For academic researchers, there is one headline figure in the report Value for Money: the student perspective, published this week. Although this particular statistic is bound to be ignored in all mainstream media coverage of the report, it states that 70% of students either “definitely” or “mostly” agree that their tuition fees should support “academic research related to [their] subject”. Students, in other words, want their lecturers to succeed as researchers, and are prepared to underwrite these efforts. Only 18% disagree.
We have learned over the past year how easy it can be to harvest grumpy quotes from disaffected students. We have also heard politicians and commentators endlessly rehearse assertions about the supposedly poor value for money of many degrees. Amid this morass of hyperbole and bile, Value for Money: the student perspective, produced by a consortium of students’ unions and based on a survey of over 5,000 students and 500 recent graduates, offers some precious shards of sense.
As we might expect, the messages are not entirely rosy. On the overall question of whether students perceive that their courses represent good value for money, only 38% agreed, while 44% disagreed. These figures are consistent with the finding from last year’s Higher Education Policy Institute survey, imprinted into the minds of politicians and newspaper columnists, of 35% “value for money” satisfaction. So there is an issue here, and this has been endorsed by the Office for Students, which has a commitment to “value for money” written into its mandate. But maybe this report also includes some signals towards solutions.
For a start, it helps us to unravel what students understand when they are asked about value for money. The picture here is far from clear. For instance, how might we account for the fact that only 70% of Scottish students feel they are getting value for money? The mainstream media has reported this as a high number; however, when we consider that Scottish tuition fees are precisely £0, one starts to wonder about the perceptions of the remaining 30%. Granted, it was a small sample, and some of them may have been paying English fees, but what more do they want? For a second example, consider the disparity in views between English and international students. The latter subsidise the former, yet they report significantly higher levels of satisfaction on the question of value for money.
Furthermore, the figures suggest some instructive misconceptions about university finances. Take the statistic that 24% of students do not think that their fees should fund “university management costs”. One explanation for this figure is that there is a higher number of edu-anarchists among our student body than previously acknowledged. Another—perhaps more plausible—is that many students believe universities have other sources of funds that can cover all that stuff. Maybe such students assume that the state is funding universities rather more than is the case.
This suggests, as the report’s authors also argue, that greater transparency about university finances may be beneficial on all sides. There will always be some students who divide £9,250 by their number of contact hours and dash off a stinking letter to The Telegraph. Indeed we now also know that 10% of students evidently do not want any library resources. (I mean who cares, really, about books and journals when all you’re after is a degree and a job?) But the majority of students are more than capable of thinking carefully—and critically—through questions of cross-subsidy and university management.
This may even present a way forward on the thorny matter of vice-chancellors’ salaries. If we accept the Russell Group’s calculation, that its average vice-chancellor’s salary absorbs 0.05% of the respective university’s turnover, then each student is contributing roughly £4.63 to those salaries. For some, to be sure, that may be £4.62 too much; for the rest, one could reasonably hope that any VC could make a case for an impact on the student experience equivalent to the cost of a cup of coffee a term.
There may also be lessons here for the Labour Party. That gap between satisfaction with value for money in Scotland and England is substantial, but is it really worth the cost attached to abolishing tuition fees south of the border? And is it worth the risk of under-funding, especially when this report provides such powerful evidence of the value students place on low staff-student ratios, high-quality learning resources, employability support, and so forth? As I read this report, the key lesson is one of communication, not financial revolution.
At its best, the value for money debate may help to focus afresh on the nature and values of the university. As this report demonstrates, the discourse of value for money does not need to be as reductive and punitive as it has appeared in much recent criticism. Most students are unquestionably committed to the institutions in which they have chosen to invest their time and money, wanting them to succeed. A majority—58%—approve even of their fees being committed to “capital expenditure”. Indeed if I have one criticism of this survey, it is that students were not asked about the value to them of their university’s reputation or international standing. Responses on that score would have been fascinating.
So Value for Money: the student perspective, for all of the challenges it presents, represents an important step towards more meaningful debate. Students want their universities to flourish, just as they want to support their lecturers as researchers. While many who work in universities worry about increased financial constraint on the horizon, an openness to dialogue with our most important stakeholders—our students—still holds the potential to take the sector forward.
* This piece was first published in Research Fortnight