Category: Students’ Unions

  • The best and most rewarding study time possible

    The best and most rewarding study time possible

    About a decade ago now, there was a problem at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.

    Across a collection of STEM courses, there was a significant “achievement” (attainment/awarding) gap between marginalised groups (all religious minorities and non-White students) and privileged students (caucasian, non-Hispanic participants who were either Christian or had no religion).

    Psychology prof Markus Brauer had an idea. He’d previously undertaken research on social norms messaging – communicating to people that most of their peers hold certain pro-social attitudes or tend to engage in certain pro-social behaviours.

    He knew that communications shape people’s perceptions of what is common and socially acceptable, which in turn influences their own attitudes and behaviours.

    So he thought he’d try some on new students.

    He started by trying out posters in waiting rooms and teaching spaces, and then tried showing two groups of students a video – one saw an off-the-shelf explanation of bias and micro-aggressions, and another where lots of voxpopped students described the day to day benefits of diversity.

    Long story short? The latter “social norms” video had a strong, significant, positive effect on inclusive climate scores for students from marginalised backgrounds.

    They reported that their peers behaved more inclusively and treated them with more respect, and the effect was stronger for marginalised students than for privileged students.

    Then he tried it again. One group got to see the social norms video in their first scheduled class, and those students also got an email from the university’s Deputy Vice Chancellor for Diversity and Inclusion in week 7 of the semester, which reported positive findings from the university’s most recent climate survey and encouraged students to continue working toward an inclusive social climate.

    The other group had a short “pro-diversity” statement added to the syllabus that was distributed in paper format during the first class. That pro-diversity statement briefly mentioned the university’s commitment to diversity and inclusive excellence. Students in this group did not receive an email.

    As well as a whole bunch of perception effects, by the end of the semester the marginalised students in the latter group had significantly lower grades than privileged students. But in the norms video group, the achievement gap was completely eliminated – through better social cohesion.

    What goes on tour

    I was thinking about that little tale on both days of our brief study tour to Stockholm last month, where 20 or so UK student leaders (and the staff that support them) criss-crossed the city to meet with multiple student groups and associations to discuss their work.

    Just below the surface, on the trips there’s an endless search for the secret sauce. What makes this work? Why is this successful?

    Across our encounters in Stockholm, one of the big themes was “culture”. Gerry Johnson and Kevan Scholes’ Cultural Web isn’t a bad place to start.

    • Stories and symbols were everywhere in Stockholm – Uppsala and Lund’s student nations tell a story of deep-rooted student self-governance, while patches on student boilersuits mark both affiliation and achievement.
    • Rituals and routines were on offer too. Valborg (Walpurgis Eve) celebrations in Sweden bring students together in citywide festivities, and the routine of structured student influence meetings – where student representatives actively participate in decision-making – ensures that engagement isn’t just performative but institutionalised.
    • Organisational structures help too. A student ombuds system that provides legal advice and advocacy, sends the signal that rights – mine and yours – are as important as responsibilities. Students’ role in housing cooperatives demonstrate how deeply embedded student influence is too – giving students a tangible stake in their own living conditions. And plenty of structures that include circa 2k students feels “just right” in terms of self-governing student communities.
    • Control systems and power structures define the boundaries of student influence and how authority is distributed. Visibly giving student groups the job of welcome and induction – not “res life” professionals, “student engagement” teams or “events managers” – seems to matter. Causing student groups to lead on careers work – with professional staff behind the scenes, rather than front and centre – matters too.

    In conversation, culture came up in multiple ways. One of the things that lots of the groups and their offshoots mentioned was that they played a role in introducing students to Swedish student culture – for international students, home students who were first in family, or just new students in general who needed to know how things worked.

    It came up in both an academic context and a social context. In the former, the focus was on independent study and the relative lack of contact hours in the Swedish system – in the latter, through traditions like “spex” (comedic part-improv theatrical performances created and performed by students), students wearing boiler suits with patches, or “Gasques”, where where students dress up, sing traditional songs, and enjoy multiple courses of food alongside speeches and entertainment.

