Tag: Universities
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Should universities cash in on cryptocurrency donations?
In 2023, Korean video game company WeMade pledged to donate the equivalent of one billion Korean won ($695,988) in Wemix tokens—a cryptocurrency linked to the blockchain platform of the same name—to Seoul National University.
What seemed like a moment for celebration quickly descended into controversy, with the university eventually ceasing to accept cryptocurrency donations altogether.
So, what happened? Shortly after the donation was made, WeMade reportedly liquidated a large share of its coins, causing a significant currency devaluation and meaning SNU’s donation was no longer worth so much—a problem given that the funds had been earmarked for a specific project.
That wasn’t the only barrier. Under South Korean financial regulations, the university was also unable to open a corporate account for virtual asset exchange. With calls to change the law unanswered, the university was left holding a volatile currency it was unable to convert to cash.
Now Korean regulators are reportedly considering allowing the country’s universities to convert cryptocurrency for the first time—potentially opening a significant new fundraising stream for the country’s financially ailing sector.
Elsewhere, universities are already cashing in on the crypto craze, most notably in the U.S. In 2021, the University of Pennsylvania received $5 million in Bitcoin from an unnamed donor. A year later, Vitalik Buterin, co-founder of Ethereum, a leading blockchain, donated the equivalent of $9.4 million in USDC coin to the University of Maryland to fund public health research in the wake of the pandemic.
The Giving Block, a U.S.-based platform that facilitates cryptocurrency donations to nonprofit organizations, said that the higher education sector has been one of its “biggest growth areas” over the past two years, with Washington State University and Northeastern University among the company’s clients.
“There are several things driving this, like the booming crypto market and broader mainstream adoption, but the biggest driver for schools is simply following the money,” said Pat Duffy, its co-founder.
With analysts suggesting popular currencies like Bitcoin will continue to grow in value this year, spurred on by newly inaugurated Donald Trump’s crypto-friendly rhetoric, universities could be set to benefit—if they are prepared to manage the risks that come with the volatile landscape.
“For donors in the U.S., the biggest driver is the tax incentive,” said Duffy. “You can skip capital gains taxes on appreciated assets and still get a deduction for the full market value.
“The donor pays no taxes on their appreciated crypto, and neither does the school. Donors across the country are eliminating tens of millions of dollars in tax liability by choosing to give with crypto, and giving larger gifts … as a result.”
For universities, accepting cryptocurrency may also allow them to target their fundraising at a younger, tech-savvy market. “They can attract more people if they accept crypto payments,” said Nir Kshetri, professor of management at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro.
It’s not just donations where universities are capitalizing. Some, like Bentley University, have begun accepting tuition fees in cryptocurrency, with significant implications for international students.
In Nigeria, for example, converting the naira to the U.S. dollar to make fee payments can be a complicated process. For some, paying in decentralized cryptocurrency is simpler and faster, according to Kshetri.
However, a key risk for universities is the unpredictability of cryptocurrency markets, with fears compounded by the volatility of Bitcoin in recent years. While the market is recovering, crashes such as the one experienced in 2022 have left a lasting impact and made some universities wary.
“Right now it’s at a peak, but who’s to say we won’t see a return to what we saw two years ago when the bottom fell out?” cautioned Bill Stanczykiewicz, director of the Fund Raising School at Indiana University Indianapolis’s Lilly Family School of Philanthropy.
According to Stanczykiewicz, best practice is to avoid holding on to cryptocurrency, even if it is predicted to increase in value. “What we say to fundraisers is if you get crypto, turn it into your national currency as quickly as you can,” he said, or use a platform like the Giving Block, which does this for you.
However, this approach isn’t universal. In Paraguay, Universidad Americana is less risk-averse than some, evaluating the market before converting any cryptocurrency payments.
Universities considering going down this avenue also need to consider the ethical aspects, said Stanczykiewicz, and whether such donations adhere to their institution’s values.
Specifically, the environmental impact of currencies like Bitcoin is a concern for some. However, Kshetri argued, the coin has already been mined prior to the donation—that is, the damage has already been done. “Just to transfer that Bitcoin from you to me consumes very little … electricity,” he said.
Whatever your ethical view, those interviewed for this article agreed on this: Cryptocurrency is here to stay and, for universities, it’s simply a question of how quickly they embrace it.
“Historically, it was regulatory uncertainty that made universities nervous about crypto acceptance and investing,” said Duffy. Today, he continued, in the U.S., “regulatory clarity and the political support we see on both sides of the aisle have cleared up those concerns.”
With countries like South Korea set to provide a regulatory green light, too, it may not be long before institutions around the globe follow in the footsteps of their U.S. counterparts.
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UK universities and the war in Gaza
2024 was a difficult year for UK higher education, particularly in the international arena.
Universities from all parts of the sector struggled to meet their overseas student recruitment targets in an increasingly competitive global market. Some international research collaborations – once encouraged by governments and funding councils – came under tighter scrutiny.
And many campuses were rocked by protests over the conflict in the Middle East. I have touched on the last of these issues in a previous Wonkhe article – but it is worth revisiting in the light of ongoing tensions.
Campus protests
There are wars underway in diverse parts of the world – last year saw serious loss of life in Ukraine, Sudan, Myanmar and Yemen, to name only a few. However, nowhere attracts the attention of staff and students like the invasion of the Gaza Strip which followed the 7 October attack on Israel and the abduction of hundreds of civilian hostages.
Some argue that this is unfair or, at least, disproportionate – why has Israel faced so much criticism when other regimes have committed atrocities against civilian populations with no demonstrations on British campuses? While that is undeniable, it is also true that the Palestinian people in Gaza are enduring a horrendous situation; despite the recent ceasefire, tens of thousands of innocent lives have been lost and hundreds of thousands are still denied access to basic essentials. The anguish and concern expressed by staff and students in response to their plight are surely justified.
During 2024, that concern manifested itself in encampments across 30 or so universities. There were numerous marches, often organised in combination with civic gatherings. The public events tended to focus on demands that the government condemn the Israeli military action and use its influence to stop the war.
On campus, the centre of attention was slightly different, with pressure on university administrations not only to provide financial support for Palestinian scholars but also to disinvest in companies which supplied arms to Israel. This drew on a longer running campaign which argued that any investment in the arms trade is fundamentally immoral. The incoming Labour government’s withdrawal of some export licences has not changed the situation – the issue has become a rallying point for those who feel powerless to alleviate the suffering of innocent people in the war zone.
Formulating a response
The protests have put university managers under considerable pressure. Initially, administrators were reluctant to say anything, being anxious to avoid alienating different groups or to make individuals who had an affiliation with Israel feel under attack. UK senior managers were also aware of the deep divisions on some American campuses – several heads of institutions resigned after making infelicitous statements while navigating between radical student opinion and aggrieved benefactors.
