Search Results for: "zero tuition"
Next week, everyone’s favourite Federation of Students is going to have a “Day of Action” to demand “Free Education for All”. A few months ago I explained why some student groups think it’s a good idea to be protesting right now even while governments are quite sympathetic to them (tl:dr: it’s because Sticking It To The Man is more important that achieving practical results).
Now to anyone who’s read this blog for more than once, it’s probably clear that I take a pretty dim view on the Free Education for All line. I do believe there’s an argument for free education at the college level; however, beyond that, the case is pretty weak. Low-income students already have net zero tuition in most of the country. For students from families making $40,000, subsidies (that is, grants, loan remission and tax credits) are already larger than college fees in eight provinces – all ten if we include Manitoba’s and Saskatchewan’s graduate rebate programs. They’re also larger than university fees in five provinces: Newfoundland, New Brunswick, Quebec, Ontario and Manitoba. Put that altogether and it’s clear that over 90% of all low-income students are already paying net zero tuition and will gain little from eliminating tuition. The big wins, therefore, are for richer students.
Free tuition does not reduce intergenerational disparities. It cannot produce greater equity in enrolments without a massive and seriously unlikely displacement of upper-income students from universities. And even Karl Marx understood that it was regressive.
But let’s put all that aside. Let’s assume for a moment that we all agree that any regressivity which occurs in completely subsidizing education for students from wealthier backgrounds is offset by the inherent benefits of universal programs. Or, let’s assume we agree with American scholar/author and free-tuition advocate Sara Goldrick-Rab (whose new book Paying the Price is very good by the way) that the only way to really ensure that the poor get the money they need is to subsidise the rich, too. Programs for the poor are poor programs, she says, so only universality can save the poor. (I don’t think this is true in Canada – the Trudeau government has just shown how to do targeting with its changing tax credits into grants – but I grant the possibility it may be the case in the US, so let’s go with it for now).
But even if we assume all that, we still need to assume that there is money available. And in one sense there clearly is: governments can make anything happen if they want to. They just have to decide to do it. It is a political question more than a financial one. But politics, as they say, is about choices. And the issue is: what would we choose not to pay for in order to ensure that kids from above-median income families don’t have to pay tuition?
Peace-keeping? Should we say no to a mission to Mali to keep wealthier kids from paying tuition? Childcare? Do we choose to invest less in childcare to make university free for those who can clearly afford it? Or what about clean drinking water on First Nations’ territories? More investments in mental health?
Because of entrenched interests and programs, it’s very difficult for democratic governments to move money from program to program. When incremental money arrives, they have to assign it to whatever priorities they think most important. It could go back to taxpayers via a tax cut, or it could go to pay down debt, or it could go into a priority spending area. When someone says “government should eliminate post-secondary fees”, in practical terms what they are implicitly arguing is that “students from wealthier backgrounds (because those are the primary beneficiaries) deserve this money more than families with childcare needs, or First Nations families living in communities with boil water advisories. I know they would explicitly deny this, but from the perspective of the government, which has to choose between competing priorities, this is exactly what is being advocated. That’s how lobbying works.
To recap: Free fees would help the rich most, would not reduce intergenerational inequality, will not work to reduce inequality of access, and to boot would take money away from other important policy priorities, many of which (e.g. First Nations’ health and sanitation) are transparently of higher importance.
Remember all that on November 2nd.
Statistics Canada, for reasons best known to itself, only tracks tuition for university programs. For college programs, we’re basically in the dark. We’ve got nothing, nada, zip.
In theory, it’s not all that difficult to work out. All you need to know is price and enrolment for each program offered: sum the prices, divide by enrolment, and voila! Average tuition. And yet nobody does it (my guess for why Statscan doesn’t do it? Something less than full confidence in the enrolment data that comes in from colleges).
(Actually, Canada’s not alone in this. In truth, there are very few countries with accurate tuition indexes. Most countries either have zero tuition, or a set tuition fee, or fees [under Australia’s HECS system, students pay one of three prices depending on what fields of study they are in, with no variation by institutions], or they have a huge multiplicity of prices, often due to having many private institutions. Almost no one keeps track of what goes on in private sectors, which is why you will search in vain for decent statistics on tuition in places like Brazil, Mexico, Russia, or even China for that matter. The miracle has more to do with the fact that we have a decent set of tuition statistics for universities – albeit ones with some pretty loopy characteristics, as I noted back here – rather than the fact we don’t have one for colleges. But I digress.)
