HESA

Higher Education Strategy Associates

Tag Archives: Saskatchewan

October 21

A Prairie Round-up

If you’re a long-time reader of this blog, you’ll know that every spring I put together a little summary of provincial budgets and what they mean for higher education.  A few days ago I decided to put together a slide comparing the cumulative changes in provincial funding since 2011.  Here’s what it looks like, in inflation-adjusted dollars.

Figure 1: Change in real provincial government transfers to institutions, 2011-2 to 2016-17

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What should immediately jump out at you (apart from the raging dumpster fire that is Newfoundland’s public fisc these days) is that while public funding for universities is flat or declining in most of the country, in the three prairie provinces increases have been the order of the day.  So what’s going on out there?

The nature of the trend-bucking has differed across the three provinces.  In Saskatchewan and Alberta, high energy prices kept spending buoyant at least until a couple of years ago.  Since then, Alberta’s new NDP government has continued to spend, whereas Saskatchewan’s has started to retrench (but spending is still higher  than it was in 2011).  Manitoba’s never-too-hot, never-too-cold economy hasn’t see the big revenues fluctuations of its neighbours, but until earlier this year had a government that was prepared to engage in deficit spending in part so as to provide significant support to post-secondary education.

(You can get the gist of recent policy directions by looking at my recent provincial election analyses for Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Alberta).

So what’s in store for those three provinces now?  Well, for the moment they seem headed in quite different directions.  In Alberta, there were a lot of headlines about the NDP government extending its tuition freeze for a third year, but the interesting part of the announcement was that the Government simultaneously launched a review of the tuition policy with a view to a long-term funding solution.  Now, given that this is a government with a heck of a deficit that isn’t going to be solved through rising oil and gas prices any time soon, you’d have to think this “review” is in fact likely to end up twelve months from now with institutions being able to move somewhat on fees.  Because while the provincial government has been compensating institutions for the freeze, that still leaves income growth at around 2%. As we all know, Canadian universities start to seize up whenever the growth rate drops below 4% –  so there’s a gap there that has to be plugged somehow, and higher fees are almost certainly at least part of the solution.

In Saskatchewan, fees aren’t much on the agenda but the level of government support is.  Resource price falls mean that the government is running a $14 billion budget on $13 billion of revenue, so the province is talking very seriously about shrinking the size of government by 7% or so over the next two years. PSE will undoubtedly get its fair share of that cut; and that’s on top of a 7% cut over the last two years.  Yet so fast was expenditure growth in the first couple of years of this decade that even this massive cut will only bring the province back to the level of spending it was at in 2011.  The government speaks of looking for “transformational change” in PSE but the likelier result will be a lot of unpleasant but ultimately non-transformational corner-cutting and muddling through.

Manitoba feels like the place where fireworks are likeliest.  It has a new Conservative government with a mandate to pull back at least somewhat on public finances. Post-secondary education, one of the previous NDP government’s favourite files, seems likely to get hit the worst.  But the new government has some tools to mitigate these losses: tuition (currently 3rd lowest in the country) can rise, and a ghastly, wasteful post-graduation tax credit can be scrapped.  The former seems more likely than the latter, but both are possible.

Meanwhile, the University of Manitoba Faculty Association, the union which sicced CAUT on its own members when an Economics department dispute over curriculum didn’t go the way some people wanted, has decided that now is the PERFECT TIME to hold a strike to support a wage demand of – are you ready for this? – 6.9% over one year.

If UMFA’s serious about this demand, it could be a long strike.  And that’s not because the demand is unaffordable – in theory anything’s affordable if you cut back enough on library budgets or whatever.  It’s simply politics: the new government is not going to go easy on any para-public body which appears to be out of step with the new mood of thrift.  Just imagine the scene at the MB legislature if the institution were to cave on this:

U of M: “We would like some more money please.  We’re kind of strapped on account of having just given the faculty a 6.9% raise”

Conservative Govt: “HAHAHAHAHAHA Come back when you learn to manage your way out of a wet paper bag”

Agreeing to such a rise would be like signing a suicide note.  Unlikely to happen.

Have a good weekend.

