Tag: HESA

  • The Trudeau Legacy | HESA

    The Trudeau Legacy | HESA

    I don’t know about you, but I find all the writing about the Trudeau legacy pretty goddamn annoying. Weeks and weeks of columnists yelling “resign!” followed by weeks and weeks of the same columnists yelling “he didn’t do it fast enough!” All true; all deeply boring. But since this is basically the blog of record for the sector, it would be weird to let the man leave without an assessment of his effect.

    So here goes:

    The early years

    A lot of people were probably more excited about Trudeau’s win in 2015 than they should have been. The Chretien/Martin regime of the late 1990s and early 2000s was the most pro-science /education in Canadian history. In comparison, the Conservative government of Harper government seemed pretty bad, even though its record on funding postsecondary education was much better than it usually got credit for (its attitude towards government scientists was a different matter entirely). A lot of people assumed that a new Liberal government was just going to reset to the status quo ante, even if that was never really very likely.

    It is worth recalling that , in the 2015 election, the Liberals were the party that promised the least, financially in terms of postsecondary education. Sure, in opposition, Trudeau mused about higher education a fair bit, which made him seem progressive without actually requiring him to do anything (remember his idea of targeting a rise in postsecondary attainment rates from 50% to 70%? Me neither until I started going through my files—it was never going to happen). But basically, he was coasting on the reputation of the previous Liberal administration.

    There was one great move early on, with respect to phasing out (untargeted) education tax credits and investing the proceeds in income-targeted student grants, a measure which allowed some provinces (like Ontario and New Brunswick) to at least temporarily (until vindictive Conservative governments came to power) re-arrange their aid programs to deliver targeted free-tuition programs for lower-income students. This saved the government money over the course of the Liberals’ first term (it was meant to be revenue-neutral, but that depended on an increase in spending in the 2019 budget which didn’t happen until the COVID emergency—see below).

    The Liberals did a lot of other stuff in that first Trudeau term; just not much that was either coherent or lasting. On research funding, the government asked former U of T President David Naylor to advise them on how to run research councils, and when he did they proceeded to take about two-thirds of his advice on the actual amount of funding and well under a quarter of what he recommended in terms of how to manage that funding (it totally ignored the bit about giving up its boutique funding programs, for instance). On its prime innovation strategy—the so-called “superclusters,” which still exist, now devoid of any regional dimension—which the deeply problematic techbro-loving Minister of the era, Navdeep Bains, would create a set of “made-in-Canada silicon valleys”, well…you can read about them here, but they are so embarrassing it’s probably better to pass over them in silence.

    There was a lot of money thrown at Skills Training in Budget 2017 and most of it seemed reasonably sensible, but it’s hard to work out how much good any of it did. This government—unlike the Martin/Chretien Liberals—really doesn’t like evaluating its own spending. And certainly the government never really followed this up or turned it into something coherent. An attempt to create a national training benefit in Budget 2019 which seemed like a promising idea at the time but has basically dissolved into thin air because there has been little attempt to promote the program(s). Steps were taken towards better funding for indigenous postsecondary education, but that effort subsequently got bogged in the details.

    And this is pretty much the story of Liberal policymaking in general in postsecondary education (and arguably a lot of other policy fields, too): lots of good ideas, not very good at sustaining the attention necessary to execute them properly and make them work. This is what happens when you govern according to the 24-hour news cycle and not the long-term success of the nation.

    The COVID Years (Second term)

    Less than six months after being narrowly re-elected in 2019, COVID arrived. Broadly speaking, the government’s initial instincts were pretty good: do anything to keep the economy going while we figured out how to live with the virus and waited for the vaccines to arrive. In higher education, that meant pouring a ton of money into an emergency student aid benefit (the Canada Emergency Student Benefit) than turned out to be actually necessary (see my take on what really happened during covid and emergency benefits). I’m not particularly inclined to see this as a failure: hindsight is easy, but given how crazy everything was in spring 2020 I’m inclined to give them a pass on one-time cash handouts. Same with the backstopping of university research expenditures in this period.

    What was less forgivable was the tendency to view the brief shift of the Overton Window towards government intervention either as something semi-permanent or as an invitation to extreme hubris. The decision to double the Canada Education Student Grant from $3000 per year to $6000 per year for 2020-21 was probably justifiable: extending it for another two years and then abruptly cancelling it in the 2023 budget was probably not. And then of course there was the WE Charity/Canada Student Summer Grant fiasco. Hubris combined with a lack of execution will kill you every time.

    Post-COVID (Third term)

    The Liberals narrowly won the 2021 election and then basically went to sleep until the summer of 2023 when it suddenly dawned on them that they were hated by pretty much the entire country, mainly because of inflation but especially housing inflation which was blamed (with some justification) on a rapid influx of international students, particularly (but not exclusively) to Ontario Community Colleges. The influx was not the Liberals’ fault in the least—for this you can blame some combination of a decade or more of provincial underfunding and some truly wild-ass empire-building by a handful of college Presidents—but they were somewhat slow to react. Somehow, they got tagged with responsibility for the problem, and so their Immigration Minister, Marc Miller, set out to solve it.

    And so in January 2024, with all of the wit and wisdom that comes from occupying the strategic intersection between arrogance and ignorance in which official Ottawa perpetually resides, by gum, the Trudeau introduced a solution (actually two: there was a second policy package in September which was designed specifically to screw with the college sector). It was a national solution to an essentially regional (southern Ontario) problem, and it hammered postsecondary finances across the country. Some of it was necessary; much of it was not. My estimate of the changes are in the range of $3-4 billion range, with job losses in the tens of thousands. And to a considerable extent, it was the violent, sudden change in international policy combined, deliberately adopted in a manner which was contemptuous of the sector, which is how this Government will be remembered by the sector.