The more faithful among you may remember that we here at HESA Towers tried to come up with a college tuition figure a few years ago. In retrospect, our numbers were probably a little high in at least one province (Saskatchewan). So this time, we think we’ve fixed the problems, and are giving it another shot.
Here’s how we came up with our numbers. We looked at posted prices on institutional websites, and then – where tuition varies across programs – came up with an enrolment-weighted average fee for diploma-level programs (both shorter and longer programs are excluded from these calculations). In Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, and Saskatchewan there is only one institution, so the calculation is relatively straightforward. In Alberta, an estimated enrolment-weighted tuition figure for diploma-level programs was provided to us by the provincial government. In these six provinces, we are pretty confident about our numbers.
In the other four provinces (Ontario, Manitoba, British Columbia, and Quebec), we did not do a census of institutions; instead, we obtained fee and enrolment data from a representative sample of college institutions, enrolment-weighted the fee data, and assigned it to the entire province. I know what you’re thinking: Quebec CEGEPs do not charge tuition. However, they do charge a variety of fees for things like athletics, student services, etc., and we counted those. In these four provinces, there is a bit more of a margin of error in that we are not fully certain how representative our sample is.
Caveats aside, here’s what we found.
Figure 1: Average Tuition in College Diploma Programs
Saskatchewan and Prince Edward Island have the highest average fees, at just under $4,700. This does not of course mean that all students are paying this amount; in fact, most are paying less, but both schools have enough high-tuition programs to pull up the average. In most provinces, the average is somewhere between $3,100 and $4,100, though Quebec and Newfoundland are substantially below that. The national average is $2,396.
That’s the picture for 2014-15 anyway. We’ll try to keep this index up-to-date each year – look for an update on this in September.
So, here’s the problem: Canadian governments are mostly broke. Even the ones that didn’t look broke a couple of months ago (Alberta, Saskatchewan, Newfoundland) are now very definitely broke (especially Newfoundland). There’s no money for PSE. Everybody knows that.
So, equally, everyone knows that the only way institutions are going to avoid a crunch is either by turning themselves into finishing schools for the Asian middle class, or by charging domestic students higher tuition fees. No one genuinely thinks the former is a sensible long-term solution, and yet that’s the way we’re heading because Canadian families and the politicians who represent them are resistant to the idea of a rise in fees.
To be clear, resistance does not arise because anyone really thinks fees deter access. Even the dopiest politician knows that participation rates today are over 50% higher than they were 20 years ago when nominal tuition was about half what it is now (certain student groups are indeed that dopey, but that’s another story). No, the reason people don’t want more fees is because too many people think that what universities and colleges are offering isn’t worth what they’re charging.
This is of course insane because, as we know, Canadians, on aggregate, are paying Net Zero Tuition for post-secondary education. We have $7.2 billion going out every year in various forms of aid – exactly equal to what universities and colleges charge in tuition to domestic students – and apparently no one notices. The focus is exclusively on the sticker price, never on the net price, which in many cases is negative. This shouldn’t be a surprise, given the opacity of our student aid system. We prevent students from working out their student aid package before they apply, and then we hand out as much of our aid as possible at the back end where no one will notice it.
It’s madness. And it has to change. We need to make it a lot more obvious what a great deal people are getting. We need to make it so that when governments spend money to make it easier for people to go to school, the people being helped actually realize they are being helped.
This is going to require coordination. Our confusing system is a product of the fact that many different players (feds, provinces, institutions) designed it so that it met their own administrative needs and desires for visibility, not the needs of students. We need all of them to agree to make it less complicated, more predictable, and more visible. That means, above all, ditching tax credits and either turning them into (hopefully targeted) grants or transferring them to institutions in return for a reduction in tuition.
Can’t be done, you say, because governments like to take credit for tax expenditures? Tosh. It’s abundantly clear that the public has no idea the credits even exist, so governments could hardly do worse than what they do now. Besides, there’s precedent to show it’s good politics: in 2012, Quebec ditched some tax credits in order to pay for improved student aid, and back in 1999, Manitoba explicitly ditched a refundable tax credit to pay for a tuition roll-back (meaning the roll-back cost the government nothing, and students were in fact no better off at the end of the day, but boy did the NDP make hay out of that one).
