Blog

  • The student experience is beyond breaking point

    The student experience is beyond breaking point

    The standout headline stat in this year’s HEPI/Advance HE Student Academic Experience Survey (SAES) is that there’s been a dramatic rise in the proportion of students at work.

    Full-time undergraduates undertaking paid work (that is not related to their course) during term time is now at 68 per cent, up from 56 per cent in 2024 and just 35 per cent a decade ago.

    That’s tempered a little by the news that of those in work, the average number of hours worked during term time has actually fallen a little – from 14.5 hours to 13.1 hours. The report speculates that some of those who have begun working in the past year may have taken jobs with more moderate, perhaps more manageable, hours.

    Or maybe – in an era when the leisure and hospitality industries are on their knees, and employers have been grappling with a minimum wage rising much faster than inflation, students are struggling to get the hours they need.

    Either way, if we extrapolate up the sample and the overall mean average, and assume that students are roughly accurate in their responses, there’s an even more astonishing stat buried in here:

    That’s right – student numbers over the decade are up 15.5 per cent, while the total hours worked in term time are up 79.6 per cent.

    There’s a touch of numberwang here – so to put the numbers in some vague context, full-time students in the UK working during term time are now contributing over a quarter of the hours that Latvia’s entire workforce produces in a full year.

    Paid employment can be positive for all sorts of reasons – but the idea that an increase like that won’t be having serious negative impacts on health and learning really is for the birds.

    If – as various aspects of this year’s SAES suggest – earning while learning is a “new normal”, the least students should expect is universities developing proper strategies to facilitate it, and the government providing a proper framework to enable it. On European comparisons, we’re miles away from both.

    This is, as ever, a weighty bit of work – 10,232 full-time undergraduate students in the UK, representing a population of 1,759,245 (2023–24 data) all yield a margin of error of ±1% at a 95% confidence level.

    That said, a health warning before we get into it – while the figures weight the sample for ethnicity, type of school attended, discipline and (for the first time) domicile, they don’t weight the sample for age.

    And given the 22-25 age group has nearly doubled from 18 per cent to 36 per cent of the sample year on year, while the 26+ group has collapsed from 23 per cent to just 5 per cent, a pinch of salt is required throughout.

    Various of the questions referred to below can be interrogated for a range of demographic and other splits via the cross-tab tables, which DK has plotted here.

    [Full screen]

    Short-lived celebrations

    Corks were popping last year when the headline “value for money” perception score rose after its Covid collapse to 39 per cent. Short-lived celebrations, sadly – we’re back down at 37 per cent feeling they received good or very good value.

    As ever, Scottish students perceive the highest value, although even then only at 48 per cent – a figure which always baffles some on the socials who forget that a bargain Ryanair flight to Reykjavík still feels like terrible value if your sandwich and coffee at Keflavik International costs double that.

    That’s borne out in the factors considered when judging VFM data – cost of living is some 10 percentage points ahead of any other factor. Tuition fees have declined in relative significance, academic quality concerns are also moderating, and stuff like one-to-one staff time, contact hours, and course organisation remain relatively stable but secondary.

    Down in the splits there are some fascinating differences not picked up in the report – women, first in family and state educated students are less happy than peers, students in non-university halls are 10pp more likely to report poor value than those in university halls or living alone or at home, care experienced and estranged students are almost twice as likely to report poor value than their peers, and degree apprentices are 11pp more likely to report poor value than UGs.

    This is your regular reminder that an apprentice aged 21 in the first year of their apprenticeship is entitled to a princely minimum hourly rate of £7.55 an hour. Earn while you learn indeed.

    One thing that’s striking is a kind of Value for Money paradox – there’s a very strong relationship between negative impact of the cost of living crisis and VFM perceptions, and a good value “sweet spot” of working 10-15 hours (4 in 10 happy), with those working fewer or more hours less happy.

    I’d suggest we’re staring here at two “trapped” student profiles – those having to work so many hours that it’s ruining the experience, and those who need to work but are constrained by visa restrictions, health, lack of available employment, course demands or timetabling conflicts – leaving them financially stressed without the ability to address it.

    Grating expectations

    On expectations, bifurcation has been the big story in SAES in recent years – and this year’s no different. 26 per cent of students in 2025 report that their experience exceeded expectations – double the rate seen during the pandemic in 2021.

    But there’s been a corresponding rise in students whose experience was worse than expected too – 15 percent in 2025, up from 8 per cent in 2021.

    For students whose expectations weren’t met, it feels like time and money are the ones hardest to influence – 23 per cent cite less disposable income than expected, 18 per cent are taking on more debt than anticipated, and 17 per cent cite longer commutes.

    Academic issues were up there too, though – poor teaching quality (23 per cent), lack of support for independent study (23 per cent) and course disorganisation (20 per cent) are the notables. Analysis of the qual also suggests that loneliness should have been a box they could tick.

    And down in the splits there are some similar lessons to those seen in the VFM questions – again, only 18 per cent of those in non-university halls have had expectations met, over 10pp worse than those at home or living alone.

    I’ve had a few

    I’ve been following the “regret” question quite closely for a few years now – and I’m afraid to say that this year a record low of 56 per cent said they would make the same decision on course and university again. Significantly, those who would avoid higher education entirely has nearly doubled from 6 per cent to 11 per cent between 2024 and 2025.

    The factors underpinning that are much better explored in the Nicola Dandridge/University of Bristol deep dive we looked at a few weeks back, although sticking out like a sore thumb here are those working but under 10 hours (just 38 per cent would make the same choice), those doing Level 4 or 5 quals (on 46 per cent and 40 per cent respectively), and those with caring responsibilities, those that are themselves care experienced, those estranged and trans students – they languish down on 44, 39, 40 and 41 per cent “no regrets” respectively.

    Non-university halls also make another of their regular appearances – every other type of living arrangement averages out at between 55 and 59 per cent “no regrets”, while those in private PBSA are on 39 per cent. An astonishing 21 per cent of them would avoid HE altogether if they had their time again.

    Considered withdrawing (roughly two-thirds) and the reasons for that (mental health and cost of living) both remain stable – combined with the regret figures, they continue to suggest that the system is better at trapping students onto a conveyor belt than anything else.

    Can I have some more?

    Every year students are asked to make qualitative suggestions on what could be done to improve the quality of the student experience – eight major themes range from requests for more personalised academic support and timely feedback to calls for enhanced mental health services, financial assistance, and improved teaching quality.

    I won’t dwell on them here – suffice to say that almost all of them represent a direct collision between rising expectations and diminishing resources. Students are requesting precisely the kind of labour-intensive, personalised services that universities are routinely subjecting to “shrinkflation”.

    Smaller class sizes, one-to-one interaction with staff, detailed feedback, enhanced mental health support, and reduced fees for international students all feel like things doing in precisely the opposite direction – a potentially vicious cycle where quality is hit, that generates further dissatisfaction. They are not necessarily completely unaffordable – but they either reflect support expectations associated with an expected speed of completion not seen in many other countries, or degree structures which pile on too much pressure unnecessarily.

    That said, if you’re looking for something (anything) resembling good news here, it’s on aspects of teaching. Pretty much every characteristic tested – encouraged you to take responsibility for your own learning, clearly explained course goals and requirements, helpful and supportive, initiated debates and discussion are within margins of error at record satisfaction.

    Assessment feedback has reached new heights, with holistic feedback and draft work feedback achieving record scores – over 15 percentage points higher than 2018 levels. And assignment turnaround times have dramatically improved – 61 per cent are now returned within two weeks (up from just 33 per cent in 2022), exceeding evolving student expectations where 70 per cent expect two-week returns.

    Under pressure

    The problems are in pressure and time. Contact hours are stable at 15-16 hours provided, 13 hours attended, but student satisfaction with contact hours has declined significantly by nine percentage points to its lowest level in a decade (excluding the pandemic blip).

    The data reveal that students generally value contact hours, with those having 10+ hours weekly showing greater satisfaction, but the key factor seems to be the rise in students working for pay. Students without paid employment show notably higher satisfaction with contact hours (64 per cent) compared to working students (57 per cent), suggesting that increased work commitments are creating challenges in balancing total time demands rather than dissatisfaction with the contact hours themselves.

    That pattern intensifies as students progress through their degrees, where they attend fewer contact hours while taking on more paid work responsibilities – and the decline appears linked to students’ difficulty managing their broader commitments, indicating a need for more flexible timetabling to help students balance their academic and work responsibilities effectively.

