HESA

Higher Education Strategy Associates

Category Archives: research

May 08

The Economic Growth Imperative

A quick note: the OTTSYD will be on brief hiatus next week, as I’ll be in Japan and won’t have regular access to my computer.  Not to worry, though, we’ll pick back up on the 18th.

Anyways: I was asked recently what I thought was the most important challenge for post-secondary education in Canada at the moment.  Resisting (barely) the flip answer “money”, I eventually settled on the allied concept of “learning how to promote economic growth and prosperity”.

Now, I know this theme is anathema to many in universities, who prefer to think of institutions as places to promote the pursuit of truth, beauty, etc.  Without wishing to dispute the importance of these goals, the pursuit of economic growth is simply a matter of self-interest.  Universities and colleges are not getting more money from tuition any time soon, largely because the perception of costs has drifted a long way from the actual net costs.  And as we saw earlier this week, there’s no new money coming from government this year, or any time in the near future.  The culprits?  A mix of adverse demographic trends and persistent slow economic growth.

Universities and colleges can’t do much about demographic change – they could be slightly less zealous about condom distribution during O-week, I suppose, but the pay-off is pretty long-term – but they can probably do something about economic growth.   In theory, PSE institutions can help themselves by working-out how to catalyze prosperity.  The problem is that universities, in particular, may not actually want to make the necessary changes to make this happen.

Let’s start by agreeing that we don’t actually know what specific higher education policies would maximize prosperity.  There’s this assumption that whatever we do now must be improving things, so let’s just continue on with only incremental changes.  But we actually have no idea if we’re teaching the right mix of skills, or competencies, or degrees to maximize growth.  We don’t know whether institutions can do more for growth by focusing on a few highly-qualified personnel (mostly PhDs), or by providing better education to a mass of students unlikely to go past the Bachelor’s level.  We don’t know what amount or types of experiential learning might be optimal. And while obviously it would be better all around if we understood these things, one still has to ask the question: if we knew the answer, would our institutions actually change as a result?  Or would internal resistance to things like more co-op, or a greater focus on undergraduate education (or whatever) stop them from doing the “right” thing?

It’s a similar case with research.  Say we had a better idea about how different types of research impacted short-, medium- and long-term growth, and we could say with some precision that re-jigging the system to be more/less focused on basic research, or more less/focused on (say) Life Sciences would likely result in larger economic payouts.  We don’t have any such idea of course – you’d think someone would have cracked some of this by now, but they haven’t – but if they had, would anyone whose research specialty/style not among the “correct” categories voluntarily change their research programs to help promote economic prosperity?  My guess is they’d sooner spend a lot of time contesting the economic research.

So there’s a choice here for institutions: continue doing what they are doing and worry about declining resources, or change things up to focus more on economic dynamism, and reaping rewards of higher income?  This is a discussion worth having sooner rather than later.

February 12

Free Election Manifesto Advice

OK, federal political parties.  I have some election manifesto advice for you.  And given that you’ve all basically accepted Tory budget projections and promised not to raise taxes, it’s perfect.  Completely budget neutral.  Here it is:

Do Less.

Seriously.  After 15 years of increasingly slapdash, haphazard policy-making in research and student aid, a Do Less agenda is exactly what we need.

Go back to 1997: we had three granting councils in Canada.  Then we got the Canadian Foundation for Innovation.  Then the Canadian Foundation for Sustainable Development Technology.  Then Brain Canada, Genome Canada, Grand Challenges Canada, the Canadian Foundation for Healthcare Improvement, The Canada First Research Excellence Fund – and that’s without mentioning the proliferation of single-issue funds created at SSHRC and NSERC.  On commercialization, we’ve got a College and Community Innovation Program, a College-University Idea to Innovation Program, a dozen or so Centres of Excellence for Commercialization and Research (CECRs) – plus, of course, the wholesale revamp of the National Research Council to turn it into a Canadian version of the Fraunhofer Institute.

It’s not that any of these initiatives are bad.  The problem is that by spreading out money thinly to lots of new agencies and programs, we’re losing something in terms of coherence.  Funding deadlines multiply, pools of available cash get smaller (even if overall budgets are more or less what they used to be), and – thanks to the government requirement that a large portion of new funding arrangements be leveraged somehow – the number of funders whose hands need to held (sorry, “whose accountability requirements need to be met”) is rising very fast.  It all leaves less time to, you know, do the actual science – which is what all this funding is supposed to be about, isn’t it?

