Tag: time

  • 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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  • Rethinking icebreakers in professional learning

    Rethinking icebreakers in professional learning

    Key points:

    I was once asked during an icebreaker in a professional learning session to share a story about my last name. What I thought would be a light moment quickly became emotional. My grandfather borrowed another name to come to America, but his attempt was not successful, and yet our family remained with it. Being asked to share that story on the spot caught me off guard. It was personal, it was heavy, and it was rushed into the open by an activity intended to be lighthearted.

    That highlights the problem with many icebreakers. Facilitators often ask for vulnerability without context, pushing people into performances disconnected from the session’s purpose. For some educators, especially those from historically marginalized backgrounds, being asked to disclose personal details without trust can feel unsafe. I have both delivered and received professional learning where icebreakers were the first order of business, and they often felt irrelevant. I have had to supply “fun facts” I had not thought about in years or invent something just to move the activity along.

    And inevitably, somewhere later in the day, the facilitator says, “We are running out of time” or “We do not have time to discuss this in depth.” The irony is sharp: Meaningful discussion gets cut short while minutes were spent on activities that added little value.

    Why icebreakers persist

    Why do icebreakers persist despite their limitations? Part of it is tradition. They are familiar, and many facilitators replicate what they have experienced in their own professional learning. Another reason is belief in their power to foster collaboration or energize a room. Research suggests there is some basis for this. Chlup and Collins (2010) found that icebreakers and “re-energizers” can, when used thoughtfully, improve motivation, encourage interaction, and create a sense of safety for adult learners. These potential benefits help explain why facilitators continue to use them.

    But the promise is rarely matched by practice. Too often, icebreakers are poorly designed fillers, disconnected from learning goals, or stretched too long, leaving participants disengaged rather than energized.

    The costs of misuse

    Even outside education, icebreakers have a negative reputation. As Kirsch (2025) noted in The New York Times, many professionals “hate them,” questioning their relevance and treating them with suspicion. Leaders in other fields rarely tolerate activities that feel disconnected from their core work, and teachers should not be expected to, either.

    Research on professional development supports this skepticism. Guskey (2003) found that professional learning only matters when it is carefully structured and purposefully directed. Simply gathering people together does not guarantee effectiveness. The most valued feature of professional development is deepening educators’ content and pedagogical knowledge in ways that improve student learning–something icebreakers rarely achieve.

    School leaders are also raising the same concerns. Jared Lamb, head of BASIS Baton Rouge Mattera Charter School in Louisiana and known for his viral leadership videos on social media, argues that principals and teachers have better uses of their time. “We do not ask surgeons to play two truths and a lie before surgery,” he remarked, “so why subject our educators to the same?” His critique may sound extreme, but it reflects a broader frustration with how professional learning time is spent.

    I would not go that far. While I agree with Lamb that educators’ time must be honored, the solution is not to eliminate icebreakers entirely, but to plan them with intention. When designed thoughtfully, they can help establish norms, foster trust, and build connection. The key is ensuring they are tied to the goals of the session and respect the professionalism of participants.

    Toward more authentic connection

    The most effective way to build community in professional learning is through purposeful engagement. Facilitators can co-create norms, clarify shared goals, or invite participants to reflect on meaningful moments from their teaching or leadership journeys. Aguilar (2022), in Arise, reminds us that authentic connections and peer groups sustain teachers far more effectively than manufactured activities. Professional trust grows not from gimmicks but from structures that honor educators’ humanity and expertise.

    Practical alternatives to icebreakers include:

    • Norm setting with purpose: Co-create group norms or commitments that establish shared expectations and respect.
    • Instructional entry points: Use a short analysis of student work, a case study, or a data snapshot to ground the session in instructional practice immediately.
    • Structured reflection: Invite participants to share a meaningful moment from their teaching or leadership journey using protocols like the Four A’s. These provide choice and safety while deepening professional dialogue.
    • Collaborative problem-solving: Begin with a design challenge or pressing instructional issue that requires participants to work together immediately.

    These approaches avoid the pitfalls of forced vulnerability. They also account for equity by ensuring participation is based on professional engagement, not personal disclosures.

    Closing reflections

    Professional learning should honor educators’ time and expertise. Under the right conditions, icebreakers can enhance learning, but more often, they create discomfort, waste minutes, and fail to build trust.

    I still remember being asked to tell my last name story. What emerged was a family history rooted in migration, struggle, and survival, not a “fun fact.” That moment reminds me: when we ask educators to share, we must do so with care, with planning, and with purpose.

    If we model superficial activities for teachers, we risk signaling that superficial activities are acceptable for students. School leaders and facilitators must design professional learning that is purposeful, respectful, and relevant. When every activity ties to practice and trust, participants leave not only connected but also better equipped to serve their students. That is the kind of professional learning worth everyone’s time.

    References

    Aguilar, E. (2022). Arise: The art of transformative leadership in schools. Jossey-Bass.