Even so, quite quickly senior managers in British universities began to share ideas and formulate a common position. This generally involved voicing support for academic freedom and freedom of expression while calling on protestors to respect the position of others. There were nuances – some institutions banned flags or outlawed certain contentious slogans; several announced that they would not talk to activists until camps were disbanded. In the face of prolonged disruption, a few resorted to legal interventions to remove tented villages.
For the most part, though, UK universities engaged with all shades of opinion, facilitated peaceful protest and sought to foster rather than stifle debate. The monthly colloquies at meetings organised by Universities UK were supplemented by occasional reflective discussions at events elsewhere.
Like others, the University of Glasgow’s senior management and university court (the governing body) considered the ethical position as well as the politics of the situation. We communicated regularly with the wider community, reached out to activists and met with faith groups, student representatives, civic leaders and national bodies.
A key concern was to ensure that students (especially, in this instance, Jewish and Muslim students and staff) always felt welcome and safe on campus. We were one of the first institutions to call for the release of the hostages and a humanitarian ceasefire. The university issued regular reminders about good conduct but did not rush to take disciplinary action against individuals. When students occupied a building, senior managers met with the leaders; we permitted a peaceful demonstration outside the door of the governing body meeting. In response to Students’ Representative Council (SRC) and trade union demands, we undertook a widespread consultation on disinvestment in the arms trade.
Despite vociferous calls from students and trade unions, Glasgow’s Court voted two-to-one against disinvestment; following a thoughtful discussion, a majority agreed with senior managers that it was morally right for the UK to have a defence sector and that this should be distinguished both from the conflict in the Middle East and from the question of which countries the UK sold arms to. In essence, the Court’s position was unchanged from 2020, when officers were instructed to write to government ministers calling for tighter restrictions on sales to countries which breached international law, or which had poor human rights records.
Towards reconstruction
The decision on disinvestment does not constitute the sum of our response to the situation in the Middle East. Alongside this, we have sought to build on Glasgow’s status as a University of Sanctuary through practical action in support of those suffering in Gaza and other conflict zones.
A key aspect of this was the conference we organised in December, in conjunction with Professor Sultan Barakat of Hamad Bin Khalifa University, on the post-war reconstruction of higher education in Gaza. With most university campuses in the area reduced to rubble, reconstruction might seem like a momentous task, but the event attracted nearly 200 registrations. It drew strong support from UK universities and significant engagement from colleagues based in the Middle East.
The conference delegates heard directly from victims of the conflict. They learned of its disastrous impact and considered academic analyses of aid interventions (often meagre and inadequate) as well as efforts to support students and academics to continue their studies. The attendees engaged in the difficult task of identifying how UK higher education can best support universities in the region to rebuild.
Key messages included the undying hunger of Palestinians in Gaza for higher education, their determination to create a better future and the belief that, with international support, all obstacles to reconstruction can be overcome. Scotland’s former First Minister Humza Yousaf (who gave a moving address in the main Glasgow synagogue following the 7 October attack on Israel) told the conference: “this is not about taking sides – it’s about being pro-humanity.”
The conversation will not cease – we intend to reconvene in Qatar and online in the spring, and to strengthen links with colleagues in key agencies, such as the Council for At-Risk Academics (CARA), who attended the conference. We will continue to draw support from a coalition of interests, including the UCU, whose local representatives actively supported the event.
In the coming semester, we anticipate further protest and vigorous debate at Glasgow over the correct response to the war in Gaza and its aftermath. The situation there remains desperate and the prospects for a lasting peace – for Palestinians, Israelis and Lebanese alike – are still very uncertain. But the events of the past few days should give us hope, and we in the higher education sector should do everything we can to advance the cause of peace and reconstruction. By identifying solutions to age-old problems, sharing our resources and giving practical assistance to colleagues in need, we can help make hope a reality.
The author is writing in a personal capacity.
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Rethinking the Financial Challenge of English Universities
By Adam Habib, Vice-Chancellor at SOAS University of London, and Lord Dr. Michael Hastings of Scarisbrick CBE, Chair of the Board of Trustees at SOAS.
The business model of English higher education is broken. We are not sure that this simple fact is sufficiently understood by all stakeholders in higher education. Do not mistake us: we all recognise the serious financial crises that most English universities are confronting. But this is not the same as understanding its causal features and what to do about it. The latest financial report from the Office for Students (OfS), released in mid-November, suggests 72% of English universities will be in deficit by the end of the academic year if they continue as is. It does not suggest much about how to address it. In fact, it does not even ask why the other 28% of universities are not in deficit. Is this because of their historical endowments or their specific student profile, or are they doing something the others are not?
But the OfS is not the only stakeholder reluctant to ask the hard questions: how we got here and what to do about it. This malady afflicts almost all other stakeholders. Let’s begin with the basics. Almost three decades ago, the British government committed to massifying education and ensuring that at least 50% of their school-leaving population had the privilege of going to university. The challenge was how to pay for it. They introduced fees, first as a small proportion of the actual cost in 2006, and then to cover the entire cost in 2012 (at least for Business degrees, Humanities and the Social Sciences). The popular backlash this generated, especially since almost all universities rushed to implement the maximum permitted fee, led the politicians to subsequently avoid increasing fees in line with inflation. The net effect was that within a few years, the actual cost of university education outstripped the fees.
The solution followed by most universities was to increase international fees and their intakes of foreign students. To attract more of these students, universities borrowed heavily, built shiny new facilities, expanded their pastoral services and grew their student numbers. This was assisted in part by the removal of student number caps on home students. Costs increased, and to cover these, more income was required, which led to even higher international fees and more foreign students.
All higher education stakeholders were complicit in this. The Government initially supported this solution because it obviated the need for more government subsidies and enabled foreign currency earnings. Vice-chancellors and higher education executives deluded themselves in thinking that the international postgraduate masters students came to the UK universities because of their institutions’ research reputations, even though survey after survey demonstrated that these students were increasingly attracted by the prospect of employment prospects and the post-study visa. Unions, both academic and professional service ones, acquiesced given that these international fees enabled higher salaries and subsidised greater research time for academics. There was even broader public support as it contained the fees for domestic students.
Until of course, a new breed of ethnically oriented right-wing politicians mobilised on the chauvinistic instinct of there being too many foreigners in Britain. This first manifested in Brexit, then China and subsequently all foreigner-bashing, and finally visa restrictions on dependents. The net effect was a dramatic fall in applications and enrolment of international students, with the ensuing financial crisis of universities in the UK. A positive spin-off of this state of affairs is that almost all stakeholders now recognise the flimsy fiscal foundation of universities. The negative feature is that it still has not generated an honest reflection and behaviour on the part of all stakeholders or a sufficiently deep deliberation on the business model of higher education in the UK and what to do about it.