    But it also came up as a kind of excuse. As well as cracking out the XE app to work out how much better off students in Sweden tend to be, when we got vague answers to our questions interrogating the high, almost jaw-dropping levels of engagement in extracurricular responsibilities, both them and us were often putting it down to “the culture”.

    “It’s fun”, “it’s what we do here”, “we want to help people” were much more likely to be the answers on offer than the things our end expected – CV boosting, academic credit or remuneration.

    “Excuse” is a bit unfair – partly because one of the things that’s happened off the back of previous study tours is that delegates have brought home project ideas or new structures and plonked them into their university, the resultant failures often put down to a difference in culture.

    Maybe that’s reasonable, maybe not. But we can change culture, surely?

    Depth and breadth

    Whatever’s going on, the depth and breadth of student engagement in activity outside of the formal scope of their course in Sweden is breathtaking.

    At Stockholm’s School of Economics, the student association’s VP for Education told us that of the circa 1800 students enrolled, about 96 per cent are SU members – and 700 of them are “active”. I think I thought he meant “pitching up to stuff semi-regularly”, but on the next slide he meant ”have a position of responsibility”.

    At the KTH Royal Institute of Technology, the volunteers we met from Datasektion – the “chapter” for students studying data science courses – had similar stats, nestled in a much bigger university. We met them in their “chapter room” – something that felt like it was theirs rather than a page from a furniture catalogue. As they presented their slides, I started surfing around their website to count the roles. I soon gave up. There’s even a whole committee for keeping the chapter room clean – it’s their home, after all.

    Chatting to the tiny crew of staff at Stockholm University’s SU was a humbling experience. Every time we thought we’d got a grip on their structures, another set unfurled – councils, forums, sports groups, societies, project groups and hundreds of university-level reps shouldn’t be sustainable in a university of 30,000 students – but it is.

    Even at Södertörn University just south of the city – a former Högskola (university college) that’s as close as Sweden gets to a post-92, the numbers are wild. There’s reps for departments, reps for subjects, reps for university boards and working groups, reps that run the careers fair, and reps for the SU’s work environment, archives, finance and administration, graphic design, sustainability, communication, project management and student influence and impact.

    There’s even 30 odd students that run the pub – without a “grown up” in sight.

    It was probably the Doctoral chapter back at KTH that really did it for me. I don’t think it’s unfair to suggest that extracurricular activity and student representation for PhD students in the UK is fairly thin on the ground – in Sweden, not only is there a vision for PGR student life beyond the research and the survival, there are formal time compensation arrangements that support it.

    Maybe that’s why there’s branches, projects, EDI initiatives, careers support, international student events, ombudspeople, awards nights, trips, handbooks, student support and highly sophisticated research and lobbying. Actually, maybe that’s why Swedish PhD students are salaried at a level approaching those that supervise them – while our “New Deal” says nothing on student life or representation, and frames stipends equivalent to the minimum wage as an achievement.

    There’s many a student leader that’s returned to the UK and decided that they need an elected officer for every faculty, or to create a PGR “officer” or whatever, only to find that the culture in said university or faculty gives that student nothing to work with and little to organise.

    One of our new Swedish friends described that as “painting a branch a different colour – the tree will still be brown when the tree grows and the branch falls off”, as she impressively explained the way that students were recruited first to help, then later to take charge, building their confidence and skills along the way.

    Causes and effects

    Back in the UK, the sector often talks of how students have changed – as if their desires, preferences, activities or attitudes are outside of the gift of educational institutions – something to be marketed to rather than inculcated with.

    But every student I’ve ever met wants to fit in – to know the rules of the games, to know how things work around here, to know how to fit in. Maybe how they’re inducted and supported – and who does that induction and support – matters.

    Maybe it’s about age – students enrol into higher education later in Sweden. Maybe it’s about pace – in the standard three years, only about 40 per cent of bachelor’s students complete – add on three years, and “drop out” is as low as in the UK.