    Chlup, D. T., & Collins, T. E. (2010). Breaking the ice: Using ice-breakers and re-energizers with adult learners. Adult Learning, 21(3–4), 34–39. https://doi.org/10.1177/104515951002100305

    Guskey, T. R. (2003). What makes professional development effective? Phi Delta Kappan, 48(10), 748–750.

    Kirsch, M. (2025, March 29). Breaking through. The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2025/03/29/briefing/breaking-through.html

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  • The bewitchment of skills: time for a rebalancing and a reordering

    The bewitchment of skills: time for a rebalancing and a reordering

    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 Professor Ronald Barnett, Emeritus Professor at the Institute of Education, University of London and President Emeritus of the Philosophy and Theory of Higher Education Society, and Secretary of the Global Forum for Re-Humanizing Education.

    We are faced today, especially in the UK, with a policy discourse in higher education that speaks entirely of ‘skills’ and an academic discourse, especially in the humanities and social theory, which speaks of ‘education’. In the skills discourse, there is typically no mention of education per se; and in the education discourse, there is no mention of skills per se.

    It will be said that this is an exaggeration, to which I invite such commentators to look at the evidence. In the policy discourse, rafts of blogs, public pronouncements by politicians, and reports from think tanks speak of skills without the idea of education being even mentioned as such, let alone raised up for consideration. On the other side, whole papers in the academic literature and even books can be found that speak of education, student development, criticality, self-formation and so on, while paying only perfunctory attention to the matter of skills, if that. 

    On the skills side of the debate, we may observe a HEPI blog entitled ‘Bridging the Gap: How Smart Technology Can Align University Programmes with Real-World Skills’ (Pete Moss, 22 July, 2025). The term ‘skills’ appears twenty times, with an additional mention of ‘reskilling’ and the phrases ‘skills gap’ and ‘skills taxonomy’. The term ‘education’ appears just three times, with two of those instances being in the form of phrases – ‘higher education’ and ‘university education’. 

    Only once does the term ‘education’ appear unadorned, and that in the last line: ‘After all, education is a journey.  It’s time the map caught up’. Nowhere are we treated to any indication as to the nature of the journey beyond it being the acquisition of skills. What education as such is, we are left to ponder.

    This debate in higher education is not really a debate at all, but rather a situation in which ships pass in the night and without even acknowledging each other. There is an occasional – if rather perfunctory – doffing of the hat towards skills on the educational side; but pretty well a near-complete silence about education on the skills side.

    Does this matter? After all, it might be suggested that what we have here is nothing more than a continuation of the polarisation of the liberal-vocational perspectives that have been with us in the United Kingdom for two hundred years or more. Nothing new here, it may be said.  I disagree.

    First, the intensity of this polarisation is now extreme. As remarked, characteristically, as I see it, positions are taken up of a kind that exhibits a total blankness towards the other side. As a result, there is no mutual engagement of positions. 

    Second, this blankness is particularly marked on the skills side, so to speak; and that is where the power lies. As a result, the framing of higher education in terms of skills becomes the dominant discourse. 

    Third, the skills side is not only utilitarian, but it is also instrumental. Every aspect of higher education comes to be valued insofar as it demonstrably has an outcome, and this logic is extended to students themselves. They become ends towards external purposes, now of economic, societal and national advancement. The development of students, understood as human beings, is rendered invisible. 

    Fourth, the world is facing great difficulties: egregious inequalities (of a like not seen for hundreds of years), crises of the natural environment, non-comprehension across peoples, violence (both material and discursive), and a degrading instrumentality in the way states treat their citizens are just indicative. What, against these horizons, might ‘higher education’ mean? Simply to speak of skills misses the point.

    Lastly, the world is in difficulty partly due to its institutions of higher education losing sight of their educational responsibilities. At best, those institutions have become institutions of higher skills.  In the process, universities have played a part in forging the instrumentality that is now dominant in the world. That the world is in grave difficulty can be laid, in part, at the door of universities.

    What, then, is to be done? The answer is obvious. We need a rebalancing in our debates, our language, our practices, our evaluation mechanisms, and the ways in which we identify what is of value in higher education. It is right for skills – and knowledge too, for that matter – to have a place, but that place has to be against the horizon of what is good for the education of students as human beings on and in this troubled Earth. 

    But this rebalancing calls for a reordering, where concerns with education have to precede concerns with skills. Wisdom, critical reflection, dialogue for understanding, care, consideration, carefulness, self-understanding, the world, Nature, dispute, antagonism, and mutuality have to become part of the vocabulary of student formation in constructing a proper policy debate. Unless and until this happens, the policy framework will be blind and surrender itself into the interests and technologies of the powerful.

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  • The time for change is now: reducing pension costs in post-92 universities

    The time for change is now: reducing pension costs in post-92 universities

    This blog was kindly authored by Jane Embley, Chief People Officer and Tom Lawson, Deputy Vice-Chancellor and Provost, both of Northumbria University.