Or take student assistance.  We know how much everyone (Liberals especially) loves new boutique student aid programs.  But that’s exactly the wrong way to go.  Everything we know about the $10 billion/year student aid business is that it’s far too complicated, and no one understands it.  That’s why people in Ontario scream about affordability and accessibility when in fact the province is nearly as generous as Quebec when it comes to first-year low-income university students.  For people to better appreciate what a bargain Canadian higher education is, we need to de-clutter the system and make it more transparent, not add more gewgaws.

So here’s the agenda: take a breather on new science and innovation programs; find out what we can do to make the system simpler for researchers; merge and eliminate programs as necessary (is Genome Canada really still worth keeping, or can we basically fold that back in to CIHR?) – while ensuring that total funds available do not diminish (a bump would be nice, too, but the simplification is more important).

As for student aid?  Do a deal with the provinces to simplify need assessment and make it easier for students to know their likely aid eligibility much further in advance.  Do a deal with provinces and institutions to convert tax credits into grants to institutions for a large one-time tuition reduction.  Do not, under any circumstances, do anything to make the system more complex.

I know it goes against the grain, guys.  I know you need “announceables” for the campaign.  But in the long run, it’s more important to do things well.  And to do that, we really need to start doing less.

February 09

Funding Universities’ Research Role

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a series of pieces looking at the economics of teaching loads; specifically, I was focussed on the relationship between per-student funding and the teaching loads required to make universities self-sustaining.  I had a number of people write to me saying, in effect, “what about research?”

Good question.

The quick answer is that in provinces with explicit enrolment-driven funding formula (e.g. Ontario, Quebec, Nova Scotia), governments are not in fact paying universities to do any research, and neither are students.  They are paying simply for teaching.  There is nothing in these funding formulae or the tuition agreements with students that says, “this portion of the money is for research”.

Now that doesn’t mean governments don’t want faculty to conduct research.  It could mean that government just wants any research to occur after a certain number of credits are completed.  But I’m not sure this is, in fact, the correct interpretation.  In Ontario, for instance, universities sign multi-year agreements with governments.  Not a word can be found in these agreements about research – they are entirely about enrolments and teaching.  Admittedly that’s just Ontario, but I don’t think it’s substantially different elsewhere. British Columbia’s institutional mandate letters, for instance, do not mention research, and while Alberta’s do, they really only suggest that the institution’s priorities align at least somewhat with that of the Alberta Research and Innovation Plan, a commitment so loose that any half-way competent government relations person could make it appear to be true without ever bothering any actual academics to alter their programs of research.

So I might go further and say it’s not that provincial governments want research to occur after a certain number of credits have been offered; rather, I would suggest that provincial governments do not actually care what institutions do with their operating grants, provided they teach a certain number of credits.  Certainly, to my knowledge, there is not a single provincial government in Canada that has ever endorsed the formula by which professors spend their time 40-40-20 teaching/research/service.  That’s an internal convention of universities, not a public policy objective.

There’s a case to be made that the research component of provincial funding needs to be made more transparent – a case, for instance, made by George Fallis in a recent book.  But universities will resist this; if research subsidies are made transparent, there will inevitably be a push to make institutions accountable for the research they produce.  That way lies assessment systems, such as the UK’s Research Excellence Framework (formerly known as the Research Assessment Exercise), or the Excellence in Research for Australia.  Both of these have driven differentiation among universities, in that institutions have tended to narrow research foci in response to external evaluations.  This, of course, is something universities hate: no one wants to have to tell the chemistry department (or wherever) that their research output is sufficiently weak that from now on they’re a teaching-only unit.

To put this another way: sometimes, ambiguity benefits universities.  Where research is concerned, it’s probably not in universities’ interest to make things too transparent.  Whether this opacity is actually in students’ and taxpayers’ interests is a different question.

January 30

The Case of Southwestern Ontario

Yesterday I talked about ways universities can generate economic growth, and I promised to offer an example from Southwestern Ontario.

Southwestern Ontario has been in the news a lot recently due to its deteriorating economy, not least through the efforts of Western professor Mike Moffatt.  More recently, the Globe’s Adam Radwanski penned a feature article on what southwestern Ontario can learn from such economic revivals as has happened in the US rust belt.

