Scheduled for Feb 20, 2025. The Spring 2024 Inclusive Growth and Racial Equity Thought Leadership Lecture Series will feature a fireside chat with Dr. Ibram X. Kendi, Andrew W. Mellon Professor in the Humanities, Professor of History, Director of the BU Center for Antiracist Research, and National Book Award-winning Author.
You’re not supposed to have heroes at 40, or at least not admit to as much in the august pages of the HEPI blog. But here’s my confession. I have two and they are both called James.
The first – James (Jimmy) Anderson, England’s greatest living sportsperson – isn’t relevant for the blog (although surely he deserves recognition from our great universities in the North West?). Instead this blog is about the other James – James Timpson – until recently CEO of Timpson Group and now Lord Timpson, Minister of State for Prisons, Probation and Reducing Reoffending.
James Timpson is best known for the recruitment of former prisoners, with ex-offenders comprising around 10% of his company’s workforce at any one time. As his journey of employing ex-offenders developed, it led him to become a national figure – championing not just jobs for ex-offenders but prison reform. In 2016, he became the chairman of the Prison Reform Trust, founded the Employment Advisory Board network across the prison estate and, after the general election, became one of the Government’s most eye-catching appointments as the Minister of State responsible for all of this.
It is his approach as a CEO, though, which offers an interesting perspective for higher education leaders. Not only is the business known for its recruitment policies but for many other progressive measures. He wouldn’t describe it as such, but James Timpson is a business leader known for putting social purpose into action.
He would steer clear from using the term social value, or the increasingly common ‘purpose-led business’, because he finds corporate jargon maddening. This is one of the many lessons he shares in his book, which offers advice to leaders and would-be leaders on how to create a thriving organisation ‘that puts people first.’ The book – published before he became a Minister – is structured in eight chapters (or, as he calls them, lessons) with various interesting observations included in each. For this blog, however, I have pulled out three key themes which permeate through the book and are highly relevant to our sector.
University-employee relations are often fraught with tensions and have been riddled with industrial action in recent years – so could a key-cutting business offer a better way forward?
We’ve seen the transformative power of treating colleagues with kindness and respect, which then extends to how teams interact with customers. It’s a virtuous circle that can make our shops, and indeed all places of customer service, better for everyone involved.
The quote above might come across a stating the bleeding obvious or even a little saccharine without the rest of the chapter it is written in, but it is important to put cynicism aside here, because throughout the book – and I would argue its number one focus – is to foster the right colleague experience.
The idea of focussing on the colleague experience in an era of redundancies and ‘cost transformation’ may be too culturally difficult or simply inauthentic for our sector. But I would argue that the present circumstances make it even more important. At the heart of Timpson’s approach is a very human and empathetic one which respects colleagues’ individual circumstances rather than one which relies on policies and processes.
Timpson has a Director of Happiness (again, please hold off on your cynicism) whose job revolves around providing support to colleagues confronting crises or challenges in their professional or personal lives. This person helps organise funerals, helps colleagues find somewhere to live and can even unlock financial support when necessary. Whether it is physical fitness, financial wellbeing or mental health, Timpson also offers a comprehensive package of welfare support for employees. Shouldn’t we do this too?
Strong workplace benefits add to the positive colleague experience. This is not unusual for universities; academics and professional services tend to have great annual leave entitlements and exceptional pensions (compared to the private sector), but again, what comes through from reading The Happy Index is the human and empathetic element to their approach. They offer extra days off for milestones – a grandchild’s birthday or a school concert. They provide chauffeur-driven cars for an employee’s wedding, and they own 19 holiday homes dotted across the UK for Timpson’s colleagues to use for free.
Much of this approach isn’t new or revolutionary, there are clear similarities with the 19th century quaker businesses, or Percival Perry’s policy of ‘high wages, reduced hours, and extensive corporate welfare’[1] for running Ford’s first factories in the UK. Yet, in an era of private equity financialisation, it is all too rare in the modern age. When Governments talk about universities learning from the private sector it is the likes of Timpson they should be referring to.
Timpson’s human approach to the colleague experience is aided by simplicity – a value which cuts across the eight lessons in the book. When he writes about data, he says that leaders can become overly reliant on it and lose sight of what really matters. There are only four pieces of data James Timpson really cares about. Daily sales figures, customer service scores, cash flow – and what he describes as The Happy Index. This is a survey they regularly run and track with all colleagues, which asks one simple question: ‘On a scale of 1-10, how happy are you with the support you get from your team?’.
If Timpson is right in his view that ‘the way colleagues feel reflects the way our customers will feel’, wouldn’t it be fascinating to see if this correlates to higher education? Perhaps universities could post this question each Friday via an app (not dissimilar to innovations like Teacher Tapp) to track colleague satisfaction and then correlate it with student experience data.
Another relevant piece of advice is to avoid ‘entrepreneuritis’. Timpson says this is an area he struggles with as it is common for entrepreneurs to think they can venture into any business and make it thrive. Yet the pitfalls are as large as the opportunities. This reminded me of much of the evidence for the UPP Foundation Civic University Commission, where we found a huge amount of positive activity, but rarely was it strategic and connected to the needs of the city or region.
The civic arena won’t be the only part of the university where our sector has to grapple with entrepreneuritis, but fortunately, Timpson offers some common-sense advice for how to test whether diversification is worth the investment, time and effort, based on three questions:
Will it benefit the company, will the company fit into our culture, and is it going to be more work than it’s worth?
All of these can be adapted for higher education.
The third theme brings us back to what Timpson is best known for. A ‘Timpson University’ would really lean into progressive recruitment for both academics and professional services colleagues, as well as adopt some of the most creative and impactful social value programmes in the private and public sectors. This shouldn’t be regarded as an act of charity. This is very much enlightened self-interest – James Timpson says that ‘returning citizens are often the most dedicated, honest and hardworking colleagues we can find’. A recruitment policy for colleagues which looks at supporting the most disadvantaged – ex-offenders, people who have suffered homelessness or who are care-experienced; alongside local recruitment (as some universities already do), which targets the poorest neighbourhoods in the region, could be transformational. The additional opportunity for a university, unlike a shoe repair shop, is the symbiotic relationship this approach could have with its widening participation strategy.
Many universities have programmes to support disadvantaged people into employment, but I’m not sure any are as sophisticated or impressive as Timpson’s. There are clearly challenges, but the book is at its best when it details the journey the business has been through and some of the ways to successfully manage ex-offenders – unsurprisingly, the human approach and a culture which embraces kindness and the support and guidance of colleagues is critical.
James Timpson’s book is a fascinating insight into running a successful business the right way. It really does show the art of the possible in terms of doing good while making a profit. But there are three weaknesses in a largely excellent read. Pulled together from a collection of Sunday Times articles, at times it can suffer from a lack of coherence. It is quite amusing, for example, to read about the importance of returning to the office on page 160 while finding out about the long-term potential of remote work on page 166. There’s also a little too much positive spin throughout the book. In the section about entrepreneuritis and diversifying income streams all of his examples ended up being successful. It would have been an even better read if he offered examples of real failure. I would have also liked to read more about his views on how the nature of business ownership impacts social value, something which should be explored in greater depth.
These are minor criticisms, however. The book offers excellent advice for leaders in any sector – even our universities – on the way to run a successful organisation in the 21st Century.
[1] Kit Kowol: Blue Jerusalem: British Conservatism, Winston Churchill, and the Second World War
In 1994, the year that HESA was born and we started to count those with degrees from former polytechnics in the stats, about 225,000 full-time home-domiciled students graduated with a first degree in the UK.
Today the Russell Group enrols about 350k. Funny that those who say too many people go to university tend to stay tight lipped about that part of the sector’s “dilution”.
Ten years later, then funding council boss Howard Newby said:
[T]he English—and I do mean the English—do have a genius for turning diversity into hierarchy and I am not sure what we can do about that, to be quite honest. It is very regrettable that we cannot celebrate diversity rather than constantly turning it into hierarchy.
The switch of circa 125,000 students from poly to university in the early 90s was one of the signature moments of the status/sorting panic that has accompanied the expansion of higher education over time.
The story runs something like this. Access to university has never been evenly distributed across the social-economics. And having a degree seems to bestow upon graduates socio-economic advantages.
So over the long-run, rather than doing the hard yards of making entry distribution fairer – which, whatever method is used, necessarily involves saying “no” to some who think they have a right to go – the easier thing has always been to say “yes” and expand instead.
