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  • 3 Questions for Professor–Turned–Learning Designer Robin Baker

    3 Questions for Professor–Turned–Learning Designer Robin Baker

    In late 2023, Robin Baker made the career pivot from assistant professor at OHSU-PSU School of Public Health to learning designer at Dartmouth College. I asked if Robin would be willing to share some thoughts about her career path, and she graciously agreed.

    Q: What motivated you to shift from a traditional faculty position into a learning designer role? What preparation and background did you bring to the work of a learning designer, and what advantages and challenges have been posed by coming from a faculty role?

    A: I decided to transition from a traditional faculty role to a learning designer position after considerable reflection on what I wanted my work and life to look like. I was in a soft money–funded position, where success often felt tied to research output and securing grants. But in practice, most of my energy went into teaching and supporting students, the parts of the job that truly mattered to me. Over time, I began to realize that the pace and structure of that kind of academic role were not sustainable for me in the long run. As I thought more deeply about what aspects of my work I found most rewarding, I realized that, in addition to teaching and mentoring, I found immense satisfaction in designing learning experiences that were inclusive, authentic and relevant. I often spent significant time redesigning assignments and activities to make them more engaging and meaningful for my students. Learning design offered a way to stay connected to the core of what I value: teaching, learning and student success.

    I brought to this role a strong foundation in pedagogy, assessment and curriculum design, developed through years of intentionally reflecting on my teaching. Whenever I noticed a strategy fell flat, I dug into the literature and experimented with new approaches, refining my practice based on evidence and observation. Another advantage that my previous life as a faculty member has provided me is that I have developed empathy and practical insight into the challenges that faculty face when trying to create robust learning experiences, provide meaningful feedback and maintain a work-life balance. I have found that acknowledging those realities and engaging in open, honest dialogue helps build trust and leads to more creative and effective solutions. Coming from a faculty background has allowed me to serve as a bridge between teaching practice and design strategy.

    At the same time, that transition has come with some challenges. In my faculty role, I was accustomed to being the sole decision-maker for my courses, so adapting to a highly collaborative environment, where I needed to influence others without formal authority, was a major shift. In this context, I had to develop strong project-management skills, work within structured timelines and production workflows, and communicate clearly across teams. Learning to navigate these processes and contribute meaningfully without directing every decision was initially difficult, but it strengthened my ability to work strategically, build consensus and support high-quality learning experiences in partnership with others.

    Q: Having now experienced life as both a full-time professor and full-time learning designer, how do the two roles compare and contrast? For someone trained for research and employed mostly in teaching (as most Ph.D.s are), what recommendations might you have for anyone else contemplating a similar career path?

    A: Having experienced life as both a full-time professor and now as a full-time learning designer, I see both roles as connected by a shared commitment to improving student learning, though they differ in scope and kind of impact. As a faculty member, I had a very immediate connection with students: teaching, mentoring and witnessing their growth in real time. That direct engagement was deeply rewarding and energizing, but it also came with heavy workloads, administrative pressures and blurred boundaries. Over time, I found that level of intensity difficult to sustain, which prompted me to reflect on the kind of work-life balance and long-term impact I wanted.

    As a learning designer, the work feels broader and more strategic. Instead of focusing on one group of students, I now collaborate with faculty across disciplines to design courses and learning environments that enhance teaching and learning for many more students. The impact is less direct but often greater in scale, as it shapes the systems and supports that enable effective teaching.

    At the same time, I think it is important to acknowledge that the loss of direct connection with students can be a real adjustment. There is something uniquely special about witnessing students’ aha moments and seeing the immediate results of your teaching. As a learning designer, that feedback loop is more indirect. Faculty are often very appreciative of our collaboration, but it does not carry quite the same emotional resonance as seeing students thrive firsthand. For anyone considering this transition, it is worth reflecting on how central that kind of direct engagement is to their sense of purpose and whether there are other ways, such as mentoring colleagues, engaging in professional development or contributing to the broader learning community, to fill that gap.

    Another concern I often hear from faculty considering this path is the fear of losing autonomy, particularly the flexibility to structure their own days or pursue creative ideas. In my experience, that depends heavily on the team and institutional culture. In my current role, which is largely remote and hybrid, there is a genuine appreciation for the whole person. We are trusted to manage our time and energy, and that autonomy is still very much present.

    The difference is that I now have a healthier kind of control. I set realistic goals for what I can achieve in a given day, while being careful not to let work bleed into personal or family time. That structure allows me to work efficiently and intentionally and it has given me space to reconnect with family, friends, community and nature. For anyone thinking about making this transition, it’s worth having open conversations about team expectations, workflows and culture. Understanding these aspects up front can help you gauge whether the role is a good fit and set you up for long-term satisfaction.

    Q: Recently, you took on an additional role as course co-director of the Capstone for the Dartmouth M.H.A. program. How does that work integrate with your learning design role, and how have you been able to balance both responsibilities?

    A: In many ways, my role as course co-director is a meaningful complement to my work as a learning designer. In this role, I serve as one of the faculty for the capstone course, guiding students as they pull together what they’ve learned across the program and apply it to complex, real-world challenges. It’s been incredibly rewarding to reconnect directly with students, something I’d missed since stepping away from a full-time faculty role.

    What makes this role even more meaningful is that I was one of the learning designers who helped faculty develop many of the courses in the M.H.A. program. Now, I get to see that work come full circle. It provides me with a unique perspective on how our strategies are implemented in practice and highlights opportunities to further refine the learning experience.

    I also appreciate how this teaching role complements, rather than competes with, my work in learning design. My design experience informs how I approach the capstone, helping me think carefully about scaffolding, alignment and authentic assessment. At the same time, teaching keeps me connected to the student perspective, giving me a firsthand understanding of how learners experience our courses. That insight flows directly back into my design work and strengthens my collaborations with faculty.

    Balancing both roles does require intentional structure and realistic expectations. I’ve learned to be clear about what I can reasonably accomplish each week and to protect time for rest, family and personal commitments. I rely on block scheduling to focus on design projects, faculty consultations and capstone mentoring, while making sure these blocks don’t spill into evenings or weekends. Maintaining these boundaries has been essential for sustaining both quality and balance.

