Under the radar, and away from the benighted question of Brexit, Britain’s public sphere is in a terrible state. Hospital waiting lists that miss targets for years on end. Schools that can’t open five days a week. Councils selling off whatever property they can – and closing libraries, public toilets and youth centres faster than ever before. Hence, of course, the appeal of a more Left-wing politics these days – a perfectly appropriate response to a crisis in our shared space and common ownership.
The situation in England’s universities is no different.
Away from the headlines – dominated of course by Britain’s disastrous and
chaotic retreat from the European Union – England’s Higher Education
Institutions are now struggling for cash. Many of them are now laying off staff, usually in a voluntary manner, but at some institutions in a widespread
and sometimes desperate cull designed to save institutions from bankruptcy. At
least one institution has had to be bailed out already. Rumours abound about
the numbers who will get seriously into trouble if the situation gets any
worse. It won’t just be a little handful, that’s for sure.
All of this has got drowned out for lots of reasons, not
least the easy answers that are often rolled out when you raise this issue.
‘Well’, people say, ‘Vice-Chancellors shouldn’t pay themselves so much’.
‘Okay’, bystanders shout, ‘don’t build so many new shiny buildings then’. But
although there are examples of bad behaviour and bad practice in both those
spheres, that isn’t the real reason England’s universities are now struggling.
This month, ‘Public Policy and the Past’ is going to take a look at the true
causes of the cash crisis – a quiet but poisonous policy disaster in the
making. And as ever, the answers are more surprising and revealing than the
knee-jerk responses so popular on social media.
Demographics. For all the expansion of postgraduate
taught and research student numbers, universities’ core business is still
undergraduate teaching. But there’s a problem here. This academic year and
next, the number of eighteen-year olds will reach historic lows that are far
below long-term trends. There simply are not enough young people to go around –
and since this government and the last have done their best to destroy the
part-time and second-degree provision that used to play such a positive role
across the board, that is acting as a structural drag on HEIs’ income. This
situation won’t last. If the share of each cohort going to university stays the
same, the rising birth rate from 2001 onwards will mean that the numbers of
eighteen-year olds will rise steadily (and by over twenty per cent) in the decade after 2019/20. But
universities have somehow got to bridge the gap between here and there. At the
moment, shedding staff and ambitions, they’re at risk of destroying teaching
provision and knowledge that will be desperately needed in the 2030s – one of
the problems of the largely unplanned system we have built ourselves.
The free-for-all. One problem English universities now
have is that they can’t plan ahead with any degree of certainty. Back when
George Osborne was Chancellor, which yes, does feel like about a thousand years
ago, he decided to take the cap-in-detail off student numbers entirely. The
idea being that a ‘market’ could emerge, in which students could choose exactly
where they wanted to go. Universities can now sign up as many students as they
can manage. The predictable outcome: some universities went on an expansion
drive to end all expansion drives, delving ‘down’ the traditional hierarchy for
students if needs be. So a kind of malign Mexican Wave developed. The Russell
Group kicked the middle-ranking institutions. They kicked down. Newer
universities kicked new universities. New universities kicked themselves. But
as the absolute numbers of young people declined, a huge amount of instability
was injected into the system. Some ‘research’ universities which could rely on
prestige from the past basically became teaching factories. Some ‘teaching’
universities began to specialise in profitable research, consultancy and
spin-offs. No-one knew exactly how many students to expect every September. And
some institutions got really nasty shocks when far fewer students actually
turned up. University life took on more and more of the characteristics of
merry-go-round or tombola, rather than the hallmarks of education.
The rising tide. University income got a welcome
jump-start back in 2011. Tuition fees set by the incoming Coalition
administration were supposed to usually stop at £6,000 per annum, only rising
to £9,000 in certain circumstances. Well, of course universities set themselves
immediately to jump all the barriers to charging that higher figure, and almost
all of them did immediately apply the top price tag. So far, so good. But there
was a problem. The quid pro quo of a one-off funding boost – replacing more
than the Government was withdrawing in teaching grants – was first a total freeze on incrases, and then an inflation-based formula that in an age of subdued prices held back universities from raising
their prices more than one or two per cent every year. But in a sector like
education, where most costs are staff costs (or which are in a few fields
related to scientific and technological change), inflation at the sharp end is
actually much higher than the background number. So universities’ costs slowly
approached the £9,000 per student fee over the last decade, then overall
matched it, and have now overtopped it. Put simply, there simply is not enough
money in the system.