    Maybe it’s about a wider culture of associative activity – the UK always has been useless at sustaining mutuals, and our participation rates in them are near the bottom of the European tables.

    Maybe it’s the legislation – law that has given students the formal right to influence their own education and a panoply of associated rights without the tiresome discourse of consumerism or “what do they know” since the 1970s.

    Maybe it’s about trust. You soon spot when you visit a country how much its people are trusted when you jump on a train – “it must be because it’s so cheap” is what we tend to think, but maybe that lack of barriers and inspectors is about something else.

    Less than 4 in 10 staff in Swedish Universities are non-academic, far less than in the UK. Maybe we do so much for students in the UK because they need the help. Maybe we’ve convinced ourselves – both in universities and SUs – that they can’t or won’t do it on their own – or that if they did, they’d mess it up, or at least mess the metrics or the marketing up.

    In that endless search for the secret sauce, the research doesn’t help. In theses like this, the most common reasons for student volunteering in Sweden are improving things/helping people, meeting new people/making friends, developing skills, and gaining work experience/developing their CV. Like they are everywhere.

    International students, particularly those studying away from their home country, are more likely to volunteer as a way to make new social connections. Younger students tend to volunteer more frequently than older ones. And universities could encourage volunteering by increasing awareness, linking it to academic subjects, and offering rewards or networking opportunities​. We knew that already.

    But actually, maybe there’s something we didn’t know:

    Swedish students tend to volunteer because it is seen as normal rather than something extraordinary.

    And that takes us back to Wisconsin.

    Normal for Norfolk

    In this terrific podcast, Markus Brauer urges anyone in a university trying to “change the culture” to focus on the evidence. He says that traditional student culture change initiatives lack rigorous evaluation, rely on flawed assumptions, provoke resistance, and raise awareness without changing behaviour.

    He critiques approaches that focus on individual attitudes rather than systemic barriers, stressing that context and social norms – not just personal beliefs – shape behaviour. Negative, deficit-based framing alienates. And it’s positive, evidence-based, and systematic strategies – structural reforms, visible institutional commitments and peer modelling that really drive the change.

    Maybe that’s why each and every student leader we met had an engagement origin story that was about belonging.

    When I asked the International Officer at the Stockholm Student Law Association what would happen if a new student didn’t know how to approach an assignment, he was unequivocal – one of the “Fadder” students running the group social mentoring scheme would do the hard yards on the hidden curriculum.

    When I asked the Doctoral President at KTH how she first got involved, it was because someone had asked her to help out. The Education VP at the School of Economics? He went to an event, and figured it would be fun to help run it next time because he’d get to hang out with those that had run it for him. Now he runs a student-led study skills programme and gets alumni involved in helping students to succeed. Maybe it’s that. School plays sell out.

    Belonging has become quite important in HE in recent years. The human need to feel connected, valued, and part of something greater than ourselves has correlations with all sorts of things that are good. Belonging shapes students’ identities, impacts their well-being, enables them to take risks and overcome challenges with resilience.

    But since we’ve been putting out our research, something bad has been happening. Back in the UK, I keep coming across posters and social media graphics that say to students “you belong here”

    And that’s a problem, because something else we know is that when a student doesn’t feel like that and when there’s no scaffolding or investment to stimulate it, it can make students feel worse. Because the other thing we’ve noticed about how others in Europe do it is that it’s about doing things.

    Doing belonging

    The first aspect of that is that when students work together on something it allows us to value and hope for the success of others beyond their individual concerns. They want the project to succeed. We want the event to go well. They smile for the photos in a group.

    The second is that when they work in a group and they connect and contribute they’re suddenly not in competition, and so less likely to lose. When they’re proofing someone’s essay or planning a route for a treasure hunt, they’re not performing for their success – they’re performing for others.

    But the third is that they start to see themselves differently. Suddenly they’re not characterised by their characteristics, judged by their accent or ranked by their background. They start to transcend the labels and become the artist, the coach, the consultant or the cook.