So it’s doable. But someone has to get the provinces and the feds to sit down together to make them do it. The only people who can do this are the institutions: specifically, the Association of Universities and Colleges of Canada (AUCC) and Colleges and Institutes Canada (CIC). Only they have the clout to get the provinces and the federal government in the same room to hammer out a deal. And it’s eminently in their interest to do so. Until Canadians rediscover what a fantastically good deal they actually have in their higher education system, the likelihood of more funds heading their way is pretty slight.
A few years ago, Germany’s Supreme court declared that tuition fees were constitutional, thus paving the way for some states to experiment with fees. Seven of them (containing over half of all students) did so: Baden-Wurttemburg, Bavaria, Hamburg, Hesse, Lower Saxony, North Rhine-Westphalia, and Saarland. The fees varied a bit from place to place, but most settled on a modest €500 (Hesse was €1000) – though in some places waiver systems meant that as many as a third of students paid nothing at all.
Gradually, the Länder have reversed their decisions, and this fall the final Länder (Lower Saxony) got rid of fees. Hence a raft of stories in the last couple of weeks about Germany “going tuition-free”, and questions from some quarters, asking: “could Canada do the same”? To which the answer is: of course we could.
It would be trivially easy for us to eliminate tuition. Heck, we already pay net zero tuition, in that what we charge domestic students is more or less equal to what we spend on various forms of non-repayable aid. If we got rid of all our student aid and scholarship programs we could have free tuition. It would be a bit rough on low-income students, students with dependents, and college students (who for the most part would lose money on the deal); it also would be a windfall for wealthier kids who go to university, but I’ve yet to meet anyone in the free-tuition camp who seems to care about that. Of course, that too would make us more like Germany, where direct funding for living costs is pretty meagre: only about 20% of students there qualify for student aid, and it tends to be for far less than what our students get.
At another level, of course, it would be even more trivially easy for us to “do a Germany”. All we need to do is stop spending so much public money on higher education. Their expenditure on higher education is about half of what ours is: per-student funding to institutions in Germany is about $10,000 (€7,000); in Canada, it’s about $15,000. And that has impacts as well: professors there, on average, only get paid about 60% of what ours do. When education costs are so low, it’s not difficult to keep tuition down.
German participation rates in higher education are also lower than ours, in part because they have no money to accommodate more students. They could have kept tuition fees and directed institutions to use that money to expand access, but they preferred not to do that. And so, as a result, the German student body is much more socio-economically selective than ours is – indeed, it is one of the most selective anywhere in Europe, and was so before fees were introduced.
So ask not if we could become like Germany, ask why we’d want to be more like Germany. Why would we want to spend less public money on higher education? Why, when the private returns to education are so high, would we want to exempt the beneficiaries from paying for the privileges they receive? Why would we want to give a windfall benefit to children from wealthier families who quite clearly have the capacity and desire to pay? Why would we spend all that money when the benefits to the poor – whose net tuition is already close to zero – would benefit barely at all?
In a couple of weeks, Statistics Canada will publish its annual Tuition and Living Accommodation Cost (TLAC) survey, which is an annual excuse to allow the usual suspects to complain about tuition fees. But sticker price is only part of the equation: while governments and institutions ask students to pay for part of the educational costs, they also find ways to lessen the burden through subsidies like grants, loan remission, and tax expenditures. And Statscan never bothers to count that stuff.
Today, we at HESA are releasing a publication called The Many Prices of Knowledge: How Tuition and Subsidies Interact in Canadian Higher Education. Unlike any previous publication, it looks not just at a single sticker price, but rather at the many different possible prices that students face depending on their situation. We take ten student cases (e.g. first-year dependent student in college, family income = $80,000; married university student, spousal income = $40,000; etc.), and we examine how much each student would be able to receive in grants, tax credits, and loan remission in each of the ten provinces. It thus allows us to compare up-front net tuition (i.e. tuition minus grants) and all-inclusive net tuition (i.e. tuition minus all subsidies) not just across provinces, but also across different students within a single province.