Hence when in 2018 OfS had a choice between Option 1:
…it obviously couldn’t persuade ministers to front out Option 1. So everyone let Option 2 happen instead – only without the money to support it. And now look at the mess we’re in.
Option 2 – whether applied to the whole sector or just the elite part – creates a problem for those who enjoy the relative rarity of the signalling. The signal is less powerful, partly because there are few who look back on their time at university and think “maybe if it was truly meritocratic I wouldn’t have made it in”.
It also ought to be expensive to expand – so over time both universities and their students are instead expected to become more and more efficient, or fund participation through future salary contributions to pay for the expansion.
And if overall participation levels off, Option 2 applied just to the elite part of the sector yanks students away from everywhere else – with huge geographical and social consequences along the way.
There is a human capital upside of mass participation. The better educated the population, the more inventive and healthy and happy and productive it will be in general. But without other actions, that doesn’t address the relative inequalities of getting in or getting on.
The phrase “social mobility” doesn’t actually appear in the 2024 Labour Manifesto – but it’s lurking around in the opportunity mission as follows:
We are a country where who your parents are – and how much money they have – too often counts for more than your effort and enterprise… so breaking the pernicious link between background and success will be a defining mission for Labour.
Good luck with that. Part of the question for me that surrounds that is the scale of that challenge insofar as it concerns higher education – and what is coming soon in the stats that will make that easier or harder.
For the past few decades, different iterations of the “efficiencies” needed to massify – which focussed largely on the transfer of the costs of participation from state to graduate – have had three core features designed to reconcile the expansion and efficiency thing with the goals of social mobility before, during and after HE:
Taken together, the idea has been that accessing the signalling benefits will be easier via expansion and fairness fixes; that the experience itself resembles the “school uniform” principle of everyone having a fairly similar experience; and then that those who reap the economic rewards shoulder the biggest burden (and in that a burden a bit bigger than it actually cost) in paying for it all.
You tackle inequality partly through opportunity, and partly through outcomes – the rich pay more both than others and more than the actual cost. So central was redistribution to the design of the fee and loan system in the last decade that the government announced and formally consulted on a plan for early repayment mechanisms to stop people on high incomes being able to “unfairly buy themselves out of this progressive system”.
But a decade on, the government is in a real bind. The initiatives aimed at broadening the characteristics of those enrolling into higher education look much less impactful than just expanding – especially in “high tariff” providers.
The cost of living – especially for housing – is wrecking the “school uniform” principle unless we were to loan students even more money – which has its… costs.
And having reduced interest on student loans to inflation – paid for by a longer loan term – it’s hard to think of a more politically toxic move than slapping it back on, however redistributive it will look on an excel sheet.
That all exacerbates the social mobility challenge. Students cluster into the Russell Group because that group of providers now has the same “meaning” for the press and parents that “university” had prior to 1992.
Whether in the Russell Group or not, the differential student experiences of haves and have-nots (both inside and outside of the curriculum) will show up both in their actual skills and what they can “sell” to employers. And the most successful graduates from the most attractive-sounding universities will pay less for university across their lifetime, while everyone else will pay more.
In a way though, even thinking about social mobility or the redistributive graduate contribution scheme in terms of relative lifetime salary is the biggest problem of all. Because given what’s coming, it really should be the least of our worries.
Since Tony Blair increased tuition fees to £3,000, above-inflation house price growth has delivered an unearned, unequal and untaxed £3 trillion capital gains windfall in Britain. 86 per cent above inflation house price growth over the past 20 years has delivered capital gains on home owners’ main residences worth £3 trillion – now a fifth of all wealth in Britain.
The value of household wealth stood at around three times the value of national income throughout the 1960s and 1970s – but since the 1980s, the rate at which households have accumulated wealth has accelerated, outpacing the growth in national income, so that the stock of household wealth was estimated to be 7.6 times GDP at the end of 2020.
Wealth matters. For those who have accumulated it, it provides a better ability to absorb shocks to income, easier access to lower-cost credit, and facilitates investment in significant assets such as housing. But it’s not equally held.
Wealth is about twice as unequal as the income distribution, and because growth in wealth is outpacing growth in household income it is harder for those currently without it to accumulate it, and enjoy the same benefits outlined above – because as the value of assets rise relative to income, it becomes harder for someone to “save” their way up the wealth distribution.
The least wealthy third of households have gained less than £1,000 per adult on average, compared to an average gain of £174,000 for the wealthiest ten per cent. Gains have been largest in London, where on average people have gained £76,000 since 2000, and smallest in the North East of England, with an average gain of just £21,000.
As Robert Colville points out in The Times:
We have come to realise that what is really dividing our society, as that £5.5 trillion starts to cascade down the generations, is not the boomers’ greed but their love.
There’s an age aspect to the inequality – those aged 60+ have seen the biggest windfalls at around £80,000 on average – compared to an average of less than £20,000 for those under 40 years of age. But that age aspect also points to something hugely important that’s coming next – because eventually, those older people will die – and who they transfer their wealth to, and what it’s invested in, will matter. Because not only does wealth inequality dwarf wage inequality, it also predicts and drives it.
Here thanks to the Resolution Foundation we can see how intergenerational transfers (both gifts and inheritances) will become increasingly important during the century, as older households disperse their wealth at death via inheritances. It estimates that those transfers are set to double over the next 20 years as the large baby-boomer cohort move into late retirement – and it is likely that more wealth will be dispersed by these households while they are alive through gifts.
And it’s when that ramps up that the interaction with any tuition fee system that will really start to matter.
Since 2015/16, DfE figures for England tell us that between 10.1 and 13.6 per cent of entrants at Level 6 have self-funded. Some of that will be PT/CPD type activity, some of it students running out of SLC entitlement, and some not drawing down debt for religious reasons – but most will be people who can just afford it.
Of course what a fixed-ish percentage hides a bit is the number growth – if HE participation has been growing “at the bottom” of the social-economics, a fixed-ish percentage means that more on equivalent incomes are paying upfront. In 2022/23, a record 54,700 entrants were marked up as “no award or financial backing”.
In the original £9,000 fees system, it made little sense to opt-out of student loans – because the vast majority never paid it back in full by design. But now with a cheaper (in real terms) tuition fee, a frozen repayment threshold and an extended term of 40 years, the calculation has changed – suddenly it makes much more sense to avoid the debt if you can.
And so given that paying for your younger relatives’ tuition fees represents a way of investing some of that inheritance in way that avoids inheritance tax, we’d have to assume that unchecked, not only will richer graduates in the loan scheme get a much better lifetime deal than they did a few years ago, more and more won’t be in the scheme at all.
(The green line is the system we had for most of the last decade – the grey line the system the Conservatives slipped past everyone on their way out).
Even if every penny of an inheritance was drained away on paying for HE upfront, if we compare two graduates – one with 40 years of graduate repayments ahead of them, and one without, it doesn’t take long to clock how impossible social mobility becomes for otherwise notionally equal graduates.
Then assume that those getting their fees and costs paid for them while they’re a student are clustered into the Russell Group and its signals already – and lay on top of that the fact that those without a windfall coming are more likely to be those with a pretty thin “student experience” and so without the skills or cultural capital to cheat the socio-economic odds, and you pretty quickly need to give up and go home.
The problem that that all leaves is pretty significant – partly because wealth inequality is already more stratified than income, partly because it drives the type and value of HE experience a student might have, and partly because HE participation has a much better track record at delivering salary gains and salary redistribution than it does at delivering wealth gains or wealth redistribution.
Put another way, it might be a rite of passage, and it might be good to have a better educated population, but without the prospect of it delivering social mobility, it will lose both real and symbolic value.
So in reverse order, what can be done? On the way out, if there must be a graduate contribution system, not only does it have to return to attempting to redistribute from the richest to the poorest, it has to do so by expecting a fair chunk of that boomer windfall to fund some redistribution.
An above inflation interest rate has to return – and upfront fee payers shouldn’t be able to just buy a better education for themselves, as they can in the US – they should be expected to contribute more into the pot for everyone’s benefit. Higher fees, but only for for upfront payers – DfE needs to dust off that consultation from the last decade, and fast.
During, we’ll need to redouble efforts to re-establish at least a notional run at the school uniform principle – carefully calibrating student income and experience to return to a baseline where everyone experiences something similar.