    The folklore benefits of HE participation are well understood and hugely valuable to society. They’re about health, wellbeing, confidence, community mindedness and a respect for equality and diversity.

    In every country in the process of massifying, the debate about whether they’re imbued via the signalling of those that go (rather than those that don’t), or whether they’re imbued via the graduate attributes framework variously crowbarred into modules, or imbued simply via friendship or via the social mixing that seems so scarce in modern HE rages on.

    My guess is that it’s partly about having the time to do things – we make student life more and more efficient at our peril. It’s partly about giving things back to students that we’ve pretty much professionalised the belonging out of. It’s partly about scaffolding – finding structures that counterintuitively run against the centralisation rampant in the management of institutions and causing students to organise their communities in groups of the right size.

    Maybe it’s all of that, or some of it. Maybe some good social norming videos would help.

    But my best guess is not that higher education should show new students a manipulative video tricking them into the social proof that helping others is fun. It’s that seeing other students do things for them – and then asking them to get involved themselves – is both the only way to build belonging and community, and the only way to ensure that the benefits of participation extend beyond the transactional.

    When students witness peers actively shaping their environment, supporting each other, and making tangible contributions to their communities, they don’t just internalise the value of participation – they embody it. Creating the conditions where reciprocity feels natural, expected and rewarding is about making it natural, expected, and rewarding.

    The more HE massifies, the more the questions will come over the individual benefits to salary, the more the pressure will come on outcomes, and the more that some will see skills as something that’s cheaper to do outside of the sector than in it.

    If mass HE is to survive, its signature contribution in an ever-more divided world ought to be belonging, community and social cohesion. However hard it looks, that will mean weaning off engineering individual engagement from the top down – and starting to enable community engagement from the ground up.

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  • A sea change in student partnership

    A sea change in student partnership

    A few years back now, someone who worked for one of Scotland’s sector agencies liked to draw a comparison when talking about student-centredness.

    They said that conservation charities passionately place wildlife at the heart of everything they do, but crucially would never put representatives of flora and fauna on committees (imagine the mess).

    Therefore, my erstwhile and esteemed colleague would argue, when institutional leaders proudly claim to be “student-centred” it reveals nothing about how they involve students in shaping their experiences.

    Of course, you can diligently monitor wildlife and use your data to make good decisions, in a manner not dissimilar to learning analytics in education, but the difference is that students can then go on to be a part of conversations in a way that wildlife never can.

    Waterproof papers

    My mind was cast back to this parallel when I saw the recent news that the Scottish Association for Marine Science (SAMS), one of our partners here at the University of the Highlands and Islands (UHI), has put The Ocean on its governing body.

    It’s a move that SAMS’ Director Nick Owens admits “could be seen as trivial or ‘greenwashing’”, and we might imagine other specialist institutions making similar gestures in the disciplines they so richly embody and advance.

    For instance a conservatoire could put “Music” on their board, or an agricultural college “The Land”.

    Nick explains further, however:

    The Ocean is clearly a metaphor in this context and cannot represent itself in human terms.”

    That point is vital because, if we go back to our parallel, SAMS has already gone much further with its other main cause – students.

    Like all constituent parts of UHI and indeed our university overall, SAMS has student membership on its governing body, not to just sit there and wave like the ocean might, or to flap about disruptively like a bird among a wildlife charity’s trustees.

    Instead, we expect of student governors an informed, constructive and active contribution.

    As my colleague Aimee Cuthbert wrote on Wonkhe a year ago, we have a major project that is making that student membership truly effective and impactful across UHI’s complex governance arrangements.

    On a basic level we want to build on national guidelines such as Scotland’s codes of good governance for colleges and universities and support packages such as those from the College Development Network.

    The wet room

    In our own unique context we want to make sure UHI’s governing bodies do not merely talk about students as an abstract concept or worthy concern, and instead have them in the room to provide meaningful input about students’ diverse and complex experiences and the implications for students of the difficult decisions that must be made.