Radwanski’s argument is a long one, but the bit relevant to post-secondary education just cites the examples of Pittsburgh and Akron, and says that universities should work more closely with industry to create new hi-tech centres of production.  Right off the bat, I think we can discard the Pittsburgh example.  For one thing, the city is in fact continuing to hemorrhage manufacturing jobs (3,000 last year alone), and for a second, the two institutions that have done the most to power the local economy are Carnegie Mellon (private) and Pittsburgh (semi-private), with a combined endowment of $5.6 billion.  Last I checked, the combined total for Western and Windsor was around $700 million.

Endowments matter because they allow institutions to take risks.  It’s probably not a coincidence that if you look at major US tech and innovation hubs where universities have served as a catalyst (e.g. Silicon Valley, Route 150 in Boston), the institutions at the heart are all private, and hence not worried about legislative scrutiny.  The only exception to this rule – UT Austin – just happens to be the world’s second-best endowed public university ($6 billion in assets, behind Michigan at $8 billion).

Ah, you say – but what about Akron?  That’s a public university, and it had a big role in helping the local rubber industry transition into a centre of excellence for polymers.  And yes, Akron is actually an excellent example, because it has a very close Ontario counterpart; namely, the University of Waterloo.

These days, people associate Waterloo with co-op, engineering, and integration with the local hi-tech economy.  But it’s worth remembering that when Waterloo started out in the late 1950s, the hi-tech economy didn’t exist.  Back then, Waterloo’s main industry – like Akron’s – was tires, and for the first decade or so of its existence, Waterloo was all about working with the tire industry.

Could Waterloo have worked harder to “save” the local tire industry, as UAkron did in Ohio?  Possibly.  But one big thing Akron had going for it was the fact that Goodyear had its corporate headquarters there.  Companies tend to do R&D close to home.  Even if Waterloo had tried some of the stuff Akron did, there’s no guarantee it would have had the same results because at the end of the day, Waterloo was a branch plant economy.  That matters.

Instead, of course, Waterloo did something better: it invented a new local industry essentially from scratch.  This did not occur by “working with industry” as we traditionally think about it.  It happened by giving a lot of people advanced training in a particular area, letting them create and spin-out companies, and then wait for the local economy to develop the deep pool of managerial skills and venture capital sources required to take products from concept to market.

(The importance of this last bit is insufficiently appreciated.  Take UBC, one of the country’s leaders in technology transfer: its life sciences spin-offs had a miserable time in the 80s and 90s because back then the only thing the local VCs and entrepreneurs understood was how to cut down trees and dig stuff out of the ground.  There’s a domestic life-sciences business ecology in Vancouver now, but it took 20 years to develop the required knowledge and skills.)

So, could Western University play a role like U Akron or U Waterloo?  Yes.  But it would have to bet on an industry or two (and it’s not clear which ones would make most sense).  And for the moment it is unclear that they have the desire, the cash, or the political backing to do so.  And even if they did, results would likely take a decade or more to show.  It’s a fix, but not a quick one.

January 29

Universities and Economic Growth

If you read the OECD/World Bank playbook on higher education, it’s all very simple.  If you raise investments into higher education and research, growth will follow.

At the big-picture national level, this is probably true.  But it’s maddeningly inspecific.  What is the actual mechanism by which higher spending on a set of institutions translates into growth?  Is it the number of trained graduates produced?  Is it the quality or type of education they receive?  Does concentrating research in certain areas mean greater growth?  What about the balance between “pure” and “applied” research (insofar as those are useful distinctions)? What about technology transfer strategies?

Most importantly for a country like Canada: what about geography?  Is a strategy of widely distributing funds better than a strategy of concentration for spurring economic growth?  Should urban universities – nearer the centres of economic production – get more than universities in smaller conurbations?

Anyone telling you they have the definitive answer to these questions is lying.  Fact is, the literature on most of these topics is embarrassingly thin and provides little to no guidance to governments.  And the literature as it pertains to individual universities is even thinner.  Say you want an institution to “do better” at helping deliver regional economic growth: what do you ask it to do, exactly?  Here, the literature mainly consists of anecdotes of success parading as universally-applicable rules for university conduct (this European Union document is an example).  Which of course is tosh.