    That all results in this fairly alarming chart – not only is the amount of time spent in timetabled hours and independent study at its lowest in half a decade (24.2 hours), there’s a significant difference between those who work and those who don’t.

    Worse still, as I’ve noted before, the UK’s notional ECTS-to-hours ratio is already lower than the rest of Europe at 20 hours per credit (everyone else is on 25-30 hours) – these figures suggest that they’re somehow getting their degrees on 15 fewer hours studying than they’re supposed to be able to, all while being expected to complete 5.8 summative assignments per semester and 4.1 formative assignments – both at record highs.

    The pressures of work, what is starting to look clearly like over-assessment, cost of living and so on – all in a system and culture set up to get UGs through their degrees faster than pretty much every other country – will almost certainly be generating support demands, mental health issues and (Al related) “efficiencies” that are harming students’ health and learning.

    Hence wellbeing remains concerningly low, with only 14-18 per cent reporting high scores on key measures (life satisfaction, happiness, feeling worthwhile, and low anxiety) – half the levels seen in the general population. Students have very high, perhaps unrealistic expectations for institutional mental health support too – 40 per cent believe universities should provide comprehensive services including severe cases, and another 41 per cent expect preventative programs and counselling for less severe issues.

    Students with existing mental health difficulties, those significantly affected by cost-of-living pressures, trans students, first-years, and those studying in Scotland show even higher expectations, with nearly half (47 per cent) of students with mental health challenges expecting comprehensive university support.

    All about the money

    Back on money again, three-quarters of students continue to report that cost-of-living pressures have notably impacted their studies, nearly one-in-five students have taken on more debt than planned (particularly affecting home students), and other impacts include reduced spending on course equipment, lower participation in sports and societies, and increased commuting costs.

    The reduction in extracurricular activities is particularly worrying given existing student mental health challenges – and miserably, financial challenges mean that 6 per cent of home students selected a different course than they had planned to, and 7 per cent selected a different institution than they had planned to.

    This year there’s also a strange set of questions testing students’ attitudes towards maintaining, increasing or decreasing tuition fee levels with some associated quality trade-offs – it’s not clear that that tells us much given the range of other factors underpinning their value perceptions.

    Breaking points

    So what are we to make of all that? Similar to previous years, the data suggests a system under extraordinary strain – but this year’s findings suggest to me that we’ve crossed a threshold from manageable pressure into systematic breakdown.

    One way to understand what’s happening is through the lens of the Study Demands-Resources model we found in European student research. Eurostudent’s analysis distinguishes between stress-inducing demands (excessive workload, time pressure, financial obligations) and supportive resources (peer contact, teacher guidance, family support, adequate funding) – where wellbeing depends on the balance between these forces.

    The SAES figures suggest we’re witnessing unprecedented demand escalation alongside systematic resource depletion. Students face more assignments per semester (up 47 per cent since 2017), their capacity to engage has collapsed, independent study time has fallen below contact hours for many subjects, and the employment reality means students are operating at 44.3 total weekly hours while UK full-time workers average 36.6 hours.

    Another lens is Maslow. Universities are investing heavily in what I’ve previously described as self-actualisation interventions (creative assignments, intellectual debates, community building) while students struggle with basic physiological and safety needs. As I’ve noted before on here, when basic needs are unmet, higher-order educational experiences become impossible regardless of quality – and every extra hour of effort up the top of Maslow has diminishing returns.

    The control paradox is also troubling. We’re used to universities being held accountable for outcomes – retention, belonging, wellbeing, satisfaction, completion – that are increasingly driven by factors outside their control. Universities might perfect contact hour delivery, but students working extreme hours can’t attend. They can enhance support services, but working students can’t access them during traditional hours. I’m usually the first to argue that universities should look at what they can control – but the multi-car pile up of issues inside that which they can’t is starting to look overwhelming.

    Most troubling of all is what this all means for “full-time” study. Every student finance review and the credit system itself puts its meaning at 35 to 40 hours a week of academic work. 24.7 hours of actual academic engagement, with a record number of deadlines to hit is a 35 to 40 per cent shortfall. When “full-time” students operate at part-time academic intensity while longer hours than full-time employees, something has to give – their health, their wider intellectual and social development, academic integrity or all three.

    I’m also starting to worry profoundly about choice, equality and institutional mission. Take the Russell Group’s recent home student expansion. These are universities predominantly located in expensive cities, increasing their numbers (but not necessarily proportions) from lower tariff applicants and lower socioeconomic backgrounds. The mathematics are cruel – poor(er) students recruited to institutions they cannot afford to attend properly, forced into extreme employment that excludes them from the very experiences that make those institutions valuable.

    A two-tier system – where financially supported students engaging fully with campus life, relationships and opportunities, while “widening participation” students work 30-plus hours, miss relationship-building opportunities, and graduate with the same credentials but fundamentally different educational experiences. This isn’t inclusion, or positive choice – it’s a sophisticated form of educational inequality that maintains the appearance of social mobility while perpetuating class advantages.

    On this evidence, the efficiency imperative – on both universities and students – is harming what makes higher education valuable beyond qualification acquisition. The slow elimination of intellectual curiosity, community membership, personal development, and critical thinking is what distinguishes higher education from job training. It’s melting away.

    It all points at a need for much radical thinking than is on offer either in the SAES report’s recommendations or in the portfolio reviews and strategic collaborations being planned in documents like this. If nothing else, you can’t pull off a transformation and efficiency taskforce on provision without one looking at the student experience.

    The UK does, on admittedly shaky OECD evidence, have a curiously expensive way of delivering higher education. Unless the sector is prepared to be more radical over curriculum design, subject specialisation, assessment and credit acquisition, and be matched in maintenance and flexibility efforts by a government prepared to own the problems its predecessor created, it will continue down a fatal path – of demanding more and more from staff and students while paying the former less and less and charging the latter (through commercial debt and lifetime repayments) more and more.

    Source link

  • Could Uncertainty in Higher Ed Be a Catalyst for Change?

    Could Uncertainty in Higher Ed Be a Catalyst for Change?

    As colleges navigate major disruption—from a loss of federal funding to AI advancements—they’re also being forced to grapple with persistent questions around their role in skills training, trust in their institutions and how to keep pace with digital learning innovations.

    At Digital Universities, a convening of more than 150 faculty, teaching and learning administrators, and education-technology experts, attendees came away with a sense of urgency to meet this moment of unpredictability and uncertainty.

    “It’s revealing the tensions between different goals, aspirations and larger challenges that may be implicit but are still there,” said Trey Conatser, assistant provost for teaching and learning at the University of Kentucky and director of UK’s Center for the Enhancement of Learning and Teaching.

    “Some of those things are what it means to adapt to enrollment challenges and how we negotiate our identities as institutions of higher education, as stewards of a storied, scholarly mission in light of changing business models, as well as negotiating our relationships with industry partners, the public and public officials.”

    Glenda Morgan, an education-technology market analyst, told Inside Higher Ed that she was reassured that “people are actually talking about this stuff—this moment of uncertainty” throughout the conference’s programming.

    “AI is making clear some of the issues and fractures and making all of these problems that have probably been there for a long time more apparent, visible and urgent,” she said.

    For example, “AI brings questions about cheating to the forefront, but it really highlights that our assessment systems are so outdated … Testing factual information has never been the point; it’s always been application. But AI is making that more urgent now.”

    Trust in Higher Ed

    In a panel discussion on privacy, AI and cybersecurity, speakers highlighted another long-standing issue that AI is pushing to the surface: trust. Morgan said that while today’s students seem generally comfortable sharing their data with outside entities, they may be increasingly skeptical about how their own institutions are using or even “surveilling” their data.

    Panelist Josh Callahan, chief information security officer for the California State University system, later told Inside Higher Ed that cybersecurity concerns in the era of AI are stoking conversations that should have happened decades ago.

    “We were all busy doing the things, building technology into teaching and learning, and we had a lot of assumptions and really didn’t engage in some of these conversations,” he said. “And now it’s becoming unavoidable, because it’s embedded. And we are at a crisis point in a lot of ways, in terms of our trust in institutions—not just higher ed.”

