Originally published at forbes.com here on 7/25/13
Taking Five Years
These days, only 49% of students that enter one of our America’s Best Colleges will graduate on-time, if at all. Now that the mantra calls everyone to college – it is, after all, largely considered a ticket to the middle class – what does that mean for the nearly half of college degree holders who are underemployed?
More and more students are taking five years to complete what have historically been four-year programs. This gap is especially noticeable in public schools. The result: extra year of costs, plus a year of wages and on-the-job experience lost.
There are many legitimate reasons to take five years to get through a traditionally four-year degree. Perhaps a student is financing his own education and needs to slow down the course load in order to work his way through school. Maybe a student is participating in a “co-op” or internship opportunity during the academic year, and falls a semester behind in studies. There is always the case of a student who is closed out of a prerequisite class that won’t be offered again for another year, or faces similar systemic challenges.
Public vs. Privates
Legitimate reasons, all, but it appears the private schools are much less affected. Private school students are more likely to have their education financed by their parents, and therefore don’t feel the need to work part or full time to pay their way through school. But certainly students at private schools take on internships, or due to small class size pressures, miss out on a course that they need.
Private schools do a better job, in general, with graduating students. The average 4-year graduation rate of our list of private schools was 59% while at publics it was 32%. Beyond that, the vast majority of those that do graduate from private schools do so in four years (over 80%), while almost half of graduating students at public schools take five or more. Arizona State University, the largest school in our list, graduates 57% of its students in 6 years according to 2011 U.S. Department of Education statistics. Of those that graduate, roughly 44% take longer than four years.
It is easy to say that the cost of college is to blame for this difference. The average tuition at a private school is nearly four times greater than that of its public counterpart. Dr. Richard Vedder, the director of The Center for College Affordability and Productivity, points to the simple economic principle of supply and demand. “When something costs more, consumers will conserve on that good,” he says. “Because private schools cost more, parents are more concerned with their students getting through in four years. This establishes competition among private schools to have high graduation rates to attract students. A parent is much less likely to pay $34,000 each year for five years than for four.
Those Were the Best Days of Our Lives
It is not unreasonable to think of attending university as consuming a good. For many people, these are the best years of their lives as suddenly students find freedom in ways they never knew possible. The National Survey of Student Engagement (NSSE) tracks students’ average weekly time use. According to the NSSE results, both first-year students and seniors at private schools more frequently participated in deep learning activities than their counterparts at public schools. This speaks to both the nature of private schools as typically being more rigorous as well as to the culture at private schools of no nonsense (or less nonsense anyway.)
College is fun. As a current student I can vouch for this. We have access to social opportunities hard to come by in “the real world”. Getting back to our cost argument, because students are paying nearly four times more to consume this culture than students at public, students at private schools will consume less of these social activities and focus on getting through school in four years. As public schools are funded heavily by taxpayer money, Vedder says “It is one thing to subsidize investments in human capital, it is another to subsidize students to engage in social activities.”
College as a Bomb Shelter
With a bleak job market, students look for alternatives to the pressures and hardships of the job hunt. A simple alternative is to stay in school. Maybe a student suddenly realizes how nice it would be to take an extra math class, or that art course they’ve been meaning to take but never had time, and stick around a little longer. Students are staying in college longer to avoid the hardships of the real world, the scary decisions, and are able to defer student loan payment a little longer. Better yet, many students are going onto graduate school as a way to buffer themselves from the real world hoping that at the end of the time we’ll be experiencing a more favorable job market.
What can we do about this problem? It seems that the public higher education establishment has high incentive to keep its students around as long as possible. This is not the case for the top private schools, who are competing for the top students with the best of the best public schools, such as University of California, Berkeley, University of Michigan, or the College of William and Mary as all experience the same competitive market that forces graduation rates up. However, many more public schools are competing only with similar public schools, and funding from the state may be based on enrollment size. Says Vedder, “If a school can get credit for students in a fifth year, then they are making 5/4ths of the subsidy that they would if they graduate students “on time” in four years.” More students staying longer is the public University’s equation for funding, funding that allows for the research, athletic teams, and administrative salaries that we’ve become accustomed to.
What Can We Do?
How do we break this cycle? Legislators can consider tying state funding in part on graduation rate. If this were to happen, schools would go to extreme lengths to ensure students have the opportunity to graduate in four. Vedder hopes that this will “eliminate some of the unnecessary graduation requirements that serve as a barrier to graduation.” With the proper incentives in place, meaning a performance-based funding model, we would not see these barriers to mobility, and fewer students would be closed out of classes.”
Of course, if this were to lead to professors changing grades, or lowering standards, leading to further grade inflation, Vedder is not quick to sacrifice quality for graduation rates. “Perhaps a national college exit exam is necessary. This would ensure students were receiving a quality education while still allowing a graduation rates to rise. Possibly we could work accreditation into this equation.” If accreditation is linked to performance and graduation rates we would see some real change. If a school loses its accreditation, as Matt Schifrin says in his recent piece on University’s Financial Health it will see government funding quickly dry up and the lights go out.