One solution you often see to the problem of decreased regional economic growth in smaller cities is for PSE institutions to “work more with industry”.  But if your local industry is in decline, there are limits to this strategy.  You can educate more people in a given field in order to lower the price of skilled labour.  You can get profs to work on upstream blue-sky research that will revolutionize the field, but the spillovers are enormous and the likelihood they will be captured by local business is small.  You can get your profs to work on downstream innovation with local business, but that’s not foolproof. Many companies won’t have the receptor capacity to work with you, either because they are too small or because they are too big and rely on a centralized R&D system, which more often than not is located outside the country (usually the US).

From a PSE point-of-view there’s two ways you can go from here.  There’s the route of “give us more money and we’ll give the local workforce a broader set of skills”.  But the fact that a local population has high levels of relatively generic skills does not necessarily make a region a particularly attractive place for investment.  I’m not an economic geographer, but it seems to me that one of the driving forces of the modern era is that the most profitable companies and industries are those that effectively capitalize on agglomerations of very specific types of talent.  And by and large, to get agglomerations of very specific types of talent you tend to need a large population to begin with, which is why big cities keep getting bigger.

The other option is a “place your bets” approach.  For emerging industries to find the right kinds of skills in a particular region, you have to place bets.  You have to say: “we’re going to invest in training and facilities to produce workers for X, Y, and Z industries, which at the moment do not exist in our region, and indeed may never do so.  Cape Breton University’s emphasis on renewable energy is a good example of this strategy.  It’s a bet: if they get good at this and produce enough graduates, maybe within a few years there will be enough of a talent agglomeration that business will go there and invest.

Maybe.  And maybe not.  Problem is, public universities and their government paymasters get nervous about “maybes”.  Higher education is a risk-averse industry.

Tomorrow, we’ll look at a case study in this: Southwestern Ontario.

January 06

Adult Discussions About Research Policy

Over the winter break, the Toronto Star published an editorial on research funding that deserves to be taken out to the woodshed and clobbered.

The editorial comes in two parts. The first is a reflection on whether or not the Harper government is a “caveman” or just “incompetent” when it comes to science. I suppose it’s progress that the Star gives two options, but frankly the Harper record on science isn’t hard to decode:

  1. The Conservatives like “Big Science” and have funded it reasonably well.
  2. They’re not crazy about pure inquiry-driven stuff the granting councils have traditionally done and have kept growth under inflation as a result (which isn’t great but is better than what has happened to some other areas of government funding).
  3. They really hate government regulatory science especially when it comes to the environment and have approached it the way the Visigoths approached Rome (axes out, with an intention to cause damage).
  4. By and large they’d prefer if scientists and business would work more closely together; after all, what’s state investment in research and development for if not to increase economic growth?

But that’s not the part of the article that needs a smack upside the head. Rather, it’s these statements:

Again and again, the Conservatives have diverted resources from basic research – science for no immediate purpose other than knowledge-gathering – to private-public partnerships aimed at immediate commercial gain.

And

…by abandoning basic research – science that no business would pay for – the government is scorching the very earth from which innovation grows.

OK, first of all: the idea that there is a sharp dividing line between “basic” and “applied” research is pure hornswoggle. They aren’t polar opposites; lots of research (including pretty much everything in medicine and engineering) is arguably both. Outside of astronomy/cosmology, very little modern science is for no purpose other than knowledge gathering. There is almost always some thought of use or purpose. Go read Pasteur’s Quadrant.

Second, while the government is certainly making much of its new money conditional on business participation, the government hasn’t “abandoned” basic research. The billions going into the granting councils are still there.

Third, the idea that innovation and economic growth are driven solely or even mainly by domestic basic research expenditures  is simply a fantasy. A number of economists have shown a connection between economic growth and national levels of research and development; no one (so far as I know) has ever proven it about basic research alone.

There’s a good reason for that: while basic research is the wellspring of innovation (and it’s important that someone does basic research), in open economies it’s not in the least clear that every country has to engage in it to the same degree. The Asian tigers, for instance, emphasized “development” for decades before they started putting money into what we would consider serious basic research facilities. And nearly all the technology Canadian industry relies on is American, and would be so even if we tripled our research budgets.

We know almost nothing about the “optimal” mix of R&D, but it stands to reason that the mix is going to be different in different industries based on how close to the technological frontier each industry is in a given country. The idea that there is a single optimal mix across all times and places is simply untenable.

Cartoonishly simple arguments like the Star’s, which imply that any shift away from “basic” research is inherently wrong, aren’t just a waste of time; the “basic = good, applied = bad” line of argument actively infantilizes the Canadian policy debate. It’s long past time this policy discussion grew up.

