HESA

Higher Education Strategy Associates

Category Archives: Universities

November 22

Higher Salaries + Lower Workloads = More Sessionals

On Sunday night, the University of Manitoba and its faculty union hashed out a tentative deal to end a three-week strike.  No details are publicly available yet, but I think the dispute – and the likely strategies used to resolve it – are a useful way of understanding some general concepts around the economics of universities in Canada.

Directly or indirectly, institutions get their operating funds from having students sit in classrooms.  Tuition fees are directly related to credit hours and government operating grants are usually at least indirectly related to them.  One might question this in a place like Manitoba, where there is no actual funding formula and money is just handed out as a block on a historical basis, but as I showed back here the distribution of funding between Manitoba institutions actually looks almost exactly like it would if the province were using a weighted enrollment formula system like Quebec’s or Ontario’s.  So we can more or less dispense with that argument and make the simple equation “bums in seats” = revenue.

The main issues at play in the Manitoba dispute were related to salaries (faculty want more) and workload (faculty would like to limit management’s ability to increase it).  Now, if you want a big rise in pay, the university needs to find revenue to compensate.  In general, the way Canadian universities have been meeting faculty pay demands over the last six years or so is to raise enrollment, in particular international student enrollment, because it usually brings in more dollars per student.  On the whole, they’ve been reasonably successful at doing so. But the other faculty demand – maintained or reduced workloads – makes this a difficult trick to pull off.  Even if you fully accept the logic behind reducing workloads, the fact that revenue is a function of bums in seats means that faculty’s two goals are essentially incompatible.  Effectively, what is being demanded is that the university spend more and earn less.

Absent a major tuition increase, there are only two ways to square this circle.  The first, which the faculty association likes to talk about at great length is that the university can afford to do both because there are millions of dollars being salted away in various nefarious ways (which for the most part is nonsense because what on earth so senior administrators possibly have to gain by not spending money?) or, frivolously spent on fixing buildings or that old favourite “administrative bloat”.  While it’s certainly true some non-academic expenses have been rising, an awful lot of those increases have been concentrated in areas like IT and student services rather than everyone’s favourite bogeyman of “central administration”.  Undoubtedly some savings could be found in these places and diverted to faculty salaries, but they would be unlikely to do the trick entirely.  According to data from the Financial Information of Universities and Colleges (FIUC), the U of M’s entire “academic salaries” budget was just over $158 million in 2014-15; a 6.9% increase would mean an $11 million hit just in salaries plus another $2 million (roughly) in benefits.  In contrast, the entire budget for salaries in central administration is $22 million.

The second way of dealing with the problem is to allow faculty salaries to rise while simultaneously lowering the average cost of instructors.  A contradiction in terms?  Well, no.  All one has to do is hire more sessionals.  Since they are remunerated at – effectively –about a quarter of the rate of a full-time professor  it’s possible to both increase bums in seats (i.e. revenue) and keep the increase in average instructional costs to well below 6.9%.

I obviously don’t know what’s in the agreement reached Sunday night and there’s not going to be anything in the agreement which explicitly says “let’s go hire more sessionals”.  But it’s implicit in the logic of the faculty’s demands.  Universities don’t like to admit this is how they deal with faculty pay hikes because they are wary of charges of “cheapening” undergraduate education, and faculty unions don’t like to admit this is what happens because GOD FORBID their pay demands have negative externalities.  Still, both sides know exactly how this process works and neither side can claim the least bit of innocence in the process.

It’s the way the game is played.

November 03

The European Way of Student Services

One of the delights of working in international higher education is that while higher education is pretty much isomorphic the world over, it’s not entirely so. There’s not so much variation that expertise isn’t transferable, but not so little that you can’t be learn something new by appreciating another country’s system.  One are of particular interest is student accommodations and student services.

In North America we take it for granted that student services and residence are a responsibility of institutions – who else would do it?  But there are at least two answers to that the private sector could do it, or a public corporation not associated with a particular institution could do it.