    I’m also fortunate to have supportive leadership in both the learning design team and the M.H.A. program, who recognize the value of these complementary roles. That culture of trust and flexibility makes it possible to do both well.

    In many ways, this dual role gives me the best of both worlds: the broader, systemic perspective of learning design and the direct, human connection of teaching. Together, they keep me grounded in why this work matters and allow me to contribute to both faculty and student success in meaningful, sustainable ways.

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  • Actually, It’s a Good Time to Be an English Prof (opinion)

    Actually, It’s a Good Time to Be an English Prof (opinion)

    It may sound perverse to say so. Our profession is under attack, our students are reading less, jobs are scarce and the humanities are first on the chopping block. But precisely because the outlook is dire, this is also a moment of clarity and possibility. The campaign against higher education, the AI gold rush and the dismantling of our public schools have made the stakes of humanistic teaching unmistakable. For those of us with the privilege of relative job security, there has never been a more urgent—or more opportune—time to do what we were trained to do.

    I am an English professor, so let me first address my own. Colleagues, this is the moment to make the affirmative case for our existence. This is our chance to demonstrate the worth of person-to-person pedagogy; to speak the language of knowledge formation and the pursuit of truth; to reinvigorate the canon while developing new methods for the study of ethnic, postcolonial, feminist, queer and minority literatures and cultural texts; to stand for the value of human intelligence. Now is when we seize the mantle and opportunity of “English” as a both a privileged signifier and a sign of humility as we fight alongside our colleagues in the non-Western languages and literatures who are even more endangered than we are— and for our students, without whom we have no future.

    I’m not being Pollyannaish. Between Trump 1 and Trump 2 sit the tumultuous COVID years, which means U.S. universities have been reeling, under direct attacks and pressures, for a decade. I started my first job in 2016, so that is the entirety of the time that I have worked as an academic. I spent six years in public universities in purple-red states, where austerity was the name of the game—and then I moved to Texas.

    There have been years of insults and incursions into the profession. We have been scapegoated as an out-of-touch elite and called enemies of the state. And no, we haven’t always responded well. In the face of austerity, we let our colleagues be sacrificed. Despite the bad-faith weaponization of “CRT,” “DEI” and “identity politics,” we disavowed identity. Against our better judgment, we assimilated wave after wave of new educational technologies, from MOOCs to course management platforms to Zoom.

    Now, we face a new onslaught: the supposedly unstoppable and inevitable rise of generative AI—a deliberately misleading misnomer for the climate-destroying linguistic probability machines that can automate and simulate numerous high-level tasks, but stop short of demonstrating human levels of intelligence, consciousness and imagination. “The ultimate unaccountability machine,” as Audrey Watters puts it.

    From Substack to The New York Times to new collaborative projects Against AI, humanities professors are sounding the alarm. At the start of this semester, philosopher Kate Manne reflected that her “job just got an awful lot harder.”

    Actually, I think our jobs just got a whole lot easier, because our purpose is sharper than ever. Where others see AI as the end of our profession, I see a clarifying opportunity to recommit to who we are. No LLM can reproduce the deep reading, careful dialogue and shared meaning-making of the humanities classroom. We college professors stand alongside primary and secondary school teachers who have already faced decades of deprofessionalization, deskilling and disrespect.

    There is a war on public education in this country. Statehouses in places like Texas are rapidly dismantling the infrastructure and independence of public institutions at all levels, from disbanding faculty senates to handing over curriculum development to technologists who have no understanding of the dialogical, improvisatory nature of teaching. These are folks who gleefully predict that robots with the capacity to press “play” on AI-generated slide decks can replace human teachers with years of experience. We need them out of our schools at every level.

    Counter to what university administrators and mainstream pundits seem to believe, students are not clamoring to use AI tools. Tech companies are aggressively pushing them. All over the country, school districts and universities are partnering with companies like Microsoft and OpenAI for fear of being left behind. My own institution has partnered with Google. Earlier this semester, “Google product experts” came to campus to instruct our students on how to “supercharge [their] creativity” and “boost [their] productivity” using Gemini and NotebookLM tools. Faculty have been invited to join AI-focused learning communities and enroll in trainings and workshops (or even a whole online class) on integrating AI tools into our teaching; funds have been allotted for new grant programs in AI exploration and course development.

    I didn’t spend seven years earning a doctorate to learn how to teach from Google product experts. And my students didn’t come to university to learn how to learn from Google product experts, either. Those folks have their work, motivations and areas of expertise. We have ours, and it is past time to defend them. We are keepers of canon and critique, of traditions and interventions, of discipline-specific discourses and a robust legacy of public engagement. The whole point of education is to hand over what we know to the next generation, not to chase fads alongside the students we are meant to equip with enduring skills. It is our job to strengthen minds, to resist what Rebecca Solnit calls the “technological invasion of consciousness, community, and culture.”

    Many of us have been trying to do this for some time, but it’s hard to swim against the tides. In 2024, I finally banned all electronics from my English literature classes. I realized that sensitivity to accessibility need not prevent us from exercising simple common sense. We know that students learn more and better when they take notes by hand, annotate texts and read in hard copy. Because my students do not have access to free printing, and because a university librarian told me that “we only go from print to digital, not the other way around,” I printed copies of every reading for every student. With the words on paper before them, they retained more, they made eye contact, they took marginal notes, they really responded to each other’s interpretations of the texts.

    That’s the easy part. As we college professors plan our return to blue books, in-class midterms and oral exams, the challenge is how to intervene before our students come to class. If AI is antithetical to the project of higher education, it’s even more insidious and damaging in the elementary, middle and high schools.