The ageing professoriat. One of the reasons those costs
move up higher than any increase in fees is the structure of the academic
profession. Once you’re on a scale as Lecturer, Senior Lecturer, Associate
Professor and the like, you get to move up one increment on the pay scale every
year until you reach the top salary point for that role. And of course you then
usually apply for promotion, and if you’ve been teaching, researching and
publishing as you should, likely you’ll eventually get that promotion. What
that means, and what that means especially in a world where there are fewer and
fewer permanent entry level posts, is that the professoriat is expensive. Add
to that the effects of vastly increased management surveillance and government
pressure on performance indicators – meaning that staff increasingly meet the
criteria for progression – and it’s an increasingly costly picture. You will
probably have heard about last year’s university strike, caused by a complex
mix of the pension scheme attempting to de-risk its investments and deeply questionable assumptions about yield and risk – but for now the upshot is that
pensions, too, have become pricey. Add it all together, and universities
basically now cost more to run than students are being asked to pay. The
Government could easily make up that gap – for now – but the political drive
is, shall we say, conspicuous by its absence.
The building boom. It won’t have escaped your notice that
campuses look great these days – if you like a lot of glass and steel. Now this
has mostly been a boon to Britain’s very competitive and very successful Higher
Education sector. Vice Chancellors were usually right to rebuild. Campuses from
the 1960s and 1970s were often, well, knackered: teaching needs and modes have
changed; environmental standards have moved on, making energy-hungry teaching
blocks seem like a throwback to the days of coal and lead; very low interest
rates have meant that governing bodies can lock in cheap borrowing for capital.
So far, so good. But the rush to build has also been rooted in the same helter-skelter
hyper-competitive race for student numbers that is making finances so hard to
plan. Prospective students and their parents are not the gullible consumers
that many critics imagine: they are of course impressed, not so much by the
buildings themselves, but by the care and investment in the future that they
represent. Still, there’s little doubt that the sector has overshot. Very low
interest rates won’t last forever; some institutions have borrowed too much,
and not always on the most advantageous terms; some prestigious universities
have imagined that their huge and rapid expansion can be maintained forever, in
terms of the level if not of the increase. Basing their capital plans (and
therefore their debt maintenance) on that model may turn out to be a huge
error.
Bad policymaking. It will not have escaped your notice,
on the top of all this, that the UK’s policymaking community has been making
rather a hash of things of late. From Universal Credit to Chris Grayling’s
train timetables, the capacity to react to Brexit and the need to update
services, is just very low. It can’t be done at the same time as satisficing
with a much smaller and less experienced state apparatus. Consider the
situation from Vice Chancellors’ perspective. Will they be able to bid to the
European Research Fund? Will they still have access to the Erasmus student programme
that allows EU students to study across the continent? Will they still be able
to attract the best and the brightest EU staff? Will the Government allow them
to uncouple student visa numbers from their absurd overall immigration targets?
The answer being: right now, who knows? So they will draw in their horns until
the storm has passed – except, the way things are going, the storm may never
pass. The Conservatives in government look ready to slash tuition fees and make
universities absorb some of the cost – while preventing potential students from
lower grades accessing the student loan system at all. Labour, for their part,
want to abolish fees altogether. And if you think the Treasury will pay up for
that, we’ve got a really nice bridge here we can sell you. On top of Britain’s
longstanding research and development deficit, its ailing infrastructure, the
anti-intellectualism that passes for much of our collective life, the path
ahead looks more than steep and winding. It looks impassable.
Here, then, are the six real reasons why England’s
universities are struggling. It’s not Vice-Chancellor’s pay and too many new
buildings. It’s a matter of student numbers, impossible planning, rising costs
and poor policymaking. All the signs are that things will continue to
deteriorate – perhaps quite rapidly – before they get better. If they get
better. The fantasymongers that pass for the two main parties are about to make
it worse, just like they poison everything else they touch. The current rash of redundancies will
assuredly snowball, and a small number of perhaps very high-profile universities which have expanded furthest and fastest will threaten to go completely belly-up. What
will governments do then? In the case of redundancies, nothing, because
those job losses will make the sector cheaper. In terms of actual threatened bankruptcies,
though, things are trickier. Should central government bail the stragglers out,
or let the unlucky victims fail before reconstructing them later? That will be
the test for Whitehall and Westminster, who will yet again have set themselves
a challenge that should never have arisen in the first place.