    It is welcome that the government’s recent white paper acknowledges the very real funding pressures on the university sector and outlines some measures to address them. It is rather disappointing, however, that one of the causes of that financial pressure recognised by both employers and trade unions – is somewhat sidestepped – namely the crisis in the post-92 institutions caused by the Teachers’ Pension Scheme (TPS). While the government has pledged to better understand the problem, this will presumably lead to a period of consultation before any new proposals come forward. The cost of TPS compounds the financial difficulty of many institutions, and the severity of the current situation means the moment for change is now.

    The TPS cost crisis

    At the beginning of 2025, we wrote a piece for this website that outlined the problem in general terms, and particularly, for Northumbria University. To briefly summarise, post-92 institutions are all required to enrol their staff who are engaged in teaching in TPS. The cost of TPS for employers (and employees) is rising, and having historically been similar to other pension schemes in the sector is now much more expensive than schemes such as the Universities Superannuation Scheme (USS) or the local Government Pension Scheme (LGPS). TPS employer contributions are now 28.68% whereas for USS they are 14.5%, and for Northumbria’s LGPS fund are 18.5%.

    This means that for an academic salary of £57,500, in addition to NI costs, the employer pension cost is £8,300 per annum for USS, but for a TPS employee it is £16,500. Put simply, it is now considerably more expensive to employ a member of staff to do the same job in one part of the sector than another.

    The figures are striking. For every 1,000 staff, an institution would face more than £8M per annum of additional costs if their colleagues were members of TPS rather than USS. For Northumbria, given the number of colleagues we have in TPS, the additional cost of this scheme compared to USS is more than £11M per annum. To put it another way, the fees of more than 800 Northumbria students are fully consumed by paying the additional cost of TPS, versus USS.

    Why alternatives fall short

    There are ways that universities can find alternatives to TPS – institutions can take steps to employ their academic staff via subsidiary companies and reduce pension costs by using defined contribution schemes. This has multiple disadvantages for individuals as well as institutions – not least because colleagues employed by that mechanism are not counted within the HESA return, for example, and as such are not eligible for participation in the Research Excellence Framework or for Research Council funding. As such, colleagues employed via such mechanisms cannot fully contribute across teaching and research and may find it difficult to progress their careers or move between institutions in the future.

    At Northumbria, as a research-intensive institution, we did not consider the above to be a path we could take. As there are no clear proposals forthcoming from government we have had to seek recourse to a different solution.

    Northumbria’s strategic response

    As we predicted in our previous blog, individual institutions have no choice but to take control of the total cost of employment. Since then, at Northumbria, we have been thinking about how we might do just that. We have settled on an approach that follows a three-part solution, something which we believe offers flexibility and choice while managing the University’s pension costs down to an acceptable level in the medium to long term.  

    First, we are offering colleagues in TPS an attractive alternative – the main pension scheme in the sector, USS, following a recent agreement to change our membership terms. Over 200 colleagues at Northumbria are already members (having joined Northumbria with existing membership), and going forward, USS membership will be available to all our academic colleagues. Of course, we acknowledge that there are differences in the membership benefits of each scheme. USS is a hybrid scheme with defined benefits up to a threshold and then defined contributions beyond that. TPS is a career average defined benefit scheme. We will help our TPS members with this transition by providing personalised, independent financial information and guidance, as pensions are complex and any decision to move from TPS to USS will need careful consideration.

    However, we do need to be confident that we can address the very high cost of TPS employer pension contributions, and have recently begun discussions within our university about moving to a total reward approach to remuneration.

    Using the two pension schemes, we want to provide colleagues with the choice as to how much of their total reward they receive as income now and how much we pay in pension contributions.

    For each grade point in our pay structure, we are aiming to establish a reward envelope, based on the total cost of salary plus employer pension contributions, reflecting USS rather than TPS rates. As such, a colleague remaining in TPS would have no reduction in their salary, although they will, initially, have a total reward package that exceeds the envelope for their grade point.

    Our goal will be to increase the total reward envelope for each grade point each year by the value of the pay award determined via national collective pay bargaining. In this model, the cost of the total reward envelope will be the same, but colleagues will be able to choose how they construct their reward package based on their own personal preference or circumstances. Salaries for colleagues who are members of USS will increase in line with the rest of the sector. Those colleagues who choose to remain in TPS will not see an increase in their take-home pay, as this, plus the cost of their pension contributions, exceeds the envelope for their grade point. However, over time, when the value of the total reward envelope for colleagues in USS and TPS has equalised, the salaries for those choosing TPS will increase again.

    Looking ahead: a fairer, sustainable future

    We understand that many of our colleagues might find this change unpalatable; however, we feel the additional monthly cost of almost £1M cannot be justified. While to some this will be controversial, ultimately, our proposed approach will mean that over time (likely to be up to seven years) the reward envelope (or cost) for USS and TPS employees will have equalised and as such we will have eliminated the differential costs of employing these two groups of colleagues undertaking the same roles, and be on an equal footing with other universities.

    We anticipate that by adopting this approach USS will, in time, become the normalised pension scheme for our academic staff, as it already is across the pre-92 universities. Along with competitive pay, colleagues will be members of an attractive sector-wide scheme, with lower personal contribution levels resulting in higher take-home pay. Of course, we will keep the whole approach under review as the employer pension contribution rates change over time, and we will be actively engaging with our colleagues over the coming months to seek their views on our proposal and to shape our future plans.  