    That means a lot of work with those involved in our governing bodies, exploration of the key issues on our boards’ desks at a time of change, and helping our local officers impact on their individual partner governing bodies while also working together as a team to impact on decisions that are UHI-wide.

    A core part of our project is therefore that very human process of communication – supporting the networking, sharing practice and informal relationship building that makes student governors truly a part of the process in a way that an ocean can’t be.

    So, when someone tells you their institution is student-centred, that’s arguably the very least we might expect, and in isolation such a declaration risks viewing students in the same way that others might view wildlife.

    The Ocean as governor, therefore, is not only a striking metaphor for SAMS’ important mission, but has added power in benchmarking our perceptions of those we claim to be here for – reminding us that there’s a big difference between caring about students and actively involving them as partners.

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  • Bridget Phillipson reaffirms commitment to free speech

    Bridget Phillipson reaffirms commitment to free speech

    Secretary of State Bridget Phillipson has delivered a statement to Parliament on her regulatory approach to higher education – specifically, the future of the Higher Education (Freedom of Speech) Act.

    Ahead of her day in court with the Free Speech Union – which is taking her to court over her implementation pause – she announced that key provisions will be brought into force, whilst “burdensome provisions” will be scrapped.

    And the good news is that pretty much for the first time from a minister on this issue, there’s an explicit recognition of the fine lines, complexities and contradictions often in play on the issue. A press notice covers largely the same material.

    You’ll recall that on taking office back in July, Phillipson paused further commencement of the Act in response to “concerns raised by a cross section of voices” – and controversially, at least for some, a “source” branded the Act as passed a “Tory hate charter”.

    In the intro, Phillipson said she was still committed to ensuring the protection of academic freedom and free speech – “vital pillars” of the university system:

    Universities are spaces for debate, exploration, and the exchange of ideas, not for shutting down dissenting views… extensive engagement with academics, universities, students, and minority groups revealed concerns about unworkable duties, legal system burdens, and potential impacts on safety, particularly amid rising antisemitism on campuses.

    Insights from her work to consult with interested stakeholders (both for and against the act), says Phillipson, have shaped a “balanced, effective, and proportionate approach” to safeguard free speech while addressing minority welfare.

    What stays

    First up, the government will commence the following requirements currently in the act (in sections 1,2 and 6):

    • The duties on higher education providers to take reasonably practicable steps to secure and promote freedom of speech within the law
    • The duty on higher education providers to put in place a code of conduct [practice] on freedom of speech

    Those are relatively uncontroversial – most providers were preparing in that spirit already, although the (very) detailed suggestions on compliance previously proposed by OfS may yet change.

    Underpinning that, Phillipson also intends to commence the duties on the Office for Students (OfS) (section 5) to promote freedom of speech and the power to give advice and share best practice. And unsurprisingly, the ban on non-disclosure agreements for staff and students making complaints about bullying, harassment and sexual misconduct will also remain.

    There was a curious passage on the Director for Free Speech and Academic Freedom role – the Secretary of State said that she had “complete confidence” in Arif Ahmed who will be staying on – but then criticised how he’d been appointed, drawing on interim Chair David Behan’s review of the regulator that had recommended a look at how all OfS executive and board appointments should be made.

    She said will decide on the process of appointing directors to the independent regulator “shortly”.

    What’s going

    A couple of other measures were “not proportionate or necessary”, so she’ll be seeking repeal.

    The duties on students’ unions are to go – because they’re neither “equipped nor funded” to navigate such a complex regulatory environment, and are already regulated by the Charity Commission:

    But I fully expect students unions to protect lawful free speech, whether they agree with the views expressed or not, and expect providers to work closely with them to make sure that happens, to act decisively to make sure their students union complies with their free speech code of conduct.

    That effectively returns us to the Education Act 1986 position – of providers taking reasonably practicable steps to get their SU to comply – and sensibly removes the prospect of a new student being told about two codes of practice to follow depending on who they’d booked a room with.

    Most controversially for some, she will also repeal the legal tort, on the basis that it would have resulted in:

    Costly litigation that risks diverting resources away from students at a time when University finances are already strained – remaining routes of redress have plenty of teeth.

