A couple of years ago I was asked to examine a PhD at a university out in Kazakhstan, and since I really love the place, having done some research out there a while ago (see one of my April posts), I could hardly pass up the chance to visit again. The thesis was on energy policy in Kazakhstan and was written in Russian. Luckily, I can read Russian quite well but I asked that my report be written in English as my written and spoken Russian are fairly basic. This was agreed.
Hence on a very hot morning in early June, I arrived in Almaty (the old, Soviet-era capital), a lovely town with lots of trees, surrounded by snowy mountains, and full of brand new buildings, reflecting the country's booming economy. Since then it has not been booming quite so strongly, as the banking sector was hit hard by the world financial crisis. But it's already recovering, I gather. The university was very welcoming, and there were a couple of free days before the formal business, during which I met several PhD students besides the one I was to examine and gave advice on their research when I could. The British consulate in Almaty (the embassy now being in the new capital, Astana) also held a reception one evening to mark the Queen's official birthday, so I was invited to that, having met the Ambassador on a previous visit to the country.
The formal business turned out to be unexpectedly interesting. A bit naively, I had tended to assume that everyone examined a PhD in pretty much the same way as we do in the UK, an unduly Anglo-centric view of the world I must admit. But not at all! For a start, the examination was quite public in the sense that the candidate, his family, various other students and diverse academics were present. The candidate gave a 15 minute presentation on his thesis, I then presented my own report (which had been translated into Russian), and this was followed by an hour or so of general discussion. It was hard for me to follow everything, but I managed well enough. Then the chairman asked everyone to leave except the four members of the examinations board, of which I was the external member. We discussed the thesis a little and agreed that it was a good piece of work, a clear pass.
Out of the blue, the chairman suddenly asked me what mark I wanted to give the thesis. I explained that in the UK we don't give marks for a PhD thesis. But that wasn't acceptable, so I proposed a mark in the low 70s per cent. This caused immediate consternation - the chairman informed me that such a mark was virtually a fail in their system. Eventually, I gathered that what the board was looking for was a mark in the range 95-100 per cent - no one had thought to explain their system to me, and I had just assumed it would be like ours. Now that I understood their system, however, I gave a mark of 96 per cent, and was amused to find that my mark was the lowest. One member of the board said very positively, "I give the maximum, 100 per cent." Amazing.
After the formal business a nice lunch was laid on for everyone, including the students and their families. Lots of soft drinks were on offer, but I was a bit surprised that there was no vodka. I mentioned this to the exam board chairman, and he explained that it wasn't like the old days when vodka was brought out on every occasion. Apparently there were new regulations about such matters. However, as I, the foreign guest, had mentioned this lacuna in the arrangements, the new rules could be suspended, and within a few seconds several bottles of vodka appeared. We then drank several toasts to " the success of the new PhDs", "the Kazakh economy" and "success for Kazakhstan in the 2010 football World Cup." You get the idea. That rounded off a very pleasant and interesting visit to Kazakhstan.
Saturday, 29 May 2010
Tuesday, 25 May 2010
Cuts in England - The first round
So now we know, higher education will not be immune from cuts in public spending, not that anyone really thought it would be. But I imagine lots of people were keeping their fingers firmly crossed until they heard the Queen's Speech earlier today, hoping the universities would be lucky, at least for now. A few months ago, the previous government had announced that for 2010-2011 it would make available through HEFCE sufficient funding to support an additional 20,000 student places in England. The Queen's Speech indicated that there would now be just 10,000 extra places, the other 10,000 being cancelled.
This is not a massive cut, but some universities might already have taken on some extra staff in anticipation of the additional students they envisaged admitting, and they will now experience some financial strain as a result. Other institutions, already under financial pressure, will have been looking to these extra students to ease their problems a little. And of course more potential students will be disappointed when they find there are no places available to them later this year. Thus even this quite small funding cut will leave a trail of financially stressed institutions in its wake, plus unhappy would-be students. And this is only the first round of what is likely to be a succession of cuts over the coming years, as the country strives to restore its public finances to something like balance.