    My children attend Texas public schools in the particularly embattled Houston Independent School District, so I have seen firsthand the app-ification of education. Log in to the middle school student platform—which some “innovator” had the audacity to name “Clever”—and you’ll get a page with more than three dozen apps. Not just the usual suspects like Khan Academy and Epic, but also ABC-CLIO, Accelerate Learning, Active Classroom, Amplify, Britannica, BrainPOP, Canva, Carnegie Learning, CK-12 Foundation, Digital Theatre Plus, Discover Magazine, Edgenuity, Edmentum, eSebco, everfi, Gale Databases, Gizmos, IPC, i-Ready, iScience, IXL, JASON Learning, Language! Live, Learning Ally Audiobook, MackinVIA, McGraw Hill, myPLTW, Newsela, Raise, Read to Achieve, Savvas EasyBridge, STEMscopes, Summit K12, TeachingBooks, Vocabulary.com, World Book Online, Zearn …

    As both a professor and a parent, I have decided to intervene directly. Last year, I started leading a reading group for my 12-year-old daughter and a group of her classmates. They call it a book club. Really, it’s a seminar. Once a month, they convene around our dining table for 90 minutes, paperbacks in hand, to engage in close reading and analysis. They do all the stuff we English professors want our college students to do: They examine specific passages, which illuminate broader themes; they draw connections to other books we’ve read; they ask questions about the historical context; they make motivated references to current social, cultural and political issues; they plumb the space between their individual readings and the author’s intentions.

    No phones, no computers, no apps. We have books (and snacks). And conversation. After each meeting, my daughter and I debrief. About four months in, she said, “You know, a lot of the previous meetings I felt like we were each just giving our own takes. But this time, I feel like we arrived at a new understanding of the book by talking about it together.” The club members had challenged and pushed each other’s interpretations, and together exposed facets of the text they wouldn’t have seen alone.

    The literature classroom is a space of collaborative meaning-making—one of the last remaining potentially tech-free spaces out there. A precious space, that we need to renew and defend, not give up to the anti-intellectual mob and not transform at the behest of tech oligarchs. We have an opportunity here to stand up for who we are, for the mission of humanistic education, in affirmative, unapologetic terms—while finding ways to build new alliances and enact solidarity beyond the walls of our college classrooms.

    This moment is clarifying, motivating, energizing. It’s time to remember what we already know.

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  • 5 Tips for Navigating Lame Duck–Ness (opinion)

    5 Tips for Navigating Lame Duck–Ness (opinion)

    If you are a leader, chances are you will find yourself in a lame-duck position at some point. When I announced that, after 16 years as chancellor, I would be stepping down to decompress and explore new opportunities, I thought I would be prepared. I was not. Then the calls from colleagues across industries started coming in—not to congratulate me, but to talk about the struggle of being a lame-duck leader. Their stories, filled with familiar struggles and strategies, closely mirrored my own journey. This article aims to help you navigate that transition in ways that benefit both you and your campus or organization.

    The first thing to remember is that you are a lame duck the minute you announce your departure. Most leaders believe they will have the same standing in the institution until they walk out the door for the last time. Nope. It doesn’t matter how long you have been at your institution, how important you are or how much you are loved on and off campus: The process of transition has begun. After a flurry of contacts expressing gratitude and inquiring about what is next, the phone will ring a little less each day, substantive email traffic will drop and the work calendar will free up unless you force it not to (not something I would advise). People who used to drop everything when you needed them will take a little longer to get back to you. You may find fewer consultations on day-to-day operations and even fewer on questions pertaining to the future. This trend will accelerate as new leadership becomes more defined. This is normal. Don’t take it personally.

    The second thing to remember is that if you have been at your institution for any length of time, you are likely going through a grieving process. This is the end of an important era, one in which your time and thoughts were consumed by your campus. You are going to go through some version of the five stages of grief without realizing it. You may find yourself preparing future strategic plans (denial), overreacting to comments or actions focused on the future (anger), or rushing to implement last-minute initiatives that will solidify or advance your legacy (bargaining). You may start to feel like everything you have done is being overshadowed by a campus focusing in on the excitement of a new era while leaving you behind (depression). Realizing that these stages are affecting your thoughts, moods and actions is important. The faster you can get to the fifth stage, acceptance, the better able you will be to help your campus transition in positive ways and gain a healthier attitude for yourself. However, it is important to remember that the stages of grief are neither distinct nor linear and you can be experiencing more than one at the same time.

    From my own experience and those relayed to me by others, the following tips can help you get to the acceptance stage and achieve some level of peace of mind more quickly.

    1. Focus on the needs of your faculty, staff and students. Helping to meet the needs of your employees can give you purpose in a world that suddenly has become confusing. They are also grieving, but their reality is different than yours. You’re leaving. They are staying and facing uncertainty in the future. They’re worried about the impact of this transition on their careers, jobs, colleagues and families. Their focus needs to be on the future. As the leader, your public demeanor can either add to their stress or help reduce it. Be positive, upbeat and supportive. Spend some time trying to understand the goals of people on campus and help position them for future success. I found my role became more of an adviser or mentor and less about being the boss, which had the added benefit of allowing me to engage in conversations about the future without feeling as though I had to control or direct it.
    2. Reflect on the good you’ve done and stop worrying about what will happen when you leave. I’ve seen too many leaders, including myself, spend their last days worrying about what the next administration will do to their legacy projects or trying to find a way to determine the institution’s future direction. One greatly respected leader I worked for spent the last year of his administration developing a strategic plan that was DOANL (dead on arrival of the next leader). While the intent was good, the exercise wasted a lot of people’s time, limited thinking about new possibilities and even negatively positioned a few people who became inextricably linked to the “old” ideas of the last president instead of being ready to build on the ideas of the new one.

    One of my employees was retiring just as budget cuts threatened the successful initiative she had spent 10 years implementing. On her last day, I asked her how she was doing. Her response was “I can’t control what happens to the project. It might end tomorrow. I know that I’ve had a positive impact on tens of thousands of students and teachers over the past 10 years, and I feel good about that.” That is a healthy attitude that I have tried to adopt as my own. Feel good about what you’ve done because that is what you can control. What happens next is not going to be up to you.

    1. Check your ego at the door. Let’s face it. Experiencing “your people” turning toward someone new, talking excitedly about a future without you in it or expressing a desire to end something you started will hurt a bit. You may even find criticisms of your leadership in some of these conversations. No leader is perfect, and we all make decisions that upset some of our employees. That is part of the job. However, you will be particularly sensitive during your transition time. Don’t overreact, your lame duck–ness! Take a breath and think about whether your ego is driving your reaction. If it is, step back. Keep focused on what is in the best interest of the people who will remain after you walk out the door.