Some of that is about reducing the costs of participation rather than loaning more money to meet them, some is about defining a contemporary student experience so that those who need to work can do so with dignity while extracting educational value, and those that don’t are expected to. It’s also about a credit system that recognises the educational value of extracurricular activity – so that everyone has time to take part in it.
Then on the way in, we need more mixing – we do need Scenario 1 to return as a much tougher target.
As well as that, the clustering up the league tables as a way of avoiding harder questions about access in our elite institutions almost certainly needs to stop. Taken to its logical conclusion, in a couple of decades there will only be 24 universities left (and in the minds of the press and parents, we’re arguably already there) – but if Labour facilitates only 19 cities having students and graduates in them, both it and everywhere else is doomed.
Labour, in other words, has to start saying no:
Part of the balancing act to choking off clustering is one other thing that should matter to Labour. The scandal isn’t that applicant X can’t quite get into the Russell Group with 3 A*s. It’s that we still have a system that somehow writes off the student and the university they attend if they don’t.
Making it much more attractive to commute (coupled with a domestic Erasmus), talking up not just alternatives to university but universities that aren’t the Russell Group, abolishing the archaic degree classification system, ripping up all the quality systems that have singularly failed to “assure” the press and the public that quality can be found elsewhere, and forcing through some institutional subject specialisms (and obvious vocational excellence) within the system would all help.
Do all of that, and maybe one day, a senior figure in HE might be able to claim that mass higher education – and all the rich benefits it brings – both survived and thrived because it finally found a way to celebrate diversity rather than forever turning it into hierarchy.
In Spring 2023, 150 students from humanities and social sciences at our university stepped up to share something deeply personal -their reasons for pursuing higher education.
Through brief, heartfelt recorded monologues, they opened a window into what university truly means to them.
We ended up with nearly 160 pages of raw, unfiltered transcripts. Inspired by the power of verbatim theatre, where authentic dialogue bridges the gap between characters and audience, we have curated a collection of student voices.
These firsthand accounts cut through the cliches narratives often associated with university life. Instead, they reveal the real stories, struggles, and aspirations driving students forward in today’s complex world of higher education. This is their voice, their truth, shared directly with you.
From “screaming at the back of the car” and “crying tears of joy” to “relief” and “apprehension”, we got a glimpse into the rollercoaster of emotions students felt when they got their university acceptance letters.
For most, it was the first big decision of their adult lives, and it was not an easy one. One student said:
…going to university was the scariest and the best thing, the best decision, that I’ve made so far in my 19 years of existence.
Another felt the decision to enter higher education was made:
…not with trepidation as a reasonable person [but] with courage and self-assuredness that only ignorance and youth can bestow in such abundance.
Dealing with such conflicting emotions is rarely simple. So, it is not a surprise that some of the surveyed students thought about dropping out, especially in their first year. They found their degrees “boring” or “very difficult” or wondered “was the amount of work something I was prepared for?”
A recurring thread in many students’ reflections during this study was the dilemma between entering the workforce immediately or pursuing higher education. No doubt pursuing higher education is largely viewed as the “only option towards a better paying career” and a “comfortable job without a lot of physical demands”.
While some of them questioned whether university “is worth all the debt”, most agreed that the skills acquired through higher education are crucial for getting “further in life” and earning “more than the minimum wage”.
But their testimonies revealed other considerations that go beyond material gains and jobs prospects.
In our survey, students made it loud and clear – it is also about the love and passion for what they do. “Studying what I truly love”, “something I’d enjoy studying every single day of my life”, and chasing that “passion and interest to grow as a person” often took priority, leaving material gains or “just getting into a certain job” in the background.
Just working a job for working sake didn’t feel like a good use of my time.
Students, while contemplating their future, felt that:
…university does feel like a good safety net to hop into… [the] perfect avenue to give myself more options to explore different careers.
We also saw several students entering higher education determined to “dig, dig, dig [to find out their] passions”.
For some students, university felt like a “clear, logical” move toward their career goals. For others, it was more than a decision – they felt it was “compulsory” or even a personal “duty”.
There were also students who approached their university pursuits with less conviction.
I didn’t have anything else to do, so I ended up going to university.
I was not ready for the 9 to 5 life.
When else in my life would I be able to just decide to move away [from home] and receive funding from the government to help me?
Some expected higher education to create for them “a pathway towards finding some meaning in my life”. Others choose their university because its name was the same “as my great grandmother’s”.
As we see when it comes to university studies, students bring a whole mix of ambitions to the table. So, it is no surprise that choosing a subject or a university is a deeply personal issue influenced by several factors.
Among these, university rankings often emerged as a decisive factor. Many students associated high rankings with better career prospects, with one stating:
…it is a lot more important where the university stands in ranking over what degree you’re doing.
Another shared:
I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I hadn’t at least tried [to enter an Oxbridge institution]
…highlighting the importance for them of the prestige tied to certain universities. This sentiment was echoed by another student who observed:
…people were looked down on if they didn’t apply to Oxford and Cambridge.
However, it is worth noting that some students in our sample cautioned against making decisions based solely on rankings. They acknowledged that prioritising rankings over programme suitability can lead to dissatisfaction.
I realised that I can’t force myself to like a subject or excel in a subject that I don’t enjoy.
…one student reflected, emphasising the importance of choosing a programme aligned with personal interests and strengths. Others recognised that decisions “purely because of rankings,” without considering the nature of the programme, may result in regret, as students risk enrolling in courses they ultimately dislike.
Reading through the transcripts, it became clear that students do not make their choices in a vacuum. Instead, they are influenced by a network of factors, including family, friends, mentors, and the vast array of information available online. These influences collectively shape the way students see their future and guide their decisions.
Family, as expected, is a primary source of influence and will be discussed in detail in a separate section. Friends, however, also play a significant role. As one student shared:
…it feels like you are doing something big with your friends [from which you] didn’t want to be left out.
Mentors were another important factor. One student explained:
…before coming to university, I spoke to people who were in the positions that I wanted to be in,”
…highlighting the impact of role models on their decisions. Additionally, many students turned to platforms like YouTube for guidance. One student described their process, saying:
I watched so many videos… YouTube videos on people’s experiences in different towns from Manchester to London to Liverpool, to Bristol to Birmingham.
This underscores the significant role of online content in shaping their choices.
Surveyed students also highlighted factors such as facilities, location and the associated lifestyle as significant influences on their university decisions. One student remarked that it was more important studying in London than having a good university ranking.
Since all students surveyed for this project were studying at a London institution, their comments frequently referenced the “dynamic lifestyle” of London, described as “the place to be” where “everything is happening”.
For many, being in London was about more than academics. It was about the opportunity to “see new things […] and explore different cultures”, “take part in so many events”, live in a place which is “buzzing 24/7” where they can “randomly, spontaneously […] see Wicked”, reflecting the unique cultural vibrancy that London offers.
Prospective students were looking for everything that matters to them, and this highlights the importance of providing students with proper guidance to navigate wisely the labyrinth of educational choices.
Several students commented on the importance of universities’ open days. Initially perceived as an “excuse to have a day off school”, one student recounted that it was during an open day that university became a “real option” for them.
Surveyed students express enthusiasm for these events, describing them as the “first actual experience” and an opportunity to “envision my new life”. During these visits, they engaged with current students and staff, feeling “the passion within the department”.
More importantly, they feel heard. As one student remarked:
[I got the opportunity] to talk about things that interested me with someone that was interested in hearing my perspective.
University has given me the space to explore who I am as a person.
To these students, university was the bridge to adulthood. It was for them the place to find “freedom” and “independence” – two words frequently encountered in the transcripts of their recordings.
They leave home with some apprehension, that is true, but they embrace it. And they “love that element of university”, are “really excited for the independence that university promised”, and “do not regret it”. Many viewed university as the opportunity to “learn how to live life without living with your parents”. It is striking to see so many young people eager to learn
…important life skills such as cooking, cleaning, and shopping.
University has given me the space to explore who I am as a person.
Expressions such as “get out of my shell”, “without hiding in the closet”, and “without feeling scrutinised by my parents” frequently appeared in the monologues. Moving away to study at university provided a unique opportunity to embrace independence.
As one student put it, university offered the chance to “do what I wanted to do, how I wanted to do it, exactly when I wanted to do it”. Several of the students in this study deliberately chose universities far from home, often making these decisions “without telling my parents”.
