Category: Students

  • OfS’ understanding of the student interest requires improvement

    OfS’ understanding of the student interest requires improvement

    When the Office for Students’ (OfS) proposals for a new quality assessment system for England appeared in the inbox, I happened to be on a lunchbreak from delivering training at a students’ union.

    My own jaw had hit the floor several times during my initial skim of its 101 pages – and so to test the validity of my initial reactions, I attempted to explain, in good faith, the emerging system to the student leaders who had reappeared for the afternoon.

    Having explained that the regulator was hoping to provide students with a “clear view of the quality of teaching and learning” at the university, their first confusion was tied up in the idea that this was even possible in a university with 25,000 students and hundreds of degree courses.

    They’d assumed that some sort of dashboard might be produced that would help students differentiate between at least departments if not courses. When I explained that the “view” would largely be in the form of a single “medal” of Gold, Silver, Bronze or Requires improvement for the whole university, I was met with confusion.

    We’d spent some time before the break discussing the postgraduate student experience – including poor induction for international students, the lack of a policy on supervision for PGTs, and the isolation that PGRs had fed into the SU’s strategy exercise.

    When I explained that OfS was planning to introduce a PGT NSS in 2028 and then use that data in the TEF from 2030-31 – such that their university might not have the data taken into account until 2032-33 – I was met with derision. When I explained that PGRs may be incorporated from 2030–31 onwards, I was met with scorn.

    Keen to know how students might feed in, one officer asked how their views would be taken into account. I explained that as well as the NSS, the SU would have the option to create a written submission to provide contextual insight into the numbers. When one of them observed that “being honest in that will be a challenge given student numbers are falling and so is the SU’s funding”, the union’s voice coordinator (who’d been involved in the 2023 exercise) in the corner offered a wry smile.

    One of the officers – who’d had a rewarding time at the university pretty much despite their actual course – wanted to know if the system was going to tackle students like them not really feeling like they’d learned anything during their degree. Given the proposals’ intention to drop educational gain altogether, I moved on at this point. Young people have had enough of being let down.

    I’m not at home in my own home

    Back in February, you might recall that OfS published a summary of a programme of polling and focus groups that it had undertaken to understand what students wanted and needed from their higher education – and the extent to which they were getting it.

    At roughly the same time, it published proposals for a new initial Condition C5: Treating students fairly, to apply initially to newly registered providers, which drew on that research.

    As well as issues it had identified with things like contractual provisions, hidden costs and withdrawn offers, it was particularly concerned with the risk that students may take a decision about what and where to study based on false, misleading or exaggerated information.

    OfS’ own research into the Teaching Excellence Framework 2023 signals one of the culprits for that misleading. Polling by Savanta in April and May 2024, and follow-up focus groups with prospective undergraduates over the summer both showed that applicants consistently described TEF outcomes as too broad to be of real use for their specific course decisions.

    They wanted clarity about employability rates, continuation statistics, and job placements – but what they got instead was a single provider-wide badge. Many struggled to see meaningful differences between Gold and Silver, or to reconcile how radically different providers could both hold Gold.

    The evidence also showed that while a Gold award could reassure applicants, more than one in five students aware of their provider’s TEF rating disagreed that it was a fair reflection of their own experience. That credibility gap matters.

    If the TEF continues to offer a single label for an entire university, with data that are both dated and aggregated, there is a clear danger that students will once again be misled – this time not by hidden costs or unfair contracts, but by the regulatory tool that is supposed to help them make informed choices.

    You don’t know what I’m feeling

    Absolutely central to the TEF will remain results of the National Student Survey (NSS).

    OfS says that’s because “the NSS remains the only consistently collected, UK-wide dataset that directly captures students’ views on their teaching, learning, and academic support,” and because “its long-running use provides reliable benchmarked data which allows for meaningful comparison across providers and trends over time.”

    It stresses that the survey provides an important “direct line to student perceptions,” which balances outcomes data and adds depth to panel judgements. In other words, the NSS is positioned as an indispensable barometer of student experience in a system that otherwise leans heavily on outcomes.

    But set aside the fact that it surveys only those who make it to the final year of a full undergraduate degree. The NSS doesn’t ask whether students felt their course content was up to date with current scholarship and professional practice, or whether learning outcomes were coherent and built systematically across modules and years — both central expectations under B1 (Academic experience).

    It doesn’t check whether students received targeted support to close knowledge or skills gaps, or whether they were given clear help to avoid academic misconduct through essay planning, referencing, and understanding rules – requirements spelled out in the guidance to B2 (Resources, support and engagement). It also misses whether students were confident that staff were able to teach effectively online, and whether the learning environment – including hardware, software, internet reliability, and access to study spaces – actually enabled them to learn. Again, explicit in B2, but invisible in the survey.

    On assessment, the NSS asks about clarity, fairness, and usefulness of feedback, but it doesn’t cover whether assessment methods really tested what students had been taught, whether tasks felt valid for measuring the intended outcomes, or whether students believed their assessments prepared them for professional standards. Yet B4 (Assessment and awards) requires assessments to be valid and reliable, moderated, and robust against misconduct – areas NSS perceptions can’t evidence.

    I could go on. The survey provides snapshots of the learning experience but leaves out important perception checks on the coherence, currency, integrity, and fitness-for-purpose of teaching and learning, which the B conditions (and students) expect providers to secure.

    And crucially, OfS has chosen not to use the NSS questions on organisation and management in the future TEF at all. That’s despite its own 2025 press release highlighting it as one of the weakest-performing themes in the sector – just 78.5 per cent of students responded positively – and pointing out that disabled students in particular reported significantly worse experiences than their peers.

    OfS said then that “institutions across the sector could be doing more to ensure disabled students are getting the high quality higher education experience they are entitled to,” and noted that the gap between disabled and non-disabled students was growing in organisation and management. In other words, not only is the NSS not fit for purpose, OfS’ intended use of it isn’t either.

    I followed the voice, you gave to me

    In the 2023 iteration of the TEF, the independent student submission was supposed to be one of the most exciting innovations. It was billed as a crucial opportunity for providers’ students to tell their own story – not mediated through NSS data or provider spin, but directly and independently. In OfS’ words, the student submission provided “additional insights” that would strengthen the panel’s ability to judge whether teaching and learning really were excellent.

    In this consultation, OfS says it wants to “retain the option of student input,” but with tweaks. The headline change is that the student submission would no longer need to cover “student outcomes” – an area that SUs often struggled with given the technicalities of data and the lack of obvious levers for student involvement.

    On the surface, that looks like a kindness – but scratch beneath the surface, and it’s a red flag. Part of the point of Condition B2.2b is that providers must take all reasonable steps to ensure effective engagement with each cohort of students so that “those students succeed in and beyond higher education.”

    If students’ unions feel unable to comment on how the wider student experience enables (or obstructs) student success and progression, that’s not a reason to delete it from the student submission. It’s a sign that something is wrong with the way providers involve students in what’s done to understand and shape outcomes.

    The trouble is that the light touch response ignores the depth of feedback it has already commissioned and received. Both the IFF evaluation of TEF 2023 and OfS’ own survey of student contacts documented the serious problems that student reps and students’ unions faced.

    They said the submission window was far too short – dropping guidance in October, demanding a January deadline, colliding with elections, holidays, and strikes. They said the guidance was late, vague, inaccessible, and offered no examples. They said the template was too broad to be useful. They said the burden on small and under-resourced SUs was overwhelming, and even large ones had to divert staff time away from core activity.

    They described barriers to data access – patchy dashboards, GDPR excuses, lack of analytical support. They noted that almost a third didn’t feel fully free to say what they wanted, with some monitored by staff while writing. And they told OfS that the short, high-stakes process created self-censorship, strained relationships, and duplication without impact.