    Teaching in the Age of AI

    At the two-day event in Salt Lake City organized by Inside Higher Ed and its parent company, Times Higher Education, attendees also considered how to respond to the threat to entry-level white-collar jobs posed by the evolution of AI—a risk articulated by Anthropic CEO Dario Amodei last month when he predicted AI could wipe out half of those positions within just five years.

    During a discussion on leveraging workforce partnerships for future skills, Sarah DeMark, vice president of academic portfolio at the fully online Western Governors University, said WGU’s instruction and curriculum model is informed by employment data and focused on helping students both develop and effectively market the skills they learn in college. “It’s not just about degree completion, it’s about getting a job,” she said. “One of the big opportunities [institutions] have is transparency around the skills and competencies students are gaining through the courses and programs they’re taking.”

    Hollis Robbins, special adviser for humanities diplomacy at the University of Utah, offered a different perspective on workforce preparation, saying faculty should be able to do more than teach skills and information in the age of AI, when students no longer need a professor to learn easily accessible, established information.

    “My own view is that AI is going to be teaching general education courses,” she said. With that in mind, “it’s important to reconfigure their business models to double down on faculty expertise and say that’s the value of what [students] are paying for.”

    Meanwhile, in a discussion about getting the most out of teaching with AI, Zawan Al Bulushi, an assistant professor of education at the University of Arizona, said that she sees generative AI as a “friend” that offers shortcuts for professors who may feel overwhelmed by their workloads. She uses it to craft lesson plans that strike the right tone with students and create visually appealing lecture slides that keep students engaged.

    “The best educators won’t be replaced by AI,” she said. “But those who use it well will redefine what’s possible.”

    Bulushi is an outlier among most faculty, however, as many institutions still have no formal AI policy supporting students and faculty in engaging with the technology.

    Recent findings from Inside Higher Ed’s survey of chief information officers showed that more than half of CIOs say their institution hasn’t adopted institutionwide formal policies or guidelines for the use of AI tools for general use. And 31 percent said their institution hasn’t adopted any policy or guidelines in the areas of instruction, administrative tasks, student services or research assistance.

    “If you don’t have a policy, then it’s a little bit like the wild, wild West. Entities like OpenAI, Google and Microsoft are all competing, and they’re all telling you that they’re the answer,” Marvin Krislov, president of Pace University, said in the opening plenary. “But there doesn’t seem to be regulation on the federal level and there doesn’t seem to be consensus in higher education. At least on an institutional level, I hope people will start—if they haven’t already—grappling with [AI].”

    Maricel Lawrence, innovation catalyst at Purdue Global, advised institutions to consider why they want to use new AI technologies before jumping headfirst into adoption.

    “We need a larger conversation about what it means to learn and how to advance student success,” she told Inside Higher Ed. “AI could help us in many ways, but it shouldn’t be that we’re starting the conversation with AI.”

    Sara Custer and Colleen Flaherty contributed to this report.

    Source link

  • Implementing Climate Education for Gen Z Students

    Implementing Climate Education for Gen Z Students

    As climate disasters become more frequent and severe, more institutions are investing in programs to address environmental changes and prepare students to engage in green careers.

    Clark University plans to launch its School of Climate, Environment and Society this fall, institutionalizing the university’s commitment to climate action and investing in interdisciplinary learning for students interested in the work of sustainability.

    In this episode of Voices of Student Success, host Ashley Mowreader speaks with Lou Leonard, the inaugural dean of Clark’s School of Climate, Environment and Society, about the need for this new school and how such education can tackle climate anxiety in young people.

    An edited version of the podcast transcript appears below.

    Inside Higher Ed: Can you talk a little bit about the new school? How does it tie into institutional priorities?

    Lou Leonard, Clark University’s inaugural D. J. A. Spencer Dean of the School of Climate, Environment and Society

    Leo Leonard: The school officially launches next fall. We’ll have our first incoming cohorts for some new degree programs that are specifically linked to the starting of the school, and so we’ll have an undergraduate major in climate, environment [and] society, and a new professionally oriented master’s degree in climate, environment and society.

    But the school really is coming together from a place of long-standing commitment and expertise within Clark on these topics. The school will include a core set of departments that have existed for a long time. In fact, one of them is the geography department at Clark, which has been around for over 100 years. And then a department called Sustainability and Social Justice, which is celebrating its 25th anniversary next year.

    The Economics Department for the university will also be housed in the new school, which I think is exciting, because it’s one of these fields that is so significant and important for the way we think about, address, understand and really create climate solutions. But it’s a department that, in many universities, would say, “Oh, well, that can’t be in a school of climate, environment and society, because economics is bigger than that.” I think [Clark’s] decision is emblematic of a bigger decision by the university, which is to really go all in on climate action and on the issues that are under this umbrella of climate, environment and society, the way climate change and environmental degradation intersect with human society.

    In that sense, it’s not just the launching of a new school. It’s the university saying, “This is one of the things that Clark already does really well. We want to do better, and we want to be known for it in the world.” I think having a school like this demonstrates that the university is making a real, serious commitment to these issues.

    Q: I think sometimes sustainability or climate action can be seen as something new or trendy with young people, or a response to things that have happened in the past 20 years. But, as you allude to, some of these departments and majors have existed for 20-plus years. I wonder if you can speak to that element of, not everything within the school is new, but it’s a rehousing and reorganization of programs and majors that are already important to the university.

    A: I think that your question applies to this school and the way higher education can think of its role in climate, but it actually also points at the larger question of climate change itself, right?

    A lot of times, we think of climate change as something that’s a separate issue. But really what the climate crisis represents, and what issues related to climate impacts—the energy transition, biodiversity conservation—all of these topics existed since before there were humans on this planet, some of them, anyway.

    What the layer of climate change brings to these things is often an acceleration of challenges or a way in which we need to think across traditional disciplines when we’re trying to figure out how to respond to some of the challenges that climate change presents for us. Climate is not a wholly new thing in the world or in higher education.

    Q: I’m even thinking, like, food systems is something that we traditionally house in a school of agriculture, but there’s definitely climate implications when it comes to that. Or we talked about economics and how business and society functions are completely dependent on climate and the external circumstances that drive those factors.

    I also really appreciate the fact that the school includes the “and society,” because there’s that human implication as well, where it’s not just “we’re trying to fix the planet,” but also “we’re trying to impact the world in a more positive way.”

    A: That’s right. In some ways, the planet is going to be fine. The planet is a set of geophysical, geochemical processes. And the real question is whether the conditions for stable, predictable human life are going to continue in the same ways that have allowed humans to prosper and to be thinking about leading better and more fulfilling lives.

    It’s those conditions that—we’ve been lucky—for the last 20,000 years have been pretty stable, and basically, we’re leaving that period. We’re leaving that period of Goldilocks, stable climate conditions that have allowed human society to focus on other things, including their own prosperity. Now we don’t have the luxury anymore; we have to understand the intersection between human society and what’s changing around us in order to maintain a future where we can prosper and we can live lives of purpose.

    Q: Absolutely. That is very scary, though, especially for our young people, who are growing up in a world where this is the reality that they’re facing in their future.

    I pulled a few stats. Inside Higher Ed did a survey in 2022 and we found that 81 percent of college students said they were at least somewhat worried about climate change. And then, more recently, Sacred Heart University found more than half of U.S. youth report eco-anxiety, and 74 percent said they agree with the statement “I’m personally worried about climate change.”

    When we think about climate, higher education obviously has a role when it comes to resources and research, and helping people understand solutions and the implications of climate change, but also educating young people and helping them prepare for their future and understanding the world around them. I wonder if you can talk about that mission of the school as well as helping students engage in this sort of work.

    A: I’m hearing two things here. One is the understandable—and it’s not just something that younger folks are experiencing, but a lot of folks are experiencing—sense of uncertainty, anxiety and fear about what it means to live in a world that’s not as stable in some fundamental ways as what we’re used to.

    And the other is “How do we still find purpose, agency and careers that are meaningful for us in that kind of world?”

    So if we take the first part of that, I think it is fundamental that we understand and provide students with the tools to address the kind of social, emotional dimensions of the climate crisis present to us. And if you’re going to have a school that focuses on these topics and brings an interdisciplinary perspective to it—which is what the school aspires to do—then that has to include ways for students to name, hold and manage the emotional sides of this.

    I think Clark’s really lucky. Clark University is very well-known for its psychology program—Sigmund Freud gave his only lectures in the United States at Clark … Bringing that sort of perspective to the Clark education is something we’ve done forever, and I think a really important part of what the school does going forward is being intentional about that.