For the young individuals in this study, university is seen as more than just an academic journey. It represents a transformative space for personal growth. It is described as a place to “grow as a person in terms of independence, but also experiences”.
Students also view university as a setting that provides the “freedom and encouragement to be myself, fully and unapologetically, both personally, professionally, and creatively”.
While friends, mentors, and lifestyle factors shape many aspects of students’ choices, family remains a key part of the narrative. From these monologues, we see its role as both inspiring and constraining.
Constraining in that students appear to enter higher education out of guilt or obligation to their families.
One student mentioned pursuing higher education studies due to “the cultural aspect and expectation within my family”, another to make “the family proud and happy despite not sharing the sentiment”, and another simply because it is “what my family wanted me to do anyway, so… I just end up doing it”.
The desire to enter higher education was coerced by a feeling that otherwise they would have “wasted everything that my parents have done for me”, and “disappoint them”, and that “would have been the worst thing”.
Prior academic attainment of family members was also sometimes perceived as limiting students’ choices. In terms of degree choice, students mentioned that families with a background in certain fields “wouldn’t agree with me exploring [other] degrees” and “I feel like my parents just don’t understand that there are opportunities outside of this field”.
Other students whose families had completed higher education claimed that their decision to join university was so that they would not be the “odd one out” or to prove that ”they are not dumb”, and that their intellectual ability reflects “somehow that of my family’s or my post-code’s”.
My mum always wanted me to have a lot more. More choice in my life and so university really allows me that.”
Family can also serve as a source of power and inspiration, fueling students’ academic journeys. Many said their family’s academic achievements and backgrounds inspired them to join university and choose specific subjects.
One student cited the “admiration” for their grandfather’s life and job as “primarily the reason” to choose their subject. Another passionately spoke of wanting to “follow my parents’ first steps”. Another enthusiastically praised their parent’s commitment “to spend whatever they have saved in their lives to afford what they think is important” for their children.
It was been fascinating to see what university meant for students whose family did not attend university. To them university was the opportunity to “take advantage of opportunities many of the members of my family didn’t have”, as “it was just seen as something unattainable for us of this economic class, race and learning difficulties”.
The dialogues shared within families hold immense power. In these intimate moments, life altering decisions often take shape. A student recalled their mother’s wisdom:
…university is not just about getting that qualification […] It’s personal worth. And once you have that education, no one can take it away from you.
Another reflected on the life-story of their mother, her unfinished studies, and the aspirations that span generations:
Oh child, you know when you graduate, it’s going to be like I’m graduating as well […] which I guess is true because the amount of support that I had from my mum and my family has been like insane.
I can go to university so I can get one step closer to my dreams.
For some of the students surveyed, university was more than a path to knowledge – it was a journey for recognition, a way to overcome societal barriers, and to “fulfil [their] dreams in life”.
One student said their studies will help them reach “the standing in society” they think they deserve, and will allow them “to be taken more seriously”. A student with a disability told us it is a means to “overcome low expectations that people in the society have for people like me”.
For this student, it is their “liberation mechanism” to “escape the oppression that I felt I was facing and move my life towards a more success-oriented trajectory”.
In their testimonies, students expressed dreams of becoming Supreme Court judges, CEOs, working in politics or international organisations. They acknowledged that without university education, as one student said,
…I just didn’t have the confidence to dream big
…I do feel proud when I say hey, I’m a [. . . ] student. It’s kind of nice when people are like, wow!
Reading the transcripts felt like tuning into the unfiltered thoughts of students standing at the crossroads of their academic and professional lives. Their stories form a vivid tapestry of dreams, ambitions, and doubts about joining university each one unique, each one unfiltered.
Our aim was not to evaluate their motivations or rank the importance of the influences they shared with us. Instead, we gave space for their voices to be heard. Because listening to these stories matters.
It reveals the beautiful complexity behind their decisions and helps us understand them better. And perhaps, it will inspire us to create a learning environment that truly supports them, one that meets them where they are and helps them get where they are going.
We would like to thank Lyubomir Vasilev for valuable research assistance and helpful comments and discussion. Financial support for this project was provided by the Queen Mary University of London’s Westfield Fund for Enhancing the Student Experience. Authors: Dr. Emmanouil Noikokyris, Reader in Economics and Finance Education, School of Economics and Finance, Queen Mary University of London; Emanuela Nova, Strategic Project Manager, School of Economics and Finance, Queen Mary University of London
In a groundbreaking achievement that marks a significant milestone for historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs), Howard University has become the first
The announcement from the American Council of Education (ACE) on Thursday, recognizes Howard’s designation as an institution of “very high research spending and doctorate production,” a status that fewer than 150 universities nationwide have achieved. This accomplishment not only highlights Howard’s commitment to academic excellence but also represents a historic moment in the evolution of HBCUs in American higher education.
According to ACE’s stringent criteria, universities must demonstrate exceptional research capabilities through substantial financial investment and doctoral program success. The minimum requirements include at least $50 million in annual research spending and the production of at least 70 research doctorates. Howard University has significantly surpassed these thresholds, showcasing its commitment to advancing knowledge and fostering innovation.
Dr. Bruce A. Jones, Howard University’s senior vice president for research, provided specific details about the university’s achievements. “In Fiscal Year 2023, the most recent evaluation year in the classification cycle, the University’s productivity was significantly higher than the R1 base criteria, recording just under $85 million in research expenditures and awarding 96 doctorates in an array of fields,” Jones said. “This includes the highest number of doctorates awarded to Black students at any college or university in America.”
The impact of such a designation has broader implications beyond Howard, said Dr. Robert T. Palmer, chair and professor in the Department of Educational Leadership and Policy Studies at the university.
“Howard reaching R1 status is phenomenal. This status will help Howard to attract more highly competitive research grants and talented faculty and students,” said Palmer, who added that the university’s status as an R1 will also help to position itself as a premier institution “and help to amplify the great work being done by faculty, staff, and students, alumni”
Palmer noted that there are other HBCUs, including his alma mater, Morgan State University that is currently seeking R1 status.
“It would be great for HBCUs seeking R1 status to form a coalition and work collectively to support each other towards this goal,” he added.
University President Dr. Ben Vinson III emphasized the broader implications of this achievement for both Howard and the communities it serves.
“Howard University’s achievement of R1 status demonstrates our research capacity and reaffirms our deep commitment to tackling society’s most pressing questions through cutting-edge scholarship and technological innovation,” Vinson said. “As a leader in the evolution of next generation HBCUs, we are dedicated to ensuring that the benefits of discovery and progress reach all communities, including those historically overlooked and underrepresented.”
Vinson noted that the university’s research portfolio showcases its comprehensive approach to addressing critical societal challenges. For example, Howard hosts one of only fifteen U.S. Department of Defense University Affiliated Research Centers (UARC) in the nation, focusing on tactical autonomy, human-machine teaming, and artificial intelligence through its Research Institute for Tactical Autonomy.
In the medical field, Howard’s pioneering spirit is evident in its Center for Sickle Cell Disease, which was the first center in the nation devoted to studying and treating the disease. The university’s Cancer Center holds the distinction of being the only such facility at an HBCU providing comprehensive cancer treatment services while training future oncology professionals and researchers.
The university’s commitment to preserving and studying Black history and culture is exemplified by the Moorland-Spingarn Research Center, which stands as the nation’s largest and most comprehensive repository of materials on the global Black experience. Additionally, Howard’s Center for African Studies holds the unique position of being the only comprehensive National Resource Center at an HBCU, as designated by the U.S. Department of Education.
Higher education experts point out that Howard’s R1 designation represents not just an achievement for Howard University but a significant advancement for the entire HBCU community, potentially paving the way for other institutions to follow. As Howard continues to expand its research capabilities and influence, its impact on American higher education and scientific advancement promises to grow even stronger.
“I think it’s incredibly exciting that Howard University — a powerhouse for decades in research — is being recognized as a Research 1 institution,” said Dr. Marybeth Gasman, who is the Samuel DeWitt Proctor Endowed Chair in Education and University Distinguished Professor at Rutgers University. An expert on HBCUs, Gasman added that the important research contributions across disciplines at Howard have significantly impacted students, communities (regional, national, and international), and leaders.