Take, for instance, the stance of government. The Secretary of State for Education announced in the House of Commons on 4 November 2024 the first university fee increase for undergraduate students in eight years. Yet the Chancellor had increased the Employer National insurance a few days before from 13.8 to 15 percent. The net effect is a further loss of £59 million for universities in the UK from the 2025/26 academic year.
Neither is the debate in universities more imaginative on what to do about the financial crisis and the business model of higher education. University vice-chancellors and Universities UK have recognised the need to revert to greater public funding for higher education, although there is a broad recognition that this is an unlikely solution in the near future given the fiscal crisis of the state. They have suggested through individual vice-chancellor advocacies that universities would require the financial equivalence of £12,000 fees, but again, almost all recognise the political challenge of achieving this during a cost-of-living crisis. The reluctant fallback back? A retreat to international student fees by retracting or reforming the visa restrictions, thereby allowing for further increases in income from foreign students.
But this is just not a feasible solution for the long term. Higher education in the UK has priced itself out for ordinary international students looking solely for a higher education qualification. The only rationales for postgraduate master’s students accessing UK universities, given their high-cost structure, are either post-study employment or the learning of a specific qualification not available in alternative higher education settings. The former is increasingly becoming politically unfeasible, and the latter is not a sufficiently large market to financially sustain British universities.
This is in addition to the moral and commercial challenges of this business model. As we have suggested elsewhere, there should be serious objections to this model, which is effectively directed towards sucking out resources from countries far more impoverished than the UK, to essentially cross-subsidise domestic citizens. Moreover, it accelerates the brain drain, weakening institutional capacities and human capabilities in the majoritarian world at precisely the moment when such societies require an enhancement of capabilities to address the local manifestations of transnational challenges like climate change, pandemics, food insecurity and war.
Where to go from here, then? First, there is an urgent need for an honest conversation led by government without any smoke and mirrors on the fiscal latitude available to it and the consequences thereof for the financing of higher education. Second, there is a need for a thorough reflection on what has fiscally worked, and what has not in the recent past on the management and executive stewardship of universities in the UK. Third, there is a need for an honest discussion in universities on the fiscal viability of excessively small classes and unduly low staff-student ratios, 40% research time for all teaching and research contracts, and the importance of institutional differentiation in mandates and how these should speak to the former two elements. Finally, we need to think through the limits of cross-subsidising from international student fees and what new opportunities are opening up globally for fulfilling our institutional mandates.
One opportunity, that has not been sufficiently explored by British universities, is how to assist in the education and training of hundreds of millions of young people in the majoritarian world. This is an urgent necessity not only for the economic development of these societies but also for enabling societies across the world to manage the transnational challenges of our time, without which we may not survive as a human species. Obviously, this will not be possible on the existing cost structures or business models of higher education. But partnering with universities in the Global South, involving the joint development of curricula, co-teaching and co-assessment, could bring down cost structures of higher education. This could then feed into more reasonable fees being charged, thereby opening up new higher education markets for British universities. Cost structures could also be reconsidered in relation to scale. The more students there are within a program, limited to pedagogical requirements, the more cost per student is reduced, and the more competitive fees can become. New technologies involving online teaching and global classrooms, many of which were pioneered for our own students during the Covid-19 Pandemic, can make this equitable transnational teaching even more feasible.
Some forms of transnational teaching are already underway in UK universities. But these often take the form of online learning, overseas campuses and franchise models of higher education, all of which are only directed at obviating the financial challenges of British universities. While we would be reluctant to take rigid positions against these models – they may indeed be relevant in certain contextual circumstances – we do hold that the equitable partnership model identified above holds the pedagogical benefit of enabling learning that is both globally grounded and locally relevant. It also does not pit the financial security of British universities against that of universities of the majoritarian world. Essentially, these equitable teaching partnerships can pioneer one element of a new business model that enhances collaboration and mutual benefit for universities in the UK and the majoritarian world.
Such a model of higher education could also become part of the soft power arsenal of the UK. Increasingly, government has broached the idea of a global Britain. This would be a Britain recognised as a collaborative partner of other nations, enabling them to achieve their national objectives, while enabling itself to be economically competitive and socially responsive to both its own citizens and its international obligations. An equitable orientation to its higher education system would assist this strategic national agenda.
We are by no means suggesting that equitable transnational learning should replace all other forms of teaching in UK higher education. This would be unrealistic and, frankly, would violate the responsibility of British universities to be nationally responsive. Instead, we recommend that in the pursuit of a financially sustainable higher education system, a diverse set of income strategies – subsidy, domestic fees, international fees, ODL, executive education and equitable transnational educational partnerships – is required. This final strategy not only opens up a new higher education student market at a different price point but also enables us to square our imperative to be financially sustainable with our commitment to be socially and globally responsive.
The strategic challenge of managing higher education institutions in the contemporary era is the management of tensions between competing imperatives. It also requires thinking outside the box, innovating and finding new markets, and servicing these at new price points, while continuing to meet the social obligations implicit in the mandate of universities. This is what we believe is sometimes missing from the deliberations on making British universities financially sustainable. The debate can only be enriched and the recommendations made more robust if we are prepared to think beyond what we are comfortable with.
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Make Universities Great Again – HEPI
***Join HEPI and Jisc at 2pm next Monday, 27 January for a webinar on ‘Competition or collaboration’ in the higher education sector: you can register here.***
On the day that Donald Trump is inaugurated as US President for the second time, with JD Vance as his Vice-President, HEPI Director of Partnerships Lucy Haire reviews Vance’s Hillbilly Elegy – and asks what it can teach us about his attitudes to universities.
It is not a new publication, but it has taken on new significance. JD Vance’s Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis was published in 2016, well before anyone had an inkling that the author would be the US Vice-President nine years later. I read this autobiography of Vance’s youth to try to better understand one of the most powerful men in the world.
Five things that saved JD Vance
The basic story of the first thirty or so years of Vance’s life reflects a challenging upbringing in Middletown, Ohio, a community in economic decline. Born to a mother struggling with addiction, Vance grew up amid instability, surrounded by school dropouts, joblessness and crime.
Vance attributes his escape from a stricken trajectory to five main themes.
First, his steadfast grandparents, especially ‘Mamaw’ who eventually raised him.
Second, the US Marines, which instilled discipline.
Third, his girlfriend and future wife, Usha, who refined his social skills.
Fourth, his own grit and drive.
Fifth, universities, of which JD Vance attended two.
He says of Ohio State University:
Ohio State’s main campus in Columbus is about a hundred miles from Middletown… Columbus felt like an urban paradise. It was (and remains) one of the fastest-growing cities in the country, powered in large part by the bustling university that was now my home. OSU grads were starting businesses, historic buildings were being converted into new restaurants and bars, and even the worst neighbourhoods seemed to be undergoing revitalization.
This passage could be taken straight from the pages of a US equivalent of UPP Foundation’s excellent Kerslake Collection on the economic and social benefits that universities have on their local communities. It chimes entirely with the sentiment in the UK’s Secretary of State for Education, Bridgit Phillipson’s recent letter to UK universities.