If you hang out near universities for any length of time in Australia, for instance, you’ll see plenty of private-sector solutions for student housing. Companies build cheap, small-ish dorms (50-100 occupants) near universities, and rent them to students.  Which university?  Doesn’t matter.  So long as you’re a student, they’ll rent you a small single apartment.  It’s nothing special – IKEA to the max – but for someone looking for something cheap and full of fellow students, it makes a lot of sense.

(Some – but by no means all – of the companies building and operating student residences seem to be international in scope.  I met and chatted with representatives of one such company at NAFSA in Denver earlier this year and for the life of me I cannot figure out how this makes sense.  Every country has its own laws and building codes so where would economies of scale accrue? Still, apparently someone thinks there’s money to be made in this business.)

In Europe, however, there is a different approach: national student services companies.  In Germany, Deutsches Studentenwerk (DSW), a government-funded non-profit, is responsible for a network of student residences scattered across the country an addition to canteens and counseling services at a number of universities.  In France, a similarly-organized CNOUS is responsible for residences alongside things like student exchanges. DSW also provides certain other services for students like Legal Aid and assistance in obtaining student financial assistance (DSW in some ways seems to think of itself at least partially as a protector/champion of student rights somewhat in opposition to the universities and government).  The important thing here is that residence is not tied to enrollment in a particular university.  At a given residence in Munich or Berlin you might find students from one of a number of local institutions.

Now, you can see some real advantages to this.  First, an organization which specializes in student services might be more effective in performing it than one that sometimes views it as tangential to the “main” mission (say, at your average research university).  Second, it might be cheaper and more efficient. In Montreal, why duplicate housing services across UQAM, McGill and Concordia, all of which are within five stops of each other on the city’s Green Line?  Why not stick them all together?

But what’s possible in Europe isn’t always possible in North America.  Until fairly recently in Europe, universities were much more creatures of government than North American ones ever were – having a different state agency take over part of the system was no big deal (hell, Max Planck and CNRS took over most of the research mission so why not student services?) In North America, institutions (some of them, anyway) think of student services as part of their value proposition, an element on which they compete with other institutions.  Until very recently, that notion of inter-institutional “competition” was mostly absent from the European way of thinking.

In truth, the real reason most universities in North America wold be loath to take a European route is that residences matter for alumni donations. Research on this is pretty clear: the shine people take to their university is closely related to the strength of the attachments they form while there.  And though residences aren’t the only place students form attachments, they’re high up the list.  Take residences away from the institutional experiences, and your appeal to alumni is going to be a lot weaker.

But it’s an interesting model to ponder nonetheless.  Makes you think about what the true “boundaries” of a university really are.

November 01

Scientific Journal Prices & Library Purchasing Power

Last week’s pieces on libraries generated a fair bit of comment (I get the impression librarians don’t get attention that often).  So I thought I would come back for another pass on the subject.

First a couple of clarifications.  First, apparently CARL’s data for UNB includes expenditures at both campuses while the student data relates only to the Fredericton campus.  So all those per-student expenditure figures for UNB?  They need to be cut by about 20%.  Also, I think I need to underline that institutional spending varies so much because some libraries simply have much larger responsibilities than others.  It’s not simply a matter of having greater student support buried in the Library, or doing more or less on open access repositories and the like.  Some universities embed their archives in the Library, some take care of copyright issues, etc etc.  So don’t treat all those comparisons from last Wednesday as full apples-to-apples; treat them as a starting point for discussions about cost, efficiency, etc.

But one discussion that kept cropping in the various replies to my piece last week had to do with journal prices.  Everyone was happy to find that real expenditures on materials had climbed, but noted that this was nothing compared to the increase in journal costs, and might it be possible to show something a little more on that score?

As always on this blog: ask and ye shall receive.

The first challenge in keeping track of journal prices is that the manner of purchasing journals has changed considerably in the last 20 years.  Universities used to buy individual journals; now they buy publisher-packaged bundles of journals.  In theory, that brings average journal prices down (though not in a manner which is easy to track), but it keeps aggregate library expenditures high and rising.  The second problem is that even to the extent one can track journal prices, one needs a stable basket of journals to use as an index and as far as I can tell there isn’t one.  Library Journal has been doing a price survey for years, but it keeps widening the base of journals included in the index, so it’s not a perfect comparison over a long period of time.  Still, it’s the best I could find and I took the data from its most detailed cost comparisons (the ones broken down by Library of Congress subject) since the year 2000. The result is shown below in Figure 1.