    Meanwhile, the feds went on an epic bout of fumbling the research and innovation files. In election 2021, Trudeau promised a Canadian version of DARPA. Budget 2022 turned that into a new Canada Innovation Corporation, which was then basically punted into the long grass because, well, Trudeau couldn’t focus long enough to figure out how to make it work. Then, Inflation ate away the entire value of the big Naylor-induced research package of 2018. That led to a new research package in Budget 2024 worth $1.8 billion (88% of which does not come online until after the next election, it’s so anyone’s guess how much of it ever materializes), accompanied by a raft of new ideas from a panel chaired by Frédéric Bouchard about how to manage curiosity-driven research. The money has now been allocated (in theory), but the feds are not close to working out changes to management. All was supposed to be revealed in the 100% unlamented Fall Economic Statement, but again the Liberals punted. Couldn’t make a decision.

    (Simultaneously, the government utterly botched the roll out of the Strategic Science Fund. No one has ever written about this and I’m not going to tell tales out of school—at least not today—but trust me, this was a time-wasting fiasco of enormous proportions.)

    The Verdict

    At the end of the first term, I compared the Trudeau record with that of the Harper government, and noted that the difference wasn’t as big as you’d think—probably more about vibes than about money (I got some snotty “how dare you” comments from Liberal partisans on that one). And I think that’s still my verdict. The Trudeau government wanted to be known as “pro-Science” and “pro-education.” It just didn’t want to put in the money or the sustained policy attention required to actually be effective. Sometimes the casual inattention to policy details just made spending ineffective; sometimes (as in the case of international student visas) it hurt institutions.

    Either way, the cavalier attitude to substance began to wear thin a long time ago. I don’t think many in the post-secondary sector will view the Trudeau era with much fondness.

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  • College Financials 2022-23 | HESA

    College Financials 2022-23 | HESA

    StatsCan dropped some college financial data over the XMAS holidays.  I know you guys are probably sick of this subject, but it’s still good to have some national data—even if it is eighteen months out of date and doesn’t really count the last frenzied months of the international student gold rush (aka “doing the Conestoga”).  But it does cover the year in which everyone now agrees student visa numbers “got out of control,” so there are some interesting things to be learned here nonetheless.

    To start, let’s look quickly at college income by source.  Figure 1, below, shows that college income did rise somewhat in 2022-23, due mainly to an increase in tuition income (up 35% between the nadir COVID year of 20-21 and 22-23).  But overall, once inflation is taken into account, the increase in college income really wasn’t all that big: about a billion dollars in 2021-22 and about the same again in 2022-23, or about 6-7% per year after inflation.  Good?  Definitely.  Way above what universities were managing, and well above most sectors internationally?  But it’s not exactly the banditry that some communicators (including the unofficial national minister of higher education, Marc Miller) like to imply.

    Figure 1: College Income by Source, Canada, 2017-18 to 2022-23, in Billions of $2022

    Now I know a few of you are looking at this and scratching your heads, asking what the hell is going on in Figure 1.  After all, haven’t I (among others) made the point about record surpluses in the college sector?  Well, yes.  But I’ve only ever really been talking about Ontario, which is the only province where international tuition fees have really taken flight.  In Figure 2, I put the results for Ontario and for the other nine provinces side-by-side.  And you can see how different the two are.  Ontario has seen quite large increases in income, mainly through tuition fees and by ancillary income bouncing back to where it was pre-COVID, while in the other nine provinces income growth is basically non-existent in any of the three categories.

    Figure 2a/b.  College Income by Source, Ontario vs Other Nine Provinces, 2017-18 to 2022-23, in Billions of $2022

    (As an aside, just note here that over 70% of all college tuition income is collected in the province of Ontario, which is kind of wild.  At the national level, Canada’s college sector is not really a sector at all…their aims, goals, tools, and income patterns all diverge enormously.)

    Figure 3 drills down a little bit on the issue of tuition fee income to show where they have been growing and where they have not.  One might look at this and think its irreconcilable with Figure 2, since tuition fees in the seven smaller provinces seem to be increasing at a rate similar to Ontario.  What that should tell you, though, is that the base tuition from which these figures are rising are pretty meagre in the seven smallest provinces, and quite significant in Ontario.  (Also, remember that in Ontario, domestic tuition fees fell by over 20% or so after inflation between 2019-20 and 2022-23, so this chart is actually underplaying the growth in international fees in that province a bit.)

    Figure 3: Change in Real Aggregate Tuition Income by Province, 2017-18 to 2022-23, (2017-18 = 100)

    Now I want to look specifically at some of the data with respect to expenditures and to try to ask the question: where did that extra $2.2 billion that the sector acquired in 21-22 and 22-23 (of which, recall, over 70% went to Ontario alone) go?

    Figure 4 answers this question in precise detail, and once again the answer depends on whether you are talking about Ontario or the rest of the country.  The biggest jump in expenditures by far is “contracted services” in Ontario—an increase of over $500M in just two years.  This is probably as close a look as we will ever get at the economics of those PPP colleges that were set up around the GTA since most of this sum is almost certainly made up of public college payments to those institutions for paying the new students had arrived in those two years.  If you assume the increase in international students at those colleges was about 40,000 (for a variety of reasons, an exact count on this is difficult), then that implies that colleges were paying their PPP partners about $12,500 per student on average and pocketing the difference, which would have been anywhere between about $2,500 and $10,000, depending on the campus and program.  And of course, most of the funds spent on PPP were spent one way or another on teaching expenses for these students.