December 08

Massachusetts, Not Michigan

TD economist Ed Clark gave an enormously important talk last week, which deserves a lot of attention.  You can get the gist of it from two quotes:

“To return to the path to prosperity, Canada needs to stop wasting time worrying about how to get low-wage jobs back from the U.S. or abroad and start thinking about how to use our well-educated population, immigration policies and public health care to our advantage”.

“Stop competing with Michigan. Start competing with Massachusetts”.

Brilliant.  Couldn’t agree more.  I am fed up with our governments’ weird obsession with showering money and policy attention on blue-collar industries (overwhelmingly male-dominated blue collar industries, I might add).  Time to join the 21st century.

BUT.  Let’s be careful about this.

There will no doubt be some who are eager to use Clark’s words as a “Sputnik moment”.  You know, those times when a perceived scientific or economic threat makes politicians more susceptible to spending money on pretty much anything that looks scientific or knowledge-oriented.  Higher education loves Sputnik moments.

The thing is, no one actually knows how to do this well; that is, nobody really knows what kind of spending or programming actually leads to growth.  One of the problems of being on the technological frontier is that everything is uncertain, and so there’s likely to be a lot of false starts and a lot of waste when looking for the next big thing(s).  But universities (and to a lesser extent colleges) seem like a safe bet, so Sputnik moments are like catnip for them.  All they have to say is “give us bucks because knowledge economy” and politicians will shell out (It’ll be dressed up a bit, but that’s the level of sophistication).

The problem with this argument is that it’s maybe only a quarter of the story.  If pouring money into universities guaranteed economic growth, places like Malaysia, Chile, and Sweden would be world-beaters.  There’s a lot more to high-tech economic growth than education.

To the extent that local research is going to translate into local economic growth, you need managers and entrepreneurs who are skilled at taking research from an idea to proof of concept, and from there to market.  You need pools of investment capital that understand developing technological fields and are prepared to invest patiently in them.  And then of course you need a workforce to actually churn out product.  In the absence of this kind of social and financial infrastructure, funding so-called “basic” research is a lot like pushing on string as far as generating economic growth is concerned.

Then there’s the issue of graduates and the skills they deliver to the economy.  If you want to generate more economic growth matter, you need to make sure that institutions are giving students the kinds of skills that will actually raise private sector productivity levels.  That means much greater attention on the part of employers in articulating the skills and competencies they require as productivity rises, and much greater attention on the part of universities and colleges in providing students with such skills and competencies so as to be employable after graduation.

(Before anyone blows a gasket: I am not suggesting that the purpose of higher education is exclusively to generate skilled labour.  What I am suggesting is that if you’re going to use a Sputnik argument for more money, then you’re going to have to demonstrate how that money improves general productivity.  If you don’t like that deal, then don’t use Sputnik arguments.)

All of which is to say: there’s good news on the horizon in terms of getting everybody focused on a high-innovation, high-productivity economic future in Canada.  But the surest way to waste this opportunity would be to call for wanton expansions of current subsidies to higher education.  Change is needed to make public dollars work more effectively.  We should use this opportunity to make those changes.

October 23

Where the Questions Are

I had planned to continue on today with my series about operating budgets by taking a look at some scenarios for Central Canada, but I’ve been on the east coast for work the past couple days, and so that post will have to wait.  We’ll get back to it shortly, I promise.  But for now, let me turn to something I’ve been thinking about lately.

One of the maddening things about many discussions that concern higher education and business is the crudeness of many popular views on their relationship.  Mostly, we hear about how business’ role is to “contribute” to higher education, either via taxes, or philanthropy, or both (depending on where you are on the political spectrum).  Often times, the role of business is to hire “our” graduates (and if that’s not happening then let the agonized introspection begin).

And while those things are all true, what these analyses actually miss is the true role of business, particularly with respect to science: it’s a huge, incomparable reservoir of questions to be answered, and problems to be solved.  Of course, people get this at the level of applied research – by definition, when companies engage with higher education on applied research, it’s to solve specific problems – but they have trouble understanding when it comes to “pure” research.  Partly, that’s due to rhetorical confusion – the wording of “pure” research (a rhetorical device of Vannevar Bush designed to keep money flowing to universities after World War II) implies that interaction between scientists and pretty much anyone else will “contaminate” research.