On the face of it, therefore, the outlook for higher education is quite bleak, and not only in England but also in the rest of the UK. However, I am an optimist by nature, and I think that endless worrying about where the next cuts might fall in the coming years is a sure recipe for depression, low morale, and general gloom across higher education. Instead, it seems far better to accept the unpleasant reality of cuts as quickly as we can, and start looking forward constructively to the sort of higher education system that will be able to flourish in the new conditions. Such a system, I would expect, will have a lot in common with where we are today, so the tendency to panic and engage in apocalyptic fantasies is hardly justified. So how might our HE system change - both in England and in the UK as a whole? Here are few initial thoughts, all needing lots of elaboration (but not today):
(a) The system might be somewhat smaller, conceivably 5-10% smaller in terms of student numbers by 2015 or so. Watch out for mergers, possibly even the occasional closure of a university.
(b) The system could adapt to the financial pressure by teaching more and more students 'on the cheap', but I doubt (and hope) that this would prove self defeating and politically unacceptable. In a world of fees, universities cannot ignore student views about the quality of their experience, and nor should they. But delivering a high quality of teaching is not cheap.
(c) Personally, I think that universities have probably reached a point where they are rather over managed, even excessively micro managed, and I'm convinced that modest savings are achievable in that area without detriment to students. Some other costs might be cut back, but I suspect not easily or by much.
(d) Hence the best way forward must be to seek new forms of additional revenue. This could come through non-EU students (paying high fees), through research and contracts, through other commercial activity, and through fees paid by UK students - preferably not up front, and ideally paid for through an income-contingent graduate contribution (extending the present English system). Another source of funding, not much used in the UK except by a handful of leading institutions, is private donations - we really need to create a culture more akin to that in the US where it is more usual for alumni and private businesses to make donations and offer sponsorship to universities.
How we manage all this, especially (d), is not yet very clear to me. But I'm sure when we survey the higher education landscape in five to ten years' time, we shall find that the most flourishing institutions will be those that have treated the cuts that are just beginning as an opportunity for change and innovation, and even growth, rather than as an excuse for endless griping at the government. Of course the environment is going to be difficult, but let's take it as a challenge, not as a threat!
This is not a massive cut, but some universities might already have taken on some extra staff in anticipation of the additional students they envisaged admitting, and they will now experience some financial strain as a result. Other institutions, already under financial pressure, will have been looking to these extra students to ease their problems a little. And of course more potential students will be disappointed when they find there are no places available to them later this year. Thus even this quite small funding cut will leave a trail of financially stressed institutions in its wake, plus unhappy would-be students. And this is only the first round of what is likely to be a succession of cuts over the coming years, as the country strives to restore its public finances to something like balance.
On the face of it, therefore, the outlook for higher education is quite bleak, and not only in England but also in the rest of the UK. However, I am an optimist by nature, and I think that endless worrying about where the next cuts might fall in the coming years is a sure recipe for depression, low morale, and general gloom across higher education. Instead, it seems far better to accept the unpleasant reality of cuts as quickly as we can, and start looking forward constructively to the sort of higher education system that will be able to flourish in the new conditions. Such a system, I would expect, will have a lot in common with where we are today, so the tendency to panic and engage in apocalyptic fantasies is hardly justified. So how might our HE system change - both in England and in the UK as a whole? Here are few initial thoughts, all needing lots of elaboration (but not today):
(a) The system might be somewhat smaller, conceivably 5-10% smaller in terms of student numbers by 2015 or so. Watch out for mergers, possibly even the occasional closure of a university.
(b) The system could adapt to the financial pressure by teaching more and more students 'on the cheap', but I doubt (and hope) that this would prove self defeating and politically unacceptable. In a world of fees, universities cannot ignore student views about the quality of their experience, and nor should they. But delivering a high quality of teaching is not cheap.
(c) Personally, I think that universities have probably reached a point where they are rather over managed, even excessively micro managed, and I'm convinced that modest savings are achievable in that area without detriment to students. Some other costs might be cut back, but I suspect not easily or by much.