March 21

An Orgy of Bad Policy in Saskatchewan

Two weeks from today, voters in Saskatchewan go to the polls.  You may be forgiven for not having noticed this one coming since it has barely registered in the national press.  And that’s not just because of the usual central Canadian obliviousness, or because it’s a fly-over province; it’s also because this is one of the least competitive match-ups since…. well, since the last time Brad Wall won re-election.  CBC’s poll currently gives the Saskatchewan Party a 25 point lead over the New Democrats.

Normally, when provinces go to the polls I do a detailed look at their post-secondary platforms.  It hardly seems worth it here.  Neither the Liberals nor the Greens have a chance of taking a seat so frankly, who cares?  The NDP has released a platform full of promises large and small (my particular favourite: on page 34, they pledge to put more refrigerators in public liquor stores in order to provide more cold beer options), but did not even bother to put out a costing document, which suggests not even they think they have a hope in hell of winning on April 4.  For their part, the Saskatchewan Party has put out a manifesto, which basically says “elect us and the good times will continue to roll”: no strong vision of the future, just a recounting of past glories and four small promises that add up to a total of $110M over four years.  The only manifesto I can think of that comes close to this in sheer complacency is the Liberal Red Book from the 2000 federal election.  Which, given that oil is still around $40/barrel, is quite something.

But hey, when you’re writing a daily blog, sometimes you need an easy target. So here goes:

The Saskatchewan NDP platform on PSE is pretty awful.  They want to “improve funding for post-secondary institutions” (By how much?  Who knows?  There’s no costing document).  They want to offer everyone a $1,000 rebate on tuition, which everyone knows is regressive.  They also want to convert all provincial loans, but this actually isn’t much money since Saskatchewan aid is mostly grant.  But, get this: they also want to get rid of interest on outstanding provincial loans, which is just a whole mountain of dumb since it has no effect whatever on access, and rewards people for choices they made years ago.  Offering to help borrowers in distress is sensible; a blanket interest subsidy for people who have already finished their studies implies the manifesto-writer has suffered some kind of head trauma.

Still, in some ways, the NDP platform looks good in comparison to what the Saskatchewan Party is offering.  As some of you probably know, for the past decade or so the Government of Saskatchewan has offered a generous set of tax credits to graduates who stay within the province.  Essentially, if you are a university graduate you can reduce your payable provincial taxes by $2,000/year for the first four years that you live in the province, and $4,000 per year for the next three (if you don’t earn enough in a given year to use all of that, you can carry forward to a future year; amounts are reduced slightly for college graduates).  Add to this the usual panoply of federal and provincial tax credits, and you realize that Saskatchewan graduates who stay in the province are receiving more in tax benefits than they ever pay in tuition.

If that formulation sounds familiar, it should – it’s exactly the way Ontario finally figured out it could market itself as having “free tuition” to low-income students without spending a penny.  But the Saskatchewan Party, instead of following Ontario and transferring money to a more front-ended set of incentives, has decided to double-down on the back-end.  Their big post-secondary-related pledge is to allow graduates to take up to $10,000 unused rebate money and use it as a down payment on the purchase of a house.

Yes, I am serious.  Check it out.  Page 8.

I mean, in a way, it’s genius; a twofer tax credit, combining the middle-class’ two fondest wishes: that government subsidize both their education and their house purchases.  And if you assume the basic premise that graduates need financial inducements to stay in the province, why not make that financial inducement in the form of a housing subsidy, which physically ties graduates to the province?

But in another, deeper, way it’s a travesty.  If the Saskatchewan Party has done such a fantastic job managing the economy, why does the province still need this financial inducement to get people to stay in the province?  If the argument is that “young people need a break”, why give so much to those likeliest to succeed (i.e. university grads) and nothing to those least likely (those who never make it to PSE)?

So, yeah, Saskatchewan.  Yet another province with a bi-partisan consensus that all the specified PSE goodies should go to students and graduates rather than, you know, the actual institutions who provide the education.  Raspberries all around.

June 08

The Ongoing Goings-On in Saskatchewan

On Wednesday, former University of Saskatchewan President Ilene Busch-Vishniac filed an $8.5 million dollar wrongful-dismissal/defamation lawsuit against Saskatchewan Premier Brad Wall, former Advanced Education Minister Rob Norris, and a half-dozen members of the University’s Board of Governors.  Yeah, really, $8.5 million.  And if you read her affidavit (available here) she has a decent case.  Not an open-and-shut one, but a case nonetheless.

