Our economy would benefit from sending students to study abroad

Britain reaps the benefits of welcoming overseas students to study in the UK - but internationalism works both ways. We should also be enabling UK students to study abroad.

UK students don't venture into foreign universities as much as their overseas counterparts. While this won't come as a surprise given the country's language issues, the recent publication of the "Outward Student Mobility Strategy" by the UK Higher Education International Unit (IU) has emphasised the urgency of the situation.

The strategy has been developed as an original request from the Minister of Universities and Science, David Willetts, and highlights the importance of raising awareness at a national level of the benefits associated with studying, volunteering or working abroad. In addition, it raises the issue of making this opportunity widely available to students from both a financial (i.e. scholarships) and academic (i.e. credit recognition) point of view.

Some might say the reluctance of UK students to study abroad ultimately benefits the economy, stopping a brain drain - something that Southern European countries are currently experiencing. Coincidentally, the countries with higher rates of student mobility are those least “Anglophone-oriented”, such as Spain, France and Germany. Many continental students (mostly under the Erasmus programme) use overseas experience as a means to improve their knowledge of English and also as the best alternative to a gap year, which is not so widespread in Continental Europe as it is in the UK or the US.

I don’t believe there is a risk of brain drain in the UK. The nation's economy is dynamic and attracts more international workers than any other European country. However, I do think that in the long run this lack of interest among UK students in investing a few months studying abroad could be detrimental. It is not purely the academic aspect of this experience that is valuable for students, but also the chance to be immersed in the culture and everyday life in their host country. It enables them to understand different societies and their ways of life, a better perspective of the role the UK plays at a global level, exposure to fresh thinking and ideas, and access to new networks of contacts.

I have been working on the internationalisation of university students since 1996. Back then, student mobility was perceived as the privilege of just a few. Throughout the years we have built bridges between Latin American and European universities and seen real change and growth. When Santander Universities began its activity in the UK in 2007, we knew that the contacts between UK and Latin-American universities were not as frequent and numerous as with other areas of the world, such as the USA, Asia or Australia. Today things have changed and those contacts have increased exponentially. Yet there is still tremendous potential which has not been fully developed. Economies such as Chile or Brazil grow at a yearly rate of around 5 per cent. Middle-class populations are expanding rapidly and have a particular interest in higher education. UK firms can prosper in Latin America, and not only in Brazil, but also Colombia, Mexico and Chile.

There is a need for employees who understand these markets, either by speaking the language, having lived in those countries previously, or both. A graduate who has recently been in, for instance, Chile and can speak Spanish, will be a great asset to a company wanting to export their products to Chile or expand in that market. The same rules may be applied to universities. Many Latin American students tend to choose the USA when studying abroad for proximity and reasons of cultural affinity.

However, those who choose the UK seldom regret making that decision. There is a keen interest from Latin American students to study in the UK, but not enough promotion of UK universities in those countries. A bigger marketing effort is needed to entice students into choosing the UK for their postgraduate or Master's courses.

There is also the need to provide financial support for UK students who wish to take the step towards studying abroad. This is where private institutions play an important role. Companies with a global presence such as Santander, with strong links both in the UK and Latin America, should commit themselves to helping those students to study and carry out research abroad. This financial support can come in many different shapes and sizes: from scholarships to travel grants, funding of special projects or PhDs, bilateral exchange programmes etc. All stakeholders involved, government, universities and the private sector, have a responsibility to increase contact and build networks if a hugely important opportunity for the UK is not to be missed.

Luis Juste is Director of Santander Universities UK

The Graduate School of Economics building at UNAM (Universidad Nacional Autonoma de Mexico). Photograph: Omar Torres/Getty Images.
Luis Juste, Director, Santander Universities UK
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Keep the Burkini, ban the beach

Beaches are dreadful places. Maybe it would just be easier to ban them.

To hell with political correctness, I'm just going to say it. I think women who wear burkinis to the beach are silly. I also, for that matter, think women who wear bikinis to the beach are silly. Not because of what they're wearing – women, quite obviously, should be able to wear whatever the hell they want without interference from eyebrow-furrowing douchecanoes and neighborhood bigots whose opinions are neither relevant nor requested. No, my problem is with the beach. 