- On average, a first-year, first-time student attending university direct from high-school, with a family income of $40,000 or less receives $63 more in subsidies than they pay in tuition, after all subsidies – including graduate rebates – are accounted for (i.e. they pay net zero tuition on an all-inclusive basis). If they attend college, they receive roughly $1,880 more in subsidies than they pay in tuition (i.e. -$1800 tuition);
- A first-year, first-time student attending university from a family with $40K in Quebec, after all government subsidies, pays -$393 in all-inclusive net tuition. In Ontario, the same student pays -$200. But if we were to include institutional aid, the student in Ontario would likely be the one better off, since students in Ontario with entering averages over 80% regularly get $1,000 entrance awards, while students in Quebec tend not to. For some students at least, Ontario is cheaper than Quebec;
- On average, college students who are also single parents receive something on the order of $11,000 in non-repayable aid – that is, about $8,500 over and above the cost of tuition. In effect, it seems to be the policy of nearly all Canadian governments to provide single parents with tuition plus the cost of raising kids in non-repayable aid, leaving the student to borrow only for his/her own living costs.
The upshot of the study is that Canada’s student aid system is indeed generous: in none of our case studies did we find a student who ended up paying more than 62% of the sticker price of tuition when all was said and done, and most paid far less. But if that’s the case, why are complaints about tuition so rife?
Two reasons, basically. First, Canada’s aid system may be generous, but it is also opaque. We don’t communicate net prices effectively to students because institutions, the provinces, and Ottawa each want to get credit for their own contributions. If you stacked all the student aid up in a comprehensible single pile, no one would get credit. And we can’t have that.
The second reason is that Canada only provides about a third of its total grant aid at the point where students pay tuition fees. Nearly all the rest, stupidly, arrives at the end of a year of studies. More on that tomorrow.
Morning, all. Ready for the new school year run-down?
One thing already clear is that pretty much the whole sector has finally come to grips with the reality that annual 4% increases in funding aren’t coming back any time soon. That’s causing institutions to think more strategically than they’ve had to in a long time, which is a Good Thing – the downside is that there appears to be some places where this hard thinking is leading to some fairly ugly clashes between management and labour (hel-lo Windsor!). Contract negotiations this year could be very interesting.
Federally, the big story will likely be how to make the new Canada First Excellence Research Fund work. Yeah, remember that? Will it actually make big investments in big universities, the way its U-15 authors hoped? Or will the usual Canadian political dynamic intervene and turn it into something that distributes excellence funding more widely? My money’s on option 2, which means in a few years the U-15 will have to convince people to establish an even newer research fund-distributing body, with even tighter funding award criteria. Fun times.
The spring budget – the last before the next federal election – will almost certainly be about tax cuts, but it will be interesting to see if the feds think there’s something to be gained politically in more higher education spending. My guess is no, because CFERF was the Tories’ “big swing” for this mandate. Provincial budgets, I suspect, will all be status quo, but you never know. The fact is money’s tight, growth is slow, and almost no one (except possibly Alberta) is looking at good times ahead any time soon. Frankly, we’re only one good financial crisis away from some more swingeing cuts in public spending.
And speaking of swingeing cuts, some of those are on the table Down Under, along with a very radical plan to de-regulate tuition fees. I spent part of my summer in Australia and New Zealand learning about some of the many interesting policy developments going on there. Both countries – so similar to our own, yet with intriguing differences – have important lessons for Canadians on the higher education and skills files, and I’ll be talking a lot about them over the next few months, starting Thursday, with a two-part primer on the Australian de-regulation imbroglio.
One of our big summer projects at HESA towers has been following up on our Net Zero Tuition work with a much more detailed look at how students with specific profiles fare in all ten provinces. It’s possibly the most detailed look ever taken at how student financial assistance plays out on the ground with real students, and we’ll be releasing it tomorrow, and covering it on the blog both Tuesday and Wednesday. I look forward to the feedback.
But the real event to look forward to this fall is… the Worst Back-to-School Story of the Year Award! Now in its third year, this award highlights the most ludicrous, under-researched, over-egged story on higher education. Previous winners include Carol Goar and Gary Mason. So far this year the back-to-school journalism scene has been pretty quiet, so the field is wide open. Do send in any nominations to firstname.lastname@example.org.
Back to work!
From ordinary students and recent graduates, the response was basically some variant of the “n of one” reaction: “I pay attention, I have debt; therefore, it is not be possible that, across the whole, non-repayable aid had doubled, or that this country spends as much on non-repayable aid as it collects in tuition”.