Figure 1: Average Journal Prices across all Library of Congress Fields of Study 2000-2016, (in 2016 USD)

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Between 2000 and 2016, average journal prices in $USD rose by 107% after (US) inflation, or at roughly 5% per year.  But this growth was not distributed equally across all fields of study.  In recreation, the average increase was 417% (albeit from a pretty low base); in Anthropology it was a mere 64%. So an individual university’s lived inflation rate might vary quite a bit depending on the distribution of journal holdings across fields of study.  The base level of expenditures will be quite different as well: as figure 2 shows, there are some quite significant differences in average journal prices by academic field.

 Figure 2: Average Journal Prices for Top Ten Fields of Study by Journal Numbers 2016, (in USD)

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Anyways, back to the issue of purchasing power.  Obviously, journal costs are rising.  But so too are universities serials budgets.  Across all 31 Canadian Association of Research Libraries (CARL) members, which include 29 universities plus the Library and Archives Canada and the National Science Library, serials budgets rose 22% after inflation over the period 2004-5 to 2014-5.  That’s more than the overall 9% increase in the materials budget, which implies that there has been a shift in purchasing from single titles to serials.

But since very few journals are published in Canada, overwhelmingly the most important number is not the serials budget in Canadian dollars, but the serials budget in American dollars.  And here we lucked out, thanks to the resources-driven rise in the value of the dollar.  In inflation-adjusted US terms, CARL members’ budgets increased collectively by 36% – which is exactly the same amount by which average journal prices increased over the same period.  Meaning that, broadly speaking, Canadian universities were more or less able to keep pace over that period.

 Figure 3: Changes in Journal Prices vs. Canadian Research Libraries’ Serials Budgets, 2004/5 to 2014/5, indexed to 2004/5

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The problem of course is that since 2014, the dollar has sunk quite a bit – from 88 cents to 72 cents, or about 18%.   And though we have no CARL statistics past 2014-15, I think it’s fair to say that serials budgets have not risen concomitantly.  And so even without pressures like a 24% cut in provincial spending (as MUN has experienced), all institutions are likely to see some significant cuts in the few months if they have not already.

In short, a 5% per year real increase in journal fees can be dealt with by slimming monograph purchases if currency movements are in your favour.  But if currency values are heading in the wrong direction, there’s almost nothing that can forestall serials cuts.

October 31

Towards a Theory of Strategic Plans in Higher Education

I had an interesting discussion on twitter a few days ago about the nature of University strategic plans, and specifically, why they are rarely written in a manner that feels meaningful to faculty.  Having pondered it for a few days, I thought it would be worth jotting down some ideas.

  1. The university is, in most cases, a loosely-coupled organization.  For the most part, people in Fine Arts could not care less what is going on in the Faculty of Agriculture (and vice-versa).  Even within individual departments, teamwork is to some degree optional (you have your classes and research agenda, and I have mine).  This is not surprising because the real rewards system in higher education lies within the structure of each discipline.  The famous and somewhat unfair  question “is your allegiance to your university or your discipline” matters here.
  2. Issues of discipline vs. university aside, to a significant degree professors behave as if they are independent contractors who nevertheless get a steady pay check from some place called “the university” which far from being a common enterprise, is rather a set of services one uses selectively and sometimes even reluctantly.  That’s not to say everyone behave or feels this way, but a sufficiently large proportion does, making the notion of common enterprise problematic.
  3. Or, to put it another way: “The Faculty exists to protect the department from the University.  The Department exists to protect me from the Faculty.  And the Department can go jump in the lake.”  Many professors believe at least two if not all three of those sentences. This makes universities platforms for independent teaching and research rather than an organization with a coherent value proposition of its own.
  4. But while the university looks like a particularly anarchistic jazz band from the inside, from the outside (i.e. from the POV of governments, students and parents), it’s an orchestra.  That is, someone is in charge, and everyone has a part to play in a common purpose.  In fact, they’d probably be pretty annoyed to find out no one is in charge.  And so the people nominally managing the university (the Board, the administration) are obliged to make out as if the organization does have some common purpose beyond everybody doing their own worthy thing.
  5. One of the ways they assert that there actually is a university, and not just a group of departments connected by a steam plant, is to make strategic plans.
  6. Strategic planning as performed in universities is borrowed from strategic planning in the corporate sector, with a few differences:
    • Companies have unique value propositions.  With very few exceptions, universities do not.
    • Under no circumstances are strategic plans allowed to make fundamental trade-offs between constituent different parts of the university.  All boats must rise.
    • Prestige, not profit, is the measure of success (as indeed it is for individual professors within their own disciplines).
  7. The only strategic plans that actually meet all three criteria are strategic plans which focus on increasing net revenues to the university.  Co-incidentally, senior administrators have also noticed that funneling money to faculty does generally keep them happy.  Not unreasonably, this leads senior administrators to believe that as long as the money keeps flowing, the faculty will be happy.
  8. Strategic Plans are therefore written primarily with the governments and major philanthropists in mind.  Keep them happy, and money will keep flowing, and faculty will be happy, and new projects can be started, and prestige will rise.
  9. Corollary: strategic plans are usually written in ways which require faculty to do as little as possible.  They are agendas for administrators, not faculty.