    Finally, we are also encouraging our colleagues to consider carefully whether to opt out of TPS and join USS now. In order to gain traction and make earlier progress, we are offering existing salaried staff in TPS the choice to move early, with the University recognising this decision via a one-off payment, which shares the longer-term financial benefit of this with the University. Colleagues may receive the value of the savings made over the first year – typically between £5,800 and a maximum of £10,000 – as a taxable payment or via a payment into their pension, subject to a number of conditions in relation to their future employment.

    As we have outlined, the time for change is now, and we cannot wait for the outcome of a consultation or for the government to decide how it will seek to address this obvious disparity in the sector. Ultimately, we believe that moving towards a total reward approach, as outlined above, is advantageous for both the University and for our colleagues. It provides choice – no one will be forced to leave TPS, and as such, colleagues can continue to choose to receive the benefits of that scheme by more of their total reward being paid in pension contributions than salary. Or colleagues can choose to access more of their total income now in their salary, while joining a hybrid pension scheme that is already in place across the sector and which delivers defined benefits, and defined contribution benefits for higher earners. We believe that this is a novel approach to what has been, for some time, an intractable problem in the sector.

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  • Is it time to change the rules on NSS publication?

    Is it time to change the rules on NSS publication?

    If we cast our minds back to 2005, the four UK higher education funding bodies ran the first ever compulsory survey of students’ views on the education they receive – the National Student Survey (NSS).

    Back then the very idea of a survey was controversial, we were worried about the impact on the sector reputation, the potential for response bias, and that students would be fearful of responding negatively in case their university downgraded their degree.

    Initial safeguards

    These fears led us to make three important decisions all of which are now well past their sell-by date. These were:

    • Setting a response rate threshold of 50 per cent
    • Restricting publication to subject areas with more than 22 respondents
    • Only providing aggregate data to universities.

    At the time all of these were very sensible decisions designed to build confidence in what was a controversial survey. Twenty years on, it’s time to look at these with fresh eyes to assure ourselves they remain appropriate – and to these eyes they need to change.

    Embarrassment of riches

    One of these rules has already changed: responses are now published where 10 or more students respond. Personally, I think this represents a very low bar, determined as it is by privacy more than statistical reasoning, but I can live with it especially as research has shown that “no data” can be viewed negatively.

    Of the other two, first let me turn to the response rate. Fifty per cent is a very high response rate for any survey, and the fact the NSS achieves a 70 per cent response rate is astonishing. While I don’t think we should be aiming to get fewer responses, drawing a hard line at 50 per cent creates a cliff edge in data that we don’t need.

    There is nothing magical about 50 per cent – it’s simply a number that sounds convincing because it means that at least half your students contributed. A 50 per cent response rate does not ensure that the results are not subject to bias for example, if propensity to respond was in some way correlated with a positive experience the results would still be flawed.

    I would note that the limited evidence that there is suggests that propensity to respond is not correlated with a positive experience, but it’s an under-researched area and one the Office for Students (OfS) should publish some work on.

    Panel beating

    This cliff edge is even more problematic when the data is used in regulation, as the OfS proposes to do a part of the new TEF. Under OfS proposals providers that don’t have NSS data either due to small cohorts or a “low” response rate would have NSS evidence replaced with focus groups or other types of student interaction. This makes sense when the reason is an absolute low number of responses but not when it’s due to not hitting an exceptionally high response rate as Oxford and Cambridge failed to do for many years.

    While focus groups can offer valuable insights, and usefully sit alongside large-scale survey work, it is utterly absurd to ignore evidence from a survey because an arbitrary and very high threshold is not met. Most universities will have several thousand final year students, so even if only 30 per cent of them respond you will have responses from hundreds if not thousands of individuals – which must provide a much stronger evidence base than some focus groups. Furthermore, that evidence base will be consistent with every other university creating one less headache for assessors in comparing diverse evidence.

    The 50 per cent response rate threshold also looks irrational when set against a 30 per cent threshold for the Graduate Outcomes survey. While any response rate threshold is arbitrary to apply, applying two different thresholds needs rather more justification than the fact that the surveys are able to achieve different response rates. Indeed, I might argue that the risk of response bias might be higher with GO for a variety of reasons.

    NSS to GO

    In the absence of evidence in support of any different threshold I would align the NSS and GO publication thresholds at 30 per cent and make the response rates more prominent. I would also share NSS and GO data with TEF panels irrespective of the response rate, and allow them to rely on their expert judgement supported by the excellent analytical team at the OfS. And the TEF panel may then choose to seek additional evidence if they consider it necessary.

    In terms of sharing data with providers, 2025 is really very different to 2005. Social media has arguably exploded and is now contracting, but in any case attitudes to sharing have changed and it is unlikely the concerns that existed in 2005 will be the same as the concerns of the current crop of students.