    But I think the second part of your question is related to the first, which is, can we find a sense of purpose, a sense of agency, a sense of “I have a way to contribute to this”? You know, action metabolizes anxiety, and a sense of purpose allows us to have a ballast during times that are shaky around us—and, quite frankly, the world is shaky right now. So for those people that particularly—and you said, the number is pretty high—care about these issues, building a set of skills competencies, confidence that you can be part of the response going forward … I think that is critical to your emotional well-being in these changing times.

    Q: I’ve been reading [Jonathan Haidt’s] The Anxious Generation, and it talks a lot about how social media can be a portal to too much information, where students are always seeing each other and always hearing from each other.

    I think, in the same way, climate information can be really overwhelming, where it’s like, “Oh my gosh, the polar bears are dying; what am I supposed to do about it in my dorm room at Clark University?” But there’s also an element of “OK, now I know about it and I get to be equipped with that information.”

    I think helping students understand the problems and contribute to solving them, but also like you said, making sure that they are mentally well and capable of handling what that looks like and having that sense of advocacy for themselves and the world around them—that’s a really tough tension for students to live between.

    A: The difference between going on to the virtual world, whether it’s social media or the internet more broadly, it’s like you’re putting yourself in front of a fire hose or this waterfall that feels uncontrollable related to the information that’s flying at you.

    Those places—social media, the internet in general—do not provide you a way to manage that information flow. But a good education, one that’s grounded in different ways to understand and make sense of the complexity of the world, that is the role a good education, particularly the role that an undergraduate education, has traditionally played. That’s what we do.

    So if that’s true, and if the liberal arts education was always supposed to provide that equipment for students to then enter the world with more confidence in understanding it and therefore being able to navigate it in all of its complexity, then, in some ways, the degrees and the programs under the School of Climate, Environment and Society at Clark being interdisciplinary, being experiential, are a kind of a new liberal arts in a way.

    It’s a specialized set of equipment that allows you to understand that torrent of information, particularly about climate, environment and its relationship to society. I think it’s in some ways the opposite of just going on social media. It’s being intentional about creating those filters, that equipment, that way to understand and see the world that you need to avoid feeling overwhelmed. It’s not that we’re never going to— We’re still going to feel overwhelmed at times, right? I’ve been in this work my entire life. I’m now in my 50s. I still feel overwhelmed by it at times. That part doesn’t go away. It’s not that it goes away; we just become more able to manage it while we’re contributing to the change that needs to happen.

    Q: You’ve mentioned a few times now the interdisciplinary lens of the world. Can you talk about that and the experiential elements, both getting students that hands-on experience but also transcending the traditional majors and disciplines to help students be able to grapple with this issue from a lot of different angles?

    A: I’m glad that you paired interdisciplinary with experiential, because those two things need to go together from a pedagogical standpoint, from a learning-how-we-do-the-learning standpoint.

    Interdisciplinarity, or transdisciplinarity, says that the world is really complex, and, in fact, some of what has led to the slow and, at best, incomplete—and some would say, woefully inadequate—response to the climate crisis and the even longer biodiversity crisis and the related impacts to communities, environmental justice crisis, is because we haven’t adequately been able to look across those different ways in which to understand the world. Whether it’s economic, physical sciences … policy and governance, the role that the private sector plays, or technology and the issues there.

    That’s why, five years ago now, the National Academies of Sciences did a review of education related to sustainability and said, “What is the right formula for pulling together programs that meet this complex need, give students equipment to deal with this complexity and to then contribute to new ways of developing solutions or working across these traditional aspects of society, so we can see new ways to unlock progress on climate change?”

    That combination [of interdisciplinary and experiential] is important, because transdisciplinary or interdisciplinary work can be conceptual until you actually get into an applied setting, until you actually start doing projects. Either research projects that are especially designed to be cross- or interdisciplinary or transdisciplinary, or you get out into the working world through an internship, through a class project. At Clark we have something called the Global Learning Collaboratives, these places where students can go and engage in projects in other countries, where their work in the classroom starts to make sense, because they’re now doing it in an experiential way, in an applied way.

    You need both, otherwise you get lost. It becomes very conceptual. Or if you’re just doing applied work, you don’t have any framework to see how these different aspects or the way the world gets in the way of some of these applied challenges, then you’re not able to do things differently. So you need both.

    Q: Another really important facet of climate and society and understanding how sustainability impacts communities is doing community-based learning or service-based learning. How are you considering ways to put students out in the world and engage with communities that are being directly impacted by climate change?

    A: There’s a lot that we already have at Clark that’s being brought together under the umbrella of the new school that’s related to this. I spoke a second ago about the Global Learning Collaboratives. This is something that emerged from one of the units that’s going to be part of the new school, and we’re going to build on it going forward. We have projects in Bangladesh and Ethiopia, in Mexico, but also in Worcester [Mass.], in our backyard, in the community that Clark has lived in for almost 150 years.

    It is really important that that is what experiential and applied work is: It’s work in communities or with institutions or businesses or others. But I think the community part that you’re pointing out is important to talk about in its own special way, as well as being a part of a broader way to do experiential learning. Because I think, for too long, higher education has—there’s always been exceptions—but I think for too long, too much of the sort of, like, engagement or research that higher ed has done is seeing communities as a subject or a set of data or problems that we in higher education want to understand and bring back into our world and study.

    For a long time, we’ve understood that that’s both ethically not appropriate and it doesn’t produce the richest form of learning. The richest form of learning, I think, is co-created. You co-create knowledge. You co-create understanding with communities. When students can be part of that, it actually provides a new way of understanding what it means to be in relationship with communities.

    And hopefully that means that students take that forward when they go out into their work, because the same thing could [be applied there]. There’s a similar history within the way nonprofits and advocacy groups engage with communities, or businesses engage with communities. I think if we can model a better way of how to do that within higher ed, then that will have ripple effects into the way students, when they go out into the world, can bring that new approach to their jobs.

    Q: I’m glad that you mentioned jobs, because in the same way that students who are interested in federal or research roles right now—which I know there’s an intersection between that and sustainability and climate work—they have a lot of anxiety around this current time and the recent policy changes that we’ve seen, or different priorities from this current administration.

    I wonder if you can touch just briefly on how policy is reshaping climate [work] or how policy is reshaping the conversations around climate and the school and the work that you’re all doing helping students think about careers, given the fact that we are seeing a different set of priorities than we did under the previous administration.

    A: I’ve been in the environmental sustainability field my whole career. So that’s over 30 years, and I’ve been really working on climate for almost 20. I think sometimes it’s like, “Oh, jeez, old guy,” but there is at least one benefit to being in this work for a long time: You see the peaks and valleys. You see the way these fundamental issues of society transform and change—which is happening no matter what.

    The number of people who now say climate change is not happening is much lower than it was 20 years ago, 10 years ago. Politics affects that to some degree, on the margins, but if you look at the trend line, that is less and less the debate, and that was not the case 20 years ago, I’ll tell you that.

    In that sense, we’re seeing kind of a positive trend line of understanding that stuff is happening, so society is going to transform, whether we like it or not, because the conditions around us are changing. The question is, how do we respond? I think again, the trend line is, if we step back and look—and I don’t think this is going to change going forward—the need to address this, and the understanding of the need to address this is only going to maintain a positive trend line. Even if, right now, it seems like certain aspects of the climate response have got caught up in the political maw or munching, kind of snarly, world of politics, we shouldn’t be confused and think that that means that these issues are going to go away.

    They present a new set of challenges for us, which we should not ignore, either, which is why we need to really think hard about how to create spaces for learning and conversation around these topics that feels less politically charged—not because we want to agree or disagree with a certain political view on these issues, but so that we can bring more people into the conversation. So that we don’t lose time that we desperately need and can’t afford to lose to make progress on these issues.

    It’s definitely a challenge for us. It does not, in my view, at all represent a long-term change in the trend. I think that’s why those who care about these issues, whether you’re at the stage of trying to choose an undergraduate program or a grad program, or you’re not in the market for higher ed at all, I would not be discouraged to the point where you change something that feels meaningful to you, that feels like part of your purpose, because we need to listen to that voice, and these issues are going to have growing amounts of room for people to contribute going forward.

    Get more content like this directly to your inbox. Subscribe here.