Now, for those faculty members that are happy simply puttering along on their own – that is, those who most senior admins believe are the median professors – this whole thing works out just fine.   But not everyone feels that way.  And for people who want a stick with which to beat admins over the head, one of the easiest things in the world is to pick up a strategic document phrased in language designed to speak to governments, businesses and philanthropists and say “this document is too corporate, it doesn’t speak the language of science and academia”.

No kidding.  That’s a feature, not a bug.

Are there other, more inclusive, ways of doing strategic planning?  Sure.  But they require much tougher discussions about actual academic priorities, discussions that might involve campuses being more than just platforms for individual research agendas, or which might involve sacrificing some activities for the good of others.  And though we might wish it were otherwise, there aren’t a lot of examples of shared governance bodies being up to having those kinds of discussions.

I invite feedback.

October 25

What could a new private university in Canada look like?

Yesterday I outlined why a major private university has never emerged in Canada.  But I also suggested that it wasn’t impossible one might pop up in the future if it were backed by someone with sufficiently deep pockets and an eye for strategy.  Here is what I mean by this:

For a private university to be a success, it needs to be getting thousands of students.  Say 4,000 or so.  It’s not impossible to operate below that level, but it’s precarious.  Ask Bishop’s.

And that’s tough.  Getting people to commit to a university before it has any visible sign of success (such as well-employed graduates) is extremely difficult when there are quite prestigious institutions available nearby, as is the case nearly everywhere in Canada.  Ask Quest.

Any new university is likely to take a few years to catch on; and yet it must be able to put out a quality product during that time.  Hence the need for deep pockets.  But there also needs to be a real value proposition for a new institution: a reason to go there rather than a regular university.  England’s Buckingham University and Australia’s Bond University (both private universities which have managed to clear the 4,000 student mark) did this by offering accelerated degrees that allowed a student to graduate more quickly.  That might also work here, but let me suggest a couple of other ways that might work too.

The first possibility is to create a university which can compete with big public universities on price.  There are a couple of ways of doing this, but basically it means re-thinking the structure of an institution.  One popular route these days is to do away with departments (which are an utter cost sink and the source of pretty much any cost-inflating idea a university can come up with) and leave faculties as the only level of administration.  Combine this structure with a human-resource strategy which combines a few well-rewarded big names with a mostly casual staff, and there’s the possibility of creating an institution which is cost-effective while still carrying enough prestige to attract students.  In the United States, two new universities have been built along more or less this model in the past decade (Harrisburg University of Science and Technology and University of Minnesota Rochester), although neither has gone quite as far as Professor Vance Fried and his prescriptions in a well-known 2008 paper which purported to offer “Ivy-like” education for below $7,500 per student.  In Ontario, back a few years ago when for some reason the government thought it was going to build three new universities, a similar idea was proposed by Centennial College plus Maureen Mancuso and Alastair Summerlee of Guelph University.  The proposal was technically ineligible and the competition for new campuses never happened anyway because (whoops) the number of 18 year-olds started declining in 2013 (and who could possibly have foreseen that at any time since 1995?).  But nevertheless I think it shows there’s at least some appetite to head down this route, and that it would be possible to go down this route for at least Arts, Sciences and Business.