    For those who don’t follow the detail, NSS data is provided back to Universities via a bespoke portal that provides a number of pre-defined cuts of the data and comments, together with an ability to create your own cross-tabs. This data, while very rich, do not have the analytical power of individualised data and suffer from still being subject to suppression for small numbers.

    What this means is that if we want to understand the areas we want to improve we’re forced to deduce it from a partial picture rather than being laser focussed on exactly where the issues are, and this applies to both the Likert scale questions and the free text.

    It also means that providers cannot form a longitudinal view of the student experience by linking to other data and survey responses they hold at an individual level – something that could generate a much richer understanding of how to improve the student experience.

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  • 5 essential AI tech tools for back-to-school success

    5 essential AI tech tools for back-to-school success

    Key points:

    By now, the 2025-2026 school year is well underway. The glow of new beginnings has faded, and the process of learning has begun in earnest. No doubt there is plenty to do, but I recommend that educators take a moment and check in on their teaching toolkit.

    The tools of our trade are always evolving, and if our students are going to get the most out of their time in class, it’s important for us to familiarize ourselves with the newest resources for sparking curiosity, creativity, and critical thinking. This includes the latest AI programs that are making their way into the classroom.  

    Here are five AI tech tools that I believe are essential for back-to-school success: 

    1. ChatGPT: ChatGPT has quickly become the all-in-one tool for generating anything and everything. Many educators are (rightly) concerned about ChatGPT’s potential for student cheating, but this AI can also serve as a built-in assistant for creating welcome letters, student-friendly syllabi, and other common documents for the classroom. If it’s used responsibly, ChatGPT can assist teachers by cutting out the busy work involved when planning and implementing lessons.   
    2. ClassroomScreen: ClassroomScreen functions as a modern-day chalkboard. This useful tool lets teachers project a variety of information on screen while simultaneously performing classroom tasks. Teachers can take straw polls, share inspiring quotes, detail the morning schedule, and even monitor volume without opening a single tab. It’s a simple, multipurpose tool for classroom coordination.     
    3. SchoolAI: SchoolAI is a resource generator that provides safe, teacher-guided interactions between students and AI. With AI becoming increasingly common, it’s vital that students are taught how to use it safely, effectively, and responsibly. SchoolAI can help with this task by cultivating student curiosity and critical thinking without doing the work for them. Best of all, teachers remain at the helm the entire time, ensuring an additional layer of instruction and protection.       
    4. Snorkl: Snorkl is a feedback tool, providing students with instant feedback on their responses. This AI program allows students to record their thinking process on a digital whiteboard using a variety of customizable tools. With Snorkl, a teacher could send students a question with an attached image, then have them respond using audio, visual tools such as highlighting, and much more. It’s the perfect way to inject a little creativity into a lesson while making it memorable, meaningful, and fun!   
    5. Suno: Suno is unique in that it specializes in creative song generation. Looking for an engaging way to teach fractions? Upload your lesson to Suno and it can generate a catchy, educational song in the style of your favorite artist. Suno even allows users to customize lyrics so that the songs stay relevant to the lesson at hand. If you need a resource that can get students excited about learning, then Suno will be the perfect addition to your teaching toolkit!

    The world of education is always changing, and today’s technology may be outdated within a matter of years. Still, the mission of educators remains the same: to equip students with the skills, determination, and growth mindset they need to thrive in an uncertain future. By integrating effective tools into the classroom, we can guide them toward a brighter tomorrow–one where inquiry and critical thinking continue to flourish, both within the classroom and beyond.

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  • Think Like a Linguist: It’s time for a national conversation about the value of languages 

    Think Like a Linguist: It’s time for a national conversation about the value of languages 

    Author:
    Dr Charlotte Ryland

    Published:

    This guest blog was kindly authored by Dr Charlotte Ryland, Director of the Translation Exchange. 

    ‘Languages are not just a skillset, they’re a mindset.’ 

    I still remember where I was when a teacher friend made this comment, a few years ago, because it highlighted something I’d been worrying at for a long time. I felt that languages education for young learners undervalued the process of language learning itself, by underrating what it means to be a linguist. That value needed to be completely reframed: to move far beyond the notion that language learning gives you a set of useful communicative skills – the ‘utility argument’ – towards a more holistic and ambitious vision of the linguist’s mindset.  

    Fast forward to this summer, and a HEPI report by Megan Bowler highlighted a programme that I co-founded as doing just that: ‘[Think Like a Linguist offers] 12-13 year olds clear demonstrations of the value of a linguistic “mindset” and its real-world applications’.  

    That notion of the ‘real-world application’ is essential to how we think and talk about language learning and needs unpicking. I founded a languages outreach and advocacy centre (based at The Queen’s College, Oxford) because I was frustrated by existing languages outreach mechanisms run by universities. This frustration came in part from what I perceived as an over-emphasis on precisely those ‘real-world applications’: the outreach programmes I encountered tended to rely heavily on imagined futures – Keep learning your vocab and practising your grammar, then you’ll see! A life of travel, international business careers, slightly higher salaries awaits you! Yet this approach did not seem to be working for the year groups whose minds needed to be changed.  