    As you get closer to the end date, particularly when the new leader is named and begins the process of transitioning into office, you may find yourself fading into the background. Some egos can’t take it and their owners begin strutting their feathers around demanding attention. Others head for the shadows and disappear completely. Neither helps your campus, nor your mental state. In the beginning of my transition, I struggled to cut down the time I spent working on campus business, but I soon realized that I was filling the time with projects that would likely be DOANL. Once I realized I was working for my ego and not for the future of the campus, I cut back, rediscovered weekends and evenings, spent some time enjoying the exploration of future opportunities, and felt my mood improve. Balance your involvement. Don’t abandon, but don’t overreach.

    1. Embrace the next leader. In the end, it doesn’t matter if your successor is your long-standing archnemesis from grade school, the most annoying person you have ever met or your best friend: It is your responsibility to position the next leader for success. Be honest, but positive and supportive. Build up your successor’s strengths and positive attributes to the campus. Reach out to whoever is taking the leadership wheel and ask how you can help with the transition. Advise where appropriate, try not to judge and remember what would have been helpful to you when you arrived at the institution. At a certain point the best thing you can do is get out of the way. The worst thing you can do is create more stress and tension for the campus community by undermining or opposing your successor.
    2. Pay attention to yourself. You are a leader. You are used to keeping your emotions in check so you can focus on what is best for your campus and community. When you are asked how you are doing, you answer positively no matter how you feel and then turn the question around to focus on the inquirer. You may have convinced yourself you are feeling great, but if you are a lame duck, that probably isn’t the case, and how you are feeling may become apparent at odd times. Pay attention to those odd moments, because they’ll likely reveal what phases of the grieving process you are in.

    One of my odd moments came a few hours before my farewell dinner, which at my suggestion was a roast (fitting, given my personality). As I was getting ready, I felt sick, my pulse was racing and my blood pressure was alarmingly high. My concerned spouse commented that the event was a significant and emotional one and, by talking with her I realized that I was still in denial. Though I had been working on transitioning others, I still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that I was leaving my job forever. The farewell event was an undeniable sign that my identity and life as the chancellor were ending. Once I realized why I was stressed, my anxiety went down and we were able to enjoy an incredibly fun and heartwarming evening.

    Conclusion

    The tips mentioned above can help you maintain focus as a positive and productive leader during your lame-duck phase, allowing you to effectively navigate the complex emotions associated with leaving your campus role. It’s essential to recognize that the grieving process is not a linear sequence of emotions but rather a fluid experience in which feelings ebb and flow. By regularly checking in with yourself and acknowledging your emotions while striving to make a positive impact on the campus, you can end your tenure with the appreciation of a community that is well prepared for the future. And as you waddle out the door for the last time as a lame duck, you’ll find yourself striding confidently with enthusiasm and optimism into your next chapter in life.

    Kevin Snider retired as chancellor emeritus from Pennsylvania State University New Kensington after 16 years on Dec. 31, 2024.

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  • Redefining active learning in a digitally transformed higher education landscape

    Redefining active learning in a digitally transformed higher education landscape

    Join HEPI for a webinar on Thursday 11 December 2025 from 10am to 11am to discuss how universities can strengthen the student voice in governance to mark the launch of our upcoming report, Rethinking the Student Voice. Sign up now to hear our speakers explore the key questions.

    This blog was kindly authored by Dr Andrew Woon, Senior Lecturer in the Department of Management, Monash University Malaysia.

    After teaching in the UK for nearly five years, I returned to Malaysia and joined Monash University. There I noticed a  striking difference in the approach to teaching and learning methodologies.

    Many universities have been grappling with low student attendance, a trend particularly acute since the onset of COVID-19. Additionally, the increasingly diverse student body (including a higher proportion of students from low socioeconomic backgrounds, mature-age learners and those studying with disabilities) requires greater flexibility in learning modes to accommodate their varied responsibilities and commitments. These pressures have significantly altered the traditional image of a bustling university campus filled with students, prompting institutions to rethink how education is delivered and experienced.

    Some universities have taken dramatic steps to address these challenges, Adelaide University decided to discontinue face-to-face lectures, and many other major Australian universities have redefined their course delivery formats to incorporate digital content and self-paced modules.

    Monash University has implemented both asynchronous and synchronous learning approaches as part of its transformative teaching and learning initiatives, aligned with the Impact 2030 strategic plan. At Monash, we view the Moodle learning platform not merely as a content repository, but as a dynamic “classroom” space. It serves as an interactive environment where educators can engage students through structured modules, collaborative activities, and timely feedback – going beyond simply sharing materials and resources.

    At Monash, we have transitioned lectures to an asynchronous format, which we refer to as “own-time learning.” This allows students to engage with content at their convenience. Our tutorials, which represent the synchronous component of learning, are designed to be interactive and focused on higher-order thinking and practical application.

    The goal is to redefine active learning across both asynchronous and synchronous learning spaces to empower students to take ownership of their educational journey. With the rapid advancement of AI fundamentally reshaping the educational landscape, it is high time for bold, intentional changes in how we design, support, deliver, and assess learning.

    In an era where information and knowledge are readily accessible, we have reimagined passive lecturing by breaking it down into microlearning blocks. Traditional lectures are now delivered as short, topic-specific videos accompanied by thought-provoking questions and scaffolded learning activities. This structure prepares students for synchronous sessions by stimulating curiosity, promoting cognitive engagement, and cultivating practical skills.

    Of course, this method is not without its challenges. Many educators rightly raise concerns about how many students actually complete the pre-session “own-time learning” and how effectively they engage with the material before attending tutorials. Yet, this very concern also applies to traditional live, large lecture sessions, where passive attendance does not necessarily equate to meaningful engagement or preparation. The shift to asynchronous formats simply makes this issue more visible and measurable, prompting us to rethink how we scaffold, motivate, and support student learning across modalities.

    This transformation not only responds to the diverse needs of our student population (including those balancing work, caregiving, or accessibility challenges), but also enables more effective utilisation of physical classroom spaces. Traditional lecture theatres can be reimagined as interactive, collaborative learning environments that foster deeper engagement, peer dialogue, and practical application.

    In addition, shifting classroom activities to online spaces enables students to better plan their timetables, reducing scheduling conflicts and long gaps between classes. This flexibility not only supports time management but also cultivates essential skills in online collaboration, digital communication, and self-directed learning — competencies that are increasingly vital in both academic and professional spheres.