The second possibility would take the opposite route.  If Canada has an available niche, it’s in luxurious, prestigious liberal arts colleges (yes, there is the U4 League, but none of them could be described as luxurious – indeed provincial funding models leave these kinds of universities pretty stretched).  So why not try to charge top dollar for a Liberal Arts school with big names?  This has been the approach of AC Grayling’s New College of the Humanities (NCH) in London for the past four years and – regulatory niggles aside – it seems to be doing reasonably well.   Now I know what you’re thinking: who wants to pay for Liberal Arts degrees, unemployment, baristas, etc.  But the fact is, as institutions like Middlebury, Bryn Mawr and indeed NCH show, provided the level of instruction is good and the student-teacher ratio small, there are lots of people prepared to pay for that kind of education.  Maybe not 4,000 people for year, but if the fees are high enough, a university can survive at somewhat smaller numbers.

So yes, the potential for a private university is there.  What’s missing so far is ambition and money.  One day, someone will fill that gap.  It’s just a question of when.

October 18

Presidential Salary Comparisons

The President of Iowa State University was recently reprimanded for crashing one school-owned airplane, overusing the other, and charging the cost to the institution.  The institution’s Board is asking serious questions: such as “why they were paying for the President to go back and forth to his family-owned Christmas Tree business in North Carolina,”  but not, apparently, “why in God’s name does our university own two aeroplanes?” As one does.

As I read this story, I thought “if nothing else, that’s a pretty amusing segue to talking about Presidential salaries, which I haven’t done in awhile.”  I made some international comparisons on Presidential salaries about four years ago, and basically came to the conclusion that i) being an Australian university President was a really sweet gig and ii) Canadian university Presidents were paid a lot less than their counterparts elsewhere.  But hey, what’s a daily blog that doesn’t occasionally revisit the same topic with new data?

So, same rules as last time: For Canada, the data is from the ever-useful CAUT Almanac, except for l’Université de Montréal, which I took from press reports.  For the US, the data is from the Chronicle of Higher Education’s annual survey on Presidential pay (I’d link but it’s paywalled) and is restricted to Presidents of public universities.  UK data is from the Times Higher Education Supplement, and Australian data is from The Australian.  Data for Australia is 2014, for the the UK and the US it is 2014-15 and for Canada it is 2012 (except Montreal, where it is 2014).   Currencies have been converted to US dollars using the 2014 Big Mac Index – if you want to translate these into Canadian dollars, just add 20%.  Figures represent total compensation rather than base pay.

In the first chart, I take the top-ten highest-paid university Presidents in each country and average their salaries.  As is plainly evident, the highest-earners Canadian Presidents are nowhere near as well paid as their foreign counterparts – in fact they receive less than half what top brass are paid in Australia (it’s difficult to be definitive given the different ways of converting currencies, but essentially, the worst-paid President in Australia is better-compensated than the top-earning President in Canada).

Figure 1: Average Salary of Ten Best-paid Public University Presidents in Canada, Australia, UK and US

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Arguably this isn’t an entirely fair comparison because we are simply looking at the average at one end of a distribution.  So, to try to make a more apples-to-apples comparison, I also took an average of salaries at each country’s “top” institutions.  To do this, I looked at the Academic Ranking of World Universities (i.e. the Shanghai Rankings), and took the top 10 public institutions in the US (all in the top 40 worldwide), the top 9 institutions in the UK (the 9 in the top 100), the top 8 institutions in Australia (those in top 150) and the top 6 in Canada (also those in top 150 – meaning Toronto, UBC, Montreal, McMaster, Alberta and Montreal).  Here’s what this comparison looks like: 

Figure 2: Average Salary of Presidents at Top-Ranked Institutions in Canada, Australia, UK and US

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So: everyone’s average drops somewhat because it’s not always the top universities paying the top salaries.  The drops are biggest in the US and the UK, but the rank order of average salaries remains the same: Australia way at the top, Canada at the bottom.  In fact, at roughly equivalent universities, Australian Presidents are making over two and a half times as much as Canadian ones.

