<p>An interesting article that appeared recently in The Economist (a weekly British publication). It's perhaps long, but seems relevant for the current thread.</p>
<p>When universities depend on taxpayers, their independence and standards suffer:</p>
<p>IT IS depressing to visit Oxford or Cambridge these days. The old buildings are so wonderfully grand that they highlight the cheap, ugly and badly kept new ones. The intellectual history is stunning, too: this is where Newton pondered gravity, and Occam honed his razor. But these days academics at Britain's two finest universities are a harried, ill-paid lot; salaries start at a mere £14,139 ($25,733). </p>
<p>Few disagree that both universities are living off the past, in everything from cash to reputation. The colleges' wine cellars are better than the kitchens, quips one don. The port and claret were laid down in happier times, when cash was flush and planning for the future mattered. But the food that goes with them is often dismal: that must be bought out of current income, which is usually earmarked already for everything from maintaining ancient buildings to supplementing salaries.</p>
<p>Yet Oxford and Cambridge are still in relatively good shape, thanks largely to their structure of self-governing, self-financing colleges. This limits the power of bureaucrats, provides independently managed money and ensures some protection for the original and the excellent. Other British universities have much worse problems. </p>
<p>To begin with, they have little or no endowment income to fall back on. The combined investments of Oxford and Cambridge are £4 billion; the rest of the British university system has £1.7 billion to play with. In America, Harvard alone has twice Britain's total. The funding gapthe hole in the universities' collective accounts created by the unfunded expansion of the past 20 yearsis around £10 billion. </p>
<p>It is not just that money is short. The price and quantity of courses are state-controlled, in a system more suited to Soviet central planning than to a modern democracy. And as with other planned economies, the result of government intervention is increasingly unsatisfactory. In Britain, over 30 years, universities have gone from being almost wholly autonomous, with state-financed block grants handed out at arm's length, to becoming branch offices of a government ministry. </p>
<p>Admissions, too, bring a whiff of the old Soviet system. The government is convinced that more working-class students, including many with few formal qualifications, should go to university. Its ultimate target is 50% of 18-30-year-olds by 2010, and it is getting there fast. Figures released this week show that the number of students in higher education has risen in just one year from 43% to nearly 45% of the relevant age cohort. In 1979, the percentage of school-leavers going on to higher education was just 12.4%.</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>The story of British higher education is less about expansion than inflation of qualifications. University degrees mean less and less and there are more and more of them. The rot set in in 1992, when the Conservative government allowed the polytechnicslocally based institutions that originally specialised in vocational teachingto relabel themselves universities. That created a panoply of new academic courses, many of dubious merit, and kicked away a vital pillar of the higher education system, between the purely vocational further education colleges and the fully academic universities. This trend towards uniformity has disastrously weakened higher education in Britain. </p>
<p>Hence the importance of the government's proposed reform of university finance, which will allow a modest liberalisation of tuition fees. Instead of the current flat rate of £1,125, universities will be allowed to charge up to £3,000. The scheme is festooned with carrots, chiefly easy terms for poor students, in order to forestall a revolt by the government's nominal supporters in Parliament.</p>
<p>Critics say the new fees will create an unmanageable debt burden. Yet a broadly similar system in Australia has not had this effect: graduates pay back the loans when they are earning enough.</p>
<p>Woes across the Channel
The present picture in Britain may be dismal, but misery is relative. Strolling happily through the Oxbridge quadrangles, and in the bustling corridors of less beautiful British universities, are 12,000 undergraduates from other European Union (EU) countries. Their home universities are in a still worse state: not only more overcrowded, but with barely a vestige of direct teaching. Oxford and Cambridge, more than other British universities, still offer undergraduate students close attention from a designated don. </p>
<p>The system is threadbare and arguably wasteful, especially as many students do little to prepare for their supervisions. But at least it happens. At France's best-known university, the Sorbonne, a translation seminar at the start of last term had 80 registered students. Too many, said the teacher superciliously. Half of you have to leave. When we are down to 40 I'll start teaching. Foreigners will go first.</p>
<p>In Germany, too, where professors enjoy the status of tenured civil servants, conditions are frequently dreadful. A current scandal is the Blockseminaran ingenious system whereby an academic turns up briefly at the university and delivers an entire term's teaching in the space of a weekend, before returning to the unhurried pursuit of private knowledge. </p>
<p>Similar stories come from Spain and Italy, where universities are plagued by rigidity and corruption. Last year, students at Rome's Sapienza University were found to have paid up to 3,000 ($3,400) to pass their exams; and a professor at the University of Bari was arrested for demanding sexual favours in exchange for getting candidates onto the psychology course. </p>
<p>In effect, universities in these countries have become government-owned degree mills. Their aim is to get the greatest number of young people in and out for the least money and trouble. Really determined students may fight their way through to gain a professor's attention, win a research scholarship and start doing some real work, probably in postgraduate study. The others will arrive in the labour market, qualification in hand, feeling that their mostly middle-class parents have something to show for their taxes. </p>
<p>It is not all gloom and doom. Most countries have islands of excellence: German postgraduate engineering faculties, for example, or the French grandes écoles, fiercely competitive and independent. Finland and Holland have largely managed to keep quality up and bureaucracy down. But for the most part, universities in the larger countries of continental Europe are a dreadful warning of the consequences of nationalisation.</p>
<p>No wonder, then, that British and European academics cast envious and wondering eyes at the American university system. It manages both quantity and quality: more than 60% of American high school graduates at least start some form of tertiary education. And it keeps standards high, too. The European Commission recently published a painstaking ranking of the world's best universities, compiled by researchers in Shanghai. Of the top 50, all but 15 were American. From Europe, only Oxford and Cambridge made it into the top 10; from other EU countries, no university ranks higher than 40. </p>
<p>The American system is not flawless. The diversity which makes the system so dynamic also leaves it vulnerable to abuse. In the humanities, intellectual fashion seems bizarrely distant from the real world. Many bad ideasnotably political correctnessstarted life as American campus fads. And budget pressures squeeze the system when times are tough. This year, the axe has fallen hard on California's public universities.
...
Degrees of difference
Why does America succeed where Europe fails? The most important factor is diversity. American higher education is not just more varied, but has less of the crippling snobbery and resentment that accompanies variety in, say, Britain. At the bottom of the pyramid are community colleges, offering inexpensive, flexible, job-focused courses for millions of Americans each year. They are pretty basic, and Britons sniff at them. But the difference in mentality, says Martin Trow, an observer of both the British and American education systems, is that in America something is seen as better than nothing. </p>
<p>(Article truncated due to length)
Jan 22nd 2004
From The Economist print edition</p>