“I’m excited to see what the institution does to build on this recognition as it progresses,” she said. “As a Research 1, it will be vital to ensure that all tenure-track faculty are supported through reduced course loads (4 courses a year max), research start-up funds across the disciplines, ample conference travel funding, and that Ph.D. students are supported with fully funded fellowships and assistantships.”
University rankings are pretty much everywhere. Though the earliest university rankings in the U. S. date back to the early 1900s and the modern ones from the 1983 debut of the U. S. News and World Report rankings. The kind of rankings we tend to talk about now, international or global rankings, really only date back to 2003 with the creation of the Shanghai Academic Rankings of World Universities.
Over the decade that followed that first publication, a triumvirate emerged at the top of the rankings pyramid. The Shanghai Rankings, run by a group of academics at the Shanghai Jiao Tong University, the Quacquarelli Symonds, or QS Rankings, and the Times Higher Education’s World University Rankings. Between them, these three rankings producers, particularly QS and Times Higher, created a bewildering array of new rankings, dividing the world up by geography and field of study, mainly based on metrics relating to research.
Joining me today is the former Chief Data Officer of the Times Higher Education Rankings, Duncan Ross. He took over those rankings at a time when it seemed like the higher education world might be running out of things to rank. Under his tutelage, though, the Times Impact Rankings, which are based around the 17 UN Sustainable Development Goals, were developed. And that’s created a genuinely new hierarchy in world higher education, at least among those institutions who choose to submit to the rankings.
My discussion with Duncan today covers a wide range of topics related to his time at THE. But the most enjoyable bit by far, for me anything, was the bit about the genesis of the impact rankings. Listen a bit, especially when Duncan talks about how the Impact Rankings came about because the THE realized that its industry rankings weren’t very reliable. Fun fact, around that time I got into a very public debate with Phil Beatty, the editor of the Times Higher, on exactly that subject. Which means maybe, just maybe, I’m kind of a godparent to the impact rankings. But that’s just me. You may well find other points of interest in this very compelling interview. Let’s hand things over to Duncan.
The World of Higher Education Podcast
Episode 3.20 | Data, Decisions, and Disruptions: Inside the World of University Rankings
Alex Usher: So, Duncan, let’s start at the beginning. I’m curious—what got you into university rankings in the first place? How did you end up at Times Higher Education in 2015?
Duncan Ross: I think it was almost by chance. I had been working in the tech sector for a large data warehousing company, which meant I was working across many industries—almost every industry except higher education. I was looking for a new challenge, something completely different. Then a friend approached me and mentioned a role that might interest me. So I started talking to Times Higher Education, and it turned out it really was a great fit.
Alex Usher: So when you arrived at Times Higher in 2015, the company already had a pretty full set of rankings products, right? They had the global rankings, the regional rankings, which I think started around 2010, and then the subject or field of study rankings came a couple of years later. When you looked at all of that, what did you think? What did you feel needed to be improved?
Duncan Ross: Well, the first thing I had to do was actually bring all of that production in-house. At the time, even though Times Higher had rankings, they were produced by Clarivate—well, Thomson Reuters, as it was then. They were doing a perfectly good job, but if you’re not in control of the data yourself, there’s a limit to what you can do with it.
Another key issue was that, while it looked like Times Higher had many rankings, in reality, they had just one: the World University Rankings. The other rankings were simply different cuts of that same data. And even within the World University Rankings, only 400 universities were included, with a strong bias toward Europe and North America. About 26 or 27 percent of those institutions were from the U.S., which didn’t truly reflect the global landscape of higher education.
So the challenge was: how could we broaden our scope and truly capture the world of higher education beyond the usual suspects? And beyond that, were there other aspects of universities that we could measure, rather than just relying on research-centered metrics? There are good reasons why international rankings tend to focus on research—it’s the most consistent data available—but as you know, it’s certainly not the only way to define excellence in higher education.
Alex Usher: Oh, yeah. So how did you address the issue of geographic diversity? Was it as simple as saying, “We’re not going to limit it to 400 universities—we’re going to expand it”? I think the ranking now includes over a thousand institutions, right? I’ve forgotten the exact number.
Duncan Ross: It’s actually around 2,100 or so, and in practice, the number is even larger because, about two years ago, we introduced the concept of reporter institutions. These are institutions that haven’t yet met the criteria to be fully ranked but are already providing data.
The World University Rankings have an artificial limit because there’s a threshold for participation based on the number of research articles published. That threshold is set at 1,000 papers over a five-year period. If we look at how many universities could potentially meet that criterion, it’s probably around 3,000, and that number keeps growing. But even that is just a fraction of the higher education institutions worldwide. There are likely 30,000—maybe even 40,000—higher education institutions globally, and that’s before we even consider community colleges.
So, expanding the rankings was about removing artificial boundaries. We needed to reach out to institutions in parts of the world that weren’t well represented and think about higher education in a way that wasn’t so Anglo-centric.
One of the biggest challenges I’ve encountered—and it’s something people inevitably fall into—is that we tend to view higher education through the lens of our own experiences. But higher education doesn’t function the same way everywhere. It’s easy to assume that all universities should look like those in Canada, the U.S., or the UK—but that’s simply not the case.
To improve the rankings, we had to be open-minded, engage with institutions globally, and carefully navigate the challenges of collecting data on such a large scale. As a result, Times Higher Education now has data on around 5,000 to 6,000 universities—a huge step up from the original 400. Still, it’s just a fraction of the institutions that exist worldwide.
Alex Usher: Well, that’s exactly the mission of this podcast—to get people to think beyond an Anglo-centric view of the world. So I take your point that, in your first couple of years at Times Higher Education, most of what you were doing was working with a single set of data and slicing it in different ways.
But even with that, collecting data for rankings isn’t simple, right? It’s tricky, you have to make a lot of decisions, especially about inclusion—what to include and how to weight different factors. And I think you’ve had to deal with a couple of major issues over the years—one in your first few years and another more recently.
One was about fractional counting of articles, which I remember went on for quite a while. There was that big surge of CERN-related articles, mostly coming out of Switzerland but with thousands of authors from around the world, which affected the weighting. That led to a move toward fractional weighting, which in theory equalized things a bit—but not everyone agreed.
More recently, you’ve had an issue with voting, right? What I think was called a cartel of voters in the Middle East, related to the reputation rankings. Can you talk a bit about how you handle these kinds of challenges?
Duncan Ross: Well, I think the starting point is that we’re always trying to evaluate things in a fair and consistent way. But inevitably, we’re dealing with a very noisy and messy world.
The two cases you mentioned are actually quite different. One is about adjusting to the norms of the higher education sector, particularly in publishing. A lot of academics, especially those working within a single discipline, assume that publishing works the same way across all fields—that you can create a universal set of rules that apply to everyone. But that’s simply not the case.
For example, the concept of a first author doesn’t exist in every discipline. Likewise, in some fields, the principal investigator (PI) is always listed at the end of the author list, while in others, that’s not the norm.
One of the biggest challenges we faced was in fields dealing with big science—large-scale research projects involving hundreds or even thousands of contributors. In high-energy physics, for example, a decision was made back in the 1920s: everyone who participates in an experiment above a certain threshold is listed as an author in alphabetical order. They even have a committee to determine who meets that threshold—because, of course, it’s academia, so there has to be a committee.
But when you have 5,000 authors on a single paper, that distorts the rankings. So we had to develop a mechanism to handle that. Ideally, we’d have a single metric that works in all cases—just like in physics, where we don’t use one model of gravity in some situations and a different one in others. But sometimes, you have to make exceptions. Now, Times Higher Education is moving toward more sophisticated bibliometric measures to address these challenges in a better way.
The second issue you mentioned—the voting behavior in reputation rankings—is completely different because it involves inappropriate behavior. And this kind of issue isn’t just institutional; sometimes, it’s at the individual academic level.
We’re seeing this in publishing as well, where some academics are somehow producing over 200 articles a year. Impressive productivity, sure—but is it actually viable? In cases like this, the approach has to be different. It’s about identifying and penalizing misbehavior.
At the same time, we don’t want to be judge and jury. It’s difficult because, often, we can see statistical patterns that strongly suggest something is happening, but we don’t always have a smoking gun. So our goal is always to be as fair and equitable as possible while putting safeguards in place to maintain the integrity of the rankings.
Alex Usher: Duncan, you hinted at this earlier, but I want to turn now to the Impact Rankings. This was the big initiative you introduced at Times Higher Education. Tell us about the genesis of those rankings—where did the idea come from? Why focus on impact? And why the SDGs?