Vance explains how the majority of his education was paid for by the G.I. Bill, a US law that provides a range of benefits for veterans. Yet he still had to take on three jobs to pay for his living costs, a scenario which we know has become increasingly common in the UK. HEPI’s seminal report, the Student Minimum Income Standard, produced with the support of Technology1 in spring 2024, showed that student maintenance loans now fall well below what students actually need to live on. Students therefore have to look elsewhere for support. HEPI and AdvanceHE’s long-running annual Student Academic Experience Survey showed that for the first time in 2024, the majority of students in the UK now take on paid work to make ends meet.
Vance and his grandmother’s navigation of the financial aid forms highlighted their unfamiliarity with university bureaucratic processes, a case-study in inclusive admissions.
I had puzzled through those financial aid forms with Mamaw … arguing about whether to list her as Mom or as my ‘parent/guardian’. We had worried that unless I somehow obtained and submitted the financial information of Bob Hamel (my legal father), I’d be guilty of fraud. The whole experience had made both of us painfully aware of how unfamiliar we were with the outside world.
Furthermore, Vance discusses that, as a US Marine veteran, he was a mature student at Ohio State, so a few years older than most classmates. Some irritated him with their lack of real-world experience; one disparaged soldiers deployed to Iraq, where Vance had served. Vance decided that he wanted to accelerate his studies and arranged to fast-track his course so that he could graduate in just under two years.
This serves as a reminder about the challenges of ensuring that university classes are inclusive and accommodate diverse students. It also touches on the concept of fast-track degrees which remain quite rare in the UK.
Vance’s declared thinking about which law school to choose after Ohio provides still more food for thought for widening participation professionals. He didn’t consider Yale, Stanford or Harvard at first, the ‘mythical top three’, assuming he didn’t stand a chance of acceptance. But he changed his mind when he heard about a new law graduate hailing not from the ‘top three’ forced to wait tables for lack of other opportunities.
Vance still would not try for Stanford as it required him to obtain a personal sign-off from the Dean at Ohio State which he dared not request. He got into Yale where he clearly acquired imposter syndrome and conflicting identities: was he an Ivy League student or Hillbilly kid? He was unnerved by the sense of entitlement among his mainly upper-middle-class peers, by some snobbery among the academics and by the extensive networks his fellow students could tap into when it mattered.
He is nevertheless very appreciative of the whole experience, revelling in the stellar roster of famous visiting speakers, imposing architecture and the chance to edit the Yale Law Journal. He held his own academically, was taken under the wing of Professor Amy Chua and fell in love with one upper-middle-class student, Usha, his future wife. There are pages of his Yalie reflections on educational, economic and cultural upward mobility which foretell his move into politics.
I did not expect to find so many insights into the structure, funding and culture of the higher education system in this book. Some reviewers of Hillbilly Elegy say that it is not a completely true nor fair account of JD Vance’s experiences, that it over-emphasises the role of personal grit and determination in facilitating upward mobility, and that much of it is at odds with sentiments that Vance has expressed more recently. Nevertheless, if Vance is encouraging us to value higher education, recognize its crucial role for individuals and communities and to strive to get its systems and culture right for those with challenging backgrounds, then that is all to the good. Deep down, Vance knows that universities will help to Make America Great Again.
For more information about the US university system, take a look at this recent HEPI report supported by the Richmond American University London.
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UK universities can support Gaza’s immediate education needs
Since the conflict began in 2023, I have interviewed numerous higher education students and academics, both in Gaza and those displaced elsewhere.
Their stories are profoundly inspiring and speak to the resilience and determination of a community that refuses to let adversity extinguish its aspirations. For students in Gaza, education is far more than a pathway to personal advancement – it is a fragile lifeline, a stabilising force in the midst of chaos, and a source of hope for the future.
For academics, their passion for teaching and inspiring the next generation endures, even as universities lie in ruins and teaching becomes a voluntary effort.
Education cannot wait
In a region devastated by conflict, young Palestinians – particularly those pursuing critical fields such as medicine, pharmacy, and engineering – demonstrate extraordinary resilience as they strive to continue their education under unimaginable circumstances. For these students, education is not merely a personal milestone; it is a transformative force for the public good, equipping them with the skills needed to rebuild their society and economy. UK universities are uniquely positioned to play a pivotal role in addressing these challenges. Having recently supported Ukrainian students and academics during a time of crisis, they have developed valuable experience and insights into providing meaningful and structured support. The need to act now is pressing, as education cannot wait.
The immediate priority is access to online resources – lecture recordings, virtual labs, digital textbooks, and open-access courses – that can sustain continuity in education for Gaza’s students, particularly those in fields like medicine and pharmacy. For instance, final-year medical students in Gaza have been unable to graduate due to the ongoing conflict, creating an urgent need for virtual alternatives to traditional clinical training. Palestinian academics have stressed the importance of accessible online lecture materials and virtual labs to ensure these students can complete their education and serve their communities where they are desperately needed.
For UK universities, supporting these students is not just an act of compassion but a reinforcement of the broader mission of education: to empower, rebuild, and promote peace and stability. Given the logistical and security challenges that make physical attendance in schools and universities nearly impossible, the solution must be digital. UK universities could, for example, create licenses to share lecture materials such as recordings, slides, and lab simulations with students in Gaza.
Virtual mentorship, remote internships
Virtual mentorship programmes could also be established, enabling UK healthcare professionals to guide Palestinian medical students through remote internships and online training modules, equipping them with vital knowledge and practical skills. Collaborating with technology partners to provide devices, software, and secure internet access could further bridge the digital divide, ensuring that students can continue their education even amidst displacement.
This approach could extend to pharmacy and engineering students, who face similar challenges. Pharmacy students could benefit from virtual labs and training programmes, while engineering students could access workshops on sustainable design, structural engineering, and public works – fields critical to Gaza’s rebuilding efforts. These initiatives would not only address immediate educational needs but also help create a pipeline of skilled professionals prepared to contribute to their communities’ recovery.
Beyond individual training, research partnerships between UK universities and Palestinian institutions could provide both short- and long-term educational support. Establishing an interdisciplinary Centre for Palestine Studies within UK universities, for instance, would create a platform for collaborative research on pressing issues such as public health, environmental sustainability, and renewable energy. These partnerships could amplify Palestinian academics’ voices through joint publications, international conferences, and shared funding opportunities, while providing mentorship and resources that are otherwise inaccessible in Gaza.
Our educators could also support the economic recovery in Gaza, which requires more than just rebuilding physical infrastructure; it necessitates cultivating an entrepreneurial spirit. UK universities with strong business and social entrepreneurship programmes could offer virtual training, mentorship, and incubator partnerships for Gaza’s students. Skills workshops on sustainable finance, small business management, and social entrepreneurship could empower young Palestinians to rebuild their economy, fostering resilience and independence.