This is what I call Solipsistic Social Science (SSS): when confronted with evidence that conflicts with previous beliefs, the reaction is not curiosity (e.g. “how is that possible”? Or, “why might that be”? Rather, it provokes outright denial: “if it’s not happening to me, it can’t be happening at all”. Understandable? Maybe. But it’s a bit sad coming from people with post-secondary education, though. Were I in a cattier mood, I’d suggest it’s a kind of disgraceful that PSE graduates might suffer from it, and it reflects badly on institutions themselves.
The more interesting reaction, though, came from “official” PSE groups, where the “but whaddabout” reaction reigned supreme. Aid dispensed as high as tuition collected? But whaddabout living expenses? Large numbers of students receiving more in aid than they pay in tuition? But whaddabout “lived experiences of struggling students”?
Now, some of those points are valid (and indeed I raised some of these myself back here). But the utter inability of everyone to even acknowledge the data existence was kind of incredible. OCUFA’s dismissed Margaret Wente’s article as being “tone-deaf”. You see, it doesn’t actually matter whether everything she said was factual or not, the problem was “tone”. And the only acceptable tone, apparently, is CRISIS. The fact that government aid has risen significantly in real dollars over the past 15 years, or that rises in student aid since 1999 have more than kept pace with real increases in tuition, or that since 1999, student debt has been flat, and student debt burdens (that is, the percentage of average after-tax income used to repay educational debt) have fallen by a third? That’s all “ideological”.
Well, you know what? The sector needs to grow the hell up. The reliance on perpetual crises isn’t just childish – it’s dishonest. A decade worth of good policy-making on student aid means that higher tuition – which has helped institutional finances immeasurably – haven’t had many negative consequences. That’s something to celebrate, but instead Canadian PSE groups try to pretend it never happened because they prefer the crisis narrative.
I get that people think that political traction is hard to obtain in the absence of a crisis. But no matter how worthy the cause, it’s not alright to pretend to knowingly ignore the truth in the attempt to drum up support. Especially in higher education. Our sector is supposed to be about truth, honesty, and rigour. Ignoring those rules in the hunt for more money is unconscionable, and in the long run does more damage than good.
One of the things that has become clear to me in much of the commentary about the Net Zero Tuition material last week was that a surprising number of people really don’t understand how tax credits work, or what their distributive impact is. Worth a review, then.
Bad Argument: Poor students don’t benefit from tax credits. It is quite true that students whose income is not high enough to be taxable cannot use the credits themselves in the current tax year – indeed no credits get used that way. But they can pass them on to parents or spouses who are supporting them, and who presumably find the tax relief of great benefit. Nearly 40% of tax credits get distributed in this way. Or, if their parents or spouses have no taxable income (rare), or if they just don’t want to give them up, they can carry them forward until such time as they have taxable income. Fortuitously, this is usually about the same time their student loans start coming due.
Better Argument: Tax credits would be better if they were refundable. No one would be better off in the end, but this way, at least, one could get rid of the carry-forward provision, and those students who currently have to wait to get their money could get it faster.
Bad Argument: The rich benefit more from tax credits than the poor. This is a tricky one, because it has a different answer if you’re making this claim at the individual level, or on aggregate.
It is certainly true that some tax expenditures are worth more to the rich than the poor. Tax deductions, for instance, reduce taxable income, which obviously is worth more if you’re in a higher tax bracket. But our whole system shifted from deductions to credits twenty-five years ago. And tax credits – by definition – are worth the same amount to everyone, regardless of their income. The only case where this is not true is if someone has no taxable income – but that’s irrelevant for education tax credits, because of the carry-forward provision.
Where this argument is true is with respect to aggregate spending. On aggregate, upper income families do receive more money from tax credits, because youth from upper-income families are more likely to attend PSE. For most people, that’s a good reason to dislike them. What’s hysterically funny, though, is that at least some of the people who use this argument simultaneously argue for greater tuition subsidies – which have exactly the same distributional consequences. Charitably, these people could be described as “confused” (less charitable descriptions include: “cynical”, “ridiculous”, “dumber than a bag of hammers”).
Good Argument: Money spent on tax credits would be better spent on up-front, need-based student aid. There are too many people receiving it who really have no need of it. Spread that money – that big chunk of over $2 billion/year – less thinly, focus on those who need it most, and our system would be much more effective and equitable.
Over the past two days, I’ve been explaining how Canada spends as much on non-repayable aid as its PSE institutions collect in tuition fees for domestic students – meaning, in net terms, that Canadian students pay zero tuition. Today I want to explore the implications of this.