    The shift to asynchronous lectures represents a significant cultural change in learning, requiring adaptation from both students and educators. As educators, we must evolve from being mere content deliverers to becoming facilitators who thoughtfully design learning activities that promote engagement, critical thinking, and autonomy. This pedagogical shift challenges us to create meaningful learning experiences that guide students through inquiry, application, and reflection, rather than relying on the passive delivery of content typical of large lecture formats.

    As a result, I do not see asynchronous lectures as a lesser form of teaching or an intellectual compromise, but rather as a strategic shift that empowers students to learn at their own pace, revisit complex concepts, and prepare more meaningfully for interactive sessions. When thoughtfully designed, asynchronous learning fosters autonomy, deepens engagement, and complements synchronous tutorials in cultivating higher-order thinking and practical skills.

    I believe UK institutions should take a bold step forward, as the current format of delivery is unlikely to drive meaningful progress. The traditional reliance on large, live lectures and rigid timetabling no longer aligns with the evolving needs of students or the realities of a digitally transformed educational landscape. Embracing asynchronous and blended learning models that are paired with thoughtful curriculum design can foster deeper engagement, greater flexibility, and more inclusive learning experiences for all.

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  • In lawsuit, Pearland family blames hazing by University of Texas fraternity for son’s suicide (KHOU 11)

    In lawsuit, Pearland family blames hazing by University of Texas fraternity for son’s suicide (KHOU 11)







    Higher Education Inquirer : In lawsuit, Pearland family blames hazing by University of Texas fraternity for son’s suicide (KHOU 11)




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  • Counting the cost of financial challenges in English higher education

    Counting the cost of financial challenges in English higher education

    The financial health of UK universities has become a pressing concern, with widespread reports of deficits and shrinking operating surpluses. Yet until now, robust evidence on how these pressures shape institutional decisions – on investment, staffing, research, and student services – has been limited.

    To address this evidence gap, interviews were conducted with chief financial officers and directors of finance in 74 of the 133 higher education institutions in England between March and May 2025, covering 56 per cent of institutions.

    The study covered all TRAC peer groups, from research-intensive universities to specialist arts and music colleges. The findings reveal stark differences in financial resilience across the sector, but also common themes that underscore systemic vulnerabilities.

    A striking 85 per cent of institutions reported either an operating deficit, break-even position, or reduced surplus in the current year. Only 11 institutions – just under 15 per cent – maintained or improved their operating surplus. Even among these, financial pressures were evident, with cost-cutting and efficiency drives mirroring those in deficit institutions.

    Low research intensity institutions are most exposed, with 95 per cent in deficit or reduced surplus, while high research intensity universities fare slightly better at 79 per cent. Arts and music colleges also show significant vulnerability, with nearly nine in ten reporting financial strain.

    Strategies and trade-offs

    The origins of financial weakness vary by institutional type. For research intensive universities, the decline in international tuition fee income is the dominant concern, compounded by visa restrictions and heightened global competition. Medium and low research intensity institutions cite rising staff and estate costs, alongside pension liabilities. For arts and music colleges, the freeze on UK tuition fees was a critical issue, although face additional challenges given the liability of smallness.

    These challenges are not short-term blips. An overwhelming 97 per cent of respondents view the current situation as a structural, long-term problem. Many argue that the sector’s business model – heavily reliant on international student income and constrained by capped domestic fees – is fundamentally unsustainable. And more worryingly difficult to change in the short to medium term.

    Faced with financial stringency, universities are deploying a mix of defensive and adaptive strategies. Borrowing has been rare – only five per cent of deficit institutions increased debt – but asset sales and diversification of income streams are common. Over three-quarters of institutions are actively seeking new revenue sources, from commercialisation and estate rental to online learning and transnational education partnerships.

    Interestingly, financial pressure is not uniformly leading to retrenchment. While some institutions have closed departments or dropped programmes – particularly among medium and less research-intensive universities – many are introducing new courses, both undergraduate and postgraduate, to attract students and generate income.

    Staffing, however, tells a more sobering story. Nearly half of deficit institutions have implemented voluntary redundancy schemes, and around one-fifth have resorted to compulsory redundancies. Recruitment freezes are widespread, affecting academic and professional staff alike. These measures, while necessary for financial stability, risk eroding institutional capacity and morale.

    Counting the cost

    The ripple effects of financial constraint extend beyond staffing. Research support is under significant strain: over a third of institutions report cuts to research facilities and internal consortia. Yet there are pockets of investment – 18 per cent of institutions have increased funding for libraries and data services, and nearly one-fifth have boosted support for industrial collaborations, reflecting a strategic pivot toward partnerships and innovation.

    Student experience has, so far, been relatively protected. Most institutions have maintained spending on mental health, wellbeing, and inclusion initiatives, though career development and academic support have seen reductions in about a quarter of cases. Investment in estates is more uneven: while many institutions are deferring maintenance and new builds, over half are increasing spending on digital transformation – a clear signal of shifting priorities.

    Financial turbulence is also reshaping leadership dynamics. Nearly 90 per cent of respondents agree that leadership teams are under heightened pressure and scrutiny, with a growing emphasis on short-term decision-making. This environment is taking a toll on staff wellbeing: two-thirds of respondents report negative impacts on mental health, alongside rising workloads and job insecurity. Trust in leadership has declined in almost half of institutions, underscoring the human dimension of the financial crisis.

    Perhaps the most sobering finding is the sector’s view of external support. Over 60 per cent of respondents rated government and regional assistance as ineffective. The message is clear: incremental adjustments will not suffice. Respondents called for a fundamental review of the funding model in higher education. Without decisive intervention, the risk is not just institutional hardship but systemic decline – jeopardising the UK’s global standing in higher education and research.

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  • Only innovation can return higher education to growth

    Only innovation can return higher education to growth

    The economic impact of UK higher education is a source of great pride, but universities are under financial duress. There are many reasons for this, but one reason stands out above the others. It demands energetic innovation to avoid long-term decline.

    Not that long-ago optimism about the future of higher education was at its height. Sustained growth in participation (even in the face of the hike in undergraduate fees to £9000) saw unparalleled growth in home student enrolments, widening of access to the less advantaged, booming international enrolments, with UCAS talking about the Journey to a Million. The mood in the sector was upbeat and optimistic.