Beyond education
However, significant challenges remain, including the reconstruction of homes, schools, and infrastructure. For now, support can only reach those students with access to the internet and devices, such as laptops. In the long term, UK universities should partner with charities, NGOs, and funding bodies such as the Wellcome Trust and the Royal Society to help rebuild Gaza’s educational and healthcare infrastructures. Dialogue with Palestinian colleagues is essential to developing a strategic framework for digitisation and reconstruction that is both practical and impactful.
Imagine British universities collaborating with Palestinian institutions to create start-up incubators focused on renewable energy, healthcare technology, or sustainable agriculture. These ventures could foster economic independence, create jobs, and lay the foundation for a stronger and more resilient Gaza. Students in Gaza don’t just want access to education – they want the tools to contribute actively to their communities, creating a sustainable future for themselves and their families.
UK universities now stand at a critical juncture. By extending support to students and academics in conflict zones, they have the opportunity to reaffirm the transformative power of education. Young Palestinians, who continue their studies amidst tremendous adversity, exemplify education’s potential to not only uplift individuals but to rebuild communities.
The UK’s academic community has long championed education as a force for peace, progress, and the public good. By sharing resources, expertise, and a commitment to equity, UK universities can help rebuild Gaza—not just in physical terms, but in spirit, knowledge, and skill.
This is a moment for UK universities to step up – for Gaza’s students, for the future of Gaza, and for the enduring promise of education as a beacon of hope and resilience.
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The courts are slowly clarifying universities’ duty of care
Imagine you’re a student, a member of staff, a parent or even an MP trying to work out what type, level or nature of “duty of care” is owed by a university to students.
The other day Janet Daby, whose day job is Minister for Children, Families and Wellbeing but who also moonlights as a kind of spokesperson for HE given that Jacqui Smith is in the Lords, was asked about duty of care.
Her answer was as follows:
The department’s position is that a duty of care in HE may arise in certain circumstances. Such circumstances would be a matter for the courts to decide, based on the specific facts and context of the case being considered, and will be dependent on the application by a court of accepted common law principles.
That’s unhelpful enough – but the courts don’t seem to be very clear either. Of relevance down this rabbit hole, there’s a fairly lurid bit of press coverage doing the rounds on a case involving a law student at Cambridge who has sued the university for its refusal to award him a PhD.
The Mail, with its usual insinuative air quotes, runs the headline as follows:
Cambridge law student sues university after he failed his PhD, claiming it held up his career as a barrister because he was “less able” to write a thesis.
The case itself is interesting because of the way in which the judge in a recent appeal has differentiated between different bits of law that are supposed to protect students.
And in a context of disabled students routinely reporting problems with the way in which reasonable adjustments are delivered, there could be significant implications, depending on what happens next, for practice in the future.
Background
Jacob Meagher is a disabled PhD student at Cambridge who alleges that he was not provided with an adequate supervisor or advisor, and was denied certain scholarships – acts which he claims were acts of victimisation.
He previously brought a claim against the university on those issues in 2017, and reached a settlement in 2019 which involved him restarting his PhD. But he alleges he was subjected to a number of detriments after the settlement – crucially, that in connection with his PhD examination, the university was aware of the adjustments he needed to avoid a disadvantage because of his disability, but failed to provide them.
That’s partly because they had been recommended by the university’s Accessibility and Disability Resource Centre (ADRC) in a plan, but not implemented in the department, which is the sort of scenario that Disabled Students UK’s research suggests is common.
That, Meagher claims, led to a suicide attempt and hospital admissions – things he claims the university was made aware of but refused to help or support him. Then following complaints, the university recognised the issues with the initial viva and is working to ensure a fair process for his re-examination.
But even though the university agreed to let the student re-defend his thesis and implement reasonable adjustments, he took the university to court for several reasons:
- The case includes additional claims beyond the failure to implement reasonable adjustments during the initial viva. He alleges various breaches of the Equality Act 2010, including victimisation and discrimination, stemming from incidents throughout his PhD program. These include claims of inadequate supervision, vetoing of scholarships, and mishandling of complaints.
- Meagher is seeking compensation for damages already incurred. He claims that the university’s actions have caused him financial losses, including missed opportunities for a tenancy as a barrister due to the delay in completing his PhD. He is also seeking general damages for the distress and harm to his mental health caused by the university’s alleged actions.
- He is seeking a legal declaration that the university unlawfully discriminated against him, validating his claims and potentially influencing future practice at the university. He is also seeking to clarify legal issues concerning the university’s obligations ahead of that agreed re-examination.
The university or individuals?
When he initially brought his claim in August 2023, he included six individuals as defendants in the case – all senior employees of the university that held specific leadership roles within the departments and committees relevant to his complaints.
He argued that in addition to the liability of their employer under section 109, section 110 of the Equality Act 2010 allows individuals to be held personally liable for acts of discrimination committed in the course of their employment.
Meagher’s argument was that these individuals, by virtue of their positions, were responsible for the university’s decisions and actions that he alleged were discriminatory and caused him harm. So he sought a declaration from the court that these individuals had discriminated against him, in addition to the declaration sought against the university.
The university’s legal team argued that including these individuals as defendants provided no tangible benefit to Meagher as the university had acknowledged its liability for discriminatory acts committed by its employees, and that the claims against them were duplicative and unnecessarily increased the cost and complexity of the legal proceedings.
The County Court Judge hearing the initial applications in the case agreed with the university’s arguments and struck out the claims against the individuals, citing the “Jameel principle” that allows the courts to strike out claims that are technically valid but considered an abuse of process due to the disproportionate costs and burden they impose on the defendants compared to the potential benefit to the claimant.
And on appeal, a High Court judge has now agreed – hence the headlines. But it’s where the High Court has disagreed with the County Court where things get interesting.
Breach of contract?
In the County Court, Meagher argued that the university’s failure to implement adjustments recommended by the ADRC for his viva constituted not just breaches of the Equality Act 2010, but also breaches of contract and tort – and once you’re in that space the legal principles of foreseeability of harm, and the duty of care in providing services with reasonable skill and care, kick in.
On the duty to avoid foreseeable harm, the principle basically means that individuals and organisations have a legal responsibility to take reasonable steps to prevent harm that is reasonably foreseeable as a consequence of their actions or omissions. If the Court determines that the harm Meagher experienced (e.g. psychological distress, academic setbacks) was a foreseeable consequence of the university’s failure to implement the adjustments, that would strengthen his claim for breach of contract and tort.
Then there’s the duty of care in carrying out a service with reasonable skill and care issue. That’s enshrined in section 49 of the Consumer Rights Act 2015, and also applies under common law principles of negligence – and requires service providers, in this case, the university, to exercise reasonable skill and care in the provision of their services to consumers, in this instance, Meagher as a student.