Duncan Ross: It actually didn’t start out as a sustainability-focused project. The idea came from my colleague, Phil Baty, who had always been concerned that the World University Rankings didn’t include enough measurement around technology transfer.
So, we set out to collect data from universities on that—looking at things like income from consultancy and university spin-offs. But when the data came back, it was a complete mess—totally inconsistent and fundamentally unusable. So, I had to go back to the drawing board.
That’s when I came across SDG 9—Industry, Innovation, and Infrastructure. I looked at it and thought, This is interesting. It was compelling because it provided an external framework.
One of the challenges with ranking models is that people always question them—Is this really a good model for excellence? But with an external framework like the SDGs, if someone challenges it, I can just point to the United Nations and say, Take it up with them.
At that point, I had done some data science work and was familiar with the tank problem, so I jokingly assumed there were probably 13 to 18 SDGs out there. (That’s a data science joke—those don’t land well 99% of the time.) But as it turned out, there were more SDGs, and exploring them was a real light bulb moment.
The SDGs provided a powerful framework for understanding the most positive role universities can play in the world today. We all know—well, at least those of us outside the U.S. know—that we’re facing a climate catastrophe. Higher education has a crucial role to play in addressing it.
So, the question became: How can we support that? How can we measure it? How can we encourage better behavior in this incredibly important sector?
Alex Usher: The Impact Rankings are very different in that roughly half of the indicators—about 240 to 250 across all 17 SDGs—aren’t naturally quantifiable. Instead, they’re based on stories.
For example, an institution might submit, This is how we combat organized crime or This is how we ensure our food sourcing is organic. These responses are scored based on institutional submissions.
Now, I don’t know exactly how Times Higher Education evaluates them, but there has to be a system in place. How do you ensure that these institutional answers—maybe 120 to 130 per institution at most—are scored fairly and consistently when you’re dealing with hundreds of institutions?
Duncan Ross: Well, I can tell you that this year, over 2,500 institutions submitted approved data—so it’s grown significantly. One thing to clarify, though, is that these aren’t written-up reports like the UK’s Teaching Excellence Framework, where universities can submit an essay justifying why they didn’t score as well as expected—what I like to call the dog ate my student statistics paper excuse. Instead, we ask for evidence of the work institutions have done. That evidence can take different forms—sometimes policies, sometimes procedures, sometimes concrete examples of their initiatives. The scoring process itself is relatively straightforward. First, we give some credit if an institution says they’re doing something. Then, we assess the evidence they provide to determine whether it actually supports their claim. But the third and most important part is that institutions receive extra credit if the evidence is publicly available. If you publish your policies or reports, you open yourself up to scrutiny, which adds accountability.
A great example is SDG 5—Gender Equality—specifically around gender pay equity. If an institution claims to have a policy on gender pay equity, we check: Do you publish it? If so, and you’re not actually living up to it, I’d hope—and expect—that women within the institution will challenge you on it. That’s part of the balancing mechanism in this process.
Now, how do we evaluate all this? Until this year, we relied on a team of assessors. We brought in people, trained them, supported them with our regular staff, and implemented a layer of checks—such as cross-referencing responses against previous years. Ultimately, human assessors were making the decisions.
This year, as you might expect, we’re introducing AI to assist with the process. AI helps us filter out straightforward cases, leaving the more complex ones for human assessors. It also ensures that we don’t run into assessor fatigue. When someone has reviewed 15 different answers to the same question from various universities, the process can get a bit tedious—AI helps mitigate that.
Alex Usher: Yeah, it’s like that experiment with Israeli judges, right? You don’t want to be the last case before lunch—you get a much harsher sentence if the judge is making decisions on an empty stomach. I imagine you must have similar issues to deal with in rankings.
I’ve been really impressed by how enthusiastically institutions have embraced the Impact Rankings. Canadian universities, in particular, have really taken to them. I think we had four of the top ten last year and three of the top ten this year, which is rare for us. But the uptake hasn’t been as strong—at least not yet—in China or the United States, which are arguably the two biggest national players in research-based university rankings. Maybe that’s changing this year, but why do you think the reception has been so different in different parts of the world? And what does that say about how different regions view the purpose of universities?
Duncan Ross: I think there’s definitely a case that different countries and regions have different approaches to the SDGs. In China, as you might expect, interest in the rankings depends on how well they align with current Communist Party priorities. You could argue that something similar happens in the U.S. The incoming administration has made it fairly clear that SDG 10 (Reduced Inequalities) and SDG 5 (Gender Equality) are not going to be top priorities—probably not SDG 1 (No Poverty), either. So in some cases, a country’s level of engagement reflects its political landscape.
But sometimes, it also reflects the economic structure of the higher education system itself. In the U.S., where universities rely heavily on high tuition fees, rankings are all about attracting students. And the dominant ranking in that market is U.S. News & World Report—the 600-pound gorilla. If I were in their position, I’d focus on that, too, because it’s the ranking that brings in applications.
In other parts of the world, though, rankings serve a different purpose. This ties back to our earlier discussion about different priorities in different regions. Take Indonesia, for example. There are over 4,000 universities in the country. If you’re an institution like ITS (Institut Teknologi Sepuluh Nopember), how do you stand out? How do you show that you’re different from other universities?
For them, the Impact Rankings provided an opportunity to showcase the important work they’re doing—work that might not have been recognized in traditional rankings. And that’s something I’m particularly proud of with the Impact Rankings. Unlike the World University Rankings or the Teaching Rankings, it’s not just the usual suspects at the top.
One of my favorite examples is Western Sydney University. It’s a fantastic institution. If you’re ever in Sydney, take the train out there. Stay on the train—it’s a long way from the city center—but go visit them. Look at the incredible work they’re doing, not just in sustainability but also in their engagement with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities. They’re making a real impact, and I’m so pleased that we’ve been able to raise the profile of institutions like Western Sydney—universities that might not otherwise get the recognition they truly deserve.
Alex Usher: But you’re still left with the problem that many institutions that do really well in research rankings have, in effect, boycotted the Impact Rankings—simply because they’re not guaranteed to come first.
A lot of them seem to take the attitude of, Why would I participate in a ranking if I don’t know I’ll be at the top?
I know you initially faced that issue with LERU (the League of European Research Universities), and I guess the U.S. is still a challenge, with lower participation numbers.
Do you think Times Higher Education will eventually crack that? It’s a tough nut to crack. I mean, even the OECD ran into the same resistance—it was the same people saying, Rankings are terrible, and we don’t want better ones.
What’s your take on that?
Duncan Ross: Well, I’ve got a brief anecdote about this whole rankings boycott approach. There’s one university—I’m not going to name them—that made a very public statement about withdrawing from the Times Higher Education World University Rankings. And just to be clear, that’s something you can do, because participation is voluntary—not all rankings are. So, they made this big announcement about pulling out. Then, about a month later, we got an email from their graduate studies department asking, Can we get a copy of your rankings? We use them to evaluate applicants for interviews. So, there’s definitely some odd thinking at play here. But when it comes to the Impact Rankings, I’m pretty relaxed about it. Sure, it would be nice to have Oxford or Harvard participate—but MIT does, and they’re a reasonably good school, I hear. Spiderman applied there, so it’s got to be decent. The way I see it, the so-called top universities already have plenty of rankings they can focus on. If we say there are 300 top universities in the world, what about the other 36,000 institutions?
Alex Usher: I just want to end on a slightly different note. While doing some background research for this interview, I came across your involvement in DataKind—a data charity that, if I understand correctly, you founded. I’ve never heard of a data charity before, and I find the idea fascinating—intriguing enough that I’m even thinking about starting one here. Tell us about DataKind—what does it do?
Duncan Ross: Thank you! So, DataKind was actually founded in the U.S. by Jake Porway. I first came across it at one of the early big data conferences—O’Reilly’s Strata Conference in New York. Jake was talking about how data could be used for good, and at the time, I had been involved in leadership roles at several UK charities. It was a light bulb moment. I went up to Jake and said, Let me start a UK equivalent! At first, he was noncommittal—he said, Yeah, sure… someday. But I just kept nagging him until eventually, he gave in and said yes. Together with an amazing group of people in the UK—Fran Bennett, Caitlin Thaney, and Stuart Townsend—we set up DataKind UK.