(d) Hence the best way forward must be to seek new forms of additional revenue. This could come through non-EU students (paying high fees), through research and contracts, through other commercial activity, and through fees paid by UK students - preferably not up front, and ideally paid for through an income-contingent graduate contribution (extending the present English system). Another source of funding, not much used in the UK except by a handful of leading institutions, is private donations - we really need to create a culture more akin to that in the US where it is more usual for alumni and private businesses to make donations and offer sponsorship to universities.
How we manage all this, especially (d), is not yet very clear to me. But I'm sure when we survey the higher education landscape in five to ten years' time, we shall find that the most flourishing institutions will be those that have treated the cuts that are just beginning as an opportunity for change and innovation, and even growth, rather than as an excuse for endless griping at the government. Of course the environment is going to be difficult, but let's take it as a challenge, not as a threat!
Saturday, 22 May 2010
Who should go to university?
The short answer, I suppose, is 'anyone who is suitably qualified and who can benefit from the experience of studying for a degree.' The required qualifications depend on the chosen degree programme and university, and these days can easily be found on institutional websites. As for the second part of the answer, 'who can benefit....', one would think in terms of motivation, willingness to work hard (no one ever said that university study was supposed to be easy - though occasionally I have encountered students still harbouring such a misconception), and a fair amount of self confidence. One should also never forget the crucial factors of luck and serendipity in influencing both which university to apply for and attend, and the course to pursue.
In my own case, for instance, no one in my family had ever been to university before and it was hard to find out much about them in pre-internet days - I was applying in 1963 to start university in 1964. So where should I go? The only university I knew anything about was Hull, my local institution, but most of us at that stage at my school were thinking of going somewhere away from home. I don't think we were especially rebellious, but getting away was definitely seen as an important part of growing up. So we had nothing against Hull except that it was home.
As it happened I had two particularly good maths teachers, one who had studied at Cambridge, the other with a degree from Manchester. They each told me that their respective universities were good for maths, and as I certainly had no reason to dispute their judgement, I applied for both. My school qualifications (including Latin, still needed for Cambridge then), all top grades, got me a quick offer from Manchester, but Cambridge turned me down - in those days no reasons were ever given, and perhaps that is still the position. However, I still had the option of applying for Cambridge directly and taking their own entrance examination, and this is what I decided to do. This, and my entrance interview, took place in Cambridge on a couple of damp, cold, November days that made the whole place look quite grim and unwelcoming. Some weeks later I heard that I had been accepted. I immediately left school, got a job and worked for nine months before starting my studies - more on this in a later post.
My parents were delighted as Cambridge was a university they had heard of, so they thought it was probably OK to go there. My mother even thought that I might meet a princess, but I never did - in that respect my years in Cambridge were not a success.
Not everyone follows the conventional route into university that I did. All sorts of personal, family, health and other reasons can get in the way of gaining the standard qualifications at the 'normal' time. At age 18 or 19, some people simply lack the motivation to take their studies any further, even if they clearly have the necessary ability. Many people lack the confidence, or imagine they might not fit into a university environment. Some schools - that should know better - are reluctant to encourage even their better pupils to apply to university, let alone to the top institutions. And without that crucial support, opportunities are missed, talent wasted or not developed to its full potential.
For these reasons, the widening availability of so called 'access courses', mostly run in Further Education (FE) colleges and often in partnership with a local university is a hugely important step forward. Lots of people who didn't do well enough at school - for whatever reason, it doesn't really matter - get a second chance to gain the qualifications needed for university entry. Access courses don't generally seek to replicate the material that would have normally been done in secondary school, but they do develop English, Maths, IT and other foundation subjects that are vital for most university courses. Successful students from these programmes are older and usually more mature than the typical school-leaver students, and are often very highly motivated to succeed. They do well.