    Even then, there were worrying indicators that all was not well. The decline in student numbers in the US since 2012 carried a huge warning, and we could see shifting employer attitudes to degrees. There were clear signs that the optimism and hubris was overdone.

    Jim Collins, author of Good to Great described a conversation with James Stockdale, a US Navy pilot shot down and taken prisoner in the Vietnam war. When Collins asked which prisoners didn’t make it out of Vietnam, Stockdale replied:

    Oh, that’s easy, the optimists. Oh, they were the ones who said, ‘We’re going to be out by Christmas.’ And Christmas would come, and Christmas would go. Then they’d say, ‘We’re going to be out by Easter.’ And Easter would come, and Easter would go. And then Thanksgiving, and then it would be Christmas again. And they died of a broken heart.

    Collins called this the Stockdale Paradox, and it offers a very important lesson. You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end – which you can never afford to lose – with the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be.

    A few years on, things have changed. Half of universities are already in deficit and much has been written about the challenges of rising costs, falling real income, growing immigration controls, weakening political support, growing competition, and growing regulation. To make matters even worse, demographic forecasts show a steady decline in the number of 18-year-olds from the end of this decade. Unbridled optimism has been followed by cost-cutting with momentum building behind mergers and consolidation.

    The elephant in the room

    All this begs the question of whether this is a transient coincidence of unfortunate events or a much deeper problem. Some university leaders argue the problem is not with the perceived value of higher education, but with a media conspiracy and lack of government support. While that view has some merit it misses the elephant in the room.

    Over the last 30 years the increasing popularity of going to university has driven sustained growth in the proportion of 18 year olds making this choice. However, growth in participation at age 18 has stalled and started to decline just as we saw in the US in the last decade. It is hard to overstate the singular importance of growing evidence that demand for higher education is starting to reduce. We must respond energetically or accept its inevitability.

    Why is higher education becoming less popular than it was? Students in England have the highest debt in the English speaking world, despite most students now working their way through university. The graduate earnings premium has declined and a significant minority of students would be better off financially if they had not gone to university.

    More people now think more carefully about the economic return on their investment in higher education. These concerns about cost versus return must now unleash a much bigger conversation about how to make higher knowledge and skills more accessible and rewarding, not only at age 18 but over people’s lives.

    Lifelong learning is the future

    The global skills gap is structural and growing. People without a degree (most of us) will now need access to higher skills throughout their lives. Graduates too must acquire the higher skills needed to meet the changing needs of the economy. Higher education can provide the solutions. These needs can only be met through innovation in delivery, content, and partnership. Investment in innovation may be counter-intuitive at a time of retrenchment, but cost-cutting does not fix the underlying problem.

    We must find different models of delivery to support the changing needs of learners and reach more people with an ever-sharper focus on employer need. The evidence for demand is all around us. Millions of people (mainly adults) globally now enrol on online degree courses and tens of millions on Massive Open Online Courses (MOOCs). There is a growing consensus that meeting learners where they are through lifelong learning is the future direction of higher education.

    More universities are putting their toe in the water and setting up innovative hubs and institutes. But few embrace this idea at an enterprise level, built explicitly into strategy. Doing so requires strong leadership but also great care.

    Care to avoid the false dichotomies between knowledge and skills, teaching and research, utilitarian models of employability versus education for intrinsic good, radical change versus evolutionary adaptation. We must fiercely control quality to avoid the pitfalls we see today, particularly in franchised provision. We must build on our strengths. We need to be commercially astute as well as educationally aware.

    The US experience

    The impressive wave of innovation and growth in several universities in the United States shows what is possible. American universities expanded access to higher education well before the UK did so there are important lessons to be learned from their experience. I’m fortunate to have worked with some of them.

    Innovation in education is relatively easy. Taking it to scale is very hard but several American universities have achieved that.

    While each of the examples below is different, they have things in common

    1. They are bold, imaginative, and embrace innovation across the entire institution
    2. They embrace technology to widen lifelong learner access
    3. They are not afraid to invest in building their brand and widening their reach
    4. They stand for something distinctive that is different to elitism
    5. They put students first

    Arizona State University under the leadership of Michael Crow measures itself not through whom they exclude but whom they include and how they succeed. They have significantly increased the size of the university by investing in new faculty, innovative curricula, and immersive learning technologies.

    Online delivery is a key element in their strategy, and they reach all ages from K-12 (having established an online school) to retirement. ASU uses partnerships to great effect and has been ranked the number one “most innovative university” for 11 consecutive years by U.S. News & World Report. They co-created the PLuS Alliance which established The Engineering Design Institute in London and have just announced ASU London which will combine a three-year U.K. bachelor’s degree from ASU London with an accelerated, one-year master’s degree from Arizona State University. They have done a remarkable job in setting out a vision for the New American University combining great research with great teaching.

    Northeastern University under the leadership of Joseph Aoun built employer relationships and used them to develop a distinctive pedagogical approach built around experiential learning. They have widened access through expanding their campus footprint and through online learning using partnerships as a part of the strategy. Online access features less strongly than some but is an important element. They now have a campus in the UK and offer a “double degree” accredited both by an American and an English university. This is highly distinctive for many international students who want the option to work in the US or the UK. They clearly define themselves as a research university.

    Southern New Hampshire University, led by Paul LeBlanc from 2003–2024, has had a remarkable journey of student growth, from a relatively unknown campus with a small number of students to one of America’s largest with more than 200,000 students today. They focused first on online delivery during the 1990s and then on their distinctive Competency Model of learning and access delivered through their “College for America.” They are primarily an online university today although the campus continues to be an important part of the proposition. Unlike some other universities they achieved remarkable growth without significant partnering with so-called OPM providers. They have positioned themselves distinctively as career focused, affordable and transfer friendly which is of great importance to adult learners.

    A generational opportunity

    These universities have shown an appetite for innovation and risk, perhaps knowing the risk of inaction to be greater, but primarily being confident what they stand for and why it is distinctive. They have widened access to serve lifelong learners and they offer flexibility to traditional students too – the majority of traditional US students now do at least one class online.