    The cliff-edge for languages – in England and Wales – is now GCSE options, with over 50% of pupils opting out at the age of 13/14, i.e. at their first opportunity to do so. Languages presents university outreach with a special case, then: with a need to engage much younger learners than has traditionally been the case. Ideally, we start at upper primary and focus on lower secondary school learners, before pupils begin to think seriously about their GCSE options. My approach to working with this demographic has been to take a ‘show, not tell’ approach – to involve learners from age 8 in rich, creative, cultural activities that enable them to experience first-hand the pleasure and purpose of being a linguist.  

    That focus on showing is key to how we should treat the real-world applications, too. It is not enough to give pupils a learning experience based solely on communicative skills, while trying to tell them that this education will secure them a good job in our competitive, AI-soaked 21st-century economy. They don’t buy it, and the uptake statistics for formal language learning bear this out. Instead, we need to show those learners how relevant and in-demand the ‘linguistic mindset’ they develop will be, by integrating into the learning experience the broadest conception of what it means to be a linguist.  

    Higher Education institutions can do this. And they’ll do so much more effectively if they work together. They have access to a huge community of language graduates, who have between them generations of experience in the widest range of professions. With this community, the broadest conception of the linguistic mindset becomes tangible. In my experience, it falls into your lap the minute you ask one of these graduates about the impact of their languages education on their career path and life experience. 

    A standard response runs like this: they move quickly through the frontline benefits around communication in other languages – taking them as a given – and light instead on what Bowler refers to as ‘the irreplaceable advantages of the “linguistic mindset”’. For a lawyer, it includes the capacity to cope with frustration, to tolerate and work through uncertainty; for a consultant, it is being able to build trusted relationships and read between the lines. A civil servant might reference their ability to synthesise and analyse a large amount of information, seeking out potential biases and multiple perspectives. The list goes on and is underlined by the striking words of a 13-year-old participant in Think Like a Linguist: ‘I learnt that there is more to languages than speaking and listening. It’s also about thinking in your own way.’  

    If we have access to a form of education that stands to raise a generation of individuals able to think for themselves, and to do so on the global stage, then what are we waiting for? 

    The readiness of languages graduates to share these insights is one of the sector’s greatest assets. We need a national conversation about the value of languages for individuals and for society, fuelled by these stories and taking full account of the challenges currently being set us by AI. Duolingo have set us on an excellent path, with evidence in their user statistics and polling that the UK is a country of languages enthusiasts. As Duolingo’s UK Director Michael Lynas notes in his introduction to Bowler’s report, we need not be dogged by the negativity that often frames conversations about languages: instead, we must build on the tangible positives.  

    For this national conversation to make an impact, collaboration will be key. Shared learning from effective university outreach programmes to date can provide a basis for this conversation. And The Languages Gateway, a new cross-sector initiative dedicated to collating resources and supporting strategic collaboration, can host it. Further backing for this national conversation from higher education institutions and central government will support the Gateway in its work to raise the national profile of languages to where it belongs: delivering ‘irreplaceable’ value to 21st-century global Britain. 

      

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  • For World Space Week it’s time to look up

    For World Space Week it’s time to look up

    This week marks World Space Week, an international celebration of humankind’s last frontier launched by the United Nations in 1999. In more than 80 countries, people are celebrating through thousands of events.

    One of the goals of space week is to let people know how many of the products we depend on down on earth came out of space exploration programs: Life support systems for miners, memory foam mattresses, scratch-resistant lenses, nutritional supplements, cordless tools and freeze-dried food.

    Learning about outer space and space exploration excites young people and attracts them to science, technology, engineering and math fields.

    But for News Decoder, it is the international cooperation we see in space exploration programs that excites us. When we look to the moon, our galaxy and beyond, we see the possibility for peace and cooperation here on Earth.

    To celebrate World Space Week, check out some of the stories we’ve published about outer space and the people exploring it.

     

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  • 3 College Student Retention Strategies to Prioritize at This Time of Year

    3 College Student Retention Strategies to Prioritize at This Time of Year

    Retention is not what you do. It is the outcome of what you do.

    It’s that time of year when retention committees, student success professionals, and leadership teams across the country calculate the retention rate for the fall 2024 cohort and compare it with their previous years’ outcomes. Some campuses have undoubtedly stayed the same, others decreased, and some increased, but the overall conversation is usually about how “it” can be done better for the fall 2025 class. 

    Let’s talk about “it” for a minute. Many of you have heard the message that two of our founders, Lee Noel and Randi Levitz, and the student success professionals who have followed in their footsteps, have shared for several decades: Retention is not what you do. “It” is the outcome of what you do. “It” is the result of quality faculty, staff, programs and services. As you consider improvements to your efforts which will impact the fall 2025 entering class and beyond, keep in mind the following three student retention strategies and practices. 