    The consultation documents brush most of that aside. Little in the proposals tackles the resourcing, timing, independence, or data access problems that students actually raised.

    I’m not at home in my own home

    OfS also proposes to commission “alternative forms of evidence” – like focus groups or online meetings – where students aren’t able to produce a written submission. The regulator’s claim is that this will reduce burden, increase consistency, and make it easier to secure independent student views.

    The focus group idea is especially odd. Student representatives’ main complaint wasn’t that they couldn’t find the words – it was that they lacked the time, resource, support, and independence to tell the truth. Running a one-off OfS focus group with a handful of students doesn’t solve that. It actively sidesteps the standard in B2 and the DAPs rules on embedding students in governance and representation structures.

    If a student body struggles to marshal the evidence and write the submission, the answer should be to ask whether the provider is genuinely complying with the regulatory conditions on student engagement. Farming the job out to OfS-run focus groups allows providers with weak student partnership arrangements to escape scrutiny – precisely the opposite of what the student submission was designed to do.

    The point is that the quality of a student submission is not just a “nice to have” extra insight for the TEF panel. It is, in itself, evidence of whether a provider is complying with Condition B2. It requires providers to take all reasonable steps to ensure effective engagement with each cohort of students, and says students should make an effective contribution to academic governance.

    If students can’t access data, don’t have the collective capacity to contribute, or are cowed into self-censorship, that is not just a TEF design flaw – it is B2 evidence of non-compliance. The fact that OfS has never linked student submission struggles to B2 is bizarre. Instead of drawing on the submissions as intelligence about engagement, the regulator has treated them as optional extras.

    The refusal to make that link is even stranger when compared to what came before. Under the old QAA Institutional Review process, the student written submission was long-established, resourced, and formative. SUs had months to prepare, could share drafts, and had the time and support to work with managers on solutions before a review team arrived. It meant students could be honest without the immediate risk of reputational harm, and providers had a chance to act before being judged.

    TEF 2023 was summative from the start, rushed and high-stakes, with no requirement on providers to demonstrate they had acted on feedback. The QAA model was designed with SUs and built around partnership – the TEF model was imposed by OfS and designed around panel efficiency. OfS has learned little from the feedback from those who submitted.

    But now I’ve gotta find my own

    While I’m on the subject of learning, we should finally consider how far the proposals have drifted from the lessons of Dame Shirley Pearce’s review. Back in 2019, her panel made a point of recording what students had said loud and clear – the lack of learning gain in TEF was a fundamental flaw.

    In fact, educational gain was the single most commonly requested addition to the framework, championed by students and their representatives who argued that without it, TEF risked reducing success to continuation and jobs.

    Students told the review they wanted a system that showed whether higher education was really developing their knowledge, skills, and personal growth. They wanted recognition of the confidence, resilience, and intellectual development that are as much the point of university as a payslip.

    Pearce’s panel agreed, recommending that Educational Gains should become a fourth formal aspect of TEF, encompassing both academic achievement and personal development. Crucially, the absence of a perfect national measure was not seen as a reason to ignore the issue. Providers, the panel said, should articulate their own ambitions and evidence of gain, in line with their mission, because failing to even try left a gaping hole at the heart of quality assessment.

    Fast forward to now, and OfS is proposing to abandon the concept entirely. To students and SUs who have been told for years that their views shape regulation, the move is a slap in the face. A regulator that once promised to capture the full richness of the student experience is now narrowing the lens to what can be benchmarked in spreadsheets. The result is a framework that tells students almost nothing about what they most want to know – whether their education will help them grow.

    You see the same lack of learning in the handling of extracurricular and co-curricular activity. For students, societies, volunteering, placements, and cocurricular opportunities are not optional extras but integral to how they build belonging, develop skills, and prepare for life beyond university. Access to these opportunities feature heavily in the Access and Participation Risk Register precisely because they matter to student success and because they’re a part of the educational offer in and of themselves.

    But in TEF 2023 OfS tied itself in knots over whether they “count” — at times allowing them in if narrowly framed as “educational”, at other times excluding them altogether. To students who know how much they learn outside of the lecture theatre, the distinction looked absurd. Now the killing off of educational gain excludes them all together.

    You should have listened

    Taken together, OfS has delivered a masterclass in demonstrating how little it has learned from students. As a result, the body that once promised to put student voice at the centre of regulation is in danger of constructing a TEF that is both incomplete and actively misleading.

    It’s a running theme – more evidence that OfS is not interested enough in genuinely empowering students. If students don’t know what they can, should, or could expect from their education – because the standards are vague, the metrics are aggregated, and the judgements are opaque – then their representatives won’t know either. And if their reps don’t know, their students’ union can’t effectively advocate for change.

    When the only judgements against standards that OfS is interested in come from OfS itself, delivered through a very narrow funnel of risk-based regulation, that funnel inevitably gets choked off through appeals to “reduced burden” and aggregated medals that tell students nothing meaningful about their actual course or experience. The result is a system that talks about student voice while systematically disempowering the very students it claims to serve.

    In the consultation, OfS says that it wants its new quality system to be recognised as compliant with the European Standards and Guidelines (ESG), which would in time allow it to seek membership of the European Quality Assurance Register (EQAR). That’s important for providers with international partnerships and recruitment ambitions, and for students given that ESG recognition underpins trust, mobility, and recognition across the European Higher Education Area.

    But OfS’ conditions don’t require co-design of the quality assurance framework itself, nor proof that student views shape outcomes. Its proposals expand student assessor roles in the TEF, but don’t guarantee systematic involvement in all external reviews or transparency of outcomes – both central to ESG. And as the ongoing QA-FIT project and ESU have argued, the next revision of the ESG is likely to push student engagement further, emphasising co-creation, culture, and demonstrable impact.

    If it does apply for EQAR recognition, our European peers will surely notice what English students already know – the gap between OfS’ rhetoric on student partnership and the reality of its actual understanding and actions is becoming impossible to ignore.

    When I told those student officers back on campus that their university would be spending £25,000 of their student fee income every time it has to take part in the exercise, their anger was palpable. When I added that according to the new OfS chair, Silver and Gold might enable higher fees, while Bronze or “Requires Improvement” might cap or further reduce their student numbers, they didn’t actually believe me.

    The student interest? Hardly.

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  • What happens when universities stop asking questions?

    What happens when universities stop asking questions?

    For the last 15 years, I have used my knowledge as a barrister and former university lecturer to advise students on their academic appeals and misconduct cases.

    In that time, I have seen the best and worst of student behaviour. I have dealt with students who paid others to write their entire PhDs and who recruited stand-ins to attend clinical placements.

    I have encountered countless methods of cheating, from tiny notes hidden in pockets, to phones concealed in toilets, to modified ear protectors.

    Only recently, a law student told me she had seen classmates slip earphones beneath their hijab during exams, whispering questions and receiving answers from a distant accomplice.

    The ethics of representation

    Occasionally, students ask me to act unethically on their behalf. I recall one student who had failed a resit exam and been withdrawn from his course.

    In a moment of panic, he told the university that his parents had been killed in a terrible accident shortly before his exam. He begged me to repeat the lie in my formal appeal statement to the university. I refused.

    As barristers, we will fight tooth and nail for our clients, whatever they have done, but only within the confines of the truth.

    I remember one Russian client who had paid someone to write every single essay and eventually been caught. I explained that the evidence against him was strong, that the prospects of success were slim, and that I could not advise him to lie to the university.

    He shook his head in disgust:

    What is wrong with this country? In Russia, we pay the professor and everything is okay!

    Recently, I had a conversation with a person – a non-lawyer – who had set up a university appeals business abroad. Like me, he had seen the underside of higher education.

