Across the world, we have more universities than ever
yet are also increasingly sceptical about their value.
What Are Universities For? presents a spirited, compelling argument
for rethinking the way we see these institutions, and why we need them.
Stefan Collini challenges the idea that universities must show their contribution to economic growth;
instead, he argues, we must recognize the inherent worth of intellectual enquiry,
and the complexity of harnessing this to immediate financial goals –
particularly in the case of the humanities,
which can seem the most difficult subjects to justify but may be among the most valuable.
Collini’s critiques of the higher education policies of successive
governments are devastating but constructive.
At a time when the future of higher education lies in the balance,
What Are Universities For? offers us a deeper, more persuasive understanding
of why universities matter – to everyone.
This book may be over a decade old, and some of the essays included even older,
but it is more relevant today than ever.
The first half is a thoughtful discussion of the history and purpose of universities in general.
This is followed by a series of reprinted essays,
dissecting various governmental initiatives in higher education.
The historical overview of the role, size and funding of universities from their inception is fascinating.
My personal experience is confined to being a student in the late 70s and early 80s,
and an academic during the 2000s.
Collini points out most people tend to think that universities
had always been the way they experienced them as a student, and only changed since then.
But of course, they have always been changing.
I am myself guilty of this view!
My seven year tenure as a student was during the time of no fees and full grant
(and fewer students and universities overall):
so no student debt, and only vacation-time jobs.
I would almost certainly not have gone to university under the current scheme,
as getting into any debt, let alone that much, would have been too terrifying.
I feel very lucky, but not guilty:
I have certainly since paid enough in taxes from good jobs to cover the costs!
I do think that current students should be similarly lucky,
particularly as the number of good jobs has not kept pace with the increase in student numbers.
(Even jobs that in the past would have required A-levels now seem to require
not just a Bachelors, but even a Masters degree: surely they are not that much more complex?
I often wonder if this degree-inflation is deliberately used to force people to go to university
and get into debt, so making them more willing to take rubbish jobs,
or if it is merely an unanticipated side-effect benefical to corporations and governments.)
Collini has a wide ranging and thoughtful discussion of what universities should be for.
What should students be taught? How should they be educated? And why?
He comes from the Humanities, which some argue are not “useful” subjects,
because they do not contribute directly to the economic health of the country.
I’m a scientist, and he thinks the arguments for these subjects are easier there.
They may be easier, but I think that makes them more damaging,
as it tends to encourage a focus on the economic, rather than educational or intellectual, benefits:
graduate employability, rather than better, more thoughtful, well-rounded citizens.
(If it’s just about job-specific skills, why not raise the status of apprenticeships instead?)
Caving to that economic focus can unintentionally strengthen the argument against the humanities.
In particular, Collini’s point is that at university, the student should “study”,
rather than be taught, or learn, a subject.
This perspective puts the onus on the student to do the work, in depth,
and not be a mere passive recipient of whatever the lecturer deems important,
merely regurgitating it for assessment.
The current insistence on increased “contact hours” (rather than private study)
and ever-increasingly detailed assessment encourages this attitude of regurgitation,
which helps parrots, but not growth.
We are now encouraged to treat students as “customers”,
where they pay a fee for the product of a degree certificate.
Many students will focus on the certificate outcome, not the process they need to go through to get it.
Rather than certificate seller, I prefer the metaphor of “personal trainer”:
the lecturers are providing opportunities, resources, and direction,
but the student has to do the (sometimes painful) work to achieve the desired goal.
No-one goes to a gym to get a certificate (maybe some do? I’ve never been to a gym!),
but rather to achieve fitness, understanding that this will require effort on their part.
After this excellent review of the state of universities, and their goals,
Collini fills the rest of the book with reprints of earlier articles,
which eviscerate various government schemes to measure the “quality” of universities’ performance.
These essays are also excellent, and pull no punches.
Collini argues that we should not measure
(rigid metrics designed by unqualified beancounters),
but rather judge (thoughtful analysis by qualified peers), performance.
There is a lot more excellent, thoughtful (and very well-written) material here.
I have just pulled out a few points that resonate most strongly with me.
Read this, and have good arguments to support universities beyond mere economic gain.