The question in this case is whether the university, by failing to implement the adjustments recommended by its own ADRC, breached this duty of care by not conducting his PhD viva with the requisite skill and care, considering his disability. Meagher argues that the university’s failure to implement the ADRC’s recommendations, which he says were specific to his needs and aimed at ensuring a fair and accessible assessment process, constitutes a breach of this duty.
And at the heart of all that is the question of competence standards and how they intersect with reasonable adjustments for disabled students under the Equality Act 2010.
Competence standards
Competence standards are essentially the academic benchmarks used to assess whether a student has attained the necessary knowledge, skills, and abilities for a particular qualification. You’ll recall from the Natasha Abrahart case that there was disagreement about whether presenting in-person to a lecture theatre was itself a required competence, or merely a way of assessing competence that could be (reasonably) adjusted.
The Equality Act doesn’t require universities to adjust competence standards to accommodate disabled students – but it does require universities to make reasonable adjustments to the assessment processes used to evaluate a student’s competence.
This distinction is crucial in Meagher’s case because he argues that the university’s failure to implement certain adjustments, specifically those recommended by the ADRC, resulted in him being disadvantaged in demonstrating his competence during his viva.
He argues that requiring him to take the viva in a standard format, without the recommended adjustments, placed him at a substantial disadvantage due to his disabilities, and that they were necessary to enable him to fairly demonstrate his understanding of the subject matter and meet the PhD competence standard.
Meagher proposed that his PhD assessment be based on an analysis of his published academic papers, a method already used for university staff, rather than a traditional thesis. He requested a legally-qualified editor to proofread his thesis for aesthetic and presentation standards, along with significant restructuring or adjustments to the viva process. His proposed adjustments included written feedback from examiners on areas needing improvement, followed by revisions and reassessment, as well as receiving written questions and a detailed agenda seven days prior to the viva to reduce anxiety.
To further support his needs, Meagher requested oral questions be linked to specific thesis sections in active voice, pauses and breaks after oral questions for cognitive processing, and the ability to write down questions for clarity. He also sought the option to clarify ambiguous questions with examiner explanations and breaks of at least ten minutes every hour to manage fatigue and maintain focus during the viva.
The Student Support Document (SSD) created by the ADRC included much of that – but Meagher says that the university failed to provide it to the examiners before the viva, leaving them unaware of his disabilities and the necessary adjustments – only providing a list of adjustments. He also alleges that adjustments to the viva format were not made – the examiners, he says, failed to avoid unnotified topics, clearly signpost questions, and accommodate the thesis format.
He was then granted an interim injunction against the university in July 2024 preventing it from taking any action over his PhD course or examination without consent from both parties pending the conclusion of the legal proceedings.
Two big issues
In other words, there are two things going on. On the one hand, in the discrimination arguments the student wants clarity over the reasonable adjustments/competence standards issue before that re-examination issue goes ahead.
Depending on what happens next, there could be significant implications across the sector as it continues to try to wrangle reasonable adjustments to assessment and the differences between competence standards in a subject that shouldn’t change, and mere methods for assessing them that could.
On the other hand, the potential compensation would be higher if Meagher was able to make the contract/tort arguments for a breach of contract and the implied duty to act with reasonable skill and care. Crucial there is whether, once it was agreed, the plan from the ADRC became part of the contract with the student – where if so we’re into avoiding foreseeable harm and so on. And that matters because it looks like it could create a form of duty of care.
On that issue, in the County Court Meagher argued that the failure to implement adjustments for his viva constituted breaches of contract and tort – but the judge reasoned that that was an attempt to improperly import the statutory duty to make reasonable adjustments under the Equality Act 2010 into contractual and duties of care.
But on appeal in the High Court, the contract and tort claims have been reinstated – the judge found that the County Court judge had got it wrong on “you’re trying to use two bits of law on one issue,” and argued that once it had agreed them, the university had separate contractual and tortious duties to implement the recommendations, irrespective of whether those recommendations aligned with the reasonable adjustments duty under the Equality Act.
And so that’s where things now get very interesting – because of who the pressure goes on now in any tug of war between professional services and academics that disabled students often find themselves in.
Where will the pressure fall?
It is possible that the pressure goes onto academic departments. If universities face potential legal liability for breaches of contract or tort when they fail to implement their reasonable adjustment plans, that could strengthen the hand of frustrated disabled students, and strengthen the authority of disability services departments within universities to ensure that their recommendations are given due weight and followed through.
It could also mean better training for academic staff on disability law, or clearer procedures for communicating and implementing reasonable adjustments so academic departments are aware of their obligations.
But it’s also possible that the risk of legal action causes universities to pressure their professional disability staff to be more cautious in creating and publishing reasonable adjustment plans that they could later be held to account over. They may put in steps like ensuring relevant academics agree first, slowing down already slow processes. There may also be a chilling effect on adjustments that beleaguered staff know will be hard to get academic staff to agree to.
And of course there’s more to run here – in the eventual potential outcome of the case – on what is and isn’t a reasonable adjustment to a PhD viva as a method of assessment.
What is clear is that the chances of an individual student having the money, time or smarts to take a case as far as Meagher has so far are slim. It also remains the case that disabled students’ rights in areas like this are desperately unclear, that the legal frameworks surrounding them interact in potentially unhelpful ways, and their access to support is heavily restricted once at the end of their course.
Someone, somewhere – perhaps OfS’ Disability in Higher Education Advisory Panel – needs to grip these issues properly. And next time Janet Daby is forced to issue an answer like “well it’s for the courts to decide”, perhaps she could remind herself and her boss in the other place that she’s a lawmaker.
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A matter of time: why our universities can’t crack the part-time postgrad code
A preliminary analysis of UK university websites finds gaps in the practical information on how postgraduate part-time study actually works, combined with inconsistent acknowledgement of the challenges faced by these learners. Ewan Fairweather, Postgraduate Student Recruitment Manager at The University of Edinburgh asks: ‘Should we really be surprised that many universities find it challenging to recruit part-time postgraduate students?’
‘New Year, New You’. It’s January, the month when ambitions and aspirations take shape. Right now, those of us working in university marketing and recruitment are capitalising on this self-improvement trend, targeting potential postgraduate learners and helping them navigate the labyrinth of course choice, affordability and time commitments.
With more than 13,000 part-time Master’s options listed on Findamasters.com, learners are spoiled for choice; there’s a strong chance they’ll find something relevant out there. But can they afford postgraduate study? And crucially, can they find the time to do it?
Busy lives
For those fortunate enough to be able to fund a part-time Master’s, it will require the considerable investment of another increasingly scarce commodity: time. And this is particularly the case among the largest segment of potential domestic postgraduate students, those aged 30+. This mature audience of prospective learners inevitably carries more personal and professional baggage – careers, relationships, families, caring responsibilities, community and volunteering roles, mortgages and loans.