    He told me that students regularly cheat in the English language proficiency tests required by universities as a condition of entry. These tests ensure that students have sufficient command of English to cope with academic study.

    According to him, cheating on these tests is widespread, with some companies approaching him directly with answers to the language tests.

    He explained that there were several “university appeal services” in his home country offering forged medical certificates. They also provide fabricated “essay notes” for students wishing to convince their universities they had worked on an assignment.

    With a plausible medical note or a set of backdated essay drafts, a dishonest student can present a convincing case for leniency or mitigation.

    Despite many years in the business, I was horrified by these revelations. I searched online and quickly found websites that sell fake tests. Thus, Legit Certify states:

    We help you legally obtain an official, verifiable TOEFL certificate without taking the test…The certificate is identical to one earned through exams, fully accepted by universities…

    And DoctorsNoteStore.com offers, or £10.99:

    …fake/replica sick notes in the United Kingdom and Australia.

    Are universities aware of this? Do they know that some of their international students gain admission, or overturn decisions, on the basis of falsified or manipulated documents? What checks do they make to ensure the authenticity of medical and other documentary evidence?

    Conflicts of interest

    With 40 per cent of English universities in financial deficit, there is also the uncomfortable question of money. The revenue from international students is so significant that many institutions may struggle to survive without it.

    This financial dependence creates a conflict of interest. If a university uncovers widespread cheating in English language tests, or if it learns that students gained entry or remained on a course with false credentials, how should it react? If it investigates properly, the findings may threaten the much-needed flow of income.

    Handling the growing number of cases of misconduct and appeals is itself resource-intensive and costly. A professor friend of mine, who examines PhDs, told me that he never fails a PhD student because, in his words, “it’s not worth the hassle of an inevitable appeal”.

    A university that turns a blind eye may preserve the balance sheet but corrodes academic standards.

    Some universities take the issue seriously. They invest in resources to detect cheating, run hundreds of misconduct panel hearings, and occasionally expel students. However, I doubt all institutions appreciate the scale of the problem or the sophistication of the cheating industry.

    There is an international trade in dishonesty that exploits the pressure on students to succeed and the reluctance of universities to jeopardise their financial health and reputation.

    If universities are not already alive to this reality, they need to wake up. Every forged medical letter that passes unchecked, every essay or thesis written by a ghostwriter, every fraudulent placement report that slips through the net, undermines the credibility of the institution and the degree it awards.

    Paying the price

    The harm is not limited to universities themselves. Employers, patients, clients and the public at large may pay the price if unqualified or dishonest graduates enter professional roles. Who wants to hire a lawyer or engineer who cheated in their exams, or be treated by a doctor who paid someone to attend clinical placements for them?

    The purpose of higher education is not simply to hand out degrees in exchange for fees but to cultivate knowledge and skill, to educate. If universities fail to address the growing industry of deception, they risk betraying that purpose.

    The question is not whether students cheat – they plainly do and probably more than ever before with the advent of generative AI – but whether universities have the courage to confront it, even at the cost of short-term financial loss and reputational damage.

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  • 10+ Years of Lasting Impact and Local Commitment

    10+ Years of Lasting Impact and Local Commitment

    Over 60,000 students have benefited from the math program built on how the brain naturally learns

    A new analysis shows that students using ST Math at Phillips 66-funded schools are achieving more than twice the annual growth in math performance compared to their peers. A recent analysis by MIND Research Institute, which included 3,240 students in grades 3-5 across 23 schools, found that this accelerated growth gave these schools a 12.4 percentile point advantage in spring 2024 state math rankings.

    These significant outcomes are the result of a more than 10-year partnership between Phillips 66 and MIND Research Institute. This collaboration has brought ST Math, created by MIND Education, the only PreK–8 supplemental math program built on the science of how the brain learns, fully funded to 126 schools, 23 districts, and more than 60,000 students nationwide. ST Math empowers students to explore, make sense of, and build lasting confidence in math through visual problem-solving.

    “Our elementary students love JiJi and ST Math! Students are building perseverance and a deep conceptual understanding of math while having fun,” said Kim Anthony, Executive Director of Elementary Education, Billings Public Schools. “By working through engaging puzzles, students are not only fostering a growth mindset and resilience in problem-solving, they’re learning critical math concepts.”

    The initiative began in 2014 as Phillips 66 sought a STEM education partner that could deliver measurable outcomes at scale. Since then, the relationship has grown steadily, and now, Phillips 66 funds 100% of the ST Math program in communities near its facilities in California, Washington, Montana, Oklahoma, Texas, Illinois, and New Jersey. Once involved, schools rarely leave the program.

    To complement the in-class use of ST Math, Phillips 66 and MIND introduced Family Math Nights. These events, hosted at local schools, bring students, families, and Phillips 66 employee volunteers together for engaging, hands-on activities. The goal is to build math confidence in a fun, interactive setting and to equip parents with a deeper understanding of the ST Math program and new tools to support their child’s learning at home.

    “At Phillips 66, we believe in building lasting relationships with the communities we serve,” said Courtney Meadows, Manager of Social Impact at Phillips 66. “This partnership is more than a program. It’s a decade of consistent, community-rooted support to build the next generation of thinkers and improve lives through enriching educational experiences.”

    ST Math has been used by millions of students across the country and has a proven track record of delivering a fundamentally different approach to learning math. Through visual and interactive puzzles, the program breaks down math’s abstract language barriers to benefit all learners, including English Learners, Special Education students, and Gifted and Talented students.

    “ST Math offers a learning experience that’s natural, intuitive, and empowering—while driving measurable gains in math proficiency,” said Brett Woudenberg, CEO of MIND Education. “At MIND, we believe math is a gateway to brighter futures. We’re proud to partner with Phillips 66 in expanding access to high-quality math learning for thousands of students in their communities.”

    Explore how ST Math is creating an impact in Phillips 66 communities with this impact story: https://www.mindeducation.org/success-story/brazosport-isd-texas/

    About MIND Education
    MIND Education engages, motivates and challenges students towards mathematical success through its mission to mathematically equip all students to solve the world’s most challenging problems. MIND is the creator of ST Math, a pre-K–8 visual instructional program that leverages the brain’s innate spatial-temporal reasoning ability to solve mathematical problems; and InsightMath, a neuroscience-based K-6 curriculum that transforms student learning by teaching math the way every brain learns so all students are equipped to succeed. Since its inception in 1998, MIND Education and ST Math has served millions and millions of students across the country. Visit MINDEducation.org.

    About Phillips 66
    Phillips 66 (NYSE: PSX) is a leading integrated downstream energy provider that manufactures, transports and markets products that drive the global economy. The company’s portfolio includes Midstream, Chemicals, Refining, Marketing and Specialties, and Renewable Fuels businesses. Headquartered in Houston, Phillips 66 has employees around the globe who are committed to safely and reliably providing energy and improving lives while pursuing a lower-carbon future. For more information, visit phillips66.com or follow @Phillips66Co on LinkedIn.

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  • Islamophobia envoy – Campus Review

    Islamophobia envoy – Campus Review

    An anti-Islamophobia plan has recommended universities engage in an anti-racism framework to tackle an increase in Islamophobic hate on campuses.

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  • Born on Third Base | HESA

    Born on Third Base | HESA

    Cast your minds back to January of 2024, when the federal government suddenly decided that housing was an issue, international students were the problem and implemented a complicated and irritating-to-implement set of caps that were 35% lower nationally than for 2023 (and in Ontario significantly more than that). Then, in 2025 came another set of changes including a 10% cut in the national limit. And then, on top of that, a set of new conditions on post-graduate work visas were imposed which were specifically designed to depress demand for certain types of education.