    Source link

  • Tennessee Sues to End HSI Requirements

    Tennessee Sues to End HSI Requirements

    The state of Tennessee filed a lawsuit against the U.S. Department of Education on Wednesday seeking to nix traditional requirements for Hispanic-serving institutions’ federal designation and grant funding. The state is joined by Students for Fair Admissions, the advocacy group whose lawsuits against Harvard and the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill resulted in the U.S. Supreme Court ruling against affirmative action in college admissions.

    The plaintiffs argue it’s unconstitutional and discriminatory for the Education Department to designate grants for Hispanic-serving institutions, defined as colleges and universities where at least a quarter of students are Hispanic. Today, about 600 colleges and universities meet the criteria for the federal designation, established by Congress in the 1990s.

    The lawsuit laments that Tennessee higher ed institutions serve Hispanic and low-income students but don’t receive grants intended for HSIs because they don’t meet the enrollment threshold. As a result, the plaintiffs argue, Tennessee institutions find themselves in an “unconstitutional dilemma”—they want to enroll more Hispanic students to earn HSI status, but using race as a factor in admissions would be illegal.

    “Funds should help needy students regardless of their immutable traits, and the denial of those funds harms students of all races,” the lawsuit reads.

    The plaintiffs seek “a declaratory judgment that the HSI program’s ethnicity-based requirements are unconstitutional” and “a permanent injunction prohibiting the [Education] Secretary from enforcing or applying the HSI program’s ethnicity-based requirements when making decisions whether to award or maintain grants to Tennessee’s institutions of higher education.”

    Source link

  • A Call for Moderate Voices on DEI (opinion)

    A Call for Moderate Voices on DEI (opinion)

    In 2020, I was asked to sign a pledge that felt more like an empty confession of guilt than a productive call to action—an admission that my university, and I, were complicit in white supremacy. Signing the pledge, backed by our Faculty Senate, meant acknowledging “the University of Cincinnati is an institution founded on white supremacist values in a country founded on the same … that we have benefitted and continue to benefit from white supremacy through the opportunities, advancements, inclusion, sense of self-worth, and freedom it has allowed us … that in our complicity [with white supremacy] we have likely contributed to emotional suffering in Black people, including UC faculty, staff, and students.” The roster of university employees who signed the pledge would be posted publicly.

    I was told that my discontent was just a symptom of my white privilege and spent ample time exploring whether this was true. I put in the work, a popular phrase at the time, by reading How to Be an Antiracist and White Fragility. Maybe I had missed something and Ibram X. Kendi and Robin DiAngelo would provide clarity.

    The ideas I found were poorly constructed and dehumanizing. Ideology aside, signing a public loyalty pledge felt dystopian and counterproductive. I imagined myself as a first-year student of color who saw that my white faculty had signed a pledge admitting that the education system was designed for me to fail and that they had actively supported my failure. Why bother trying to succeed when university employees were willfully admitting to violating my civil rights?

    Over the next couple of years, I chose to remain silent whenever these ideas resurfaced out of fear that speaking out could jeopardize my career. I was told that my silence was complicity, and indeed I had been complicit in letting these toxic ideas echo without so much as a whimper. As the 2020s stretched onward, though, I noticed the loudest and most extreme voices that sometimes dominated the conversation were largely ignored, and their demands were not met. Despite calls by a vocal few, there wasn’t much appetite on campus for the “antiracist discrimination” that Kendi called for or the white saviorism promoted by DiAngelo.

    The university held firm in its moderate approach to diversity, equity and inclusion and mostly expanded resources for all students without restricting access by identity group. It is worth noting that most DEI initiatives and offices on campus offer noncontroversial services like tutoring, mental health counseling and accessibility services like sign language interpreters. But the public and politicians were forming their opinions of DEI based on the voices of those with the megaphones and lucrative book contracts.

    Last year, I enrolled in a graduate program in urban educational leadership and dived into the very discussions I had avoided for so long. I read the foundational critical race theory literature, one of the predominant theories in the DEI realm. Although I found many ideas with which I disagreed, I also found a robust field that has much to offer in terms of the ways we think about educating our students, understanding the needs of diverse communities and working together to create better opportunities for everyone. Most importantly, when I actively pushed back on concepts that I found disagreeable, it resulted in great discussions with instructors and in developing more robust ideas. I discovered there is room for debate in the DEI space and my own silence had been self-imposed.

    Many of my classmates are running the very DEI programs under threat by legislation and funding cuts. These programs provide educational resources to the underemployed and mentorship and financial resources to students who desperately need it, and they encourage student civic engagement—the very thing lauded by the Ohio Senate bill banning DEI offices and the use of DEI considerations in hiring, scholarships and trainings. (The bill, signed by the governor in March, goes into effect at the end of this month.)

    Since 2020, I have been slowly forced to confront my own fundamental assumptions that might have once led me to support legislation like Ohio’s Senate Bill 1. Blockbuster voices like Kendi’s and DiAngelo’s are not reflective of the everyday practices within my institution, and the few moments that deterred me from speaking were just moments, likely caused by the same flavor of polarization that impacts the entire country. Polarization is not just a higher ed problem, but a national problem that has been simmering for more than a decade.

    Current legislation targeting DEI upholds the most radical media-amplified voices as representative of the whole, even though these voices have been largely unsuccessful on many public campuses. Our university is not Columbia or Harvard, yet it seems as if legislators are attempting to punish our institution for the sins of its private counterparts. But when there are no loud moderate voices, how can we expect the public to see anything other than the extremes?

    I find myself at a crossroads again. I could stay silent, as I did in 2020, but the silence of moderate voices has gotten us here, and silence will only result in negative outcomes for our students, faculty and staff. The time for silence is over—was over—long ago. The caricature of higher ed that you see in political rhetoric is not reflective of my university. We must be more vocal in challenging the narrative that our institutions are ideologically captured.

    We still have much work to do in higher ed, and it’s not good enough to simply resist legislation without acknowledging the need for a renewed call for moderation. This moderation only comes when those with diverse viewpoints work together to ensure the success of all our students. This means reaffirming our commitment to understanding and addressing the unique needs of our student populations.

    We must also come to terms with emerging research that shows some practices designed to challenge oppression on campus may promote its proliferation and thoroughly analyze the impact of our actions on student success. To quote U.S. Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis, “If there be time to expose through discussion the falsehood and fallacies, to avert the evil by the processes of education, the remedy to be applied is more speech, not enforced silence.”

    We need brave, diverse voices and productive disagreement, not legislation, to bolster higher education’s mission to pursue the truth for the sake of human flourishing.

    Chris Cooper is unit head and professor in the Engineering and Applied Science Co-op Program at the University of Cincinnati.

    Source link

  • Higher Ed Should Be Very Cautious About AI “Partnerships”

    Higher Ed Should Be Very Cautious About AI “Partnerships”

    There have been several points during this era of AI availability in education where I’ve been genuinely shocked that something that seems to me to be clearly out of bounds or incredibly rash is viewed by others as quite workable, or even desirable.

    One of these is so-called AI peer review. Granted, academic research is not actually my thing, but I was under the impression that the goal of research and peer review is to deploy the reasoned judgment of subject matter experts in adjudicating whether or not a proposed new contribution is worthy of being heard and disseminated.

    The key words there are “reasoned judgment,” something a large language model may be able to simulate but cannot actually do. I am aware the system of academic peer review has become strained to breaking for all kinds of reasons, but I cannot fathom how taking a system that’s predicated on reasoned judgment and outsourcing it to a simulation is acceptable, and yet I am aware some people believe this is a solution to the peer-review bottleneck.

    Another no-go in my book that is being pursued with some measure of enthusiasm by others is outsourcing grading and response to student writing to generative AI. I do not know how to ask students to write something that is not going to be read, because I think even the most enthusiastic AI folks will admit that large language models do not read or communicate with intention the way humans do. It’s simply a betrayal of the student-instructor compact.

    I had another moment of pause while reading a recent New York Times feature on OpenAI’s push onto college campuses, featuring the California State University system’s partnership, which will make ChatGPT available to its 460,000 students in pursuit of “the nation’s first and largest A.I.-empowered university system.”

    I’ll tell you what gave me pause. For the last, what … 18 months … we’ve been receiving testimonies from many faculty across many disciplines declaring that ChatGPT (and its cousins) are essentially injecting poison into the classroom dynamics around learning, and here is one of the largest university systems in the country saying, “Let’s make sure every student gets a nice healthy dose of the stuff.”