But a quick history of 20th century science will show you that this is nonsense.  Much of Einstein’s early work was hugely influenced by being immersed in commercial technology at the Swiss patent office.  Quantum physics was an accidental discovery made by German scientists who were trying to design more accurate instruments to measure very small weights.  The Manhattan Project wasn’t about meeting commercial needs, but as research goes, it’s about as applied as it gets.  Etc., etc.

The point here is that there are parts of commercial science that are up banging against the frontiers of the unknown just as much as university science is: just think of what was discovered at Bell Labs, or what Craig Ventner has accomplished.  It’s where the rubber hits the road: where the most advanced academic science gets put into practice and tested in real-world conditions.  Under commercial pressure, commercial science looks for every little advantage when learning how to cure disease, design better buildings, and develop new technology.

Even Vannevar Bush didn’t believe “pure” research happened in a vacuum.  Indeed, the justification for “pure” research is always that someone, somewhere, will find an application for it.  If you don’t have an inkling of where your “pure” research findings might actually be applied someday, you probably aren’t conducting your “pure” research in a way that’s very effective, because you’re not asking the right questions.

And this is the real reason universities need to engage with industry: it’s where the best questions are.  And you’re not going to get top-notch research without top-notch questions.

October 01

A Venn Diagram About Skills Gaps

Short and sweet today, folks, as I know you’re all busy.

We’ve done a lot of research over the years at HESA Towers.  We read up on what employers want – and we also do studies that look at how recent graduates fare in the labour market, and what they wish they’d had more of while in university.  And pretty much, without exception, regardless of field of study, those two sources agree on what students need to be better-prepared for the labour market.

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So, want to give your grads a boost in the labour market?  Figure out how to give them those basic business skills.  Experiential learning is probably the most effective way to do it, but there are other ways, as well, both inside and outside the classroom.

It’s that simple.  Well, not simple at all really.  But at least the problem is well-defined.

August 11

Improving Career Services Offices

Over the last few years, what with the recession and all, there has been increased pressure on post-secondary institutions to ensure that their graduates get jobs.  Though that’s substantially the result of things like curriculum and one’s own personal characteristics, landing a job also depends on being able to get interviews and to do well in them.  That’s where Career Services Offices (CSOs) come in.

Today, HESA released a paper that looks at CSOs and their activities.  The study explores two questions.  The first question deals specifically with university CSOs and what qualities and practices are associated with offices that receive high satisfaction ratings from their students.  The second question deals with college career services – here we did not have any outcome measures like the Globe and Mail, so we focussed on a relatively simple question: how does their structure and offerings differ from what we see in the university sector?

Let’s deal with that second question first: college CSOs tend to be smaller and less sophisticated than those at universities of the same size.  At first glance, that seems paradoxical – these are career-focussed organizations, aren’t they?  But the reason for this is fairly straightforward: to a large extent, the responsibility for making connections between students and employers resides at the level of the individual program rather than with some central, non-academic service provider – a lot of what takes place in a CSO at universities takes place in the classroom at colleges.

Now, to universities, and the question: what is it that makes for a good career services department?  To answer this question we interviewed CSO staff at high- medium- and low-performing institutions (as measured by the Globe and Mail’s pre-2012 student satisfaction surveys) to try to work out what practices distinguished the high-performers.  So what is it that makes for a really good career services office?  Turns out that the budget, staff size, and location of Career Services Offices aren’t really the issue.  What really matters are the following:

  • Use of Data.  Everybody collects data on their operations, but not everyone puts it to good use.  What distinguishes the very best CSOs is that they have an effective, regular feedback loop to make sure insights in the data are being used to modify the way services are delivered.
  • Teaching Job-seeking Skills.  Many CSOs view their mission as making as many links as possible between students and employers.  The very best-performing CSOs find ways to teach job search and interview skills to students, so that they can more effectively capitalize on any connections.
  • Better Outreach Within the Institution.  It’s easy to focus on making partnerships outside the institution.  The really successful CSOs also make partnerships inside the institution. One of the key relationships to be nurtured is academic staff.  Students, for better or for worse, view profs as frontline staff and ask them lots of questions about things like jobs and careers.  At many institutions, profs simply aren’t prepared for questions like that, and don’t know how to respond.  The best CSOs take the time to reach out to staff and partner with them to ensure they have tools at their disposal to answer those questions, and to direct students to the right resources at the CSOs.

If you want better career services, there’s your recipe.  Bonne chance.

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