    To the extent that the world outside post-secondary education absorbed this news and didn’t dismiss it outright because Ontario colleges in particular “deserved it” for pouring gasoline onto a housing shortage bonfire, the reaction to all this was: “boy, losing nearly half your international students is really going to lead to a financial pinch”. But this reaction was wrong in two ways. First, that 50-percent was an average – in most cases, institutions either saw drops that were either significantly higher or significantly lower than that. Partly, this was because the federal government designed the cap drop to hit provinces unequally (Ontario to the max and Quebec not at all, for instance) and part of it had to do with the fact that some provinces distributed the cap hit in some peculiar ways (see back here for an earlier blog on this).

    But second, and most importantly, not many institutions actually even met these significantly-lowered quotas. Talk to folks in institutions these days and they will tell you that it’s not that the caps are too low, but that demand for Canadian post-secondary has simply dried up: no one wants to come to Canada anymore. I believe this. Former Immigration Minister Marc Miller did a serious number on the reputation of Canada’s post-secondary. If you go around accusing institutions of fraud and deceit and imposing clampdowns on student visas (it wasn’t just the caps – visa processing times are up and visa refusal rates are rising too), foreign students might get the idea that the country doesn’t want them, and so they never apply in the first place. I am sure Marc Miller would deny ever wanting to dry up demand, but it is exactly what his ham-fisted, Attila-the-Hun in a China shop approach to student visas managed to achieve.

    (And still, so many bien-pensant people think Liberals are the good guys on higher education. Or think more federal involvement in the higher education file would be a good thing. God Save Us All.)

    Anyways, as a result of this, universities and colleges are in a funk and wondering if and when international students will come back and (partially) save their bacon, financially speaking. But what is shocking, to me at least, is how unbelievably passive the sector is. They are waiting for students to come. Just waiting. ‘Why don’t they come?’ people ask. ‘It’s that darn Marc Miller! Nothing we can do about it’.

    You see the problem with the international student industry in Canada is that institutions themselves never grew an overseas recruitment game the way UK and Australian institutions did. By the time Canadian institutions started thinking about the whole international-students-as-revenue thing, the feds had already created the student-to-permanent immigration pathway via our post-graduate work visas and the like. And then, when things got hotter, aggregators like ApplyBoard came along and made it so easy to attract students that a lot of Canadian institutions just never upped their ground game on student recruitment.

    You see, despite Canadian institutions’ tendency to congratulate themselves on their “international outlook” and their ability to attract international students, very few of them ever bothered to go deep either on recruitment tactics (spending time abroad, juicing the recruitment pipeline) or on paying attention to the international student experience on campus. Some did, of course, but I can count the number who would be considered on par with the top institutions in the anglosphere on one hand.

    When it comes to internationalization, Canada is the kid who was born on third base and thinks they hit a triple. So many unearned advantages. And so, when Attila-the-Minister came along and took away most of those unearned advantages, people did not know what to do. The simple answer – UP YOUR GROUND GAME IN A FEW KEY TARGET MARKETS FOR GOD’S SAKE – seems not to have been considered very widely.

    I suspect one of the reasons for this is a deeply unsexy one: internal funding formulas for non-academic units. You see, under the enshittification model that is widely prevalent in Canadian institutions (more so in universities than colleges, but the latter aren’t immune from it), when a budget crunch happens, everyone needs to cut back. And so, international units, far from being given more money to go fight for students in overseas markets, sometimes have to scale back their activities (or at least not increase them as they should). The idea that it takes money to make money does not fit easily with a budget model that bases this year’s budget on what you got last year plus or minus a percentage point or two.

    This is bananas, of course. Self-destructive, even. But even if you gave international offices more money, they wouldn’t necessarily know how to spend it. The born-on-third-base thing meant we never needed to fight that hard for international students – they just kind of showed up. The situation Canadian institutions are in right now requires a lot more bodies on the ground overseas, understanding individual city markets, developing relationships with schools and agents, and attending more fairs, in more cities and more countries. This is how Australia and the UK developed their international markets. We managed to skip a lot of that in the ‘10s. We are going to have to learn it now.

    The shock, pain and impact of both the visa caps and Marc Miller setting fire to the country’s reputation are all real. Never forgive, never forget (but also: never again wish for the federal government to be more active in post-secondary education). But institutions are not without agency here. My feeling is that in too many cases they are just throwing up their hands, either because they prefer not to spend on recruitment or are insufficiently skilled at doing so in the absence of a cuddly national image or an absurdly favorable visa system.  

    You want markets? Invest in them. Fight for them. If Canadian post-secondary education is as good as everyone claims it is, students will come. Passiveness helps no one.

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  • Europe’s cautionary merger tales through student eyes

    Europe’s cautionary merger tales through student eyes

    I can’t be the only person who, on reading the press releases, was confused about what Kent and Greenwich are actually planning.

    The releases call it a “trailblazing” collaboration that will “bring both institutions under one structure” – with one unified governing body, academic board and executive team, and one vice chancellor.

    At the same time, students will continue to apply to, study at and graduate from their chosen university, and Kent’s FAQ reassures that “nothing will change for the foreseeable future” and that the “day-to-day experience will remain the same.”

    So which is it – one provider with two brands, or two universities with some shared services? And will change be felt on the ground, or just in the cloud?

    The messaging is a masterclass in cakeism – implying all the efficiency benefits of merger with none of the disruption costs, all the scale advantages of integration with none of the identity losses, and all the governance streamlining of unification with none of the democratic deficits.

    Maybe the most positive spin possible is inevitable when at least one of the partners is in financial strife.

    But the apparent contradictions matter – because while a “single spine, shared standards, separate shopfronts” model may be novel in UK terms, it’s one of many hybrid approaches that plenty of European universities have been experimenting with for over a decade.

    Frustratingly, there’s never been much research that might help us learn lessons from the seemingly constant process of group consolidation and (sometimes quasi-)merger in UK further education since incorporation in the 1990s.

    There’s not even been much analysis on the reshaping of Welsh HE in the last decade following then Welsh Education Minister Leighton Andrews’ “urge to merge” – at least not that’s focussed on the upsides or otherwise for students.

    But on the wider continent, the last two decades have witnessed what Pedro Teixeira from the University of Porto describes as a “surge” in university mergers – close to 130 cases since 2000, according to the European University Association’s comprehensive merger tool.

    Many of these have involved the kind of complex institutional arrangements Kent and Greenwich seem to be proposing – shared governance with retained identities, unified back-office functions with separate student-facing brands, promises of continuity alongside fundamental structural change.

    For all the grand pronouncements about “trailblazing models” and “world-class institutions”, the European experience repeatedly tells a more mundane story – one where student consultation means performative surveys that don’t produce policy changes, where staff meetings devolve into ideological standoffs over academic direction, and where promised synergies dissolve into territorial disputes between competing institutional cultures and administrative hierarchies.

    So the good news is that Kent-Greenwich, and all the others that may follow, can potentially learn from them all.

    Et s’il fallait le faire

    What happens when political ambition meets student reality? France’s merger programme (2009-2020) aimed to create globally competitive “super-universities” capable of challenging MIT and Stanford. The result was students describing a “loss of soul” during extended integration periods.

    The University of Paris-Saclay (2018-2020) – Emmanuel Macron’s flagship answer to MIT – united 19 institutions covering 15 per cent of France’s research output. Students at UVSQ linked their opposition to wider concerns about precarity and democracy.

    Student organiser Tristan Peglion argued that the university’s board should be “on the side of students rather than international rankings,” while protesters complained that “things aren’t clear.” Even the French National Assembly acknowledged that student consultation was “far from smooth”.

    Students experienced administrative confusion creating parallel systems that operated simultaneously for years, while the emphasis on research excellence meant undergraduate teaching quality became secondary to international profile development.

    And at Aix-Marseille University (2012), students faced tougher academic rules as the university standardised policies by adopting the most restrictive options from across departments, while student support services were cut through mergers and downsizing.