    I can testify firsthand from the talks and faculty development workshops I’ve been giving around preserving the experience of writing to communicate and learn that this worry is very real. While the people I’ve been interacting with are engaged and adaptable, and many of them are actively exploring how generative AI could aid their students in their learning, I have yet to meet the person who thinks they have it all figured out.

    While I try not to be judgmental about these things, I can’t help but read what’s being described in that Times story and think, “That’s nuts.” This is why I’m thankful for reporting like what appears in the Times, because it gives me a chance to better understand the mindset of people who see the world so differently from me.

    While there are several examples of faculty who make use of generative AI tools in their courses and one example of a student who uses ChatGPT as a study aid, the primary voice in the article is Leah Belsky, OpenAI’s vice president of education.

    Formerly at Coursera, an early company that promised and failed to revolutionize education, Belsky has as her charge to create “AI native universities.” How you feel about these initiatives may depend on how you reflexively respond to that phrase. My response is some mix of “ugh” and “yikes.”

    One of the drier paragraphs in the entire article struck me as the most important thing we should be considering about these initiatives:

    “OpenAI’s push to A.I.-ify college education amounts to a national experiment on millions of students. The use of these chatbots in schools is so new that their potential long-term educational benefits, and possible side effects, are not yet established.”

    A national experiment on millions of students. I don’t know—to me, that sounds risky or reckless or heedless. I can’t quite decide which is the best descriptor.

    Belsky says OpenAI is starting to look into these issues. At a conference late last year she remarked, “The challenge is, how do you actually identify what are the use cases for A.I. in the university that are most impactful? And then how do you replicate those best practices across the ecosystem?”

    Good questions. Thank goodness we’re simultaneously experimenting on millions of students. This is a very good way to generate reliable data.

    A large language model would have a hard time detecting the sarcasm in that previous sentence, but I hope it’s clear to my human readers.

    For the privilege of making its 460,000 students available to OpenAI, the Cal State system is paying $17 million over 18 months. In the grand scheme of university budgets this does not sound like much, but for a perpetually strapped system like Cal State, every dollar counts. Martha Lincoln, an anthropology professor at San Francisco State reacting to the announcement, told a SiliconValley.com reporter, “This is so deeply distressing. It’s absolutely shocking. For a while we didn’t even have regular paper in our copier: It was all three-hole punch. We don’t have enough counselors on our campus. When students have mental health concerns, they’re waitlisted for weeks if not months.”

    All this is happening against a backdrop of AI companies that have overtly declared their goal is to subsume the vast majority of economic activity to their technology. Economic activity means jobs, labor, and here is a system that is supposed to empower people heading into the workforce hastening their own obviation by partnering with the company that aims to subsume those jobs to their technology.

    Personally, I think Altman is well over his skis with AI hype, but he isn’t shy about his intentions

    Ohio State apparently looked at Cal State and said, “Hold my beer,” declaring that starting in the fall, using AI in class will be a requirement. Ravi V. Bellamkonda, executive vice president and provost, announced, “Through AI Fluency, Ohio State students will be ‘bilingual’—fluent in both their major field of study and the application of AI in that area.”

    There are two important questions that go betting in this statement:

    1. Is working with AI in a field of study equivalent to learning a new language? And,
    2. If it is like a new language, what does fluency look like?

    We don’t have answers to either of these questions. We don’t even know if they’re the right questions to ask because we don’t know if treating AI competency through the lens of fluency even makes sense!

    Normally, I find the relatively slow pace of change in how higher ed institutions shift orientations frustrating, but in this case, it is the sudden lurch by some schools toward an AI-inevitable future that is baffling. It appears to be a by-product of swallowing AI hype whole. This is Ohio State president Ted Carter: “Artificial intelligence is transforming the way we live, work, teach and learn. In the not-so-distant future, every job, in every industry, is going to be impacted in some way by AI.”

    Where is the evidence of this? For sure, we’ve seen signs of some impacts, particularly around entry-level jobs, but we also may be looking at a scenario where AI is, in the words of Arvind Narayanan and Sayash Kapoor (co-authors of AI Snake Oil) “normal technology,” where the diffusion of AI through industry and society is going to follow a similar timeline to other powerful general purpose technologies like electricity and the internet.

    I am a strong believer that we must be AI-aware while carefully and purposefully experimenting with this technology, keeping student learning at the center of the equation. The overwhelming preponderance of evidence rooted in both present and past experience suggests that if (or when) generative AI has a demonstrative positive effect on student learning, this positive effect will be apparent and unambiguous. If (or when) this happens, access to the benefit will not be scarce and institutions can adjust accordingly.

    This leap into a future that does not yet exist and that we have only a limited idea of what it might be like is beyond shortsighted and has the potential to unnecessarily harm students while also delaying the ultimate adjustments that will be necessary for higher ed institutions to survive.

    Partnering with or funneling customers to companies that aim to obviate your existence and exploit your work to develop their applications while paying them for the privilege—I know I said I was trying to not be too judgmental—but, honestly, that’s nuts.

    Source link

  • How Higher Ed Marketers Can Lead With Creativity

    How Higher Ed Marketers Can Lead With Creativity

    Colleges and universities continue to compete for attention across countless platforms; this scattershot approach often comes at the expense of cohesion. But simply adding more content—made easy within the decentralized environment of many campuses—isn’t a solution to deeper strategic and directional challenges. In the famous words of Merry Baskin, “Like a shark, brands must move forward or die.” For colleges and universities, that forward motion begins with centering courageous, strategic creativity as a core operating principle and with higher education marketing leaders creating a system to ensure all are moving in the correct direction.

    I have argued that creativity continues to drive commercial value, however, investing in the intangible up front can be difficult when budgets remain static. So, our focus isn’t on only proving that creativity adds value but also showing how investing in it up front can maximize the value it creates. We need a framework for higher ed marketing leaders to establish a system for defining and embedding a culture of creativity across teams. This will help teams create more effective work and collaborate with agencies in support of institutional goals.

    Modeled loosely on WARC’s creative effectiveness ladder, this three-phase framework should help marketing leaders not only spark creativity but also systematize it as a shared method. First, start by defining what creativity means within our unique institutional contexts instead of a loose collection of ideas. Then, develop the systems, roles and language that bring that definition to life. Finally, diffuse those practices across teams and departments to embed creativity into the fabric of institutional strategy.

    Step 1: Define

    Start by establishing the foundation for creative effectiveness by aligning on what creativity means, how it’s measured and why it matters. This will bring clarity to metrics, principles and strategic outcomes so creative work can be evaluated with purpose.

    Create a shared set of key measures for creative effectiveness

    Marketing leaders must establish clear, institution-specific indicators of what effective creativity looks like. No matter how rigorous the approach, consistent application and ensuring these measures are aligned are most important. Example measures include:

    • Brand recall: Did prospective students or alumni remember the name of the institution after seeing an ad? This indicates a clear connection to the brand.
    • Distinctiveness scores: In focus groups, ask audiences to compare your marketing to peer institutions—does your work stand out or feel generic? No matter the medium, attention is the first barrier to more effective work.

    Determine principles of creative effectiveness

    Determining principles of creative effectiveness means articulating the core beliefs and standards that guide all creative work across the institution. These principles serve as guardrails—ensuring that creativity remains consistent, purposeful and aligned with institutional values. When widely understood and adopted, they help teams evaluate work objectively and make more confident, collaborative decisions. Examples can be directional:

    • Brand prominence: Brand or branding must be present within the first three seconds.
    • Distinctive assets: Consistently use the school’s signature color palette, typeface and photographic style—even on social platforms—to maintain visual recognition. Stay on brand, not on trend.
    • Commit to creativity: Use longer durations, more media channels and consistent storytelling over time to drive cumulative impact.
    • Emotional truth wins: Campaigns should connect emotionally with audiences; stories of real students often outperform statistics.

    Align key measures of effectiveness to marketing KPIs

    Marketing leaders should evaluate creative work using engagement-based metrics—such as time on page, view-through rates, social saves and content shares. These go beyond impressions to signal true resonance and provide a shared set of indicators for what effective creativity looks like in practice.

    Step 2: Develop

    Once effectiveness is clearly defined, leadership should build the internal systems to support and scale it. This phase is about ensuring teams are equipped to execute in practice.

