I work 80-hour weeks or more on average, and I don't have time to tweet. But for those who want to know what University of California President Mark Yudof thinks of pancakes, pastrami sandwiches and the new "Harry Potter" movie, there's a handy link on the lower-right side of the official UC budget page (www.universityofcalifornia.edu/budget/?p=783 ), or go directly to his Twitter page at @mark_yudof.

Such opinions might or might not be of interest – and Yudof, who earns a ton of money while his institution is getting cut to shreds, does tweet about issues related to the state of the university. But considering the circumstances, Yudof should be spending all his time making the case for the institution whose future is in jeopardy.

I am one of the better-paid faculty members at Cal, so the voters and the Legislature have the right to ask what I cost and what the state gets in return.

First, the simple finances. Since coming to UC, I've been author or co-author of more than $36 million in grants. Some of those grants went to professional organizations, and some of the funds were channeled to partner institutions, but more than $10 million went to Berkeley, my home campus. The way things work, UC gets roughly $1 in "overhead" for every $2 of grant money. That means that UC got approximately $3.3 million of overhead, free and clear, as a result of my grants over the years.

That's more than I've earned since coming to Cal. In other words, the university and the state come out ahead – my 25 years of teaching and research haven't cost taxpayers a cent. Moreover, my grants have provided Cal with graduate student support, postdoctorate salaries and tons of other things to the tune of more than $6 million. If I'm induced to leave because there's no staff support for my teaching or research, or because Cal salaries are subpar and I can do better elsewhere, UC and the state will actually lose money.

But my interest isn't money. The reason I'm a professor is that I care about my work, and my work is focused on helping the widely diverse population of California learn as much mathematics as possible. There's evidence that my work has made things better for kids and for teachers, and equally important, a mathematically literate population is a good thing for California and for the nation. That's the kind of contribution my colleagues in the Graduate School of Education are working on as well.

We're hardly unique; there are powerful contributions being made across the university. Where would Silicon Valley, the high-tech enclaves of Los Angeles or the California economy be without the intellectual contributions of Cal graduates? What about the enrichment to thousands upon thousands of people's lives from the kind of exposure to the humanities that all Cal undergrads are provided?

Every single department can point to ways that the state is richer, oft-times financially, always intellectually, for our efforts. The university generates much more income for the state than it gets.

It's time for people to understand what a precious resource UC is for the state, and how much it's in jeopardy.

If people like me are lured away, if young scholars see the dismal cuts at UC and figure that UC isn't the environment for them, then the university will be, as someone has said, "eating its seed corn." This way lies disaster.

Write your legislators and insist that they support what historically has been one of California's best investments. If we let UC become history, all of California loses.

Why isn't this being tweeted to the rooftops?

Alan H. Schoenfeld is an education professor at the University of California, Berkeley.