    Figure 4: Change in Expenditures/Surplus, Canadian Colleges 2022-23 vs 2020-21, Ontario vs. Other 9 Provinces, in millions of 2022

    On top of that, Ontario colleges threw an extra $300 million into new construction (this is a bit of an exaggeration because 2020-21 was a COVID year and building expenses were abnormally low), and an extra $260 million (half a billion in total) thrown into reserve funds for future years.  This last is money that probably would have ended up as capital expenditures in future years if the feds hadn’t come crashing in and destroying the whole system last year but will now probably get used to cover losses over the next year or two instead.  Meanwhile, in the rest of Canada, surpluses decreased between 2020-21 and 2022-23, and such spending increases as occurred came mostly under the categories “miscellaneous” and “ancillary enterprises.”

    2022-23 of course was not quite “peak international student” so this analysis can’t quite tell the full story of how international students affected colleges.  We’ll need to wait another 11 months for that data to show up.  But I doubt that the story I have outlined based on the data available to date will not change too much.  In short, the financials show that:

    • Colleges outside Ontario were really not making bank on international students.
    • Within Ontario, over a third of the additional revenue from international students generated in the 2020-21 to 2022-23 period was paid out to PPP partners, who would have spent most of that on instruction.
    • Of the remaining billion or so, about a third went into new construction and another 20% was “surplus,” which probably meant it was intended for future capital expenditure.
    • The increase in core college salary mass was miniscule—in fact only about 3% after inflation. 

    If there was “empire building” going on, it was in the form of constructing new buildings, not in terms of massive salary rises or hiring sprees. 

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  • Deafening Silence on PIAAC | HESA

    Deafening Silence on PIAAC | HESA

    Last month, right around the time the blog was shutting down, the OECD released its report on the second iteration of the Programme for International Assessment for Adult Competencies (PIAAC), titled “Do Adults Have the Skills They Need to Thrive in a Changing World?”. Think of it perhaps as PISA for grown-ups, providing a broadly useful cross-national comparison of basic cognitive skills which are key to labour market success and overall productivity. You are forgiven if you didn’t hear about it: its news impact was equivalent to the proverbial tree falling in a forest. Today, I will skim briefly over the results, but more importantly, ponder why this kind of data does not generate much news.

    First administered in 2011, PIAAC consists of three parts: a test for literacy, numeracy, and what they call “adaptive problem solving” (this last one has changed a bit—in the previous iteration it was something called “problem-solving in technology-rich environments). The test scale for is from 0 to 500, and individuals are categorized as being in one of six “bands” (1 through 5, with 5 being the highest, and a “below 1,” which is the lowest). National scores across all three of these areas are highly correlated, which is to say that if country is at the top or bottom, or even in the middle on literacy, it’s almost certainly pretty close to the same rank order for numeracy and problem solving as well. National scores all cluster in the 200 to 300 range.

    One of the interesting—and frankly somewhat terrifying—discoveries of PIAAC 2 is that literacy and numeracy scores are down in most of the OECD outside of northern Europe. Across all participating countries, literacy is down fifteen points, and numeracy by seven. Canada is about even in literacy and up slightly in numeracy—this is one trend it’s good to buck. The reason for this is somewhat mysterious—an aging population probably has something to do with it, because literacy and numeracy do start to fall off with age (scores peak in the 25-34 age bracket)—but I would be interested to see more work on the role of smart phones. Maybe it isn’t just teenagers whose brains are getting wrecked?

    The overall findings actually aren’t that interesting. The OECD hasn’t repeated some of the analyses that made the first report so fascinating (results were a little too interesting, I guess), so what we get are some fairly broad banalities—scores rise with education levels, but also with parents’ education levels; employment rates and income rise with skills levels; there is broadly a lot of skill mis-match across all economies, and this is a Bad Thing (I am not sure it is anywhere near as bad as OECD assumes, but whatever). What remains interesting, once you read over all the report, are the subtle differences one picks up in the results from one country to another.

    So, how does Canada do, you ask? Well, as Figure 1 shows, we are considered to be ahead of the OECD average, which is good so far as it goes. However, we’re not at the top. The head of the class across all measures are Finland, Japan, and Sweden, followed reasonably closely by the Netherlands and Norway. Canada is in a peloton behind that with a group including Denmark, Germany, Switzerland, Estonia, the Flemish region of Belgium, and maybe England. This is basically Canada’s sweet spot in everything when it comes to education, skills, and research: good but not great, and it looks worse if you adjust for the amount of money we spend on this stuff.

    Figure 1: Key PIAAC scores, Canada vs OECD, 2022-23

    Canadian results can also be broken down by province, as in Figure 2, below. Results do not vary much across most of the country. Nova Scotia, Ontario, Saskatchewan, Manitoba, Prince Edward Island, and Quebec all cluster pretty tightly around the national average. British Columbia and Alberta are significantly above that average, while New Brunswick and Newfoundland are significantly below it. Partly, of course, this has to do with things you’d expect like provincial income, school policies, etc. But remember that this is across entire populations, not school leavers, and so internal immigration plays a role here too. Broadly speaking, New Brunswick and Newfoundland lose a lot of skills to places further west, while British Columbia and Alberta are big recipients of immigration from places further east (international migration tends to reduce average scores: language skills matter and taking the test in a non-native tongue tends to result in lower overall results).