    Identify critical roles within the institution

    First develop a network of collaborators: content producers, enrollment leaders, advancement partners, institutional researchers and/or agency teams. Map out who holds creative influence across the institution and define the roles they play in shaping, supporting and evaluating creative work. Clarity will empower contributors and reinforce accountability.

    Create a shared language for evaluation

    Marketing leaders need a consistent, responsive way to evaluate creative work. By building in intentional check-ins throughout the creative process, teams can replace feelings with shared language that sharpens feedback and improves outcomes.

    Leaders should consider three stages of evaluation:

    • Pretest: Introduce a lightweight, consistent method to test creative ideas before launch. This might include quick student feedback loops, internal scoring rubrics or pilot testing in key markets.
    • Platform: Centralize creative assets, guidelines and effectiveness learnings into a shared, accessible platform.
    • Pulse: Establish a regular cadence for reviewing the performance of creative work both in-market and in internal perception.

    Step 3: Diffuse

    With creativity defined and the right systems in place, the final step is to diffuse that culture across the institution. To drive real institutional value, creative effectiveness must be shared, socialized and scaled across departments, disciplines and decision-makers.

    Identify key working groups to deliver creativity workshops

    Start by identifying key teams or departments—enrollment, advancement, student life, academic units—that shape public-facing messages or student experiences. Bring them into the fold through collaborative workshops that unpack creative principles, show examples of effective work and introduce shared evaluation tools.

    Develop measurement frameworks aligned to department-level KPIs

    Creativity becomes powerful when its effectiveness is measured in context. That means helping individual departments or units tie creative performance to their own goals—whether it’s growing attendance at student events, boosting open rates on fundraising emails or improving reputation scores for a new academic program. By co-creating simple measurement frameworks with each team, marketing leaders position creativity as a strategic asset.

    Build a best-in-class repository for cross-campus learning

    Finally, celebrate and scale what works. Create a living archive of standout creative work, from bold campaigns to scrappy social posts that have delivered results. Share the backstory: What was the challenge? What was the idea? What impact did it have? This becomes a source of inspiration, a tool for onboarding new team members and a tangible way to reinforce these new values.

    By defining what creativity means, developing the systems to support it and diffusing its value across campus, marketing leaders can turn creativity into a measurable, repeatable driver of effectiveness.

    Christopher Huebner is a director of strategy at SimpsonScarborough.

    Source link

  • Supporting early-career academics – in all their roles

    Supporting early-career academics – in all their roles

    The conventional view of a successful career in academia is a linear pathway from academic study to post-doctoral work to, finally, academic employment. However, this traditional perspective fails to acknowledge the complexity and conditional nature of entering academia.

    Higher education has transformed rapidly into a multi-faceted environment, underpinned by teaching, research, industry experience, scholarly activity, and wider responsibilities – and early-career academics (ECAs) are critical to that academic ecosystem.

    The challenges ECAs face can be extensive: foremost among them the planning and delivering of teaching content, added to the pressure of research, publications and preparing funding applications, as well as engaging in broader activities in pursuit of career development. When coupled with the potential uncertainty surrounding contract renewal, these factors can create an environment where stress and anxiety are pervasive.

    Accessing the necessary resources, activities and support is crucial to developing a thriving career. Helping to achieve a balance between focusing on teaching, research outputs, personal wellbeing and building a strong professional network is fundamental.

    Balancing the multiplicity of roles may make this initial transition difficult for ECAs. While research output and funding success of ECAs are often closely scrutinised, there is a critical aspect of their role that tends to be overlooked and under-appreciated – their teaching responsibilities.

    Priority mismatch

    For many ECAs, the challenge lies in being assigned increasing teaching hours, often including subjects or modules that are far removed from their research or industry expertise. This can be frustrating, diverting time from research, which is typically their primary focus.

    The demands of teaching should not be underestimated. Developing module and session content, grading and providing student support all take up significant time. Combined with the need to prepare, it’s easy to see how there can be little room for research or personal development. The problem is compounded by the increased administrative burden associated with teaching, which in many universities has been on the rise in recent years.

    Moreover, teaching quality is often seen as “secondary” to research output when it comes to academic progression. This can lead to a mismatch in priorities, where ECAs are forced to choose between excelling at teaching or focusing on research to meet the expectations of the next stage of their careers.

    ECAs can be provided with research supervisors, but there can be limited opportunity to access support to discuss pedagogical methods of teaching and learning and preparation of sessions. Even when opportunities exist for ECAs to engage in collaborative networks, peer support and mentoring, engagement can be restricted by work environment such as lack of time, high workloads and isolation

    Bridging the gap

    Many ECAs receive research support, yet less focus is placed on teaching fundamentals and long-term professional development. Often, ECAs may achieve their postgraduate teaching certificate after having started teaching – and the operational guidance and pedagogical skills can often get overlooked.

    Although ECA mentorship programmes do now exist within institutions, and more accessible support is available in professional networks, few universities offer formal mentoring schemes, which would pair ECAs with more senior academics to provide guidance in navigating the complexities of academic careers, specifically on teaching and learning.

    Despite the best possible local institutional support, ECAs will often stress the hidden struggles to develop independently, stating that it is difficult to determine what is supposed to be done and how – or what they are “expected to know.” This results in ECAs finding themselves struggling to build necessary skills to assist them with future teaching commitments.

    How we put a resource together

    A formal mentoring scheme at Hartpury University led us to develop a series of infographics as a visual communication tool to assist the development and delivery of pedagogical concepts to assist teaching delivery (in the subject area of anatomy). One example can be seen here on the National Teaching Repository, with links to others below.

    This was underpinned by discussing with ECAs their needs and resources to support their own teaching journey. These resources have grown organically as an operational user-friendly guide.

    This “anatomy series” appears to have resonated with both mentors and ECAs – according to the downloads we’ve seen from the repository at key points in the academic annual cycle.

    Through a small study (n=7), we collated an illustrative selection of narratives from ECAs and mentors on their thoughts. Both ECAs and mentors reported using the majority of the infographics “somewhat” or “to a great extent,” providing positive feedback in the following areas:

    • clear, evidence-based material that is easy to digest and ready to use as a quick reference guide
    • bite-sized content for quick reference during content creation or planning
    • “user-friendly” approach with concise actionable guidance
    • visually appealing resources that enhance clarity and learning retention.

    In addition, mentors highlighted:

    • effective scaffolding and signposting for module and assessment design
    • succinct prompts as a helpful reminder of the fundamental principles to focus on with ECAs
    • accessible, shareable resource featuring clear examples for ECAs.

    Ideas for future topics provided by respondents included technology and innovation, student support and success, and lecturer wellbeing.

    For a thriving academic career

    A rewarding academic career needs the right support and balance to transfer knowledge, inspire a generation, and pursue research.

    ECAs face complex challenges – but universities can help by improving mentorship programmes, building supportive networks, and offering guidance, as well as creating user-friendly resources that assist the practicalities of teaching.

    Early-career academics are central to the academic ecosystem, yet their struggles can be overlooked, particularly within the teaching and learning environment. By establishing a more sustainable and supportive environment, we can ensure that they are able to thrive within the multiplicity of roles they are asked to take on, and contribute to the academic community for years to come.

    Source link

  • Fulbright Board Resigns En Masse Over Political Interference

    Fulbright Board Resigns En Masse Over Political Interference

    Secretary Rubio directed officials to intervene in the final stage of the Fulbright selection process.

    John McDonnell/Getty Images

    All 12 members of the Fulbright Foreign Scholarship Board have resigned over what they say is political interference in the selection process for recipients of the prestigious international grant, according to sources familiar with the program and a letter announcing their resignation Wednesday morning.

    The FFSB normally has final say in the selection process, after initial application reviews by the Institute for International Education and host countries’ Fulbright commissions. This year was different. Inside Higher Ed broke the story last month that Secretary of State Marco Rubio directed State Department officials to intervene in the final stages of the selection process, adding a new step to cull proposals they felt did not comply with President Trump’s anti-DEI executive orders.

    In their letter, posted to Substack on Wednesday, the former board members wrote that the State Department’s “unprecedented” intervention in the selection process was illegal and unethical and compromised national diplomatic and research interests.

    “Under Democratic and Republican administrations alike, the Board has followed the law, operating with independence pursuant to its statutory mandate,” they wrote. “The current administration has usurped the authority of the Board and denied Fulbright awards to a substantial number of individuals who were selected.”