What’s new in this affidavit?  Three things:

1)      There was a communication gap between then-provost Brett Fairbairn and Busch-Vishniac.   We already knew the two spoke on the Tuesday night of the affair, agreeing that School of Public Health (SPH) Dean Robert Buckingham should be relieved of his position, though they remained undecided as to whether additional measures should be taken.  Busch-Vishniac empowered Fairbairn to decide, promising she would back whatever decision he made.  Later that evening, on the colossally stupid advice of the HR department, Fairbairn decided to dismiss Buckingham from the university, altogether.

We already knew that Fairbarin updated Busch-Vishniac by email on Tuesday night, and sent another email the next morning following Buckingham’s dismissal.  However, Busch-Vishniac claims that despite these two emails, it was not until late the following afternoon, hours after the story had broken, that she understood Fairbairn had dismissed Buckingham outright.

This point is central to Busch-Vishniac’s claim that there was no cause to dismiss her, because, according to her, she was never in favour of outright dismissal, and she moved to reverse the “blunder” (her words) as soon as she discovered it.  However, the only way she could have moved as quickly as possible was if Fairbairn’s two emails had both been unclear.  But this is not what she says, specifically; rather, she claims she “did not understand” that this was the decision, which suggests that Busch-Vishniac simply skimmed the emails, and didn’t grasp or process their full content.

Truthfully, this seems a bit weak as a defence.  Fairbairn’s account of the Tuesday meeting is clear: at that meeting, the possibility of dismissing Buckingham outright was discussed, and there is no indication in either his or Bush-Vishniac’s account that this option was ruled-out.  In other words, a priori, she doesn’t seem to have had a problem with the idea of firing Buckingham outright.

2)      Busch-Vishniac really dislikes the MacKinnons.  It’s no secret that Busch-Vishniac’s predecessor, Peter MacKinnon, preferred Richard Florizone (now President at Dalhousie) as his successor, and it’s no secret that the transition between MacKinnon and Busch-Vishniac was slightly less than serene.  It is also a matter of public record that Janice MacKinnon, the province’s former finance minister, who held an academic position in the SPH, was pretty much first-out-of-the-gate to defend Buckingham, and blast Busch-Vishniac, on the Wednesday, after the story broke. 

However, Busch-Vishniac’s affidavit accuses the pair of something far more sinister: namely, the affidavit claims that the MacKinnons co-wrote Buckingham’s “Silence of the Deans” document, which instigated the move to dismiss him, and that they also instructed him on the timing of the document’s release, and its distribution list.  All of this was – and I quote – “specifically intended to undermine Dr. Busch-Vishniac”.   No evidence for this claim is offered, and both MacKinnons fervently deny the allegation.

Thing is, neither of the MacKinnons is listed as a defendant, and the actual authorship of “Silence of the Deans” is immaterial to the case. There was simply no reason for Busch-Vishniac to place these accusations before the court, other than to give a two-fingered salute to a couple she doesn’t like.  Weird.

3)      Brad Wall and Rob Norris may have some ‘splainin’ to do.  Busch-Vishniac claims that Advanced Education Minister Rob Norris and Premier Brad Wall pressured the board to do some things that were hasty and rash: such as pressuring the Board to hold a meeting with inadequate notice (this is already a matter of public record), as well as – allegedly – asking for a second meeting that day, and excluding the President from it, or indeed firing her without cause.  Whatever you think of Busch-Vishniac’s handling of the affair, she makes a decent case in the affidavit that she did not receive due process.  One might argue that this is also true of Buckingham, but in law two wrongs don’t make a right.  And of course, it should be worrying to everyone if – as she alleges – a theoretically independent board bent to government demands so quickly and completely.

There is one final, related note: the genesis of this whole mess was Buckingham’s claim that SPH shouldn’t be merged into another faculty as part of the TransformUS prioritization process.  Many people at U of S backed this claim, while having no intelligent view on the matter because, hey, everybody hated prioritization, and supporting Buckingham was a way to stick it to The Man.