In yet another example of the NCAA disadvantaging its student-athletes, Slate published a wonderful article by Josh Levin on a transfer rule that limits athletes’ playing time at new schools. Coaches invoke hyperbole about transfers as an “epidemic” (among other points that Levin shows to be absurd) and fear that the specter of free agency threatens to destroy college athletics. Although the NCAA has many sins to atone for (some of which CCAP has covered), enforcing harsher penalties on transfer students seems particularly grating to level-headed sensibilities. Why any penalty for transfer students should exist seems spurious.
As the NCAA claims to be founded “as a way to protect student-athletes” and “continues to implement that principle with increased emphasis on both athletics and academic excellence,” articles like Levin’s must perplex NCAA officials. Limitations on transfers and the wildly imbalanced power coaches hold over athletes make the NCAA appear less as a paternal organization to protect student-athletes and more as a cabal that, as Levin says, “gives a coach the ultimate authority over everyone on his team.”As coaches tend to make more than any public employee in most states, its’s questionable as to why they should have so much power other their athletes, especially as athletes receive no paycheck.
Note: This is a guest post by Jan Škapa, a student at Brno University of Technology and Masaryk University, who met Richard Vedder at a seminar in Prague, Czech Republic last summer, and is a local coordinator for European Students For Liberty.
On ‘Education’ in General
I love education. And what I mean when I say “education” might differ from how most people define it. By “education,” I don’t mean just sitting in a physical classroom and listening to instructors. Yes, that is a specific type of conveying information, but it is quite literally an old-school model by which many people do not learn effectively.
When I say education, I mean the fascinating mental process of the human mind, which takes inputs and produces new ideas that consequently influence human action. The crucial aspect is that the mind needs to be ready and desirous of education; otherwise, the process fails, no matter how hard it’s forced from outside (and when forced, the mind relaxes and returns to familiar patterns, disregarding the new inputs).
To illustrate what I mean, let’s take an example of a person who just got a new computer. The person can either:
1) self-educate, i.e. learn how to operate the computer on his own;
2) get educated, i.e. find written instructions, seek help from an experienced user, or sign up for a class;
3) relax, i.e. give the computer to someone else, refusing to learn.
Stanford Online AI Class of 2011
Two years ago, I took an online course from Stanford University on artificial intelligence. I completed the course in the advanced track, and it felt like one of the best learning experiences I’ve ever had. I love computer science and technology, so I was excited to learn about AI. However, putting that aside, the idea of massive online education fascinated me, maybe even as much as the course subject itself.
The number of people who took the course with me was astonishing: 160,000. By far, not all of them finished, and not all of them watched the first lecture. Nonetheless, just the feeling that thousands of people from around the world were getting educated in the same topic from the same leading experts was uplifting and very encouraging for me.
The year I took the course was the year when I finished high school and started university: neither of which, however, were in the United States. I went to high school in a small Moravian city, and transitioned to the largest Moravian city to attend university — all of which in the so-called “heart of Europe,” the Czech Republic.
Looking back, I must admit that high school — with mandatory attendance for every class — felt very much like prison to me. I was excited to go to university because it provided me with a chance to learn rather than “to get educated;” the learning part came primarily from the huge amount of free time that most Czech students enjoy. I was set free — and taking a Stanford course was a perfect way to start utilizing this freedom.
However, I didn’t stop there.
Universities and MOOCs
The university environment is very fruitful, but its costs are outpacing of its benefits, especially on the margin. That holds true for the United States as it does for the Czech Republic. Even though Czech students don’t directly pay for the institutions, the inefficiencies are clear when it requires more money from taxpayers (adjusted for inflation) to educate one student than it did a few years ago. The same goes for American higher education where the problem is much more visible thanks to a partial price system.
It seems to me that there is a disconnect between what is perceived as education and what education actually is. I’ve completed about 10 massive open online courses and two years of university, so I think I can compare my experience.
I’ve learned a lot while taking courses through Coursera, Udacity, and elsewhere. I’ve pursued my interests directly, but also discovered new ideas which I wouldn’t have been exposed to otherwise. I was awarded certificates, which are a second-hand proof of my education (moreover, they aren’t yet publicly recognized), the main proof being the knowledge I acquired.
I feel, however, that I’ve learned less at university — the environment is more static, especially at Czech universities, where students get locked into the major they chose. On the other hand, I met many people, and there are also other benefits, like learning to be on time and managing my schedule. But the degree that students earn is perceived as their “education.” So, though I’ve learned less, I am supposedly still getting my “education” at university, not elsewhere.
The Future of Education
Massive open online courses are provided primarily by universities, but they change the paradigm of education, reorienting the focus back to its roots. It is about the knowledge you get, and not about the degree. It’s rather interesting that the institutions responsible for the inefficiencies in education are also a major force in advancing education on the digital frontier.