    The HCERES (Council for the Evaluation of Research and Higher Education) assessments systematically documented that undergraduate student experience deteriorated while research infrastructure received priority investment.

    When institutional transformation prioritises external prestige over internal community welfare, it looks like students pay the price – through reduced support, increased confusion, and weakened engagement and participation.

    Hard rock hallelujah

    Even the celebrated success stories leave students struggling with fragmentation and volatility. Finland’s Aalto University (2010) is probably the country’s most celebrated merger, backed by substantial government funding and political commitment.

    But students experienced years of uncertainty about curriculum changes, administrative confusion as three different systems were gradually integrated, and campus integration challenges.

    After more than a decade, student satisfaction remained volatile throughout integration, and cultural integration remained incomplete years after formal merger.

    The University of Tampere merger (2019) offers up some more recent evidence. Students described a sense of institutional disconnection during the process, more administrative confusion with parallel systems operating simultaneously, and faced inconsistent treatment between students from different legacy institutions.

    The University of Eastern Finland suggests that mergers can create:

    …a site of contestation where different organisational identities, values and histories collided, leaving the new university struggling to define itself.

    The Finnish experience contains some uncomfortable truths – merger benefits are not automatic, cultural integration can’t be forced through administrative restructuring, and student experience can suffer for years during transition periods.

    If the Finns – with their additional funding, careful planning, and institutional commitment – struggled with these challenges, what does that suggest for UK mergers driven by financial pressures?

    Like a satellite

    If you were planning a merger, you’d want to avoid students being left orbiting inefficiently around duplicated services, never quite connecting.

    The creation of the University of Duisburg-Essen tells a story of efficiency-focused consolidation that can create persistent practical problems for students. Rather than streamlined admin, the merger created duplicated services requiring constant coordination between sites.

    Student support services, IT help desks, and academic administration operated in parallel, creating confusion about procedures and reducing overall responsiveness. Academic staff spent significant time travelling between campuses, reducing their availability for tutorials, office hours, and research supervision.

    Students studying identical programmes experienced different levels of access to laboratories, specialist software, and research equipment depending on their campus location. Library resources and study spaces required duplication, straining budgets and reducing overall provision quality.

    Graduate employment suffered from employer confusion about degree equivalence and institutional reputation, while professional accreditation processes became more complex across multiple sites. And twenty years later, student satisfaction consistently remains below sector averages – while admin costs exceed initial projections.

    It seems that efficiency-focused consolidation often creates complexity rather than simplification, with students bearing the cost through reduced support and service quality.

    Fly on the wings of love

    Let’s try to avoid students becoming casualties of administrative chaos when comprehensive reform creates systematic disruption.

    Denmark’s 2007 reforms reduced 12 universities to 8 while simultaneously integrating government research institutes. The scale and speed created chaos in student-facing services that persisted for years.

    Multiple exam registration systems operated simultaneously, while student records and transcripts became scattered across different databases. Online learning platforms remained inconsistent between campuses and faculties, with digital resource access unreliable. Students faced years of uncertainty about academic regulations, with different rules on extensions and appeals persisting in parallel.

    After an initial period, students were forced to travel between campuses for different programme elements, with accommodation and living costs increasing given housing market disruption.

    Especially concerning was the marginalisation of student voice during implementation. Student representative structures were disrupted by constant organisational change, while administrative focus on merger implementation diverted attention from student concerns.

    General assurances about “no student disadvantage” proved meaningless in practice.

    This comprehensive, rapid merger programme created problems too complex for institutional management to handle effectively – and often, students became casualties of administrative chaos.

    We were the rock ‘n’ roll kids

    Federal structures often promise innovation – but if you’re not careful, can also reproduce old hierarchies and inequality.

    New Technological Universities (TUs) in Ireland are higher education institutions formed by the merging Institutes of Technology under the Technological Universities Act 2018. TUs were established to strengthen Ireland’s higher education sector, address regional disparities, and improve alignment with social and economic needs.

    TU Dublin’s experience merging three institutions initially appeared promising, with campus-level autonomy preserved while creating unified strategic direction. But Quality and Qualifications Ireland reviews document persistent inequalities between campuses.

    Timetabling systems remained inconsistent and student support services varied significantly across different sites. Professional placement coordination remained uneven between programmes, while staff expertise distribution being uneven across campuses affected programme quality and academic support availability.

    Student representation structures needed a complete redesign for multi-campus operation, and campus-level student voice was weakened by centralisation pressures. The students’ union faced particular challenges coordinating activity across geographic separation – with representation structures favouring larger campuses through practical accessibility advantages.

    Despite regulatory oversight emphasising student equality and equivalence, resource allocation formulas continued favouring established campuses, and services remained inconsistent between sites. Transport and accessibility issues also created lasting barriers for some student populations.

    It looks like federal governance models can work – but require sustained attention to equality and democratic participation. And explicit equivalence commitments clearly need robust monitoring arrangements to prevent campus hierarchies from emerging.

    J’entends la voix

    Geography can silence the voice that should be heard. Nordic merger experiences in recent decades suggest that geographic dispersion can exclude students on peripheral campuses from institutional decision-making and identity formation.

    In Norway’s 00s and 10s mergers, students on rural and smaller campuses consistently felt excluded, with geographic barriers creating social and academic isolation, while cultural differences became marginalised by “urban-dominated” institutional culture.

    Student participation suffered through geographic barriers limiting effective participation in democratic structures. Travel funding proved inadequate for equal representation across all sites, and administrative complexity overwhelmed student representative capacity.

    Meanwhile in Sweden, students on peripheral campuses faced systematic disadvantage unless specific measures addressed transport, accommodation, and coordination costs. The research suggests that merger processes accidentally recreated “colonial” relationships between central and peripheral locations.

    Research concluded that when mergers are implemented to achieve political or financial rather than educational goals, student welfare can become secondary to policy success metrics, with rapid integration timelines preventing the gradual relationship building that’s necessary for successful multi-campus cooperation.

    It looks like geographic integration requires explicit investment in coordination infrastructure – and can’t rely on efficiency assumptions that may prove false in practice.

    Sanomi

    When institutions can’t speak the same language, students can pay the price through communication breakdown.

    The University of Antwerp’s three-institution merger in the late 2010s required efficiency-focused implementation that affected student support services, with different institutional cultures requiring extended integration periods. Students experienced particular difficulties during the harmonisation of academic regulations, which created all sorts of inconsistencies in assessment and progression requirements.

    And in Lisbon in 2013, the University of Lisbon (ULisboa) was formed through the merger of two institutions – the original University of Lisbon and the Technical University of Lisbon (Universidade Técnica de Lisboa). The unification combined their academic resources, faculties, and research centers to create a single, larger university under the name ULisboa.

    University records and official notices show a prolonged drive to integrate legacy academic IT platforms – culminating in a project to implement a single system across the institution – and a staggered programme of regulation updates across schools. For a time, undergraduates encountered baffling parallel systems and non-uniform rules while harmonisation proceeded.

    Success clearly requires sustained attention to student experience throughout extended integration periods – rather than assuming that formal merger completion resolves underlying tensions all on its own.

    Come on, everybody, let’s sing along

    Tallinn University’s integration of over ten institutions through multiple phases over an extended timeline created constant uncertainty for students, with academic programme rationalisation affecting diverse disciplines over many years.

    Students experienced academic regulations that remained inconsistent across different institutional components, creating confusion about progression requirements and appeal procedures. Support services varied significantly in quality and accessibility between legacy units, with standardisation efforts often reducing rather than enhancing service levels. Nobody signs up for “levelling down”.