    Figure 2: Average PIAAC scores by province, 2022-23

    Anyways, none of this is particularly surprising or perhaps even all that interesting. What I think is interesting is how differently this data release was handled from the one ten years ago. When the first PIAAC was released a decade ago, Statistics Canada and the Council of Ministers of Education, Canada (CMEC) published a 110-page analysis of the results (which I analyzed in two posts, one on Indigenous and immigrant populations, and another on Canadian results more broadly) and an additional 300(!)-page report lining up the PIAAC data with data on formal and informal adult learning. It was, all in all, pretty impressive. This time, CMEC published a one-pager which linked to a Statscan page which contains all of three charts and two infographics (fortunately, the OECD itself put out a 10-pager that is significantly better than anything domestic analysis). But I think all of this points to something pretty important, which is this:

    Canadian governments no longer care about skills. At least not in the sense that PIAAC (or PISA for that matter) measures them.

    What they care about instead are shortages of very particular types of skilled workers, specifically health professions and the construction trades (which together make up about 20% of the workforce). Provincial governments will throw any amount of money at training in these two sets of occupations because they are seen as bottlenecks in a couple of key sectors of the economy. They won’t think about the quality of the training being given or the organization of work in the sector (maybe we wouldn’t need to train as many people if the labour produced by such training was more productive?). God forbid. I mean that would be difficult. Complex. Requiring sustained expert dialogue between multiple stakeholders/partners. No, far easier just to crank out more graduates, by lowering standards if necessary (a truly North Korean strategy).

    But actual transversal skills? The kind that make the whole economy (not just a politically sensitive 20%) more productive? I can’t name a single government in Canada that gives a rat’s hairy behind. They used to, twenty or thirty years ago. But then we started eating the future. Now, policy capacity around this kind of thing has atrophied to the point where literally no one cares when a big study like PIAAC comes out.

    I don’t know why we bother, to be honest. If provincial governments and their ministries of education in particular (personified in this case by CMEC) can’t be arsed to care about something as basic as the skill level of the population, why spend millions collecting the data? Maybe just admit our profound mediocrity and move on.

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  • More Eating the Future | HESA

    More Eating the Future | HESA

    Morning everyone. Welcome back. Some statistical wonkery today, with respect to the analysis of government expenditures on postsecondary education.

    Many of you will recognize Figures 1 and 2 from earlier blogs or the State of Postsecondary Education 2024. They represent the two most-common ways to look at commitments to postsecondary education: the first in per-student terms, and the second in per-GDP terms.

    Figure 1: Provincial Expenditures per FTE Student by Sector, 2022-23

    Figure 2: Provincial PSE Expenditures, by Sector, as a Percentage of Provincial GDP, 2022-23

    These two approaches have their respective strengths and weaknesses, and not surprisingly they generate slightly different conclusions about how strong each jurisdiction’s efforts are writ to postsecondary education, one focused on the “recipients” of funding (students) and the other focused on the source of the funding (the local economy). Neither is definitive, both are useful.

    But there is another way to look at this funding, and that is not to look at how much institutions receive as a proportion of local jurisdictional output, but to look at what percentage of government spending is devoted to educational institutions. Examined over time, this figure tells you the changing status of postsecondary education compared to other policy priorities; examined across provinces, it can tell you which provinces put more emphasis on postsecondary education. Of course, no one tracks this in Canada, because it involves a lot of tedious mucking around in government documents, but what is this blog for if not precisely that? I wasn’t doing anything on my holidays anyways.

    So I decided to pair my long-term data series on provincial budgets (the most recent one posted back in April), with a new data series on total provincial spending which I derived simply by looking at consolidated expenditures in each province since 2006 and expressed in these same budgets. Usual disclaimers apply: provincial spending definitions aren’t entirely parallel (or at least they use different words to describe what they are doing) particularly with respect to capital, so inter-provincial comparisons are probably a tiny bit apples-to-oranges even if each province’s data is consistent over time. Take the exact numbers with a grain of salt but I think they will mostly stand up to scrutiny.

    Figure 3 shows provincial transfers on postsecondary institutions across all ten provinces as a percentage of total provincial spending. And it’s…well, it’s not good. As recently as 2011-12, provinces spent five percent of their budgets on postsecondary education. Now it’s three and a half percent. Or to put it another way, as a proportion of total spending, it’s down by about thirty percent.

    Figure 3: Provincial Spending on PSE as a Percentage of Total Provincial Spending, Canada, 2006-07 to 2024-25

    Is this due to particular events in particular provinces? Not really. Let’s just take a look at the four big provinces (which make up 85% of the postsecondary system. The provinces all started in different places (Alberta, famously, spent a heck of a lot more than other provinces back in the day) and the slope of decline is gentler in Quebec than elsewhere, but the basic path of decline and the eventual destination is similar everywhere. Notable by its absence in any of the four provinces are any clear break-lines which coincide with a change in administration—these declines are pretty consistent regardless of whether governments are left, right, or centre. It’s not a partisan thing.

    Figure 4: Provincial Spending on PSE as a Percentage of Total Provincial Spending, Selected Provinces, 2006-07 to 2024-25

    Figure 5 shows each province’s performance both in 2006-07 and 2024-25. As can clearly be seen, every province saw a decline over the 18-year period. This was not especially driven by one or two provinces: all provinces seem to have come to an identical conclusion that postsecondary institutions are not worth investing in. The size of whatever drop was in most cases inversely proportionate to how high spending was back in the initial period. The biggest drops were in Alberta and Newfoundland, which back in the day were the two highest spenders, riding high as they were on oil revenues. The smallest drop was New Brunswick, which was the weakest performer back in 2006-07. Ontario…is Ontario. But basically, the entire country is converging on the idea that investments in postsecondary need to be in the 2.5%-4.5% range rather than in the 4-7.5% range as they did 20 years ago.