The concept is simple: we often talk about how businesses—whether in telecom, retail, or finance—use data to operate more effectively. The same is true in the nonprofit sector. The difference is that banks can afford to hire data scientists—charities often can’t. So, DataKind was created to connect data scientists with nonprofit organizations, allowing them to volunteer their skills.
Of course, for this to work, a charity needs a few things:
Over the years, DataKind—both in the U.S. and worldwide—has done incredible work. We’ve helped nonprofits understand what their data is telling them, improve their use of resources, and ultimately, do more for the communities they serve. I stepped down from DataKind UK in 2020 because I believe that the true test of something successful is whether it can continue to thrive without you. And I’m happy to say it’s still going strong. I kind of hope the Impact Rankings continue to thrive at Times Higher Education now that I’ve moved on as well.
Alex Usher: Yeah. Well, thank you for joining us today, Duncan.
Duncan Ross: It’s been a pleasure.
And it just remains for me to thank our excellent producers, Sam Pufek and Tiffany MacLennan. And you, our viewers, listeners, and readers for joining us today. If you have any questions or comments about today’s episode, please don’t hesitate to get in touch with us at [email protected]. Worried about missing an episode of the World of Higher Education? There’s a solution for that. Go to our YouTube page and subscribe. Next week, our guest will be Jim Dickinson. He’s an associate editor at Wonkhe in the UK, and he’s also maybe the world expert on comparative student politics. And he joins us to talk about the events in Serbia where the student movement is challenging the populist government of the day. Bye for now.
*This podcast transcript was generated using an AI transcription service with limited editing. Please forgive any errors made through this service.
New data from UCAS shows the number of 18 year old applications to undergraduate courses for autumn 2025 continues to climb, including from young people from disadvantaged backgrounds.
The slight dip in the rate of applications can be explained in part by changes around how students engage with the application cycle. Year-on-year we see decision making happening later in the admissions cycle. There is a clear disconnect between the discourse around universities and the demand for them, where the long-term trend is up.
Universities have long been used as political currency, despite being a core part of young people’s aspirations in the UK. It is not uncommon to hear influential politicians and commentators argue against the value of a degree, even though they generally have degrees themselves. If the government has its sights set on sparking economic growth and creating opportunity across society, encouraging more people to go to university is the answer, with jobs requiring higher education expected to see the most growth in the next ten years, according to analysis from Skills England.
There has been a tremendous amount of progress in helping people from a wider range of backgrounds go to university in recent years, and this is reflected in new UCAS data. Applications from young people from areas with low participation in higher education is at its highest level in recent years. Not only does this afford thousands more young people opportunities that they might never otherwise have had, it also has huge economic benefits for them, and their communities.
However, there is much further to go. You are still about twice as likely to go to university if you are from the most affluent backgrounds, compared to the least affluent. This can’t be right, particularly as the data shows that the benefits of university are especially strong for people from disadvantaged backgrounds.
Graduates who received free school meals earlier in life get a big earnings boost by going to university. On average, they’ll earn over a third more than non-graduates from the same background by the age of 31. And the benefits go beyond salary – universities play an important role in tackling economic inactivity and unemployment, one of the government’s key battles. Overall, graduates are far less likely to be claiming benefits, nearly three times less likely to be economically inactive, and over one and a half times more likely to be employed than non-graduates.
The data shows that there is still a great deal of progress to be made in closing the regional participation gap. In London, 58 per cent of 18-year-olds applied to university; in the North East this was only 32 per cent. In Wales, the participation rate has been going backwards. This is a huge missed opportunity for the nation.
If the government were to work with universities, colleges and schools to ensure all young people have the same educational opportunities, we’d see more people in work and more people able to adapt as the labour market changes around them, earning higher wages and filling the jobs being created in exciting new sectors of the economy.
And, given that graduates are statistically more likely to enjoy better health, we’d probably have a healthier population too. In the UK we’re lucky to have exceptional universities in every region of the UK, and producing and attracting more graduates to these areas could significantly boost regional productivity.
That’s not to say that everyone should want to, or needs to go to university to have a successful career or spark regional growth, but graduates’ skills make a vital contribution to local economies. Regions with high numbers of graduates perform better economically, and these benefits spillover to non-graduates. All eight growth-driving sectors identified by the government, including clean energy and the creative industries, are dependent on a bigger supply of graduates to expand. Last year, these industries reported having a 50 per cent higher proportion of graduates than in the UK workforce as a whole.
For the many young people who don’t know exactly what they want to do in life, going to university can be the difference between gaining skills and experience that will set them up for life or falling into economic inactivity. Despite what a great deal of headlines will tell you, universities are essential to young people’s prospects in this country, and the new application data shows that young people feel this too.
As well as the huge economic benefits for wider society, university has huge appeal for individuals. It’s an opportunity to gain career skills, immerse yourself in a subject you enjoy and meet lifelong friends. And above all, thanks to the UK’s diverse offering of institutions and courses, including academic and vocational styles, it’s a realistic goal for most people. Perhaps, in a world where young people are being increasingly discouraged about the future ahead, university represents something more optimistic, and that’s why they continue to want to go there.
Walden University President Michael Betz has sold $380,000 worth of Adtalem shares. Walden is one of America’s largest robocolleges, proving online education to tens of thousands of folks in psychology, social work, nursing, education, business, and criminal justice each year.
Adtalem, formerly known as DeVry Education, is Walden’s parent company. Adtalem also owns the Chamberlain College of Nursing and medical schools in the Carribean. Walden and Adtalem have been profitable despite mediocre results for worker/consumers, a disproportionate number are women and people of color.
TSU’s financial troubles are steep and immediate. An FAQ page on the university’s website acknowledges that the financial condition has reached crisis levels stemming from missed enrollment targets and operating deficits. This fall, the university posted a projected deficit of $46 million by the end of the fiscal year.
The university identified inefficient processes in financial aid, advising and enrollment systems, that contributed to its woes. It also said those problems were exacerbated by 2024’s messy federal rollout of the Free Application for Federal Student Aid.
Additionally, and perhaps most damaging, the university launched a full scholarship program for some students without a plan to fund it throughout students’ journey to graduation. It paid $37 million toward the scholarship in fiscal 2022 using federal pandemic emergency funds. When that money ran dry, TSU had to issue tens of millions of dollars in institutional financial aid, causing it to heavily discount its tuition.
The scholarship helped attract students, with fall enrollment hitting 8,198 students in 2023, compared to 7,774 in 2018. But the university couldn’t ultimately afford to maintain those aid levels.
Taking aim at the university’s management, Tennessee lawmakers last March passed a Republican-led bill to replace all of the university’s trustees and restructure its board, over the objection of Democrats.
Emergency state funding last fall kept the institution operating, but Tucker said TSU will need more to not just turn around — but to stay open.
“It’s a fact that we can’t pay our bills,” Tucker said, noting also that the university would likely not be open today without state help.
But Tennessee also owes TSU money, according to a federal assessment.
In a letter to Tennessee Gov. Bill Lee in 2023, then-U.S. Education Secretary Miguel Cardona and U.S. Agriculture Secretary Tom Vilsack said the institution had been hurt by “longstanding and ongoing underinvestment” as a public land-grant HBCU. By their estimate, inequitable funding gaps led Tennessee State to miss out on $2.1 billion over 30 years.
Tucker dismissed the idea of suing the state for the $2.1 billion, arguing that the legal process could take years — while the university’s financial needs are immediate. Legal action could also potentially anger the legislators whose support TSU needs to help provide funding. Moreover, the institution could lose a legal challenge, he added.
Tucker — the university’s second interim president in less than a year — argued for focusing instead on the state funding gap identified by the Legislature in 2021. That gap amounts to over $540 million.
Since identifying the amount, Tennessee lawmakers lined up a one-time $250 million sum for the university to invest in infrastructure. Tucker said the university could use a portion of those funds to keep it afloat through the first year of a five-year plan.
Along with state help, TSU and its board are considering financial exigency, a restructuring process that allows an institution experiencing budgetary distress to lay off tenured faculty and shut down academic programs.
In a special meeting of TSU’s board on Jan. 31, a consultant with the National Association of College and University Business Officers presented a detailed workshop on how exigency works.
Tucker said Tuesday that officials were considering exigency but that it wasn’t in the university’s immediate plans.