Beaches are dreadful places. I question the judgement of anyone who chooses to go, of their own free will, to a strip of boiling sand that gets in all your squishy bits, just to lie down. I associate beaches with skin cancer and sunstroke and stickiness and sharks. As a neurotic, anxious goth who struggles with the entire concept of organised fun, even the idea of the beach distresses me. I won't go and you can't make me. Especially given that if I did go, whatever I chose to wear, some fragile man somewhere whose entire identity depends on controlling how the women around him behave would probably get outraged and frightened and try to ban me.

Men love to have opinions on what women should wear on their holidays. Nipples are not to be tolerated, and burkinis are now an invitation to Islamophobia, so I can only imagine how my grumpy summer goth robes would go down. The annual summer storm over women's beach attire has a xenophobic twist this year after burkinis – the swimsuit alternative for women who want to conform to a “modest” Islamic dress code – were banned on many beaches in France (although one specific one, in the town of Villeneuve-Loubet, has been overturned by a test ruling in the country’s highest court).

Not to be outdone, Nicholas Sarkozy has promised to institute nationwide legislation against the “provocative” garment if he's re-elected as president, jumping gleefully on the bandwagon brought to global attention by race riots in Corsica. Photos have emerged of Nice police officers apparently forcing a sunbathing Muslim woman to strip down and issuing her with a penalty slip. I can only imagine what that poor woman must have felt as the state swooped down on her swimsuit, but hey, Sarkozy says that public humiliation of Muslim women is a vital part of French values, and women's symbolic experience is always more important than our actual, lived experience. There are many words for this sort of bullying, but Liberty does not come into it, and nor does Equality. Fraternity, of course, is doing just fine.

Whatever women wear, it's always provocative to someone, and it's always our fault – particularly if we're also seen to be shamelessly enjoying ourselves without prior permission from the patriarchy and the state. If we wear too little, that's a provocation, and we deserve to be raped or assaulted. If we wear too much, that's a provocation, and we deserve racist abuse and police harassment. If we walk too tall, speak to loud or venture down the wrong street at night, whatever we're wearing, that's a provocation and we deserve whatever we get. The point of all this is control – the policing of women's bodies in public, sometimes figuratively, and sometimes literally. It's never about women's choices – it's about how women's choices make men feel, and men's feelings are routinely placed before women's freedom, even the simple freedom to wear things that make us feel comfortable as we queue up for overpriced ice cream. It's not about banning the Burkinis, or banning the bikini. It's about stopping women from occupying public space, curtailing our freedom of expression, and letting us know that whoever we are, we are always watched, and we can never win.

If you ask me, the simplest thing would just be to ban the beach. I consider people on the beach a personal provocation. Yes, I grew up in a seaside town, but some of the beach people come from far away, and they aren't like me, and therefore I fear them. The very sight of them, laying around all damp and happy, is an active identity threat to me as an angry goth, and that means it must be personal. As far as I'm concerned the beach is for smoking joints in the dark in winter, snogging under the pier and swigging cheap cider from the two-litre bottle you've hidden up your jumper. That's all the beach is good for. Ban it, I say. 

I do, however, accept – albeit grudgingly – that other people have different experiences. Some people actually like the seaside. And given that I am neither a screaming overgrown toddler with affectless political ambitions nor a brittle, bellowing xenophobe convinced that anything that makes me uncomfortable ought to be illegal, I have learned to tolerate beach people. I may never understand them. That's ok. The beach isn't for me. Not everything has to be for me. That's what it means to live in a community with other human beings. As performative Islamophobia and popular misogyny bake on the blasted sand-flats of public discourse, more and and more conservatives are failing to get that memo. I'd suggest they calm down with an ice lolly and a go on the Ferris wheel – but maybe it'd be easier just to ban them. 

Laurie Penny is a contributing editor to the New Statesman. She is the author of five books, most recently Unspeakable Things.