    Figure 5: Provincial Spending on PSE as a Percentage of Total Provincial Spending, by Province, 2006-07 vs 2024-25

    Now, the obvious conclusion you might draw from this is “hey! Huge declines in public support for public postsecondary education!” But this is not quite correct. Remember: these are ratios we are looking at. Some of the delta will be due to changes in the numerator, some will be due to changes in the denominator. Figure 6 shows changes in both postsecondary spending and total provincial spending. And what’s clear is that the changes we have been examining in Figures 3 and 6 have more to do with the expansion of total spending rather than a decline in PSE spending.

    Figure 6: Real Change Provincial Spending on PSE Institutions vs Real Change Total Provincial Spending, Canada, 2006-07 to 2024-25 (2006-07 = 100)

    That increase in provincial spending in the last decade—30% over and above inflation—is wild. And deeply inconvenient for anyone who wants to build a narrative around generalized “austerity.” But what is clear here is:

    1. transfers to universities and colleges have trailed provincial spending everywhere and without reference to ideology of the governments in question, and
    2. ii) if transfers had not trailed general spending, they would be roughly $9.5 billion better off than they are today.

    And by a simply *amazing* coincidence, $9.5 billion–in real dollars—is almost identical to the increase in income  postsecondary institutions have seen in revenue from international students over the same period (it’s about a $9.2 increase from 2007-08 to 2022-23, the last year for which we have useful data—the 2024-25 is likely somewhat higher but we don’t know by how much).

    There a number of conclusions one could draw from this, but the ones I draw are:

    • Governments are spending more. A lot more. They just aren’t spending on PSE. Instead, they are spending it on an ageing population and other things that juice consumption. Eating the future, basically.
    • The drop in government support for PSE relative to overall spending increases is universal. No government provides any evidence of contrarian thinking. None of them think PSE is worth greater investment.
    • Changes of government are also almost irrelevant. They may change the “vibe” around postsecondary education, but they don’t change financial facts on the ground.
    • There is a really basic argument about the value of postsecondary education which somehow, postsecondary institutions are losing with governments and, I think by implication, the public. That, and nothing else, needs to be the focus of institutional efforts on external relations.

    Provincial governments are eating the future. But the data above, showing that the trend transcends geography and political ideology suggests that at base, the problem is that the Canadian public does not think postsecondary education is worth investing in. Working out how to reverse this view really needs to be job one for the whole sector.

    (Or, to be a bit cuter: the sector needs to do a lot less Government Relations and a lot more Community Relations.)

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  • Fall and Rise | HESA

    Fall and Rise | HESA

    Fall and Rise

    The question I am getting more often than any other these days is: “what are you hearing about cuts at colleges and universities?” And my answer for the most part has been: “damned if I know.”

    The reason for my confusion is that publicly available details are few and far between. The HESA Towers team has been scouring the public record for details on institutional budget announcements; by our count, only 34 universities or colleges have so far announced anything concrete about their 25-26 budget plans and/or any planned cuts as a result of changing international student numbers. It’s possible more have been announced internally but just not caught the notice of the local press; we’ll be doing a lot more digging over the next couple of weeks. My guess is that many institutions are trying to avoid bad headlines by simply not going public about any plans to cut…but of course in the process, they are making it harder to convey to the public the magnitude of the downsizing being forced on the sector.

    (This is a really interesting version of the Tragedy of the Commons!).

    Some additional problems with the data: such information as one can glean from public sources is often skimpy and inconsistent: sometimes you get a figure for “loss of anticipated revenue,” sometimes you get a “projected deficit” (which sometimes is for 24-25, and other times for 25-26, and whether the figure is for operating budget or total budget take a bit of digging). Sometimes the numbers of programs being cut are announced but the identity of the programs is secret. Often you see that there will be budget cuts of $X million but there is no clarity about where those cuts will come from or the timeframe for the return to budget balance. In terms of job “cuts” as near as we can tell only five institutions have announced specific numbers for layoffs which have actually so far occurred, for a total of 214 lost jobs. You may have seen higher estimates from other sources, but these seem to include data on jobs which “will be affected” and it’s not 100% clear how many of these are permanent jobs which will be eliminated vs. permanent posts which will not be filled, or contract jobs which will not be renewed. All of these nuances may sound petty, but it’s really hard to get meaningful numbers unless you get this stuff right.

    The story of how universities and colleges deal with the sudden loss of international student income (and the long-term consequences of provincial disinvestment) is the biggest and most consequential story in Canadian postsecondary education this century. How we deal with this collectively will shape the sector for over a decade, maybe even out to 2050. The HESA Towers team is working hard to document what is happening and help the sector make sense of fast-moving events and respond appropriately. So today I want to tell you about two initiatives we’re launching.

    The first is a Retrenchment Watch, which will follow developments in institutional cutbacks not just in Canada, but around the world (albeit with a particular focus on the anglosphere). Higher education probably hit peak public funding around the globe over a decade ago, but what we’re now seeing is an actual contraction of the sector as a whole, happening via an un-coordinated set of decisions made by individual institutions according to local imperatives. Understanding how this is happening is of great importance, not just for posterity but for present-day decision makers. And we’ll be making this information freely available to all via Retrenchment Watch.

    For the moment, the Retrenchment Watch is extremely bare bones, but we’ll be filling it out very quickly over the next few weeks, with the Canadian institutions first. If you want regular updates on who is cutting what as well as some basic pattern analysis, please fill out this form, and we’ll get you signed up to our newsletter so you’re always up-to-date.

    The second is what we are calling “The Recovery Project.” We know that institutional leaders aren’t just thinking about surviving cuts, they’re also thinking about how to position their organizations to thrive in the aftermath. To help them, we’re launching a subscription research project looking at universities and colleges around the world who have faced serious financial sustainability problems over the past three decades and examining how they turned their fortunes around. In a crisis, there’s no time to re-invent the wheel: with this research institutions can understand better what works, when and why. By spreading the cost of research collectively across many institutions, we can offer this premium product—which involves monthly reports and webinar sessions for all members—at a huge discount to individual schools (and if your school is a member of the University Vice-President’s Network, we’ll be offering an even bigger discount).