    Growth in the lifelong learning of advanced knowledge and skills is perhaps the biggest opportunity in education since the GI Bill made higher education accessible to millions of people in the United States after the Second World War. In England, the Lifelong Learning Entitlement provides a welcome catalyst, but only if the ideas behind it are firmly embraced and taken to scale by innovative leaders, will the potential be realised.

    James Stockman used a combination of realism and faith to sustain himself as a prisoner. Universities will need this too, but they also hold a key to the door.

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  • Trump’s new housing policies could push another 170,000 people into homelessness (National Low Income Housing Coalition)

    Trump’s new housing policies could push another 170,000 people into homelessness (National Low Income Housing Coalition)

    Why NLIHC is taking action:

    The Continuum of Care Program exists to house people experiencing homelessness using proven, evidence-based solutions and strong local leadership. Yet, this NOFO introduces structural restrictions that contradict its stated purpose — capping permanent housing resources, weakening local decision-making, and threatening the stability of community response systems nationwide.

    As many as 170,000 more people could be pushed into homelessness if these changes stand — not as an abstract number, but as real individuals, families, veterans, seniors, youth, and neighbors in every state who depend on CoC-funded housing and services to remain stably housed.

    What this lawsuit means for our field and partners:

    We are fighting to:

    • Prevent hundreds of thousands of people from losing their homes

    • Protect proven permanent housing interventions within CoC funding

    • Defend the ability of local communities to lead response strategies using data and evidence

    • Stand with municipalities and providers working to keep people housed, stabilized, and supported

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  • Grace of Import-Replacing Inbox (Schumacher Center for a New Economics)

    Grace of Import-Replacing Inbox (Schumacher Center for a New Economics)

    The Grace of Import Replacement
    by Susan Witt

    What I first noticed about Jane Jacobs was the power, breadth, and mobility of her intellect. Only later did I recognize the equally great warmth of spirit that informed her thinking and turned it to a force of change. She stands as one of the most visionary economic thinkers of the last part of the twentieth century.

    Her intellect was breathtaking. I first heard her speak at her 1983 Annual E. F. Schumacher Lecture “The Economy of Regions.” From the podium at Mount Holyoke College she painted an image of regional economies in which myriad small industries produce for regional markets—small industries that depend on local materials, local labor, local capital, local transport systems, and appropriately scaled technology to conduct business. She pictured the fruits of this regional industry spilling over to support a rich cultural life in the city at the hub of the region. This bustling creative energy would then foster new innovation and industry, filling in the “niches” of the economy.

    The products of a regional economy would be particular to it, using the woods and stones found there—cherry tables, white cedar decks, and granite steps. The choices in the marketplace would vary with the seasons—eagerly anticipated summer berries, autumn apples, the new maple syrup in February, and spring garlic and parsnips.

    The diversity of products would require a diversity of workers with a diversity of skills, all part of a face-to-face economy of place with its multiple sidewalk contacts “from which a city’s wealth of public life may grow.” Citizens would have direct knowledge of working conditions in offices and factories and home industries; they would see the results of manufacturing practices on hillsides, fields, and rivers. Landowner, banker, shop keeper, entrepreneur, laborer, secretary, teacher, craftsman, and government official would sing together in the community choir, carpool one another’s children to school, and meet at the farmers’ market. They would see the complexity that shapes the regional economy, understand its various elements, remain accountable to each other in maintaining the web of connections that sustains it. Practiced conservationists, they would recognize the necessity of protecting and renewing the natural resources that form the basis of their economy.

    Yes, there would be products exported to other regions—but only the excess, and in moderation. Yes, there would be imports for their variety, exoticness, their sweet breath of other cultures and places. But at the core of these robust and vital regional economies would be the capacity to meet the economic, social, and cultural needs of the people of the region from within the region, not in a spirit of isolationism but in a spirit of self-determination and with the hope that other regions could achieve similar economic independence. In such a scenario the wealth of one region would not depend on exploiting the natural and human wealth of other regions.

    Jacobs believed that the best way to achieve such sustainable economies is to examine what is now imported into a region and develop the conditions to produce those goods from local resources with local labor. She referred to this process as “import replacing.”

    By contrast, the typical economic development model is for a city to use tax credits and other incentives to lure the branch of a multi-national corporation into its environs. Yet without deep roots in the local economy and local community, the same corporation might suddenly leave the area, driven by moody fluctuations in the global economy, and abandon workers and families.

    Building a regional economic development strategy based on import replacement will require appropriately scaled economic institutions to meet the needs of the local businesses.

    The elements of any economic system are land, labor, and capital: land and other natural resources are the basis of all production; labor transforms the raw materials into products; and capital organizes the labor and facilitates distribution of the goods.

    New import replacement businesses will require:

    •  affordable access to land on which to locate the enterprise and gather the raw materials used in production;
    •  capital in amounts and on terms tailored to the business;
    •  a trained, engaged, and supported work force.

    How a society shapes its institutions for land, labor, and capital will determine if it can meet these requirements. These regionally based economic institutions will not be government driven.  Rather they will be undertaken by free associations of consumers and producers working cooperatively, sharing the risk of building an economy that reflects shared culture and shared values. Small in scale, transparent in structure, designed to profit the community rather than to profit from it, they can help facilitate a community’s desire for safe and fair working conditions; for production practices that keep air, soil, and water clean, renew natural resources rather than deplete them; for innovation in the making and distribution of food, clothing, shelter, and energy; and for a more equitable distribution of wealth.

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  • Asking the Right Questions- Archer Education

    Asking the Right Questions- Archer Education

    Why Universities Need the Right Partnership Criteria 

    When a higher education institution outsources its enrollment, marketing, or student engagement efforts, the stakes are high. Missteps don’t just cost money — they cost time and, most critically, can hinder enrollment growth. Many universities make the mistake of selecting vendors that focus on chasing leads, rather than aligning with the school’s mission or long-term goals.

    Without clear partnership criteria, even well-intentioned collaborations can falter. Misaligned university partnerships often lead to disjointed campaigns and wasted resources. What begins as a lead generation effort can evolve into dependency on a vendor that operates in isolation, without being guided by the institution’s strategy. 

    The right partner, by contrast, integrates seamlessly with the institution’s mission, aligns its services with the institution’s desired outcomes, and acts as a true extension of the institution.