To be clear: I’m not making am argument for going hog-wild on Presidential pay here in Canada.  On the whole, I think we’re closer to getting it right on senior exec pay than others are.  But our obsession with executive pay perennial habit of calling out “fat cats” is misplaced.  By international standards, our Senior execs’ pay is pretty modest.  And we keep them away from private planes, too.

October 07

Microcosmographia Academica

Many years ago – I think it was when I first got elected to student council – my grandfather gave me a copy of a 1908 satirical book on academic politics called the Microcosmographia Academica (available online here) by F. M. Cornford. Addressed to “the aspiring academic politician”, it is still very much worth a read today, especially if you’ve just been elected to Senate or have taken on some significant administrative duties. Not all of it ages well (bits of it are unintelligible unless you have a firm grasp of late nineteenth century academic reforms in the UK), but much of it is absolutely timeless.

Consider the problem of how we select professors:

A lecturer [i.e. a junior-rank professor – AU] is a sound scholar who is chosen to teach on the grounds that he was once able to learn.

Replace “learn” with “conduct competent research” and the statement is as true today as it ever was. Similarly, it turns out that the basis for academic snobbery hasn’t changed very much in the last century or so:

The Principle of Sound Learning is that the noise of vulgar fame should never trouble the cloistered calm of academic existence. Hence, learning is called sound when no one has ever heard of it.  If you should write a book be sure that it is unreadable; otherwise you will be called “brilliant” and forfeit all respect.

But the core of the book is an adumbration of ways in which things do not get done in universities. Referring to committees, Cornford says:

…we have succeeded in minimising the dangerous feeling by the means of never allowing anyone to act without first consulting at least twenty other people who are accustomed to regard him with well-founded suspicion…it is clear, moreover, that twenty independent persons, each of whom has a reason for not doing a certain thing and no one of whom will compromise with any other, constitutes a most effective check on the rashness of individuals.

Cornford notes that there is only ever one argument to do something: that it is the right thing to do. All other arguments are arguments not to do something. These he enumerates with great relish: the Principle of the Wedge (“do not act justly now for fear of raising expectations that you may act still more justly in the future”), the Principle of the Dangerous Precedent, Giving the Present System a Fair Trial, etc. But he is also very good at explaining how to accept something in principle while obstructing it in practice. To wit:

Another argument is that the machinery for effecting the proposed object already exists. This should be urged in cases where the existing machinery has never worked and is now so rusty there is no chance of its being set in motion.

And of course, he deals with political discourse in a university, specifically with respect to Jobs:

These fall into two classes: My Jobs, and Your Jobs. My jobs are public-spirited proposals which happen (much to my regret) to involve the advancement of a personal friend or (still more to my regret) of myself. Your Jobs are insidious intrigues for the advancement of yourself, speciously disguised as public-spirited proposals.

Non-academic positions still get spoken of this way all the time.

It’s a short piece – not more than a half-hour’s read. It’s worth the time. Enjoy.

October 04

Authentic Academic Eyes

It’s a reasonably common occurrence for academics to diss non-academic professional staff.  “They’re taking over”.  “They’re not like us”.  “They’re ruining the university”.  Book-length whinges (not very good ones, mind) have been written about this.

These whinges usually combine two distinct arguments.  The first has to do with the mere existence of some non-academic positions, who often act as the interface between the academic institution and the market (think research services, alumni/advancement, recruitment, marketing and – God forbid – branding).  That these positions exist at all is often seen as some kind of neo-liberal front to the ideal of a university.  The second has to do with the behaviour and attitudes of the people who staff these positions, which are often seen as alien or inimical to academic values.  The former view is a noisier and more virulent one among faculty; the latter quieter but more widespread.

The distinction was brought home to me in a recent online conversation I had with a senior faculty member whose university marketing people had just made some howler or other. If I recall correctly, it was a marketing tagline along the lines of “At University of X, we don’t just teach Y, we live it”, with some people wondering why any university would use a phrase that even vaguely sounded like teaching was a second-best activity.  The faculty member said to me “obviously, no set of academic eyes ever laid sight upon that before it went out”.