    If you’re interested in joining this project, my colleague Tiffany MacLennan has been working to bring this information together. Email her at tmaclennan@higheredstrategy.com and we’ll get back to you ASAP with a prospectus.

    There’s no disguising how the sector is taking a beating right now. It will recover. The only question is how quickly, and which institutions will be at the forefront.

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  • Late 2024 Book Reviews | HESA

    Late 2024 Book Reviews | HESA

    Morning all. You know it’s getting towards XMAS when I start writing about the higher education books I’ve read recently. So, yes, those are Christmas bells ringing you can hear as you open this email and perusing my takes on the stuff I’ve read since Canada Day (I’ve already posted my January-June takes). Hopefully you can find a stocking stuffer or two in here for your own higher education nerd.

    To start with the non-higher ed stuff. On the fiction side, I’m not having a great year. I think my favourite in the past six months have been Reputations by Juan Gabriel Vasquez (I’m a huge Vazquez fan, his The Shape of The Ruins might be my favourite Latin American novel of all time). I’ll throw in a Japanese novel, too. Not Murakami’s new The City and Its Uncertain Walls (which was better than his previous novel Killing Commendatore, but not much), but rather Asako Yuzuki’s Butter; a Novel of Food and Murder.

    On the non-fiction side, conflict of interest rules forbid me from giving too much praise to Gerald Friesen’s The Honourable John Norquay: Indigenous Premier, Canadian Statesman, a timely book on Canada’s first Métis head of government, but you should read it anyway. My favourite from the past few months was The Soviet Sixties by Robert Hornsby, which is about that regime’s one decent decade and is quite excellent. I also enjoyed Wolfgang Münchau’sKaput: the End of the German Miracle, which suggests that the real historical anomaly was Germany’s accidental “good” decade of 2005-2015, not the train wreck of 2016-onwards (and the whole time all I could think about was everyone in Canada insisting that Canada could be just like Germany if only we did more apprenticeships…if you know anyone who still things like that, this book is a good antidote).

    As for my higher education books: you’ve probably noticed my increasing tendency to turn books I have read recently into podcasts (subscribe to our YouTube channel! Never miss an episode!). Our episode about Mary C. Wright’s Centers of Teaching and Learning: the New Landscape in Higher Education ended up being our most-watched of the fall. Joseph Wycoff’s Outsourcing Student Engagement: the History of Institutional Research and the Future of Higher Education is a kind of quirky book, but is an excellent history of the most specific of higher education occupations, and the weird way in which it pre-surrendered to academic bullying to keep itself from being perceived as an alternative source of authority on academia. And finally there was Global Mega-Science by David Baker and Justin Powell which is an intriguing theory about the way that the massification of education has been a massive cross-subsidy to science.

    In the same vein, there are another two books that I don’t feel I can tell you much about because I will be speaking to the authors on the podcast in the next few weeks. There was Maya Wind’s Towers of Ivory and Steel: How Israeli Universities Deny Palestinian Freedom, which lays out the case for sanctions on Israeli universities. And there was The Governance of European Higher Education by Michael Shattock, Aniko Horvath, and Jürgen Enders. It’s one of a series from Shattock (who has also authored tomes on governance in British universities and on international trends in university governance), and it’s an excellent precis of how European universities in their three broad forms (Anglophone, Germanic, and Napoleonic) have moved in the last 40 years or so. Stay tuned.

    Two other fairly ancient books I have covered in the blog already were The Blight on the Ivy by Dr & Mrs. (sic) Robert Gordon (a scream, but not always of the good kind) and The University, Society and Government, which was the report of the Commission on Relations Between Universities and Governments in 1970, which for the era presented an amazingly decentralist vision of Canada (I wonder, after decades of provincial indifference to postsecondary education regulation, what the authors would say now about the prospect for provincial leadership in science and research?)

    When in Paris, I picked up a couple of books on French higher education, including Autopsie de l’Université: un regard sur l’enseignement universitaire et son évolution by Stéphane Louryan, which portrays the university (not entirely coherently) as being poised between the modern evils of “managerialism” and “wokeism” and Reconstruire l’Université by Louis Vogel, which is a long kvetch about the state of French universities and (at a very high level of abstraction) why they should be more Anglo-Saxon. A trip to the Architecture Museum in Montreal netted me a very slender book of essays by and about Arthur Erickson (architect of record for both Simon Fraser and Lethbridge) called Arthur Erickson on Learning Systems, which is mostly a bunch of ideas around how university architecture can influence the organization of knowledge at universities. It’s mostly hopium and reads a lot like some of the stuff Buckminster Fuller was writing at the time, but at least it’s interesting hopium.      

    Four the better books I read were Follow the Money: Funding Research in a Large Academic Health Center by Henry Bourne and Eric Vermillion; The Caste of Merit: Engineering Education in India by Ajantha Subramanian: Burton Clark’s 1970 book, The Distinctive College: Antioch, Reed and Swarthmore; and David Staley’s Alternative Universities: Speculative Design for Innovation in Higher Education. The first is a detailed look at how the University of California, San Francisco actually works financially (and in general a useful handbook to understand the way America funds research, in the same vein as Paula Stephan’s How Economics Shapes Science. Subramanian’s book is good on how educational attainment “merit-washes” family wealth (and should be read by anyone who is under the deeply mistaken impression that meritocracy is a particular symptom of neo-liberal late capitalism). Clark’s book is an interesting examination of the “sagas” of Antioch, Reed and Swarthmore Colleges and it’s worth reading not just because they are interesting case studies in an of themselves, but for its excellent understanding of how university cultures develop over time. Staley’s book is bog-standard futurism (a bunch of ideas for future institutional forms that are not even vaguely examined in terms of the likelihood that they would ever find public or private funding), but it’s interesting and thought-provoking bog-standard futurism.