Let’s start with what it doesn’t mean: it doesn’t mean that many people are going to school for free. All this funding is pretty lumpy. Many Quebecers and Newfoundlanders are receiving significantly more money than they are paying – ditto First Nations and students in Quebec CEGEPs. On the other hand, education is pretty expensive in Alberta because of the way the provincial government chose to slash student aid funding at the outset of the recession.
Another group also making out pretty well is graduate students in non-professional fields. They make up about 10% of the post-secondary student body, yet with their hold over the bulk of government and institutional merit scholarships, and their being nearly all independent students (and hence receiving more generous student aid packages), they are likely taking home something like 25-30% of the entire non-repayable available aid (of course, one could make the case that money for graduate students shouldn’t really be thought about in the same way as student aid, since it’s really support for research. There’s no hard-and-fast line here, but it’s worth a debate).
But here’s what it does mean: at over $7 billion in aid, 90-95% of it going to full-time students, we are spending something on the order of $5,500 per full-time student in non-repayable aid – and that includes those full-time CEGEP students who are paying $0 in tuition. Pure and simple, it makes a mockery of the idea that there is some sort of generalized affordability crisis. Nobody – absolutely nobody – is paying sticker price for tuition, and a substantial proportion of students are paying nothing at all (or very close to it). The next time someone (say, the Canadian Centre on Policy Alternatives, for instance) tries to peddle an “affordability crisis”, they need to be refuted vigorously. Insufficient student aid money is not the problem.
What is a problem is that not enough of this money gets to the right students. Sometimes, this is because the money is geographically restricted (e.g. too much aid in Quebec, not enough in Alberta), but the main reason is that our tax credit system, which puts $2.5 billion in the hands of students and their parents each year, is a colossal waste of potential. Re-distributing that money more according to need (as Quebec, in the one decent thing to come out of the Red Square movement, did back here) is long overdue as a policy measure.
That some students need extra funds is not in doubt, as all serious observers of Canadian higher education know. What separates the serious people from the cranks and the dilettantes, however, is precisely the ability to believe this without concluding that the problem is a generalized one, or that the only solution is to freeze or reduce tuition. Net zero tuition makes that position completely untenable.
Yesterday, we noted that Canada hands out over $10 billion to its students each year. Of that, $6.6. billion goes to students in the form of tax credits or grants; another $700 million is spent on savings incentives of various sorts. All told, over 70% of the $10 billion is non-repayable.
How does that compare to what students spend on tuition? Well, this isn’t entirely straightforward. We know from CAUBO/Statscan statistics that in 2011-12, universities collected $7.37B in fees from students. What we don’t know is how much of this comes from Canadian students and how much comes from foreign ones. At best, what we can do is approximate. The Canadian Bureau for International Education (CBIE) says that in 2011, there were 131,500 international students in Canadian universities, of whom roughly 12% are doctoral students. Stastcan says that in that year, international undergraduate fees averaged $17,500. Let’s assume that the doctoral students among them are paying zero, but the rest are paying full freight. That means: .88 times 131,500, times $17,500 = $2.025 billion in foreign student fees. And by extension, $ 5.35Bn in domestic student fees.
What about on the colleges side? That’s a little more fuzzy. For starters, the latest college data I have floating around the office is from 2007-08 (it’s a free email, people, you get what you pay for). It showed colleges collecting a little under $1.9 billion in fees (in $2011) from all sources, including continuing ed and trade-voc programs. Build in a wee bit of growth and we’re probably talking about something in the neighbourhood of $2.2 billion in terms of total fee intake.
What share of that is domestic? Again, it’s fuzzy. The CBIE data isn’t clear about colleges’ share of international students, but it’s probably the lion’s share of “trade” and “other PSE” combined, so call it about 18% of the 239,000 international students here in 2011, or about 43,000 in total (Colleges Ontario’s 2012 environment scan says there were 18,000 international students in Ontario alone in 2011, so that seems about in the ball park). We have absolutely no idea what international student fees are in colleges because nobody tracks that, but let’s really low-ball it and say the average is $7,000. That would imply international student fee income of about 300 million on the nose, and, by implication, a domestic tuition “take” of $1.9Bn.
So, just to tally things up here:
Total domestic tuition income in = $7.3 billion. That’s almost exactly, on the nose, what goes out in non-repayable aid to students and their families each year.
Net zero tuition. I’ll look at the implications tomorrow.