    Those pro the tort worry that that only leaves OfS’ powers to find as the compliance lever – although others worried that the threat of it would have resulted in more threatening letters than sensible, nuanced decisions.

    What’s changing

    On the OfS free speech complaints scheme, it will remain in place for university staff and visiting speakers – but there will be two changes. OfS will first be freed up to prioritise the more serious complaints – and be officially empowered to ignore others.

    And the government will remove the “confusing duplication” of complaint schemes for students. Students will be diverted to using the Office of the Independent Adjudicator (OIA, and OfS will take complaints from staff, external speakers and university members.

    That doesn’t quite remove the potential duplication of the two bodies considering the same incident or issue from different angles/complaints – but it’s a sensible start.

    And the government will also amend the mandatory condition of registration on providers to give OfS flexibility in how they apply those conditions to different types of providers – we’d expect that to cover issues like the obvious oversight of 14-year olds in FE colleges caught by the Act suddenly gaining free speech rights.

    The government says it will also take more time to consider implementation of the overseas funding measures in the act as it “works at pace” on the wider implementation of the foreign influence registration scheme that was part of the National Security Act 2023. Those two bits of legislation never felt properly aligned – so that also feels pretty sensible.

    In the debate that ensued, there was some lingering suspicion from the opposition that that all amounted to the government going soft on China – and regardless of the foreign funding clauses, there were some concerns from providers about the workability of the draft OfS guidance on the main duties re oppressive regimes and TNE. That will be one to watch.

    Finally, we will also get a policy paper to set out the proposals in more detail, potentially alongside a decision on information provision for overseas funding.

    What’s next

    As we signalled back in March, the interaction with allegations and incidents of antisemitism appears to have been a big influence on the decisions – the press notice reminds readers that there were fears that the legislation would encourage providers to “overlook” the safety and wellbeing of minority groups, including Jewish students, and instead protect those who use hateful or degrading speech on campus:

    Groups representing Jewish students also expressed concerns that sanctions could lead to providers overlooking the safety and well-being of minority groups.

    Phillipson even referenced the faux pas from Michelle Donelan way back in May 2021 when, on the day the Bill was launched, she was unable to explain how the government’s proposals would prevent Holocaust deniers coming to campus.

    Phillipson said that she could see “no good reason” why any university would invite a Holocaust denier onto campus to deny the overwhelming evidence that the Holocaust is an “appalling form of antisemitism”. Even when the last government had clarified the position on holocaust denial, it never confirmed that holocaust deniers could be banned – and the point about many external speaker edge cases is that they rarely fill the form in with “I’m going to say something unlawful”.

    There’s still a way to go yet on these (and other) fine lines – in the ensuing debate, Phillipson said that she was worried that the regime that was due to launch would have “unduly prioritized” free speech which is hateful or degrading over the interests of those who feel harassed and intimidated – these issues, she said, can be “very finely balanced”. That may well see a push from the SOS that the two sets of guidance – on OfS’ new Harassment and Sexual Misconduct duties, and the drafts on this regime, are integrated more sensibly.

    The ongoing questions surrounding the IHRA definition of antisemitism may also yet pop up again too – not least because of Arif Ahmed’s own apparent u-turn on it and the ensuing cases challenging its usage in disciplinary procedures. Questions of pro-Palestinian activism on camps and where that might stray into antisemitism were notably absent from OfS’ guidance drafts.

    Overall, some in the debate will be furious at the government’s apparent watering down of the Act, others will be pleased that some of the arguably more unworkable aspects are being amended.

    But probably the most important signal from Phillipson was a recognition that the area is complex and decisions often finely balanced – putting a degree of trust in universities (and their SUs) that they will also take it seriously.

    Whatever else has happened over the past few years, there’s plenty of evidence that understanding has improved in the sector – it looks it has in Whitehall too. The question now is whether, next time an incident or issue comes along, it is handled by a university (or its SU) in a way that commands confidence.

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