Post-affair, the University called in an external panel of experts to advise on the fate of the School.  They reported back last month, saying SPH wasn’t fulfilling its mission, and needed to be merged with another unit, pronto.  In other words, it turns out the TransformUS process (not to mention Busch-Vishniac and Fairbairn) was right about SPH all along.  How embarrassing.

July 21

University of Saskatchewan Detritus

We all remember this spring’s controversy at the University of Saskatchewan over the firing of Robert Buckingham, which resulted in the resignation of the University’s Provost, Brett Fairbairn, and the firing of the President, Ilene Busch-Vishniac.  Despite all the coverage, a number of key questions were never answered, like “how could anyone possibly think firing a tenured professor was a good idea?”  And, “who’s idea was it to fire him anyway – the Provost’s or the President’s?”

We now have more insight, as Fairbairn recently released a five-page letter providing his perspective on events.  Two key points from his account:

  • The decision to fire Buckingham as Dean was a group decision.  The Provost, “leaders responsible for Faculty Relations, HR internal legal expertise and Communications”, and the President (by phone) were all present.  But the key question of whether to dismiss him from the university altogether was referred to HR for further study.  At this point Busch-Vishniac told Fairbarin: “I will stand behind any actions you deem necessary and will not second-guess”.
  • The decision to fire him from both jobs was the HR department’s recommendation.

How HR came to this conclusion isn’t clear; Fairbairn notes that it had happened before at U of S in a case where there had been an irreparable breakdown in relations between employer and employee. Without knowing the case to which he’s referring, it’s hard to know what to make of this.  Certainly, the employer-employee relationship with Buckingham as a dean was irreparably damaged (which is why they were correct to fire him); it’s not at all clear that he couldn’t have remained as a faculty member since he wouldn’t have had any real contact with any of the superiors whose trust he had abused as Dean.  For whatever reason, Fairbairn decided to take the “expert advice” from HR, and did so without looping back to the communications people to get their input (which might have been valuable) or checking with Bush-Vishniac.

Far from backing up Fairbairn as promised, Busch-Vishniac threw him under the bus and asked for his resignation three days later.  That was emphatically the wrong call.  From the moment she gave the go-ahead for Buckingham’s dismissal, it was clear that either both of them would stay, or neither would.  Fairbairn decided to go, astutely noting that “the only thing worse than blame and recrimination among senior leaders is mutual recrimination among senior leaders”.

Fairbairn’s letter is a valuable peek into how crises get managed at universities.  I think it shows him as a manager with mostly the right instincts, but who erred in accepting some terrible advice from professionals who should have known better.  Others – mostly people who genuinely have no insight into how major organizations function – will probably see this distinction as irrelevant since the real crime was firing Buckingham as a Dean in the first place.  Former CAUT director James Turk, in particular, has made the “managers should have a right to criticise each other publicly” case – to which the correct response is: “and how much freedom did Turk allow his staff and executive to criticise his management as CAUT director?”.

If I were at the University of Saskatchewan, though, my main question after reading Fairbairn’s letter would be: “how is it that the HR department got off comparatively lightly?”  Food for thought.

May 16

Deans and Multiple Personality Disorders

Imagine two scenarios.  In the first, an academic is threatened with termination if he/she speaks out publicly against the university’s proposed strategic plan.  In the second, a manager is fired for disobeying a direct order from a superior about running down the company he/she works for.  For most readers, I’d guess the first scenario is abhorrent, and the second quite understandable (if perhaps somewhat harsh).  Yet both scenarios describe precisely what happened to University of Saskatchewan’s Dean, Robert Buckingham.

The Buckingham incident goes to the heart of a real live issue in Canadian universities: for whom do deans work – the President and Provost, or the faculty?  Are they management’s tool to keep faculty in line, or do they represent the interests of their faculty in the halls of the power?

I don’t think there’s much doubt in a legal sense that Deans answer to senior management rather than faculty.  But the way Deans are chosen usually incorporate a large amount of feedback from professors in that department, who want to make sure that the Dean is – to the extent possible – sympatico with their interests.  And whether the Dean is a likable figure or not, he/she is very much expected to fight for the interests of that faculty and its members when it comes to things like resource allocation.