Exactly.

I don’t think there are many profs that genuinely question that  there is a need for having masses of non-academic employees doing that interaction-with-the-outside-world stuff and “selling” the institution and its merits.  Most people understand that If those people weren’t out there bringing in the money, academics wouldn’t be able to do their thing.  And these are in fact professional services: they aren’t jobs academics could do themselves even if they were inclined to do so.  So it’s not a matter of “taking back” responsibilities which once were academic and now are not: one might regret the need for quite so many of these positions, but a job’s got to get done, the right people should be hired to do it.

But what is aggravating beyond all get out is when people in these positions don’t get the product they are selling.  When, in the process of selling the institution, language is used which actually works at cross-purposes to the values of the institution in question.

So while virtually no one wants to put profs in charge of marketing efforts, institutions should make it a point to ensure everything that goes out bearing your institution’s name has had a set of “academic eyes” on it.  Get academic input on marketing campaigns before they start.  Not to obtain creative direction or, God forbid, to do wordsmithing (that way madness lies), but simply to ensure that what is said in the institution’s name is said in a tone that doesn’t do violence to the academic mission.  It could save everyone a lot of potential embarrassment.

September 23

Social License and Tuition Fees

So, to Johannesburg, where South African Education Minister (and Communist Party chief) Blade Nzimande finally announced the government’s decision on tuition for next year. He was in a tricky place: students are still demanding free tuition (see my previous story on the Fees Must Fall movement here) and will not accept a hike in fees. Meanwhile, universities are quite rightly feeling very stretched (it’s tough trying to maintain developed-world caliber institutions on a tax base which is only partially of the developed-world): with inflation running at around 6.5%, a fee freeze would amount to a substantial cut in real income.

So what did the minister do? He pulled an Ontario (or a Chile, or a Clinton, if you prefer). Tuition to rise, but students from families with income of R600,000 or less (roughly C$56,000, or US$43,000) would be exempt from paying the higher tuition. Who exactly was going to verify students’ income is a bit of a mystery since the cut-off for student financial aid in South Africa is considerably below R600,000 (a justified cause of further student complaint), but no matter. The basic idea was clear: the well-off will pay, the needy will not. The exact amount extra they would pay? That would be up to individual universities. They could set their own tuition but were strongly advised not to try increasing fees by more than 8%.

It took student unions less than five seconds to find this inadequate and to denounce the government. Several unions have threatened to boycott classes if their institution raised fees.

This raises an interesting question. Why, if students in Chile and Ontario are claiming victory (or partial victory at least) over their fee regimens, do South African students reject it? Well, context is everything. The key here is government legitimacy, or lack thereof.

Let’s take the Charest government in the Spring of 2012. The tuition fee increase that the government proposed was not excessive, and poorer students in fact might have been better off once tax credits were factored in. But absolutely no one paid the slightest bit of attention to the policy details. This was a government that had outstayed its welcome, and was badly tarred by corruption scandals (my favourite joke from that spring: what’s the difference between a student leader and a Montreal mafia boss? Only one of them has to forswear violence in order to get a meeting with the Minister of Education). It had a good, saleable plan, but literally no political capital on which to draw. The plan, as we all know, failed.

(By the by, this is why, if the Couillard government is going to move on tuition fees, it’s going to have to do it this year. Their window is closing.)

I could go down the list here. The big anti-tuition fee protests that got the President of South Korea to promise to reduce tuition in the spring of 2011? That was at the tail end of a profoundly unpopular Presidency (though to be fair in Korea it’s the rare presidency that doesn’t end in profound unpopularity). The Chilean tuition protests of 2011-2? Also at the end of an unpopular presidency. By contrast, the largest tuition fee increase in the history of the world – the increase announced for England in the fall of 2010 – was essentially met with only a single rally, in part because the measure was introduced by a brand-new government which led in the polls. Basically, you need “social license” in order to do something unpopular on tuition fees. Some governments have it, others don’t.