Browsing in a good bookshop sure beats scouring the internet for things to read. And when I was recently in my local independent bookshop (the Book House in Thame since you ask), I stumbled across a new biography of Donald Trump focusing on his pre-politics business career. Seeing that the book, Lucky Loser: How Donald Trump squandered his father’s fortune and created the illusion of success by Russ Buettner and Susanne Craig, included a section on Trump University, I snapped it up.
Every leader’s weaknesses are clear before they rise to power if you look in the right places. We knew Gordon Brown’s seriousness could merge into tantrums long before the revelations about throwing phones at staff came to light, and we knew Boris Johnson’s joie de vivre hampered an eye for detail long before he caught the ball ‘from the back of the scrum’ and entered Number 10. If Nigel Farage ever makes it to the top job, as ever more people seem to be predicting, no one will be able to claim his destructive approach to politics was previously hidden.
Similarly, this new biography of Trump written by two New York Times journalists proves the US President’s weaknesses were evident beneath the bluster throughout his long business career in hotels, casinos and golf courses. If the authors are right, Trump has long been prone to taking big risks on a hunch, to acting litigiously and to seeking credit for things that aren’t his doing. The title suggests he was a Lucky Loser, though perhaps that is just an uncharitable way of saying he was a big winner against the odds.
As a businessman, the book shows how Trump began lucky, with ‘the equivalent of half a billion dollars from his father’, and ended lucky, with ‘another half billion as a reality television star’. These allowed him to take on huge debts, aided by paying as little tax as possible and reclaiming what tax he had paid whenever he could (as during Obama’s Great Recession recovery programme).
Trump’s dollars from the TV show ‘The Apprentice’ came not so much from appearance fees as from his right to half the profits from any sponsorship deals and from lending his name to all sorts of businesses attracted by his TV success, from health supplements to early video phones. These enabled him to keep afloat. But there were many lows to Trump’s business career and a number of his big projects declared bankruptcy in the 1990s and 2000s, leading the two authors to conclude, ‘He would have been better off betting on the stock market than on himself.’
If there’s one person responsible for Trump’s rise to the top, it is Mark Burnett, a British Falklands veteran who is now the United States Special Envoy to the UK. Burnett invented the TV programme ‘Survivor’ before creating an urban equivalent in The Apprentice (and later also creating ‘The Voice’). And if there’s one thing responsible for Trump’s rise it seems to be vanilla-and-mint Crest toothpaste as Proctor & Gamble were the first mass consumer company to do serious sponsorship of The Apprentice. They paid $1.1 million to get the contestants to come up with a new toothpaste, thereby drawing attention to the actual new vanilla-and-mint product sitting on shop shelves.
Ostensibly, this all has little to do with higher education. But Trump University (also known as Trump U) is one of the most notable of all the current US President’s past projects and one of the ventures undertaken just before he stood for the Presidency for the first time. Trump not only lent his name to the project, he also invested millions of dollars in return for 93% of the business –like Victor Kiam, he liked it so much he bought the company. But the authors of this book conclude the whole thing was a disaster from start to finish.
Beginning as a way to sell recorded lectures to small and medium-sized businesses, Trump University quickly moved into get-rich-quick in-person seminars. The Trump Elite Gold programme had a fee of $34,995 (about the same as the entire cost of a three-year degree in England or Wales). Prospective learners were told, ‘There are three groups of people … People who make things happen; people who wait for things to happen; and people who wonder, “What happened?”’ If you wanted to be in the first group, you were encouraged to open your wallet or else borrow the necessary fee.
One failed applicant for The Apprentice, Stephen Gilpin, found himself tapped up to work for Trump U but later wrote an exposé that claimed, ‘the focus for Trump University was purely on separating suckers from their money.’ At the time, Trump said he hand-picked the instructors, but he did no such thing. The whole venture ended up in three major lawsuits, which were settled just as Trump became President for the first time.
In the end, the story of Trump University confirms a truism: it is vital to protect the use of the term ‘University’ and to police it actively and in real time. The book serves as a reminder that – as Jo Johnson has argued persuasively on the HEPI blog – pausing new awards for University Title means the Office for Students is giving less attention to this area than it should.
It is ironic that the global leader of right-wing populism should not only have sought to establish his own ‘University’ but that, having done so, it should embody in such exaggerated form all the negatives that populists tend to ascribe to traditional universities: poor value for money; an unoriginal curriculum taught by ill-trained staff; and insufficient personal attention to students. However, if a new book being published today attacking UK and US universities, Bad Education: Why our universities are broken and how we can fix them by Matt Goodwin, is any guide to populism more generally, then the failure of Trump U has not deterred the attacks on places that actually do have the legal right to call themselves a ‘University’.
Goodwin starts with a chapter called ‘Why I decided to speak out’ though it could just have easily been called ‘The grass is always greener’ or ‘Looking back with rose-tinted spectacles’. The book’s core argument is that:
the rapid expansion of the university bureaucracy, the sharp shift to the left among university academics and the politicization of the wider system of higher education have left universities in a perilous state.
As a result, Goodwin argues, ‘our universities are not just letting down but betraying an entire generation of students.’
He notes that, as the number of EDI (Equality, Diversity, and Inclusion) champions has gone up, some types of diversity, such as diversity in academic thought, have gone down. But Goodwin is a political scientist rather than a historian and the problems he identifies are not as new as he makes out. Far-left students used to disrupt Enoch Powell, Keith Joseph and Leon Brittan when they spoke on campus; now they try and block Helen Joyce, Kathleen Stock and Jo Phoenix. The issue of whether such individuals should be allowed to speak even if some people on campus will be ‘offended’ are the same. The recourse to legislation in response is the same too: the rows of the 1980s led to the Education (No. 2) Act (1986) and the rows of today led to the Higher Education (Freedom of Speech) Act (2023).
Notably, Goodwin’s views seem to have changed even more over time than the institutions he criticises. Two decades ago, Goodwin was a progressive studying for a PhD under Professor Roger Eatwell, an expert in fascism and populism at the University of Bath, after which he moved to Manchester and Nottingham, where he worked with political scientists like Rob Ford and Philip Cowley, and thereafter to Kent. These days, Goodwin has not only given up his professorship but is found speaking at Reform UK meetings while accepting a job as a GB News presenter.
And while Goodwin says his book has been 20 years in the making, it reads like it was 20 weeks in the writing. That is not meant to be rude for the piece is pacey, personal and polemical – and all the more readable for that. But while it is based in part on others’ research – including pieces of HEPI output – it generally draws from just one well: the place inhabited by Eric Kaufman, Jonathan Haidt and Niall Ferguson. The dust jacket includes endorsements from Douglas Murray, Claire Fox and Nigel Biggar among others.
Goodwin’s pamphleteer-style of writing ensures his text has little in common with the meticulous research on recent university history by Mike Shattock or Roger Brown and Helen Carasso or Steve Jones (who will be writing his own review of the book for HEPI in due course). Nonetheless, whisper it quietly but – whether you like his general approach or not, whether you like his new acquaintances or not and whether you like his writing style or not – Matt Goodwin may have something of a point.
Universities do not always welcome or reflect the full diversity of viewpoints in the way that perhaps they should, given their business is generating and imparting knowledge. It has been said many times before by others, so it is far from original, yet that doesn’t make it false. Goodwin quotes the US economist Thomas Sowell: ‘when you hear university academics talk about diversity, ask them how many conservatives are in their sociology department.’ It seems a fair question.
But grappling with that is not easy. The best answer, Goodwin argues, is a muscular response. Rather than leaving it to the sector to resolve its own issues, he wants to see hard-nosed interventions from policymakers and regulators:
only government action and new legislation, or pressure from outside universities, can change the incentive structures on campus. This means adopting a proactive rather than a passive strategy, making it clear that the individual freedom of scholars and students is, ultimately, more important than the freedom or autonomy of the university.
At the very end, Goodwin even argues someone should ensure ‘all universities be regularly audited for academic freedom and free speech violations’, with fines for any that transgress. Yet that begs more questions than it answers: we don’t know who would do the audit or what the rules for it would be.
So there is a paradox at the heart of Goodwin’s critique. He ascribes the problems he sees to flaws in the ‘system’ whereby the number of university administrators, institutions’ central bureaucracy and the pay of vice-chancellors have all increased rapidly. But such changes have often reflected:
Perhaps making universities more accountable to regulators and policymakers will make them bastions of free speech in the way Goodwin hopes, but might it not just clog up the lives of academics even more?