There are still a lot of problems with massive open online courses, though — some providers haven’t found a profitable business model. There will probably be a lot of competition in this field, and good business models will prevail, while bad ones will perish. That is a good thing because, after the initial hype is over, we will have a stable market-based online educational system, which may or may not change the face of universities in a sort of backfiring loop.
I believe education will once again become more knowledge-oriented, and less degree-oriented. That’s what education is about anyway — learning new things, which are useful for the individual and his or her life. We will see what role MOOCs will play — whether they will be just a transitional phenomenon or not.
There are far more students than professors in higher education, and the system is supposed to be set up for the aspirants, not the academics. I want universities to have robust, supported faculty, and I’m a professor myself, but MOOC-triggered alarms that that focus solely on faculty positions put the teacher first, learner last.
A while back the Wall Street Journal has a potentially ominous report about law schools:
Since the financial meltdown of 2008 and resulting economic recession, dozens of law schools, including those at George Washington University, in Washington; University of California’s Hastings College of the Law, based in San Francisco; and Creighton University in Omaha, Neb., have announced smaller class sizes. A survey conducted last summer by Kaplan Test Prep found that 51% of U.S. law schools had cut their admissions. The study didn’t identify the schools that made cuts.
But the move by Northwestern’s law school [to decrease the size of its incoming by 10%], based in Chicago, signals just how sharply the demand for young lawyers has dropped in recent years, and to a grim new prospect for law schools: that the legal profession may never return to its prerecession prosperity.
As the article notes later on (quoting law professor Bill Henderson), the underlying rationale for these schools to cut their class sizes is that doing so allows them to preserve institutional selectivity, in no small part to secure their places in law school rankings. Despite all the problems one might identify with prestige-seeking behavior in higher education, this is a good example of how the desire to maximize prestige can actually serve as a motive for corrective action. If we stipulate that there is indeed an oversupply of lawyers in the U.S. labor market, then perhaps the best way (and, I suspect, the most efficient way on a societal level) to address that problem is to begin curtailing law school enrollments. Notice that cutting enrollments is actually in the best interest of institutions who pursue prestige. For them, by cutting enrollments (which, for highly selective institutions implies cutting admissions) in the face of declining applications (which are themselves in response to the tepid job market for law school graduates), they are avoiding the awful specter of a decrease in institutional selectivity. An inputs-focus is certainly not all bad.
Earlier this week Kevin Kiley’s reporting for InsideHigherEd on the recent NACUBO report on tuition discounting included this interesting chart.
A little while ago, Eric Kelderman had a story in the Chronicle that is, if not surprising to some, surely is distressing:
Thirty-four colleges audited recently by the Internal Revenue Service underpaid their taxes on unrelated business income by nearly $90-million, and nearly 20 percent of the private colleges in the group violated rules for nonprofit organizations in determining the compensation of their chief executives, according to a final report issued on Thursday by the federal agency.
But the real kicker comes from later on in the IRS report. As Kelderman describes it,
The audits, the report says, “identified some significant issues … that may well be present elsewhere across the tax-exempt sector.”
Back in 2007 or so, a movement was beginning to coalesce around certain proposals to regulate and limit colleges abilities to use their endowments to build up institutional wealth. While this push rightly died in the aftermath of the 2008 financial crisis (which hit college and university endowments with a vengeance), this new IRS report may provide something of a new impetus for increased scrutiny to colleges’ finances. Rather than poking away at an endowment problem that is only tangentially related (as I see it) to increasing college affordability, focusing on a failure to abide by the existing laws and regulations is preferable because 1) the focus is on rectifying a problem of which we know (or have good reason to suspect) and 2) it avoids the political fallout of having to propose and implement a new regulatory regime that, if we are honest, may have unintended consequences such that the cure is worse than the disease.
There has, of late, been a bit of a firestorm over a post from CBS MoneyWatch that uses some of the data CCAP has compiled from RateMyProfessor.com. In this post for MindingtheCampus, I try to clarify things and explain why we think the CBS MoneyWatch list is an inappropriate use of our data.
Last summer I testified before the House of Representatives of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania on the subject of student activity fees and suggested that one way state lawmakers can appropriately seek to rein in college costs for students would be to make student activity fees at public institutions non-mandatory (by allowing students to opt-out of such fees). Of course, some fees should be non-mandatory (in the sense that they depend exclusively on the student’s decision to matriculate), for example, a fee collected to pay for library services. But some fees, particularly athletics fees, are only ancillary to the academic mission than are library fees. As I put it in my testimony, an institution can be a good university without a football team; it is impossible to be one without a library (even if it is only in a digital form, I might add). The latest news on student athletics fees at the University of New Mexico is a further illustration of the propriety of making these fees non-mandatory.
In their way, remedial courses are as close to purely competency-based as anything we do. It’s just that we insist on shoving them into our semester structures. Wouldn’t MOOCs make absolutely wonderful supplements for developmental classes, especially in math?