and debating ideologies and actions. “We thought it was terrific,” she says of Griffith’s early days. “The atmosphere was interesting intellectually, and it was an interesting time politically. And there was also quite a big mature age cohort compared to other universities. So, there was a mix of people, both staff and students.”
Ian Olsson (BA Asian & International Studies, 1982), who was the first student representative to sit on the University Council – alongside Bray – remembers the approach to inclusive decision making. “I put my hand up to be a representative on Council, with full voting rights,” he says. “I have wonderful memories of the camaraderie.”
He recalls his biggest victory. Ted Bray wanted a new space to be called the Gallery. Olsson wanted it to be called the Undercroft – arguing his case so persuasively, he managed to tip the vote in his favour. “It was one of those very rare times that Ted Bray went down on the vote – this time by just one vote!” he says. Lewis felt a similar spirit of collaboration in her time as student union chairperson. “There was a sense that everyone was encouraged to contribute their ideas,” she recalls.
World in motion
The University’s emphasis on real-world problems – coupled with a flexible, interdisciplinary curriculum with a global outlook – attracted open-minded, driven students like Olsson. He had previously “flunked” an architecture course at the University of New South Wales. But when he moved with his employer to Queensland, he was still eager to embrace education. UQ rejected him, but Griffith welcomed him to the Modern Asian Studies course, majoring in Sociology and Economics, where he thrived.
It was an experience that opened up the world to him, he says. “I was invited by Professor Colin Mackerras [founder of the School of Modern Asian Studies, now a professor emeritus] to be part of a student team led by his wife Alyce to go over to China just before Christmas 1977. Going through China at the end of the Cultural Revolution, when it had just started to open up, was an absolutely magical event.”
And Griffith sought to break down traditional divides between staff and students. There were no separate staff common rooms, for example; both staff and students shared the same space. Lewis remembers: “The staff and students all had cups of tea together in the common room. That facilitated lots of conversations about the relationship between what might be going on in street marching, for example, and what might be happening in literature and politics.”
The future’s bright
Of course, 50 years on, much has changed. These days Griffith has a diverse range of disciplines, multiple campuses, and a thriving alumni network. It has grown and changed to fit both its community and the demands of the wider world. While 50 years ago Griffith chose to focus on emerging areas, its model proved flexible enough to encompass the subjects its community needed, such as Medicine, Engineering and Law – all of which are now a core part of Griffith’s teaching. And it ranks highly as a young university – 35th in the 2024 Times Higher Education Young University Rankings.
But it still holds true to Bray and his team’s determination to prepare students for the challenges of the future, and to nurture a community that values critical thinking. As Lewis says: “The biggest things I learnt from Griffith were to always have an inquiring mind and to try to change the world for the better.”
Image captions (top to bottom):
- Modern Asian Studies class
- David Pegg 1997
- Graduation Day, 19 March 1983 with Sir Theodor Bray
- Sian Lewis and friends
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