    It looks like extended merger processes can create prolonged uncertainty that undermines student experience and institutional effectiveness. Ongoing organisational change can prevent participation structures from stabilising, and reduces student capacity for effective advocacy and representation.

    Students can, in other words, become casualties of perpetual transition – with normal institutional development suspended during extended integration periods. Extended uncertainty seems to serve neither student interests nor institutional development – and ongoing change can prevent effective quality assurance and democratic accountability from functioning properly.

    Nothing about us without us

    So what does all this European evidence mean for Kent and Greenwich students, and anyone else in the coming months and years facing their own institutional transformation?

    The fundamental test of merged institutions’ democratic credentials lies not in reassuring rhetoric about consultation, “retention” of existing experiences, or “improvements” to the student experience, but in a willingness to resource meaningful student participation – involvement in decisions that will reshape the student experience for tens of thousands of people.

    European evidence demonstrates repeatedly that mergers done “to” students rather than “with” them establish patterns of institutional authoritarianism that persist long after the initial transformation. When student voices are marginalised during merger negotiations – dismissed as lacking technical expertise or operating on inappropriate timescales – the resulting institutions embed democratic deficits from their foundation.

    Much of merger planning is indeed complex, often presented as confidential and beyond student representative capacity. But that framing is itself political.

    The instinct to exclude students reflects familiar institutional prejudices – “they won’t be around long enough to engage as genuine partners,” “they’re not sophisticated enough to understand complex governance,” “they can’t be trusted with confidential information.” Each assumption reveals more about institutional mindset than the actual capacity of student representatives or their organisations.

    Students at Aalto University required years of advocacy – including formal complaints to Finland’s Chancellor of Justice – to secure basic language rights that should have been protected from the outset. In other examples, the failure wasn’t procedural but practical – student representatives were denied information and resources to engage meaningfully with complex negotiations.

    To learn the lessons in any future mergers in the UK, universities should establish dedicated funding to support enhanced SU capacity during transition – enabling SUs to gather and synthesise student input effectively. More importantly, SUs need actual power – not consultative status – on all merger-related governance bodies, with access to documentation and independent legal advice.

    Students will inevitably demand that all policies, services, and facilities be “levelled up” to the highest standard of either institution rather than harmonised to a convenient middle ground. It’ll be wise to factor that in early – enabling honest and early conversations about what will be standardised, what will be bespoked, when, and why.

    Regulators will need to both play, and be seen to play, an active role in student protection. In England, students “getting what they were promised” is both something it knows students are concerned about, but something it consistently appears to sideline at the altar of institutional survival. That will need to change.

    For student representation itself, there’s three obvious structural options. One approach would dissolve existing SUs to create an entirely new organisation. Another would preserve existing identities while creating coordination mechanisms. The conservative option would be to sustain separate SUs with coordination only on shared concerns.

    But in many ways, none of these structural options adequately addresses the real problem – which goes wider than the SUs themselves.

    These are the heroes of our time

    All the evidence from our study tours in Europe suggests that successful student communities depend on small-scale structures that build belonging and peer support – precisely what institutional merger threatens to destroy.

    Even in the largest universities on the continent, good systems consistently implement shallow ends – where students are organised into associative school or faculty structures that are capable of taking peer-responsibility for aspects of the student experience.

    In some ways, it’s the fundamental contradiction of mega-mergers – and of massified higher education more broadly. Institutions grow ever larger in pursuit of efficiency and status, while students and their staff require ever smaller communities to thrive academically and socially.

    Whatever SU structure emerges will need to embed small-scale structures within whatever governance arrangements are necessary for institutional advocacy.

    The tone set during merger will likely echo through decades of institutional culture. European failures teach us that consultation without power becomes performance, and performance without genuine partnership breeds cynicism. In other words, invest in democratic participation now, or explain democratic exclusion later.

    But as well as that, successful participation at institutional level can’t substitute for the daily experience of belonging that comes from knowing the people in your lecture hall rather than facing five hundred strangers.

    That requires a different kind of investment – in academic societies, peer mentoring, and the patient work of building academic communities at human scale within institutional structures designed for bureaucratic efficiency. After all, nine out of ten broadway musicals fail – but school plays sell out.

    If any set of managers embarking on a merger are serious about creating institutions that engage rather than merely process students, they’ll need to embrace the principle that there should be nothing about us without us.

    And they need to recognise that “us” means both the collective student body requiring effective institutional representation – and the individual students requiring small communities where they can learn, belong, thrive, and take responsibility for their own experience.

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  • Supporting neurodiverse learners requires more than accommodation: It demands systemic change

    Supporting neurodiverse learners requires more than accommodation: It demands systemic change

    Key points:

    Approximately 1 in 5 children in the United States are estimated to be neurodivergent, representing a spectrum of learning and thinking differences such as autism, ADHD, dyslexia, and more. These children experience the world in unique and valuable ways, but too often, our education systems fail to recognize or nurture their potential. In an already challenging educational landscape, where studies show a growing lack of school readiness nationwide, it is more important than ever to ensure that neurodivergent young learners receive the resources and support they need to succeed.

    Early support and intervention

    As President and CEO of Collaborative for Children, I have personally seen the impact that high-quality early childhood education can have on a child’s trajectory. Birth to age five is the most critical window for brain development, laying the foundation for lifelong learning, behavior, and health. However, many children are entering their academic years without the basic skills needed to flourish. For neurodivergent children, who often need tailored approaches to learning, the gap is even wider.

    Research indicates that early intervention, initiated within the first three years of life, can significantly enhance outcomes for neurodivergent children. Children who receive individualized support are more likely to develop stronger language, problem-solving, and social skills. These gains not only help in the classroom but can also lead to higher self-confidence, better relationships and improved well-being into adulthood.

    The Collaborative for Children difference

    Collaborative for Children in Houston focuses on early childhood education and is committed to creating inclusive environments where all children can thrive. In Houston, we have established 125 Centers of Excellence within our early childhood learning network. The Centers of Excellence program helps child care providers deliver high-quality early education that prepares children for kindergarten and beyond. Unlike drop-in daycare, our certified early childhood education model focuses on long-term development, combining research-backed curriculum, business support and family engagement.

    This year, we are expanding our efforts by providing enhanced training to center staff and classroom teachers, equipping them with effective strategies to support neurodivergent learners. These efforts will focus on implementing practical, evidence-based approaches that make a real difference.

    Actionable strategies

    As educators and leaders, we need to reimagine how learning environments are designed and delivered. Among the most effective actionable strategies are:

    • Creating sensory-friendly classrooms that reduce environmental stressors like noise, lighting, and clutter to help children stay calm and focused.
    • Offering flexible learning formats to meet a range of communication, motor, and cognitive styles, including visual aids, movement-based activities, and assistive technology.
    • Training teachers to recognize and respond to diverse behaviors with empathy and without stigma, so that what is often misinterpreted as “disruption” is instead seen as a signal of unmet needs.
    • Partnering with families to create support plans tailored to each child’s strengths and challenges to ensure continuity between home and classroom.
    • Incorporating play-based learning that promotes executive functioning, creativity, and social-emotional development, especially for children who struggle in more traditional formats.

    Benefits of inclusive early education

    Investing in inclusive, high-quality early education has meaningful benefits not only for neurodivergent children, but for other students, educators, families and the broader community. Research indicates that neurotypical students who learn alongside neurodivergent peers develop critical social-emotional skills such as patience, compassion and acceptance. Training in inclusive practices can help educators gain the confidence and tools needed to effectively support a wide range of learning styles and behaviors as well as foster a more responsive learning environment.

    Prioritizing inclusive early education can also create strong bonds between families and schools. These partnerships empower caregivers to play an active role in their child’s development, helping them navigate challenges and access critical resources early on. Having this type of support can be transformative for families by reducing feelings of isolation and reinforcing that their child is seen, valued, and supported.