    The Risks of Choosing the Wrong Partner               

    The wrong partner can create more problems than it solves. Some vendors sell services focused solely on activities — ads placed, events hosted, emails sent — without tying its efforts to the institution’s overarching strategy. This approach often fails to generate real enrollment growth, causing internal teams to struggle with unqualified leads and retention challenges. 

    Another potential risk stems from failing to consider how a partner will mesh with the institution’s legacy systems. Universities invest heavily in their marketing resources, such as their customer relationship management (CRM) platforms and brand assets. A vendor that imposes its own tools without considering the university’s existing infrastructure can create costly redundancies. 

    Equally concerning are long-term, restrictive partnership contracts that lock an institution into dependency and limit its flexibility, leaving it at the mercy of a vendor whose priorities may clash with the institution’s broader objectives or evolving market conditions.

    Strategic Alignment as the Core Test               

    The foundation of any successful university partnership is strategic alignment. True partners base the services they offer on the institution’s unique goals. They view marketing, admissions, and student success teams as interconnected — not completely separate entities.

    Shared key performance indicators (KPIs) are a key component of this alignment. When both the institution and its partner commit to tracking metrics such as the conversion rate from inquiry to application, the yield rate from admission to enrollment, and the one-year retention rate, they create mutual accountability across every stage of the student journey.  

    Archer’s Growth Readiness Assessment offers a model for this type of collaboration. This tool helps an institution evaluate its readiness to scale its programs — whether they are in person or online — by evaluating the university’s internal capacity, identifying any potential hurdles, and aligning its in-house teams and external partners. Performing such an assessment early in the vendor selection process ensures the university partnership is built on a foundation of clarity and trust. 

    Procurement Criteria That Drive Success              

    When it comes time for an institution to formalize a partnership, focusing on transparency, flexibility, and accountability can make the difference between achieving sustainable growth and creating new operational challenges. 

    Institutions that emphasize these criteria are better positioned to form partnerships that deliver measurable results and long-term value. 

    • Transparency in reporting and asset ownership is vital. An institution should establish whether it will retain full ownership of the assets created and determine how often performance reports will be shared. A transparent partner will make reporting accessible and collaborative, not proprietary. 
    • Flexible contracts are another hallmark of a strong university partnership. The institution should have the freedom to pivot when markets shift or as its internal capacity grows. It should avoid rigid, long-term agreements that limit its control or create dependency. 
    • Accountability across the student journey should be among the institution’s demands. The most effective partners understand that success extends beyond generating leads and inquiries. Contracts should define what accountability looks like from marketing through enrollment and retention, with clearly articulated performance standards for each stage. 

    Integrating With Legacy Systems               

    Integration is a crucial element of successful university partnerships. A capable partner doesn’t replace or disrupt the institution’s existing systems — it strengthens them. 

    When integration is done well, the partner respects the university’s existing data, assets, and workflows, leading to a more unified, seamless experience for both staff and students. When integration is done poorly, the results can be costly, creating redundancies, inefficiencies, and siloed teams. 

    Archer’s Onward student engagement platform demonstrates how thoughtful integration can amplify an institution’s capacity without disrupting its operations. Onward uses behavior-based triggers and personalized multichannel engagement efforts to guide students from inquiry through enrollment — working alongside admissions services and complementing the institution’s existing systems rather than supplanting them. 

    By respecting the institution’s infrastructure, this kind of partnership model helps the university scale its engagement strategies without losing its operational continuity.  

    10 Questions to Ask Before Choosing a Partner

    Selecting the right partner for an institution requires more than comparing price points or promises of lead volume. The most beneficial partnerships are built on mutual accountability, transparency, and shared metrics for success. The right partner should have staff with extensive institutional knowledge and higher ed industry experience, enabling it to provide universities and colleges with the best tools to improve their operations and achieve growth. 

    Asking the right questions early helps ensure alignment and prevent costly missteps. Institutions can consider asking the following 10 questions when vetting potential partners:

    1. How do you handle internal and external communications? Institutions need to know who their main points of contact will be, and how knowledge and strategies will be shared across teams.
    2. What metrics do you use to measure success across the student journey? The ideal vendor should be able to provide full-funnel visibility and focus on metrics that truly drive enrollment growth. 
    3. How frequently will our teams review results together? Successful partnerships depend on transparency and regular communication.
    4. What have you learned from working with other institutions, and how will that inform our partnership? Vendors should always be willing to adjust their services based on past wins and challenges. They should also have the right resources to serve all of their clients with equal urgency.
    5. How will you collaborate with us to set enrollment goals and forecast program growth? Credible vendors rely on historical data to inform their projections, and take the time to carefully explore existing growth drivers. 
    6. How do you differentiate marketing strategies at the institutional level from those at the program level? Institutions can benefit from asking for examples that illustrate this distinction.
    7. What can we expect from this partnership in the first 90 days? Vendors should be able to communicate clear timelines for processes, such as onboarding steps, reporting cadence, and performance metrics. 
    8. Will our institution own all assets, data, and creative from day one? Institutions should have ownership of any assets created and have a clear understanding of how they will be shared and managed.
    9. Are there any additional fees we should be aware of? Items such as creative assets will need to be refreshed over time, so institutions need to understand what associated costs may arise.
    10. What questions do you have for us? An ideal partner wants to understand the institution’s unique needs, strengths, and challenges. Using historical data, it can shape a data-driven strategy for the institution, including realistic marketing budgets and lead goals.

    These questions establish a framework for transparency, accountability, and scalability — ensuring the partnership begins from a place of trust and aligned goals.

    Key Takeaways

    • Effective university partnerships start with asking the right questions.
    • When your institution prioritizes alignment, accountability, and integration, you can avoid critical missteps.
    • The right partner will strengthen — not replace — your institutional vision and help equip you to scale sustainably.

    Build University Partnerships That Advance Your Goals

    At Archer Education, we work with accredited universities to build strategic partnerships rooted in a shared vision that drive scalable enrollment growth. With decades of higher ed experience, our team of industry experts has developed a flexible partnership model that supports internal growth, so that institutions can build self-sufficiency over time. 

    Contact our team to learn how our tech-enabled marketing, enrollment, and retention services can support your institution’s long-term goals. 

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