That is why they are more likely to be considering part-time postgraduate study and so need to work out in very practical terms how to balance learning and living; to picture precisely what it will actually mean.
Drilling down into the detail
I know that universities do so much behind the scenes to address the needs of all types of learners, but sadly this does not come across in the following statements, the likes of which I frequently encountered when searching for part-time postgraduate course details online:
- As the School timetable changes from year to year and is not finalised until August, we are unable to confirm this information in advance.
- Part-time students are strongly advised to wait until the timetable is available before finalising their other commitments.
- Classes can be timetabled Monday-Friday between 9am-6pm. We cannot give timetables in advance of enrolment unfortunately.
With such logistical and chronological vagueness, is it realistic to expect busy people to make life-changing decisions? Certainly timetabling is complicated but we need a clearer answer to the question, ‘So I can plan my life, can you give me an idea of what my timetable will look like?’
Postgraduate part-time learning may not generate the short-term financial boost that the sector needs right now, but we have to plan for today and tomorrow, especially if there is, ‘a need for more people with postgraduate skills in the workforce’. And if the largest segment of domestic students is older, we can assume that many will be looking at part-time in all its glorious forms (online, blended, block, burst, evenings, distance) as their preferred study mode. We have to up our game; timetabling challenges may pose us major headaches, but for prospective students, they are less relevant.
What I did
With a view to improving the information and guidance online for prospective part-time postgraduate students considering the University of Edinburgh, I carried out some exploratory analysis. I sought to understand how UK universities articulated the benefits and practicalities of part-time postgraduate study during the traditional core search period of early January. Typing ‘part time masters’ followed by the institution name into Google, I clicked on the most appropriate results, then evaluated these pages according to two categories:
- Coverage: Whether part-time study was included, or contextualised, on the page and the extent to which this was done with empathy and understanding.
- Specifics: The level of deeper detail provided (the ‘how, where, who and when’ of part-time delivery).
Pockets of best practice
I gathered the information to improve the content on my own institution’s website with a focus on these busy learners who are looking to successfully juggle high-level study with busy lives. It’s clear that collectively we must do better to address their requirements but there are nonetheless pockets of best practice I believe we can learn from:
- Leeds: offers a blueprint for the provision of specific timetable information for each part-time course. It may not look beautiful but when you eventually get there, you find the details you need, combined with a helpful disclaimer
- Bedfordshire: From a dedicated part-time page, you navigate to a list of what’s available part-time. From here, you find a course schedule and timetable of exactly when and where the units take place presented in a user-friendly format.
- Birkbeck, RVC and Brighton provide extensive details of when and where teaching takes place so you can better manage your time.
- Birmingham City University, scores strong on empathy, thinking deeply about the profile and specific needs of their prospective part-time learners
- The Open University lives and breathes part-time. The ‘how’ section is fabulous, but I was expecting more on the ‘when and how do I study/attend classes?’
- Some institutions promise innovative delivery models designed to support part-time learners’ needs, including De Montfort (‘Block Teaching’) and the RCA (‘Burst Mode’)
- Kent is launching a new curriculum and a progressive approach to timetabling this year, designed to help busy people manage their lives better.
Universities with high or medium part-time learning coverage and/or specifics on their website
My recommendations
In concluding, here are some (relatively) easy-to-implement recommendations that will give postgraduate part-time students a clearer idea of the time they need to commit to their studies:
- Publish sample timetables: definitive times and locations may not be possible, but is there a way of providing a sample timetable or sharing last year’s timetables?
- Consolidate information on part-time study: consider bringing together all information on part-time learning into an easily findable resource or section
- Provide bespoke part-time course structure details: interrogate the curriculum from a part-time learner’s perspective, then re-write and update
- Show that we care: acknowledge that part-time learners have specific needs. Ideally, do this in a warm and welcoming tone.
It is complicated, but let’s aim to do part-time better – we owe it to our learners!
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No more civic washing – most universities now pay their staff a living wage
Today 88 per cent of UK universities pay a living wage, marking a significant increase from 2022 when I first published an article on Wonkhe that suggested that several universities were engaged in “civic washing” – claiming civic credentials without the concrete action to back up their claims.
My argument then was that a significant proportion of universities had made public commitments to be “civic” but were not paying the living wage. How, I often asked myself, can you claim to be civic and not treat your lowest paid, and often local, staff with the dignity of a living wage?
The Living Wage Foundation calculates the living wage to be £12.60 (£13.85 in London) according to the cost of living, based on a basket of household goods and services. This is above the statutory minimum wage, which the government brands as the “national living wage.” Employers – including universities – have used the language of the “voluntary living wage” (VLW) where they claim to pay the level determined by the Living Wage Foundation but are not accredited in doing so. This contrasts with the “real living wage” (RLW) which is when an employer is accredited by the Living Wage Foundation as paying the living wage.
To be accredited with the Living Wage Foundation an employer must pay all directly employed staff the living wage and have an agreed plan in place for third party contracted staff such as for outsourced catering, cleaning and security. The requirement placed on subcontracted staff is one of the reasons that universities and other employers pay the VLW as opposed to the RLW.
Real progress
As reported in a series of Wonkhe articles (here and here), over the past four years there has been an increase in the number of universities paying the real and voluntary living wage. In the context of the acute financial crisis impacting many universities this is a massive achievement that should be celebrated. Indeed, I am aware of only one university that has de-credited from the Living Wage Foundation over the past few years.
In 2019 (when I first looked into the living wage issue) only 38 of Universities UK members were accredited with the LWF. Today that has increased to 80 with four accrediting in 2024. However, this does not take into account the universities that pay the VLW. The only way to determine this is to check institutional websites and where no information is available to follow up with a freedom of information request. In 2024, we contacted 61 universities and determined that 39 were paying a voluntary living wage.
This year I decided to update this analysis by focusing on the 22 universities that confirmed they did not pay the RLW or VLW. Two of these were private providers that did not respond to a FOI last year, so I excluded them. The remaining 20 did respond, of which 12 unambiguously acknowledged that they did not pay the living wage, three said they were considering it but currently do not pay the VLW, 2 said no, but added that their pay scales are above the living wage and thus were included in the analysis and three said that they now pay the VLW.
This means that out of 140 universities in my sample, 123 now pay the real or voluntary living wage (88 per cent), up from 82 per cent last year. Whilst this is undoubtedly cause for celebration, it is important to note that the VLW does not require a commitment for subcontractors to be paid a living wage.
As some of you know, I am off to pastures new and thus this will be the last time I update the analysis. However, I am delighted that Citizens UK’s community of practice on higher education has agreed to take on the exercise and I have shared with them all the data from previous years. Perhaps when I return to the UK the university sector will have set a precedent by being wholly accredited with the Living Wage Foundation.
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Universities aren’t entitled to autonomy. They have to earn it
By Edward Venning, Managing Partner at Six Ravens Consulting.