    The benefits of inclusive early education extend far beyond the classroom. When neurodivergent children receive the support they need early in life, it lays the groundwork for increased workforce readiness. Long-term economic gains can include higher employment rates and greater earning potential for individuals. 

    Early childhood education must evolve to meet the needs of neurodivergent learners. We cannot afford to overlook the importance of early intervention and tailored learning environments. If we are serious about improving outcomes for all children, we must act now and commit to inclusivity as a core pillar of our approach. When we support all children early, everyone benefits.

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  • Comparing students with the general population is misleading when it comes to suicide

    Comparing students with the general population is misleading when it comes to suicide

    The Office for National Statistics (ONS) has published new estimates of suicides among higher education students, linking mortality records with student data between 2016 and 2023.

    The findings are stark – 1,108 student deaths by suicide over seven years – an average of 160 each year, or more than three every week.

    The headline takeaway, however, is that the suicide rate among students is lower than that of the general population of similar age. While technically correct, this framing is misleading and risks creating a false sense of reassurance.

    The ONS emphasises that these are “statistics in development.” They are the product of recent advances in linking mortality and student record data, improving on older estimates. In that sense, this is important progress.

    But the way the figures have been presented follows a familiar pattern: the headline is built around a simple comparison with the general population. It is neat, digestible, and apparently positive – yet it obscures more than it reveals.

    This matters because the way numbers are framed shapes public understanding, institutional behaviour, and government response. If the story is “lower than average,” the implicit message is that the sector is performing relatively well. That is not the story these figures should be telling.

    University students are not the “general population.” They are a distinct, filtered group. To reach higher education, young people must cross academic, financial, and often social thresholds. Many with the most acute or destabilising mental health challenges never make it to university, or leave when unwell.

    The student body is also not demographically representative. Despite widening participation efforts, it remains disproportionately white and relatively affluent. Comparing suicide rates across groups with such different profiles is not comparing “like with like.”

    In this context, a lower suicide rate is exactly what one would expect. The fact that the rate is not dramatically lower should be a cause for concern, not comfort.

    The dangers of statistical manipulation

    It is easy to play with denominators. For example, students are in teaching and assessment for around 30 weeks of the year, not 52. If suicide risk were confined to term time, the weekly rate among students would exceed that of their peers.

    But this recalculation is no better than the ONS comparison. Not all student deaths occur in term, and not all risks align neatly with the academic calendar.

    You could take the logic further still. We already know there are peak moments in the academic cycle when deaths are disproportionately high – the start of the year, exam and assessment periods, and end-of-year transitions or progressions. If you recalculated suicide rates just for those concentrated stress points, the apparent risk would rise dramatically.

    And that is the problem – once you start adjusting denominators in this way, you can make the statistics say almost anything. Both framings – “lower overall” and “higher in term” – shift attention away from the fundamental issue. Are students adequately protected in higher education?

    Universities are not average society. They are meant to be semi-protected environments, with pastoral care, residential support, student services, and staff trained to spot risks. Institutions advertise themselves as supportive communities. Parents and students reasonably expect that studying at university will be safer than life outside it.

    On that measure, the reality of more than three suicides a week is sobering. Whatever the relative rate, this is not “safe enough.”

    Averages conceal inequalities

    Aggregate rates also obscure critical differences within the student body. The ONS data show that:

    • Male students die by suicide at more than twice the rate of female students.
    • First-year undergraduates face significantly higher risk than later-year students.
    • Part-time students have higher rates than full-time peers.
    • Among 17–20 year-olds, nearly one in five suicides were students.

    Headline averages conceal these inequalities. A “lower than average” message smooths over the very groups that most need targeted intervention.

    Another striking feature is the absence of sector data. Universities do not systematically track student suicides. Instead, families must rely on official statisticians retrospectively linking death certificates with student records, often years later.

    If the sector truly regarded these figures as reassuring, one might expect institutions to record and publish them. The reluctance to do so instead signals avoidance. Without routine monitoring, lessons cannot be learned in real time and accountability is diluted.

    7. The missing legal duty

    These challenges sit within a wider context – universities have no statutory duty of care towards their students. Families bereaved by suicide encounter unclear lines of accountability. Institutions operate on voluntary frameworks, policies, and codes of practice which are not always followed.

    In that vacuum, numbers take on disproportionate weight. If statistics suggest the sector is “doing better than average,” the pressure for reform weakens. Yet the reality is that more than 1,100 students have died in seven years in what is supposed to be a protective environment.

    Other countries offer a different perspective. In Australia, student wellbeing is embedded in national higher education policy frameworks. In the United States, campus suicide rates are monitored more systematically, and institutions are under clearer obligations to respond. The UK’s fragmented, voluntary approach looks increasingly out of step.

    The new ONS dataset is valuable, but its framing risks repeating old mistakes. If we want real progress, three changes are needed:

    1. Better data – universities must keep their own records, enabling faster learning and transparency.
    2. Sharper framing – comparisons should focus on whether students are safe enough in higher education, not whether they are marginally “better than average.”
    3. Clearer accountability – a statutory duty of care would ensure that institutions cannot hide behind averages and voluntary codes.

    The ONS release should not be read as reassurance. Both the official comparison with the general population and alternative recalculations that exaggerate term-time risk are statistical manipulations. They distract from the central point – 160 students a year, more than three every week, are dying by suicide in higher education.

    Universities are meant to be safer than average society. The reality shows otherwise. Until higher education is bound by a legal duty of care and institutions commit to transparency and accountability, statistical debates will continue to obscure systemic failures – while friends and families will continue to bear the consequences.

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  • Exploring a new standard for preparing students for the future of work

    Exploring a new standard for preparing students for the future of work

    Key points:

    According to the World Economic Forum’s Future of Jobs Report 2025, nearly 40 percent of workers’ core skills will change in just the next five years. As AI, automation, and global connectivity continue to reshape every industry, today’s students are stepping into a world where lifelong careers in a single field are increasingly rare.

    Rather than following a straight path, the most successful professionals tomorrow will be able to pivot, reinvent, and adapt again and again. That’s why the goal of education must also shift. Instead of preparing students for a fixed destination, we must prepare them to navigate change itself.

    At Rockingham County Schools (RCS), this belief is at the heart of our mission to ensure every student is “choice-ready.” Rather than just asking, “What job will this student have?” we’re asking, “Will they be ready to succeed in whatever path they choose now and 10 years from now?”

    Choice-ready is a mindset, not just a pathway

    Let’s start with a quick analogy: Not long ago, the NBA underwent a major transformation. For decades, basketball was largely a two-point game with teams focused on scoring inside the arc. But over time, the strategy shifted to where it is today: a three-point league, where teams that invest in long-range shooters open up the floor, score more efficiently, and consistently outperform those stuck in old models. The teams that adapted reshaped the game. The ones that didn’t have fallen behind.

    Education is facing a similar moment. If we prepare students for a narrow, outdated version of success that prepares them for one track, one career, or one outcome, we risk leaving them unprepared for a world that rewards agility, range, and innovation.

    At RCS, we take a global approach to education to avoid this. Being “choice-ready” means equipping students with the mindset and flexibility to pursue many possible futures, and a global approach expands that readiness by exposing them to a broader range of competencies and real-world situations. This exposure prepares them to navigate the variety of contexts they will encounter as professionals. Rather than locking them into a specific plan, it helps them develop the ability to shift when industries, interests, and opportunities change.

    The core competencies to embrace this mindset and flexibility include:

    • Creative and analytical thinking, which help solve new problems in new contexts
    • Empathy and collaboration, which are essential for dynamic teams and cross-sector work
    • Confidence and communication, which are built through student-led projects and real-world learning

    RCS also brings students into the conversation. They’re invited to shape their learning environment by giving their input on district policies around AI, cell phone use, and dress codes. This encourages engagement and ownership that helps them build the soft skills and self-direction that today’s workforce demands.