So, to Saskatoon where, as part of the university’s restructuring process, the 5-year-old School of Public Health Buckingham headed was slated, along with the School of Dentistry and the college of Medicine, to become part of an enlarged Faculty of Medicine.  The School, which at least in its own eyes is pretty hot stuff having just received European accreditation for its program, was less than thrilled with the notion of being under the same roof as the College of Medicine, which has had a rough time with accreditation issues for the past few years.

Buckingham fought his corner spiritedly but quietly for several months.  When Deans were recently told that the time for chat was over, and it was time for all the managers to fall in line, Buckingham chose not to do so.  Instead, he wrote a letter (available here) that wound up in the StarPhoenix in which he effectively implied that: a) the President and Provost lacked courage, and b) that the College of Medicine was sub-standard.  Within the next 24 hours, Buckingham was not only removed as Dean, but was also fired as a tenured professor, and escorted from campus.

Now, given the high level of tension on campus, and that Buckingham was only a few weeks away from retirement, it might have made more sense to let this incident go with a reprimand (and indeed, after much media attention, and an emergency meeting called by Advanced Ed Minister, Rob Norris, the University “reconsidered and reversedparts of its initial decision).  But make no mistake, within a managerial capacity, it was a fire-able offense: you can’t have your Deans going off and running down their colleagues’ departments in public.

Simply put, the freedom of comment that one has as a faculty member doesn’t apply to management.  Buckingham’s line about “I’ve never seen academics be silenced like this” is somewhat disingenuous: Deans are management and held to a different standard.  Saskatchewan was within its rights to ditch him as a Dean; where they overstepped, and have since clawed back on their decision, was in firing him as a professor, because that raises legitimate issues of academic freedom.  As far as I know no professor has been dismissed for speaking out about university management since Norman Strax at UNB in 1968, and that’s not a place we want to go back to.

Both sides stepped over the line here, but it’s easy to see how it happened, and how it is likely to happen again.  At the end of the day, deans’ identities and allegiances are split between their role as academics and their role as administrators.  It’s a thankless and occasionally dangerous position.

March 11

The Effects of Freezing Administrative Salaries

I see that the University of Regina council has voted to freeze both administrative salaries and the growth of administrative positions, a recurrence of an ongoing meme which blames those hated administrators for the rising cost of education.  Because Regina’s administrative practices are relatively typical of Canadian universities, I thought I would test-drive this idea: how much have administrative salaries increased, and how much wiggle room would such a freeze provide?

(Full disclosure: In 2010 and 2011, HESA was contracted to the University of Regina; however, no one at U of R has the faintest idea I’m writing this post).

For data, I used the Statscan/CAUBO Financial Information of Universities, which shows that, over the period 2004/5 to 2010/11, Regina’s operating budget rose 35.6%; during that time, total compensation for Instruction (mainly profs’ wages) went up by 33.7%, while compensation in “Administration” went up by 52.4%.

Presto!  Prima facie evidence of bloat, right?

Well, maybe.  The problem with the “administration” category of compensation is that it covers a lot of ground.  It’s not just VPs offices; it also includes expenditures related to grants and contracts administration, co-op program administration, distance education support, as well as instructional technology and audio visual services (for a full explanation of this category, see here).  Increases in spending in those areas probably wouldn’t be seen as bloat by most people.  Unfortunately, Statscan does not break down expenditures to this level of detail, so we’ll stick with that 52.4% number – but remember, it comes with an asterisk.

Whilst administrative compensation growth has been higher than that for professors, bear in mind that the two budgets are very different in size.  Administrative salaries were 9% of operating budget in 2011; academic salaries were 45%.  Growth in academic compensation between 2005 and 2011 was actually greater than the entire administrative compensation budget in 2011.  There simply isn’t enough money in administrative compensation to provide much cushion to faculty if (or when) the money runs out.

That’s not to say one shouldn’t try, of course. Had total administrative compensation risen at “just” the rate of academic staff compensation, the university would have another $1.7 million to play with.  One can do a lot of good with $1.7 million.  But, at the same time, it amounts to only about 1% of the university’s operating budget.