This part of the 'access agenda' is therefore very valuable and easy to support. Another aspect, however, is more problematic, in my view. Our universities, especially the leading ones, are often criticised for taking 'too few' students from state schools as opposed to private ones; and for taking too few from certain relatively deprived areas of the country. Some funding is even available to encourage (or 'incentivise', to use a horrible modern term) them to give more weight in their admissions criteria to indicators of deprivation. It's not hard to see a rationale for this sort of approach, but it seems to me to be a very dangerous, slippery slope, that tries to put right one sort of injustice by creating new ones. I don't think it is, or should be, any part of the duty of a university to assist the government in the conduct of social policy. That's not what universities are there for, surely.
If the government thinks that secondary schools in some areas are failing in some sense, then it should be taking direct and appropriate action to remedy the identified deficiencies. Meanwhile, our universities should concentrate on their core tasks of educating suitably qualified students to first degree level and beyond. That's what the country needs.
In my own case, for instance, no one in my family had ever been to university before and it was hard to find out much about them in pre-internet days - I was applying in 1963 to start university in 1964. So where should I go? The only university I knew anything about was Hull, my local institution, but most of us at that stage at my school were thinking of going somewhere away from home. I don't think we were especially rebellious, but getting away was definitely seen as an important part of growing up. So we had nothing against Hull except that it was home.
As it happened I had two particularly good maths teachers, one who had studied at Cambridge, the other with a degree from Manchester. They each told me that their respective universities were good for maths, and as I certainly had no reason to dispute their judgement, I applied for both. My school qualifications (including Latin, still needed for Cambridge then), all top grades, got me a quick offer from Manchester, but Cambridge turned me down - in those days no reasons were ever given, and perhaps that is still the position. However, I still had the option of applying for Cambridge directly and taking their own entrance examination, and this is what I decided to do. This, and my entrance interview, took place in Cambridge on a couple of damp, cold, November days that made the whole place look quite grim and unwelcoming. Some weeks later I heard that I had been accepted. I immediately left school, got a job and worked for nine months before starting my studies - more on this in a later post.
My parents were delighted as Cambridge was a university they had heard of, so they thought it was probably OK to go there. My mother even thought that I might meet a princess, but I never did - in that respect my years in Cambridge were not a success.
Not everyone follows the conventional route into university that I did. All sorts of personal, family, health and other reasons can get in the way of gaining the standard qualifications at the 'normal' time. At age 18 or 19, some people simply lack the motivation to take their studies any further, even if they clearly have the necessary ability. Many people lack the confidence, or imagine they might not fit into a university environment. Some schools - that should know better - are reluctant to encourage even their better pupils to apply to university, let alone to the top institutions. And without that crucial support, opportunities are missed, talent wasted or not developed to its full potential.
For these reasons, the widening availability of so called 'access courses', mostly run in Further Education (FE) colleges and often in partnership with a local university is a hugely important step forward. Lots of people who didn't do well enough at school - for whatever reason, it doesn't really matter - get a second chance to gain the qualifications needed for university entry. Access courses don't generally seek to replicate the material that would have normally been done in secondary school, but they do develop English, Maths, IT and other foundation subjects that are vital for most university courses. Successful students from these programmes are older and usually more mature than the typical school-leaver students, and are often very highly motivated to succeed. They do well.
This part of the 'access agenda' is therefore very valuable and easy to support. Another aspect, however, is more problematic, in my view. Our universities, especially the leading ones, are often criticised for taking 'too few' students from state schools as opposed to private ones; and for taking too few from certain relatively deprived areas of the country. Some funding is even available to encourage (or 'incentivise', to use a horrible modern term) them to give more weight in their admissions criteria to indicators of deprivation. It's not hard to see a rationale for this sort of approach, but it seems to me to be a very dangerous, slippery slope, that tries to put right one sort of injustice by creating new ones. I don't think it is, or should be, any part of the duty of a university to assist the government in the conduct of social policy. That's not what universities are there for, surely.
If the government thinks that secondary schools in some areas are failing in some sense, then it should be taking direct and appropriate action to remedy the identified deficiencies. Meanwhile, our universities should concentrate on their core tasks of educating suitably qualified students to first degree level and beyond. That's what the country needs.
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