    1. Assess college student retention outcomes completely

    The first strategy RNL recommends is a comprehensive outcomes assessment. All colleges and universities compute a retention rate at this time of year because it has to be submitted via the IPEDS system as part of the federal requirements. But many schools go above and beyond what is required and compute other retention rates to inform planning purposes. For example, at what rates did you retain special populations or students enrolled in programs designed to improve student success? In order to best understand what contributed to the overall retention rate, other outcomes have to be assessed as well. For instance, how many students persisted but didn’t progress (successfully completed their courses)? Before you finalize the college student retention strategies for your fall 2025 students, be sure you know how your 2024 students persisted and progressed so that strategies can be developed for the year ahead. 

    2. Know what worked and what didn’t

    The second strategy we recommend is to consider what worked well during the previous year and what didn’t. Many of us have been in situations where we continue to do the same thing and expect different results, which has been called insanity! (Fun fact, this quote is often attributed to Einstein, but according to Google, was not actually said by him!) A common example would be the academic advising model.  RNL has many years of data which show that academic advising is one of the most important college student retention strategies. But just doing what you have always done may not still be working with today’s college students. Advising is an area which needs constant attention for appropriate improvements. Here are a few questions for you to consider: Does your academic advising model, its standards of practice, and outcomes assessment reveal that your students are academically progressing by taking the courses needed for completion? Can you identify for each of your advisees an expected graduation date (which is one of the expected outcomes of advising)? Establishing rich relationships between advisors and advisees, providing a quality academic advising experience, can ultimately manage and improve the institution’s graduation rate. 

    3. Don’t limit your scope of activity

    Once you have assessed the 2024 class outcomes and the quality of your programs and services, RNL encourages you to think differently about how you will develop college student retention strategies that will impact the 2025 class. Each college has an attrition curve, or a distribution of students with their likelihood of being retained. The attrition curve, like any normal distribution, will show which students are least and most likely to retain and will reveal the majority of students under the curve. See the example below:

    The Retention Attrition Curve showing that campuses should focus retention efforts on students who can be influenced to re-enroll. The Retention Attrition Curve showing that campuses should focus retention efforts on students who can be influenced to re-enroll.

    As you consider your current activities, you may find that many of your programs are designed for the students at the tail end of the curve (section A above) or to further support the students who are already likely to persist (section B). Institutions set goals to increase retention rates but then limit the scope of students they are impacting. To have the best return on retention strategies, consider how you can target support to the largest group of students in the middle (section C) who are open to influence on whether they stay or leave, based on what you do or don’t do for them, especially during their first term and their first year at your school. 

    Onward for the year ahead

    RNL congratulates those of you who have achieved your retention goals for the 2024 cohort. You certainly must have done some things right and must have had student retention strategies that were effective. For those of you who are looking for new directions in planning, consider the three practices outlined above. 

    And if you aren’t currently one of the hundreds of institutions already working with RNL, you may want to implement one or more of the RNL student success tools to support your efforts: the RNL motivational survey instruments to identify those students who are most dropout prone and most receptive to assistance, the RNL student retention data analytics to identify the unique factors that contribute to persistence at your institution, and the RNL satisfaction-priorities surveys that inform decision making and resource allocation across your campus population. RNL can provide support in all of these areas along with on-going consulting services to further direct and guide retention practices that can make a difference in your enrollment numbers and the success of both your students and your institution.  Contact me to learn more in any of these areas. 

    Note: Thanks to my former colleague Tim Culver for the original development of this content.

    Ask for a complimentary consultation with our student success experts

    What is your best approach to increasing student retention and completion? Our experts can help you identify roadblocks to student persistence and maximize student progression. Reach out to set up a time to talk.

    Request now

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  • Weekend Reading: Is it time to stop using the term ‘non-traditional student’? 

    Weekend Reading: Is it time to stop using the term ‘non-traditional student’? 

    Author:
    HEPI Guest Post

    Published:

    This HEPI blog was kindly authored by Dr Steve Briggs, Director of Learning, Teaching and Libraries, University of Bedfordshire 

    In the context of UK higher education, the terms ‘traditional’ and ‘non-traditional’ are widely used when describing students – as apparent in recent blog posts published by HEPI. In this blog, I consider why the continued use of such terminology may become increasingly problematic and what might be a viable alternative.   

    Who are ‘traditional’ students?  

    The Cambridge dictionary defines ‘traditional’ as: 

    Following or belonging to the customs of ways of behaving that have continued in a group of people of society for a long time without changing. 

    As such, one can infer that the criterion for traditional students is that they will share established characteristics that have been fixed for a significant period.  
     

    The stereotypical traditional student 

    In the 1970s and 1980s, university students were generally young adults who left home and moved to a new city or town to study. They would routinely live with other students on or near to campus. Many would be able to undertake studies without needing to work and would have significant time available to spend on campus and engage in clubs, societies, sports teams and other social activities. In 2025, many commentators will cite this profile as being synonymous with a traditional student.  