To put it another way, the “excess” spending in administrative compensation over those six years accounts for only 4% of total operating budget growth during that time.  Reducing that compensation is likely a necessary part of any university-wide budgetary solution, but anyone who claims it’s anything like a complete solution needs a math lesson.  Painful cuts elsewhere are unavoidable.

August 30

Anticipating Demographic Shifts

I was in Regina last week speaking to the university’s senior management team about challenges in Canadian post-secondary education, when someone asked a really intriguing question.

“Given the changing demographics of Canada, with fewer traditional-aged students, are there any examples of good practice of universities altering their programming serving non-traditional students instead”?

I have to admit, I was stumped.

You’d think, for instance, that maritime universities, who have been facing demographic decline for quite some time, would have some experience of this, but they don’t, really. Think about it: when Memorial started hurting for students because of Newfoundland’s awful demographics, the main response was to lower tuition fees and begin raiding other nearby provinces for traditional-aged students. In the rest of the maritimes, they’ve been sucking traditional-aged students out of Ontario for a couple of decades now, and the primary solution to any shortfall now is to go looking for traditional-aged students in other parts of the world.

From Statistics Canada

There have, admittedly, been some advances recently in attracting non-traditional-aged students in Northern Ontario and the Prairies – specifically, Aboriginal students, who tend to arrive at university in their mid- to late-20s (often after having had children). But even here, what they are doing for the most part is trying to put in as many supports as possible so that they can be taught as if they were traditional, full-time students. One might conclude that universities are going to great lengths to avoid re-engineering themselves to serve older populations.

Taking demographics seriously means that some universities are going to have to move towards much more modular delivery of courses, more e-learning alternatives, and more evening courses. There are pockets of this, of course, but it hardly constitutes a major trend. Generally speaking, community colleges and polytechnics have been doing much better on this front than universities.

As the demographic shift continues, what happens if governments conclude that they should put more resources on lifelong learning and less on traditional-aged students? That possibility may open up some big opportunities for those institutions (mostly colleges) who have already invested heavily in this kind of delivery, and leave those institutions (mostly universities) who have not politically quite vulnerable.

August 26

Trust

It’s a big day at HESA, as it’s release day for our final report on the Consultation on the Expansion of Degree-granting in Saskatchewan that we’ve been working on for a few months (available here). I can’t tell you what it says before it comes out – but I would like to talk about one of the key themes of the report: trust.

If you issue degrees, people need to be able to trust that the degree means something. In particular, students need to know that a degree from a given institution will be seen as a mark of quality by employers; otherwise, the degree is worthless. Worldwide, the function of quality assurance agencies – third-parties giving seals of approval either to individual programs or to institutions generally (either by looking directly at quality or by looking at an institution’s internal quality control mechanisms) – is to assure the public that degrees are trustworthy.

In Canada, many people have looked askance at these bodies, seeing them as unnecessary bureaucratic intrusions. “We never needed these before,” people grumble. “Why do we need them now?”

To an extent, the grumblers have a point. Trust is usually earned through relationships. People in, say, Fredericton, trust UNB not because some agency tells them to trust it but because it’s been granting degrees for going on 200 years now; they’ve seen the graduates and can gauge the quality for themselves. This is true across most universities in Canada; they’re old, solid and hardly fly-by-night and people know who they are. And there tend not to be more than four in any given urban area, so pretty much everyone knows someone who went to school “X” and can thus gauge an institution’s quality directly.

But what happens when you let new players, like private universities or community colleges, into the degree-granting game? What happens when universities start having to look abroad for students? How can employers in Canada trust new players? How can employers in Turkey or Vietnam trust any Canadian university they’ve never heard of?

Canada was able to get away without quality assurance for so long mainly because our system of giving a relatively small number of large public universities a monopoly over degree-granting was well-suited to engendering trust – especially when 90% of their students were local. But open up degree-provision, or widen the scope of your student base, and suddenly trust isn’t automatic anymore. You need a third-party to give a seal of approval to replace the trust that used to come naturally.

Quality assurance isn’t anyone’s idea of fun. But it isn’t the frivolous, makework bureaucracy the grumblers criticize, either. Rather, it’s a rational response to changing patterns in the provision and consumption of higher education.