The South African government is in precisely this kind of legitimacy crisis right now. It is not a simple matter of President Zuma’s unpopularity, though his increasingly kleptocratic regime is profoundly unhelpful. It’s a bigger crisis of post-apartheid society. Formal racial equality exists, but equality in economic opportunity, equality in educational opportunity: those are still very far away and in many ways are not much better than they were 20 years ago. Today’s youth, born after Nelson Mandela’s release from prison, no longer feel much loyalty to the ANC as the leader of “the struggle”. They simply see the party as being incompetent, corrupt, and incapable of delivering a better and more equal society.

And it’s that anger, that rage, which is driving the #feesmustfall movement. I think there’s a real chance this won’t end well; there has already been a serious uptick in violence on South African campuses. South Africa’s universities, unfortunately, may end up as collateral damage in a larger fight for the country’s future.

 

September 20

Sessionals: Equal Pay for Equal Work?

Following up on yesterday’s piece about counting sessionals, I thought it would be a useful time to address how sessionals get paid.  Every so often, the Ontario Confederation of University Faculty Associations (OCUFA) issues a press release asking that contract faculty get “equal pay for work of equal value”.  And who could be against that?  But what they don’t say, because no one wants to say this out loud is that, in Canada , adjuncts and sessionals are far from being underpaid: for the most part they actually are compensated fairly.  At least according to the standards of the academy itself.

I know that’s an unpopular opinion, but hear me out.  Think about what the correct comparator to a sessional academic is: it is a junior-rank academic, one who has been given assistant professor status but is not yet tenured.  These days in Canada, average pay for such folks is in the $80,000 range (your mileage may vary based on an institution’s location and prestige).

How much of that $80,000 is specifically for teaching?  Well, within the Canadian academy, there is a rule of thumb that a professor’s time should be spent 40% on teaching, 40% on research and 20% on some hazily-defined notion of service.  So, multiply that out and what you find is that only $32,000 of a new tenure-track prof’s salary is devoted to teaching.

Now break that down per class.   Depending on the institution, a professor is (in theory at least) teaching either four or five semester-long classes per academic year (2/2 or 3/2, in the academic vernacular).  Divide that $32,000 payment for teaching by four and you get $8,000 per one-semester class; divide it by five and you get $6,400.  An “equal work for equal pay” number therefore needs to be somewhere in that range.

Here’s what we know about adjuncts’ salaries: in 2014, the Higher Education Quality Council of Ontario published a study on salaries of “non-full-time instructors” in the province.  It showed that sessional instructors’ salaries in 2012/13 ranged from about a little $6,000 per course to a little over $8,000 per course (with inflation, it is likely slightly higher now), with most of the big universities clustered in the low-mid $7,000 range.  At a majority of institutions, sessionals also get health benefits and may participate in a pension plan.  In 2013, University Affairs, the in-house publication of Universities Canada published results on a nine-institution survey of sessional lecturer compensation (see here).  This showed a slightly wider range of compensation rates: at Quebec schools they were comparable to or slightly higher than Ontario rates, while elsewhere they were somewhat below.

To re-cap: if you buy the 40-40-20 logic of professorial pay, most universities in Canada – at least in central Canada – are in fact paying sessionals roughly the same as they are paying early-career tenure-track academics.  In some cases the benefits are not the same, and there may be a case for boosting pay a bit to compensate for that.  But the complaint that sessionals are vastly underpaid for the work they are contracted for?  Hard to sustain.

Sessionals themselves would naturally argue that they do far more than what they are contracted for: they too are staying academically active, doing research, etc.  To which the university response is: fine, but that’s not what we’re paying you for – you’re doing that on your own time.  The fight thus isn’t really about “equal pay”, it’s a fight about the right to be paid for doing research.

And of course OCUFA knows all this.  The math involved is pretty elementary.  It can’t really think these staff are underpaid unless it believes a) that the 40-40-20 thing is wrong and teaching should be a higher % of time and salary (good luck getting that one past the membership) or that sessionals need to be paid not on the same scale as assistant profs but on the scale of associates or full profs (again, I would question the likelihood of OCUFA’s membership thinking this is a good idea).

But if neither of those things is true, why does OCUFA use such language?  It’s a mystery worth pondering.

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