Not for the first time, an interventionist Secretary of State stands ready to help English universities. Not surprisingly, every item in her agenda – from regional engagement to business models – will place conditions of ‘wide-scale reform’ upon universities.
We should reasonably worry. Not because of Bridget Phillipson, but because we have traded away our self-determination for years.
The debate about autonomy has a certain monotheistic quality. Everyone agrees autonomy is the rock upon which knowledge is built, while vigorously sinning against it. Different governments tie finance to reform, as with Phillipson, or attempt the oxymoron of regulating academic freedom. Meanwhile, universities accept cash with strings attached from government, major donors and international students. Government generally cops the blame for this too, while we appeal to inalienable protections in the Higher Education Reform Act (HERA).
But autonomy is not absolute or inviolable. It is not determined by functional independence or private status. It is a behaviour. It comes from actively managing a complex web of power relationships and trade-offs while protecting our control over key functions. It is built through organisational design, concerned with incentives, accountability and dynamic relationship management. The more robustly we design, the less likely our autonomy will be tested.
As nations have found throughout history, autonomy is far from inalienable. Anton Muscatelli points out that this complex negotiation requires constant attention and re-calibration. It must be promoted through the active management of three forces:
- to comply with state direction and societal expectation;
- to conform with sector and industrial norms; and
- to copy each other’s strategies.
The three forces are not in themselves good or bad for autonomy. A minimal level of regulation protects the student interest. Good standards add value. Some strategies deserve emulation. They are forces for good to the extent to which we use them to improve our engagement with the world. These forces become toxic through neglect, uncritical or anticipatory compliance and inept execution.
And our approach to university autonomy could certainly do with an upgrade. The defensive case is given a thorough outing by James Tooley and John Drew, in Cry Freedom: The regulatory assault on institutional autonomy in England’s universities (2024). In this entertaining beasting of the Office for Students, they draw invidious comparisons between what the regulator is supposed to do and what it actually does. They devastate Susan Lapworth’s claim that institutional autonomy can be overridden. Only a lawyer might improve (or rebut) their analysis of regulatory overreach, even if the reader wonders what, short of class action, would induce DfE and OfS to accept their recommendations.
The sector shackles itself
Equally, a fair-minded judge would accept that the sector’s supine approach to autonomy undermines their case for change. Our surrender of autonomy to the state for money is part of a wider readiness to sell the pass in exchange for benefit.
No one can blame the government (or indeed any major industry or donor) for offering a Faustian pact. It is in their nature to seek control. Nor should universities be blamed for seeking patronage from the state, the market or indeed non-state actors. No one, as Jo Johnson recently argued in his report about the China question, would seriously suggest universities should disengage from the world. Instead, we need a robust, dynamic framework for engagement, exerting maximum self-determination in some areas while accepting constraints in others.
It is worth remembering that HERA busies itself with a single dimension of autonomy. This is founded on the precept of the ‘self-critical, cohesive community of scholars’. While of central importance, academic autonomy is one of four dimensions of autonomy recognised by the European University Association. The other three dimensions (organisational, financial and staffing) represent the soft underbelly of autonomy, absent the legitimacy of the academic.
We lack the toolkit to recognise and manage trade-offs across all four of the EUA’s dimensions. Regulatory interest in academic freedom is a clear-cut incursion on academic autonomy. The same is true of staff and student demands to end relationships with Israeli universities. Pressure on non-academic autonomy is often ostensibly internal. The University and College Union’s (UCU) Four Fights, #MeToo and Black Lives Matter have all successfully targeted the non-academic dimensions of autonomy. In fact, there is almost always a dynamic connection between internal and external forces. After all, the 1968 protests began with the right of male and female students to sleep together and ended by permanently altering university governance.
Away from the academic space, autonomy is lost in less obvious ways.
For example, universities cede considerable organisational autonomy through voluntary commitments to a wide range of charters, benchmarks and league tables. But each external assurance scheme concedes executive room for manoeuvre. Almost worse for a knowledge institution, they concede expertise to a third party. The schemes are regressive because they create a planning burden that small institutions cannot service. And the goalposts move without our input – all assurance schemes ratchet their criteria over time. Sometimes this means that compliance may seem tantamount to wishful thinking. Even critics get confused. At one point, the last government was simultaneously asking universities to leave some schemes (such as Stonewall’s famous Diversity Champions Programme and Athena Swan) and adopt others (such as the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) definition of anti-semitism).
Ganging up
Autonomy can be defined as a type of managed interdependence. It is possible to collaborate with third parties and still maintain self-determination. Indeed, this may be the only way most universities can achieve the scale necessary to confront the most monumental tasks.
Active, relational autonomy is central to effective partnership with government, industry and civil society in complex, interconnected challenges. For example, some of the biggest bets in biotech and STEM have been made as joint ventures.
At the operational level, control over admissions and technology is rightly seen as foundational, and yet we are content for UCAS and Jisc to manage critical processes and infrastructure. Meanwhile, numerous universities have spent millions trying to build a proprietary full-stack online learning offer, while Silicon Valley spends billions on the same task. Arguably, our autonomy is weakest when we go it alone.
This will become increasingly pressing as stressed universities contemplate the possibility of forced merger. What mechanisms will sustain their autonomy, identity and distinctiveness in the arms of a bigger institution?
As shown by Gill Evans, much of the sector used to operate within much larger non-academic organisations, such as local government. Even the most autonomous parts of the sector were interdependent. The collegiate traditions of Oxford and Cambridge demonstrate how shared governance protects autonomy while enabling scale. Royal Charters were mostly awarded to institutions which were (then or subsequently) members of a bigger university. Group structures and formal partnerships between institutions provide varying degrees of freedom to their constituent parts, above a critical threshold of autonomy. These arrangements distribute risk and create safety in numbers, mitigating the hierarchy that makes some institutions more vulnerable than others.
Asserting autonomy
The sector needs more muscular collective action. Individual institutions struggle to resist pressure from regulators, funders and other stakeholders. A stronger sector voice could help establish red lines while engaging constructively with reform agendas.
As argued in my recent debate paper, the overall ability of the sector to exert its autonomy is low compared to other sectors. This has several solutions. We need to establish a strong, leadership body across the tertiary ecosystem, robustly managing the big picture on resource distribution and regulatory burden. We need more sophisticated uses of corporate form, not just the blunt instrument of M&A. But above all, we need to recover an assertive self-confidence.
Let’s be inspired by the private sector and our own history. The original English universities were guilds, muscular and monopolistic in behaviour. Commercial autonomy is not abstract or passive, nor does it derive in a mystical way from the capitalist impulse. It is a self-generating, assertive precondition for entering the market. If universities cannot make a positive case for self-determination, and are not inclined to exercise it, we cannot expect the government of the day – or anyone else – to respect our autonomy. Instead, we need dynamic, structured engagement with external and internal forces. Autonomy will be the result.