A market in universities: one import the UK could do without?

Why the US funding model will cause British institutions more harm than good.

It is no surprise that the new Secretary of State for Business has led the charge to reduce the numbers of people going to university. To the chagrin of many Liberal Democrats at the time, this is precisely what Vince Cable said in opposition.

The cut in additional student numbers will do little for the social mobility which is allegedly a linchpin of the coalition government's higher education agreement. Universities now have to manage a £1bn reduction in funding, with David Willetts implying that student support is a burden on the taxpayer. Are these good enough reasons to transport the US model for the funding of higher education to England, as David Blanchflower suggests ("The case for higher university fees")?

The answer is almost certainly no. Unlike their US counterparts, the UK universities which are arguing for higher fees do not want to become private institutions. Rather, they want to have their cake and eat it: taxpayer funding for teaching, research, fee loans and student support, with the university then given the right to charge additional fees either upfront or through additional fee loans financed by bonds and commercial providers.

It is no surprise that the universities which want to compete on price and quality on the back of state funding are the ones that have the most socially exclusive profiles. By "quality", they mean not standards, but quality of the "student experience", based on small campuses where students study away from home and full-time. This is very far removed from the experience of most of the UK's two million students, over 40 per cent of whom study part-time, many of whom have to work to pay their way, and some of whom live at home to save money.

A quasi-US-style system would be certain to deliver inequity for most of the UK's higher education students. Like US health care, it would have outcomes that would be neither as equitable nor as productive as the UK's current system. In particular, a market based on state funding with higher tuition fees backed by private finance will have the inevitable outcome of delivering less resource to the universities that contribute most to social mobility. This is not a policy that the left would advocate for schools. Why should it be an acceptable outcome for UK universities and students?

The Westminster government could easily create a fairer funding system. By introducing a small (1-2 per cent) real rate of interest on student loans, similar to that applied in countries such as Norway, Denmark and Sweden, and by extending the period when graduates in England repay a contribution to the costs of their higher education, the Exchequer would benefit by £1bn per year.

This would be enough to fund many more students, avoid the cuts in higher education imposed by the deficit hawks and even extend fee and maintenance loans to part-time students who at the moment still have to pay their fees upfront. Fairer funding for all is on the table if the government (and the opposition) want to pursue it.

Pam Tatlow is chief executive of the university think tank million+

Felipe Araujo
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Hull revisited: What happens when a Brexit stronghold becomes City of Culture?

We report from Hull, to find out if you can replace the kind of nostalgia that led to a Leave vote with cultural investment.

At 75 metres long, the offshore wind turbine blade erected across Queen Victoria Square, in the heart of Hull, is a sculpture intended to mark a new chapter in the city’s history. For the next 12 months, Hull, a city of more than a quarter of a million people in the northeast of England, will be the UK’s City of Culture.

The 28-tonne blade hails from the local Siemens plant. The German technology company employs around 1,000 people in the area, making it Hull’s biggest single employer.

Seen up close in this context – laid dormant in the middle of a town square instead of spinning up in the air generating energy – the structure is meant to remind passersby of a giant sea creature. It is also, I’m told, an allusion to Hull’s rich maritime history.


All photos: Felipe Araujo

Nostalgia is a big thing in this part of the country. At one point, Hull was the UK’s third largest port but technology and privatisation drastically changed that. The battle over cod fishing with Iceland in the waters of the North Sea 40 years ago has also dealt a major blow to a region with a long and proud trawling tradition.

People here still talk about a bygone era when the fishing industry provided jobs for everyone and there was enough money to go around.

Fast forward to 2017, and the country’s new capital of culture is the same city that voted 67 per cent in favour of leaving the EU last June. Its new-found prestige, it seems, is not enough to erase years of neglect by a political class “too busy for commoners like us”, as one resident puts it.

“More than a message to Brussels, it [the Brexit vote] was a message to Westminster,” Paul Leeson-Taylor, a filmmaker born and bred in Hull, tells me. “For the first time in a long time people in Hull felt like they had the chance to change something, and they took it.”

But while speaking to people on the high street and hanging out with locals at the Community Boxing Club in Orchard Park, one of the city’s most deprived areas, there is one word that consistently popped up in conversation – more than any specific policy from Westminster or the much-hated rules “dictated” by Brussels. Foreigners.

According to official figures, Hull’s population is 89.1 per cent white British. Still, immigration is big on people’s minds here.

During my two-day stay in the city, I find myself being the only black person in most places I visit – I’m certainly the only black guy at the boxing club. So when someone begins a sentence with “I’m not racist but…”, I know a tirade on immigrants is about to ensue.

“There are just too many of them,” Nick Beach, an estate agent whose Polish clientele is a big part of his business, tells me as he is about to teach a boxing class to local children. Beach was born in Shepherd’s Bush, in West London, but has been living in Hull for the last 20 years.

“When I go down there these days and go into Westfield shopping centre, it is very rare you get an English person serving you now,” he says. “I just find it disappointing that you go into your capital city and you are a minority there.”

These are the much-discussed “left behind”, a white working-class community that has gained particular prominence in a time of Brexit and Donald Trump. Under economic pressure and facing social change, they want to have their say in running a country they claim to no longer recognise.

For Professor Simon Lee, a senior politics lecturer at the University of Hull, immigration is only a superficial layer when it comes to explaining the resentment I witness here. For him, the loss of the empire 70 years ago is still something that as a country Britain hasn’t come to terms with.

“The reason for us to be together as a United Kingdom has gone, so what is the project?”

As destiny would have it, a foreign company will now play a major role on Hull’s economic future, at least in the short term. In the wake of the Brexit vote, there were widespread fears Siemens would pull out of the region and take its factory elsewhere. With the massive blade looming large in the background, Jason Speedy, director of the blade factory in Hull, assures me that isn’t the case.

“The Brexit decision has made no difference. We have made our investment decision, so Siemens, together with the Association of British Ports, has put in £310m. It’s all full steam ahead.”

As Hull becomes the country’s cultural hub for the next few months, the hope is that its residents stop looking back and start looking forward.

For Professor Lee, though, until there is a complete change in the power structures that run the country, the north-south divide will remain – with or without the EU. “The way you kill nostalgia is to have something new,” he said. “The reason why people here are nostalgic is because there is nothing to replace it with.”

Felipe Araujo is a freelance journalist based in London. He writes about race, culture and sports. He covered the Rio Olympics and Paralympics on the ground for the New Statesman. He tweets @felipethejourno.