    Sources familiar with the program, who spoke with Inside Higher Ed on background to avoid retaliation, said that State Department officials—led by Darren Beattie, under secretary for diplomacy and public affairs—ultimately rejected more than 20 percent of the FFSB’s selected finalists in a last-minute intervention. Of the approximately 900 approved applicants for the U.S. Visiting Scholars program, for example, Beattie vetoed roughly 200.

    Many of the proposals that were cut focused on the effects of climate change or gender disparities; others seemed to have been denied based on their inclusion of words that triggered an anti-DEI keyword search that State Department officials used to conduct their final review, according to sources inside the selection process who shared details with Inside Higher Ed in May.

    A person familiar with the program said the board members were stonewalled by high-level State Department officials throughout the process. When they learned that many of their selected finalists hadn’t received their acceptance letters by late May—more than a month later than anticipated—they wrote multiple letters to department officials asking for an explanation. None came; in fact, the person familiar with the program said the members only learned about the new step in the selection process from rumored communications between foreign Fulbright commissions and outside media reports.

    Eventually, the person familiar with the FFSB said, the board members felt they had no choice but to resign.

    The source also said that 1,200 applications from foreign faculty and researchers to the Fulbright Foreign Scholars program—all of which were reviewed and accepted by the FFSB—were still “sitting on Beattie’s desk,” and that he seemed poised to feed them through the same content filters he used on Americans’ applications.

    A senior State Department official confirmed the board members’ resignations in an email to Inside Higher Ed, calling the move “nothing but a political stunt.” The spokesperson also said that the statute in the “Fulbright Hayes Act [sic]” does not give the FFSB “exclusive and final say” in the selection process, as the members argue.

    “The 12 members of the Fulbright Board were partisan political appointees of the Biden Administration,” the official wrote. “It’s ridiculous to believe that these members would continue to have final say over the application process, especially when it comes to determining academic suitability and alignment with President Trump’s Executive Orders.”

    The FFSB is a politically appointed board; the members who just resigned were indeed all appointed by President Biden. They include some big names in Democratic Party politics, such as Jen O’Malley Dillon, former White House deputy chief of staff and chair of the Harris-Walz campaign; Mala Adiga, Biden’s former deputy assistant; and Louisa Terrell, former White House director of legislative affairs. Others are business leaders and philanthropists.

    Their resignations now open up all 12 seats, which are usually term-limited, to Trump appointees. One person familiar with the Fulbright program said the board members had factored this into their decision to resign. But after being shut out from the end of the selection process, the board members felt they had to leave.

    “To continue to serve after the Administration has consistently ignored the Board’s request that they follow the law would risk legitimizing actions we believe are unlawful and damage the integrity of this storied program and America’s credibility abroad,” the members wrote in their letter.

    President Trump’s proposed fiscal year 2026 budget eliminates nearly all Fulbright funding and would gut the Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs, which houses the scholarship. The person familiar with the program said they believe the Trump administration is narrowing the funnel for Fulbright recipients and upending the selection process in order to undermine the program without eliminating it entirely, which only Congress can do.

    If the administration continues unwinding the program, they said, they worry that the recently selected cohort will be left stranded without funding or resources once the new budget takes effect.

    Source link

  • University of Michigan has ended private surveillance contracts but the chill on free speech remains

    University of Michigan has ended private surveillance contracts but the chill on free speech remains

    Clare Rigney is a rising second-year student at American University Washington College of Law and a FIRE summer intern.

    After a news story last week that the University of Michigan was paying private investigators to spy on pro-Palestinian student protesters, the school quickly ended its contracts with the surveillance firm.

    In case anyone is unaware, the year is 2025. Not 1984.

    Now the university says this Orwellian practice has ended, but the chill on student speech will likely remain for some time.

    On June 6, The Guardian reported on the story, citing multiple videos and student accounts of investigators cursing at students and threatening them. Between June 2023 and September 2024, U-M reportedly paid about $800,000 to the Detroit-based security company City Shield to carry out this surveillance instead of using the funds to increase the size of the campus police force. 

    Several of the targeted students were members of Students Allied for Freedom and Equality, the local chapter of the Students for Justice in Palestine, causing critics to accuse the school of targeting pro-Palestinian speech.

    One student, Josiah Walker, said he counted 30 people following him at different times on and off-campus. (As a precaution, he started parking his car off-campus.) On one occasion, Walker believed a man at a campus protest was following him. The man seemed to have a speech impairment, so Walker felt bad about that assumption. However, he later saw the same man speaking in a completely normal manner. When Walker confronted him, the man pretended Walker was trying to rob him.

    The whole incident was caught on camera.

    On the recording, Walker said, “The degree to which all these entities are willing to go to target me is amazing. Guys, this doesn’t make sense. What are you doing? Leave me alone.”

    To serve their proper function, universities must facilitate an open and collaborative learning environment as a marketplace of ideas. U-M ostensibly knows this, saying it values “an environment where all can participate, are invited to contribute, and have a sense of belonging.” 

    University of Michigan – Ann Arbor

    Ann Arbor, MI

    More Info

    Surveillance and intimidation do not cultivate such an environment. U-M’s surveillance will make students want to look over their shoulders before seeking to use their right to free speech.

    The Supreme Court’s ruling in Healy v. James requires universities to uphold their students’ First Amendment rights. This extends even to students whose speech the university deems offensive or “antithetical” to the school’s goals. 

    In Healy, the Court emphasized the danger of an institution targeting a group of students as particularly dangerous based on their viewpoint, noting, “the precedents of this Court leave no room for the view that, because of the acknowledged need for order, First Amendment protections should apply with less force on college campuses than in the community at large.”

    Indeed, an important function of college is to allow students to broaden their horizons and meet different kinds of  people. And freedom of association allows them to seek out individuals whose beliefs align with theirs so that they can work toward a common goal. 

    Unfortunately, universities have used these chilling tactics against student political protestors for years. 

    Amid protests demanding sick pay for frontline workers, the University of Miami in 2020 used facial recognition technology to identify protestors. The university then hauled these students into meetings where they were forced to review Miami’s events policies.

    “The take-home message that we got was basically, We’re watching you,” Esteban Wood, one of the student protesters, later said. 

    When colleges and universities surveil students, they chill speech and promote distrust between student activists and the police meant to protect them.

    In 2018, Campus Safety Magazine revealed that the University of Virginia had contracted with a private service called Social Sentinel. This service used an algorithm to monitor students’ social media posts and, if it deemed it necessary, report them to the police.

    That same year, FIRE reported on a similar situation at the University of North Carolina. During protests over a confederate statue, a UNC campus police officer masqueraded as an approachable civilian named “Victor” in order to gain information from protesters and track their movements. Later, when students confronted “Victor” in a police uniform, he revealed himself as Officer Hector Bridges, explaining he had pretended to be sympathetic to their cause as a part of his “work.” 

    “I”m representing the university right now,” Bridges admitted on video.

    The UNC Police Department later released a statement saying the university had a practice of sending “plain clothes” officers to patrol the statue to purportedly “maintain student and public safety.”

    Chilling student speech in the name of undisclosed and unspecified safety is nothing new. But if it is serious about change, it couldn’t hurt for U-M to start with reviewing its own policies. According to its Division of Public Safety and Security, its role is to foster “a safe and secure environment” where students learn to “challenge the present.” Furthermore, U-M’s Standard Practice Guide section on freedom of speech states that when any non-university security forces are needed, they should know and follow these policies. 

    While it’s possible to imagine a circumstance where student surveillance might be necessary, colleges should keep in mind that courts have generally disfavored such efforts. For example, in White v. Davis, the Supreme Court of California rebuked the Los Angeles Police Department’s unconstitutional surveillance of UCLA students:

    The censorship of totalitarian regimes that so often condemns developments in art, science and politics is but a step removed from the inchoate surveillance of free discussion in the university; such intrusion stifles creativity and to a large degree shackles democracy.

    When colleges and universities surveil students, they chill speech and promote distrust between student activists and the police meant to protect them. That can be dangerous for both the students and the officers. Police investigations will be more difficult if the student body does not trust them enough to cooperate when needed. Students may be less likely to contact the police for legitimate violations. 

    Colleges and universities should empower their students to boldly state their beliefs. That’s simply not possible if they are also hiring outside agencies to spy on them. While we are glad the University of Michigan ended the practice, this case should serve as a reminder that such heavy-handed surveillance tactics have no place at American universities. 

    Source link