    The rise of the non-traditional student   

    In the context of the UK, the term ‘non-traditional student’ has been widely used to differentiate learners who do not adhere to the aforementioned traditional student convention. Examples of characteristics seen to make a student non-traditional include: 

    • Commuting to university, rather than living on campus 
    • Being over the age of 21  
    • Having parental and/or caring responsibilities 
    • Hailing from a lower socio-economic background 
    • Being the first-in-family to study at university 
    • Having had experience of the care system 

    Such individuals are often time-poor but commitment-rich and in turn have very limited availability to spend on campus outside of scheduled sessions. The use of the non-traditional label has been used increasingly since the advent of widening participation in the 1990s. 

    Perceptions of traditional are not fixed  

    The concept of a traditional student is time-bound. For example, pre-1900, there was a small number of ancient universities in the UK and relatively very low numbers of students. Increased numbers of universities opening during the 1900s meant that more individuals were able to study at university, many of whom would be labelled as non-traditional relative to those pre-1900. However, the same group has since then been re-defined as traditional relative to those who studied in the 1990s.  

    Over the last twenty-five years non-traditional characteristics have become increasingly common amongst the student population. For example, in 2025, HESA reported that over half of students were from IMD quintiles 1 and 2, and the vast majority of students are now over the age of 20. Following previous trends, there will come a point, potentially in the not-too-distant future, whereby the current generation of non-traditional students will become viewed as traditional. The cyclical process will then likely start again with a new conceptualisation of what is non-traditional.  

    More nuanced classification options 

    Given the time-bound nature of both traditional and non-traditional characteristics I suggest that higher education commentators should consider the use of more exact terminology when discussing student cohorts. I suggest two options: 

    • By decade: Student groups could be framed in terms of decades, for example the demographic and characteristics of students of the 1990s, 2000s, 2010s and 2020s, etc. Such an approach could work well if there was stability over a decade however, the impact of social or global events (such as a recession, government policy or pandemic) may mean within a decade those studying within higher education could change markedly. For example, the significant impact of governmental immigration policy changes on the recruitment of international students studying in the UK during the mid-2020s.  
    • Create generational names: Since 1950, there have been five main birth generations: Baby Boomers, Generation X, Millennials, Generation Z and Generation Alpha. Each generation has shared characteristics synonymous with being born during that period. Analogously, specific generations could be defined in terms of university students. Each generation would have a distinctive name and characteristics common amongst most members studying at university during that specific window of time. The use of student generational names would offer flexibility to account for periods of stability that lasted longer than ten years and could also accommodate sudden changes to the profile of student cohorts.  

    I personally favour the use of generational names given the greater flexibility. I see this as necessary given the turbulence and change experienced within the higher education sector over the last decade. For instance, I propose that the pandemic was a catalyst for the emergence of a new generation of students, a defining characteristic of which being greater experience in remote communicating and learning online.  

    Putting into practice 

    As a starter for ten, I suggest seven generations of English students over the last 150 years. A caricature for each is provided – these are intended to be illustrative of generational difference rather than exhaustive: 

    • Ancient Generation (pre-1900): A student would study at one of the ancient universities in the UK. Students were mainly from the upper social class, and a fraction of the population attended university. Those attending university would be financially supported by personal networks.  
    • Redbrick Generation (circa 1900-1945): Most students studied at an ancient or redbrick university. Students continued to be mainly from the upper social class, and in turn a small percentage of the population attended university. 
    • Post-World War Two Generation (circa 1946-1989): As the number of universities progressively expanded, students had greater geographic access to higher education. Students could access maintenance grants to cover the cost of living whilst studying. This allowed students to readily engage in activities alongside their studies.  
    • Widening Participation Generation (circa 1990 – 1997): The number of universities significantly increased following the integration of polytechnics. Concentrated efforts were made to expand access to higher education and the percentage of students from previously underrepresented groups increased. In addition to maintenance grants, students were able to access low-cost student loans.  
    • Tuition Fee Generation (circa 1998 – 2014): The widening participation imperative remained but students now paid a tuition fee to study. Choice of where to study remained limited by student number caps. Maintenance grants were abolished and replaced with student loans. As fees progressively increased more students found they needed to undertake work whilst studying.  
    • Free Market Generation (circa 2015 – 2019): Widening participation remained a priority. The student number cap is removed, and many universities actively expand the availability of places. Students have unprecedented choice in terms of where to study at university. Tuition fees and living costs remain a challenge for many students and numbers working whilst studying remains very high.  
    • Pandemic Generation (circa 2020 – current): The pandemic results in a sudden and seismic shift to online education across schools, colleges and universities. This results in students have new experiences and expectations related to online and blended learning. Cost of living increases following the pandemic resulted in more student facing financial hardships in turn resulting in many spending less time on campus. Demand for mental health and well-being support increases.  

    Analogous to birth generations, I would see that other interpretations of higher education student generation names could emerge through research outputs, thought pieces or social events as opposed to being determined by a single group or professional body. Influential think tanks like HEPI could play a key role in providing platforms for such discussion. 

    I foresee there potentially being variations in proposed student generational definitions (as is the case with birth generations) but if all are clearly defined, these would all be invaluable for higher education commentators when discussing longitudinal changes in cohorts over time.

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