    I also consumed HBCU: The Power of Historically Black Colleges and Universities, by Marybeth Gasman and Levon Esters, which managed to turn an interesting subject into something that really was kind of boring, and also Linda Tuhiwa Smith’s Decolonizing Methodology: Research and Indigenous Peoples, which I think should be more widely read not because it is a page-turner or anything, but rather to debunk certain ideas about what “decolonization” in academia means (it’s half about putting research at the service of indigenous peoples, which should be utterly incontestable, but the other half has an awful lot of French post-structuralism in it).

    A couple of other single-college histories to mention are The University of Winnipeg: A History of the Founding Colleges by A.G. Bedford and Higher Education on the Brink: Re-imagining Strategic Enrolment Management in Colleges and Universities. I know, the latter doesn’t sound like it’s an institutional story, but it’s really just the author’s experience running Pittsburgh Technical College, written in universalist language. The former is pretty stultifying, with almost as much space given up to intra-mural sports as it is with actual intellectual, and its account of the Crowe Affair, (one of the huge academic freedom cases of the 1950s is, shall we say, highly tendentious, but, well, if you want to understand about how the politics of institutional federalism and the merger of the Methodist and Presbyterian churches affected higher education in Winnipeg  (which I recognize is a fairly specific demographic) then this is your book.

    Finally, I read a load of books for a series of blogs on the history of Quebec universities I’ll be publishing early next year. There was l’Université en réseau. Les 25 ans de l’Universiteé du Quebec by LuciaFeretti (obviously this one’s a little old by now but hey! Open access!); La naissance de l’UQAM: Témoignanges, acteurs et contextes (also open access, I really like Presses de l’université du Québec) by Denise Bertrand, Robert Comeauand Pierre-Yves Paradis. Histoire de l’Université de Sherbrooke 1954-2004 by Denis Goulet tells the story of one of Canada’s more under-rated (and misunderstood) institutions. I also started (but haven’t yet completed) Jean Hamelin’s Histoire de l’Université Laval: les péripéties d’une idée, which frankly feels pretty dated, and the brand-spanking new Concordia at 50: A Collective History, edited by Monika Kin Gangon and Brandon Webb, which is more of a community history than an institutional one, an approach which has its pluses and minuses.

    But the very best higher education book I read this year was L’université de Montréal: une histoire urbaine et internationale by Daniel Poitras and Micheline Cambron. I know institutional histories aren’t everyone’s cup of tea, but this book is genius. It’s not an institutional history so much as it is the political history of one of Canada’s most important community institutions as well as an intellectual history of the city of Montreal as well as a history of an evolving community of scholars (it might be the most “international” history of any Canadian institution ever written). It’s massive, beautifully illustrated, and will make you re-think what institutional histories can be.

    It’s absolutely the book of the year. Honorable mention to the novel How I Won a Nobel Prize by Julius Taranto.

    Happy holiday reading.

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  • Money and Vibes | HESA

    Money and Vibes | HESA

    As I mentioned yesterday, I recently spent some time at the International Association of Universities’ (IAU) annual meeting in Tokyo earlier this month. It’s tough to organize a meaningful international meeting about what you might call the “hard” issues in university management (resources, budget allocations, management styles) because these vary so much from one part of the world to another, and so the program tends to be taken up with more universalist themes like “values.” 

    The interesting thing about values was the divide in the room(s) about how insecure everyone felt about them. The white folks in the room spoke a lot about “challenging times,” which was mostly code for “holy crap, not Trump again, won’t we ever get out of this authoritarian populist nightmare?” But interestingly, the Africans in particular were not really interested in this discussion. They deal with strong-arming governments nearly all the time, and so there was a slight edge of “wake up, times are always challenging” to some of their interventions. 

    I’ll spare you the blow-by-blow, but something occurred to me as I listened to the various sessions: “vibes” are really the way that universities keep score of their successes, collectively at any rate. Sure, it’s nice that governments give them money—and they are bloody expensive to run—but what really matters is whether they are loved and respected. 

    For an empiricist like me, this is really annoying. I can measure investments and can compare them from one university or one country to another. But vibes? Very difficult to measure. Hard even to come up with a definition that makes sense across countries: in Canada we do measure how much the public “trusts” universities, but in other countries the vibes are much more directly about their ability to accept new students, or whether they are helping the country advance economically.

    But what the hell? Let’s give it a try!

    Below is a 2×2 (it’s not social science unless there is a 2×2!) that shows change in both total financial resources and vibes over the past five years in various countries. Data for the money axis is from my own records and analysis (you can see some of it back here from the talk I gave in Helsinki a couple of months ago), while data on the vibes axis is totally made up, based on my own observations. I’d be happy to discuss a better way to operationalize and measure this axis, but for the moment let’s just say this attempt to visualize how universities are faring is illustrative rather than in any way definitive and move on to the exercise itself

    (If you’d like to argue for a specific source of information for various countries, or just argue my choice of placement of a particular country on the vibes scale, get in touch!)

    What you can see plainly from Figure 1 is that higher education systems occupy one of three quadrants. There’s the one where both money and vibes are changing for the better (Turkey, India), one where money is going up but vibes are going down (the USA), and places where both money and vibes are headed in the wrong direction (the UK). 