    The 4 E’s: A vision for holistic student readiness and flexibility

    To turn this philosophy into action, we developed a four-part framework to support every student’s readiness:

    1. Enlisted: Prepared for military service
    2. Enrolled: Ready for college or higher education
    3. Educated: Grounded in academic and life skills
    4. Entrepreneur: Equipped to create, innovate, and take initiative

    That fourth “E”–entrepreneur–is unique to RCS and especially powerful. It signals that students can create their opportunities rather than waiting for them. In one standout example, a student who began producing and selling digital sound files online explored both creative and commercial skill sets.

    These categories aren’t silos. A student might enlist, then enroll in college, then start a business. That’s the whole point: Choice-ready students can move fluidly from one path to another as their interests–and the world–evolve.

    The role of global education

    Global education is a framework that prepares students to understand the world, appreciate different perspectives, and engage with real-world issues across local and global contexts. It emphasizes transferable skills—such as adaptability, empathy, and critical thinking—that students need to thrive in an unpredictable future.

    At RCS, global education strengthens student readiness through:

    • Dual language immersion, which gives students a competitive edge in a multilingual, interconnected workforce
    • Cultural exposure, which builds resilience, empathy, and cross-cultural competence
    • Real-world learning, which connects academic content to relevant, global challenges

    These experiences prepare students to shift between roles, industries, and even countries with confidence.

    Redesigning career exploration: Early exposure and real skills

    Because we don’t know what future careers will be, we embed career exploration across K-12 to ensure students develop self-awareness and transferable skills early on.

    One of our best examples is the Paxton Patterson Labs in middle schools, where students explore real-world roles, such as practicing dental procedures on models rather than just watching videos.

    Through our career and technical education and innovation program at the high school level, students can:

    • Earn industry-recognized credentials.
    • Collaborate with local small business owners.
    • Graduate workforce-ready with the option to pursue higher education later.

    For students who need immediate income after graduation, RCS offers meaningful preparation that doesn’t close off future opportunities, keeping those doors open.

    And across the system, RCS tracks success by student engagement and ownership, both indicators that a learner is building confidence, agency, and readiness to adapt. This focus on student engagement and preparing students for the world postgraduation is already paying dividends. During the 2024-25 school year, RCS was able to increase the percentage of students scoring proficient on the ACT by more than 20 points to 44 percent. Additionally, RCS increased both the number of students who took AP exams and the number who received a passing score by 12 points to 48 percent.

    Preparing students for a moving target

    RCS knows that workforce readiness is a moving target. That’s why the district continues to evolve with it. Our ongoing focus areas include:

    • Helping graduates become lifelong learners who can retrain and reskill as needed
    • Raising awareness of AI’s influence on learning, creativity, and work
    • Expanding career exploration opportunities that prioritize transferable, human-centered skills

    We don’t know exactly what the future holds. We do know that students who can adapt, pivot, and move confidently from one career path to another will be the most prepared–because the most important outcome isn’t fitting students into today’s job market but preparing them to create value in tomorrow’s.

    At Rockingham County Schools, that’s what being “choice-ready” really means. It’s not about predicting the future. It’s about preparing students to thrive within it wherever it leads.

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  • 4 tips to create an engaging digital syllabus

    4 tips to create an engaging digital syllabus

    Key points:

    Back-to-school season arrives every year with a mixed bag of emotions for most educators, including anticipation and excitement, but also anxiety. The opportunity to catch up with friendly colleagues and the reward of helping students connect with material also comes with concern about how best to present and communicate that material in a way that resonates with a new classroom.

    An annual challenge for K-12 educators is creating a syllabus that engages students and will be used throughout the year to mutual benefit rather than tucked in a folder and forgotten about. Today’s digital transformation can be a means for educators to create a more dynamic and engaging syllabus that meets students’ and parents’ needs.

    While it can be overwhelming to think about learning any new education technology, the good news about a digital syllabi is that anyone who’s sent a digital calendar invite has already done most of the technical-learning legwork. The more prescient task will be learning the best practices that engage students and enable deeper learning throughout the year. 

    Step one: Ditch the PDFs and print-outs

    Creating a syllabus that works begins with educators stepping into the shoes of their students. K-12 classrooms are full of students who are oriented around the digital world. Where textbooks and binders were once the tools of the trade for students, laptops and iPads have largely taken over. This creates an opportunity for teachers to create more dynamic syllabi via digital calendars, rather than printed off or static PDFs with lists of dates, deadlines, and relevant details that will surely change as the year progresses. In fact, many learning management systems (LMS) already have useful calendar features for this reason. Again, teachers need only know the best way to use them. The digital format offers flexibility and connectivity that old-school syllabi simply can’t hold a candle to.

    Tips for creating an effective digital syllabus

    Classroom settings and imperatives can vary wildly, and so can the preferences of individual educators. Optimization in this case is in the eye of the beholder, but consider a few ideas that may wind up on your personal best practices list for building out your digital syllabus every year around this time:

    Make accessing the most up-to-date version of the syllabus as frictionless as possible for students and parents. Don’t attach your syllabus as a static PDF buried in an LMS. Instead, opt-in to the calendar most LMS platforms offer for the mutual benefit of educators, students, and parents. To maximize engagement and efficiency, teachers can create a subscription calendar in addition or as an alternative to the LMS calendar. Subscription calendars create a live link between the course syllabus and students’ and/or parents’ own digital calendar ecosystem, such as Google Calendar or Outlook. Instead of logging into the LMS to check upcoming dates, assignments, or project deadlines, the information becomes more accessible as it integrates into their monthly, weekly, and daily schedules, mitigating the chance of a missed assignment or even parent-teacher conference. Students and parents only have to opt-in to these calendars once at the beginning of the academic year, but any of the inevitable changes and updates to the syllabus throughout the year are reflected immediately in their personal calendar, making it simpler and easier for educators to ensure no important date is ever missed. While few LMS offer this option within the platform, subscription calendar links are like any hyperlink–easy to share in emails, LMS message notifications, and more.

    Leverage the calendar description feature. Virtually every digital calendar provides an option to include a description. This is where educators should include assignment details, such as which textbook pages to read, links to videos or course material, grading rubrics, or more. 

    Color-code calendar invitations for visual information processors. Support different types of information processors in the classroom by taking the time to color-code the syllabus. For example, purple for project deadlines, red for big exams, yellow for homework assignment due dates. Consistency and routine are key, especially for younger students and busy parents. Color-coding, or even the consistent naming and formatting of events and deadlines, can make a large impact on students meeting deadlines.

    Encourage further classroom engagement by integrating digital syllabus “Easter eggs.” Analog syllabi often contain Easter eggs that reward students who read it all the way through. Digital syllabi can include similar engaging surprises, but they’re easy to add throughout the year. Hide extra-credit opportunities in the description of an assignment deadline or add an invitation for last-minute office hours ahead of a big quiz or exam. It could be as simple as a prompt for students to draw their favorite animal at the bottom of an assignment for an extra credit point. If students are aware that these opportunities could creep up in the calendar, it keeps them engaged and perhaps strengthens the habit of checking their classroom syllabus.

    While the start of the new school year is the perfect time to introduce a digital syllabus into the classroom, it’s important for educators to keep their own bandwidth and comfortability in mind. Commit to one semester with a digital syllabus and spend time learning the basic features and note how the classroom responds. From there, layer in more advanced features or functionality that helps students without being cumbersome to manage. Over time, educators will learn what works best for them, their students and parents, and the digital syllabus will be a classroom tool that simplifies classroom management and drives more engagement year-round. 

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