    What we don’t see, really, are any countries in the top left quadrant where vibes are going up but money is going down. And I think what that tells you is that good vibes are not absolutely required in order for universities to receive new money, but they make it a whole heck of a lot easier. Which is of course why university Presidents are so concerned with public opinion.

    Anyways, this is all pretty theoretical. But I think it points to the possibility that perhaps measuring public sentiment about universities in consistent ways across countries might yield some interesting insights into the determinants of public funding. And in any event, if vibes are the way that universities measure their own success, shouldn’t we try to measure that in the same way we measure institutional finances?

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  • From Jazz to Symphony | HESA

    From Jazz to Symphony | HESA

    I spent all last week in Asia, at events put on by the International Association of Universities (IAU) in Tokyo and the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) in Jakarta. As usual, these meetings were interesting for me not so much because I can discover secrets of “how they do things better elsewhere” (they don’t, by and large, we’re all screwed for roughly the same reasons, which is that the public does not want to pay for the kind of institutions that academics want to work in), but simply because they help me get a wider take on the direction that global academia is heading.

    And here’s the thing: having sat through five days of meetings, I am more convinced than ever that universities are, globally, caught in a conflict of their basic institutional logics. And also, that for some reason, no one wants to talk about this openly even though it is self-evidently a pretty big deal. Let me explain.

    Over the course of the 19th and 20th centuries, at different paces in different parts of the world, universities went from being purely institutions of instruction to institutions that also engaged in advanced research. In the United States, where this process went the furthest, the fastest, it was shaped substantially by one man: Vannevar Bush, President of MIT and special scientific advisor to President Roosevelt during WWII. Bush was appropriately excited by the strides made by American science during the war, and wanted the party to continue after the war was over only with one difference: instead of giving scientists untold billions and placing them under military control as was the case for the Manhattan Project, Bush thought the correct path forward was for the government to give scientists untold billions and then leave them alone to make their own decisions about how the money should be spent. That’s not quite how things panned out, but there is no question that the system of curiosity-driven research that emerged gave an awful lot of power to individual researchers and left universities as mere intermediaries for funding. Or, as a colleague sometimes puts it, with respect to research missions, universities are simply holding companies for the research agendas of individual professors.

    And let’s face it, this worked well for many decades. The scientific output of universities working under this model has been amazing (see my interview with David Baker on global science from a few weeks ago). And it didn’t require universities to take on a particularly dirigiste role with respect to the faculty. In some ways, quite the opposite. It was during this period after all that a professor challenged then-Columbia President Eisenhower with the immortal words: “we faculty are not employees of the university…we are the university.” So as far as anyone could tell, the public could just dump money on scholars working in hubs and good things would happen.

    Somewhere over the past few decades, though, the mission of universities changed. Instead of being asked to provide research, they were asked to promote local economic growth, or provide solutions to “grand challenges” or sustainable development goals. And these were challenges that universities took on—gladly for the most part. “Look!” they said to themselves, “Society wants our knowledge/help/advice, we get to show how useful we are, and then people will love us and give us even more money.” And trust me, this is happening All. Over. The. World. Oh sure, the details vary a bit by place in terms of whether the push is more on institutions to push local economic growth or to help deliver social progress, and the extent to which this obligation is imposed on institutions and to what extent they embrace it on their own…but the trend is universal, unmistakable. 

    Except (how can I put this?) I am fairly sure that the lessons institutions learned with respect to growing research outputs do not translate well into these new missions. Research is something that can be done within academia; these new tasks require partnerships and relationships. Things which institutions are a lot more capable of delivering reliably than individual professors, whose commitment to particular endeavors may be more transitory, shaped as they often are by the availability of funding streams, changing research interests, the occasional switch of institutions, etc.

    It has taken universities awhile to work this out. The initial assumption that universities could take on all these missions could be met in much the same way that the research mission was: just assemble a lot of smart people in one place, and wonderfully imaginative solutions will naturally emerge. No central coordination necessary, and great universities could continue working as they had always done: like a great jazz band, where the anarchy is the point.

    But if these new missions actually imply a need for more durable structures to bring stability to partnerships and relationships, then a jazz band approach is probably not such a hot idea. If these missions require institutions to be able to act corporately, strategically, then jazz doesn’t cut it anymore. Neither does Big Band. You need something closer to a symphony orchestra. And boy, the implication of that change is significant. The locus of control and responsibility shifts upwards from professors to the larger institution. Professors, increasingly, would need to be treated as if they are second cello—that is, as parts of a larger musical enterprise—instead of as Thelonius Monk or John Coltrane. It would be a fundamental re-think of what it means to be an academic.

    There you have it: an old version of a university in which great things happen just because you put a bunch of smart people in close proximity to one another, and another which requires substantially more organization and (in a Weberian sense) bureaucracy. And it’s not that universities are being asked to choose—they aren’t. It’s worse than that: because these new missions are meant to be in addition to the older ones of teaching and research, universities are being asked to be both of these things at the same time. And that’s a recipe not only for unhappiness, but also for incoherence. Universities are simply becoming less effective as their missions multiply. 

    None of this has escaped the notice of governments. They were mostly quite enthusiastic about the idea of universities as community resources, places that in effect apply brain power on-demand to various types of social and economic problems and are getting frustrated that jazz-based universities can’t deliver. Despite promises to the contrary, old-style universities simply aren’t set up to deliver the promised results, leaving an expectations gap that is souring relations with that subset of governments that don’t view higher education as the enemy in the first place.

    And this, in turn, is contributing to a widespread recession in vibes around universities: simply put, they are not liked and admired the way they used to be. But more on that tomorrow.

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