I raised the possibility earlier this month in response to a study about private college enrollment and financial aid.  I return to the theme now because of more new research on enrollment not just in private colleges and universities, but across the board, including publics and for-profits. The news is spotty, but could be a milestone.

The gist is that American college and university enrollment has been declining, slightly, over the past two and one half years, according to the National Student Clearinghouse (full report pdf).  For-profits institutions especially suffered, but so did everyone else to some degree:

Start with the leftmost sample, “All sectors”, which shows a steady downward curve from gain to decline.  Only private nonprofits break this curve, and their positive difference has dropped to a very thin gain over the past year.

Is it possible that American higher education is experiencing a plateau or even downturn of student demand?  Perhaps not.  The NCS and NACUBO studies don’t extend very far in time, so this could be a blip.  This fall in demand might be temporary, and reverse through a return to growth. After all, colleges and universities are seeking new student markets in America and abroad. Then again, this could be what it looks like at the very crest of a wave, as the water’s edge curls in a new direction.  We’d be foolish not to think it through.

Setting aside the future, we should ask about the recent past: why did this (maybe temporary) decline occur?  Some sources see economic recovery as a reason, although that seems very limited to me.  The “recovery” is actually quite weak, with few and lower quality jobs created.  Most of the economic rebound is focused on the wealthy (hence the growth in private schools, to some extent) and investments.

Other reasons include the specter of debt. Perhaps the student loan crisis has scared away some would-be students, between media panics and the huge crimp on middle-class family wealth.  Or maybe this demand stall is because the jobs which seem likeliest to hire don’t require much academic work (for example).  Some potential students are avoiding school and heading straight to the service sector, in other words.

Maybe. It’s too early to tell, especially as a colossal entity like American higher education takes time to change.  For now let’s lodge these observations and considerations in the stream of time, so we can check back on it later on to see which future came to pass.

(via Inside Higher Ed)

It’s an online program for a small group (fewer than twelve) of people working in higher education.  The topic is how each participant’s institution can better strategize about their response to MOOCs. We use a mix of various technologies to meet, converse, reflect, and plan: Google+ Hangout, email, Diigo, Canvas.

It’s the second time I’ve offered this program.  The first is nearly done, and has been very exciting.  Participants are faculty and staff from a variety of liberal arts institutions, and discussion has been rich.  For a sample you can check out the team’s Diigo group.

If your college, university, library, museum, or other organization is thinking hard about MOOCs, please consider joining us.  I’m happy to answer questions here or elsewhere, of course.

Here are the top ten:

1. Registered Nurses
2. Retail Salespersons
3. Home Health Aides
4. Personal Care Aides
5. Office Clerks, General
6. Combined Food Preparation and Serving Workers, Including Fast Food
7. Customer Service Representatives
8. Heavy and Tractor-Trailer Truck Drivers
9. Laborers and Freight, Stock, and Material Movers, Hand
10. Postsecondary Teachers

These share many similar characteristics with the “Fastest growing occupations” report: an emphasis on service (not manufacturing), a lack of educational demands.  There isn’t much sign of the vaunted knowledge economy.  There’s also a tendency towards lower salaries:

$64,690
$20,670
$20,560
$19,640
$26,610
$17,950
$30,460
$37,770
$23,460
$62,050

Only a few of these are middle class positions, of themselves.

Once again I ask, what does this kind of prognostication tell us about higher education?  Perhaps academia is marginal to these mainstream, growing jobs, whose educational demands do not link up with liberal arts colleges or research universities.

Alternatively, note how many are related to health care.  Schools could read this as a summons to strengthen their various life sciences programs.

From a darker perspective, the BLS outlines the careers from which traditional higher education claims to rescue students.  College and university experience gives the learner the means to avoid such burgeoning fates; is that our emerging marketing strategy?

What does this kind of projection tell policymakers?  The regional growth formula of “meds and eds” would still work, perhaps.  Or that they should simply prepare for greater economic inequality, and assume education no longer reduces class divisions.

From a different angle, we can also ask: what needs to happen for this BLS project to be wrong?  What kind of changes would impact the next decade to produce a different set of jobs?

(edited 5/17/13)

I’d like to offer a few first thoughts, based on my work over the past several years.  These are provisional comments, not polished assessments:

First, the new degree program’s price point is very important.  Inside Higher Ed reports that the normal, face-to-face program costs $40,000 (for out of state residents), and that the Udacity one costs 1/6th of that, or about $6,666.67.  This will certainly appeal to some students, especially during a time when Americans are so concerned about price and debt.  As with San Jose State’s Coursera experiment, we can imagine people willing to lose some personal contact in order to save money.  G-tech is hoping for up to 10,000 paying students.

Second, the staffing aspect is also critical, as the new program relies on fewer and non-tenure-track faculty.  IHE again:

Georgia Tech expects to hire only eight or so new instructors even as it takes its master’s program from 300 students to as many as 10,000 within three years, said Zvi Galil, the dean of computing at Georgia Tech.
The university will rely instead on Udacity staffers, known as “mentors,” to field most questions from students who enroll in the new program.

Obviously Georgia Tech controls costs in growing its program, and maybe saves money overall.  Shifting away from tenure-line faculty is not a new thing, nor a MOOC invention.  Universities and colleges have in fact been reducing the number of tenure-track faculty for years, making adjuncts the most common instructors in American higher education.  Georgia Tech’s plan continues the trend.

Third, this is a new direction in attempting MOOC sustainability.  We’ve seen partnerships before, but only at the level of classes, nor entire degree programs.

Fourth, this is a computer science degree, which has several implications.  CS MOOCs tend to attract a strong online audience, from the Thrun AI class onwards.  We might therefore bet that Georgia Tech’s program wins a large audience.  On the other hand, computer science is an unusual field compared with other disciplines, at least in terms of engagement with computers.  is a very strong limitation. Most academic leaders can dismiss CS as an outlying, unusually cyber-happy field.

Fifth, this program doesn’t appear to offer any pedagogical innovations.  It might; we just haven’t heard of any.

Sixth, AT&T?  Interesting move, presumably aimed at eliciting graduates for its workforce.

As a coda, I’d like to return to the possibility of higher education hitting an inflection point, my theme from last week.  If this program succeeds and spawns imitators, the price of American higher education could well start to drop.  Or the field bifurcates: online-only (or online-mostly) programs flourish, bringing average prices down, while some traditional (or blended) face-to-face colleges continue to increase their sticker prices.  That’s a big if, but it’s possible.  We can also imagine the program fizzling, or imitation limited to computer science programs nationwide – fascinating, but not having much of a broader impact.

What do you make of it?

Here are what the BLS deems the “Fastest growing occupations, 2010 and projected 2020″:

1. Personal Care Aides;
2. Home Health Aides;
3. Biomedical Engineers;
4. Helpers–Brickmasons, Blockmasons, Stonemasons, and Tile and Marble Setters;
5. Helpers–Carpenters, Veterinary Technologists and Technicians;
6. Reinforcing Iron and Rebar Workers;
7. Physical Therapist Assistants;
8. Helpers–Pipelayers, Plumbers, Pipefitters, and Steamfitters;
9. Meeting, Convention, and Event Planners
10. Diagnostic Medical Sonographers

What are the implications for education?  Note how little schooling is required for these, except for the two medical technology positions.  Indeed, many workers in these fields learn by apprenticeship, not college.  So should the American education system rethink the old vocational track in order to direct learners towards these positions?

For higher education, are colleges and universities making the implicit argument that their graduates won’t have to work in these fields?  If so, this fits in with the theory that modern American education reinforces rather than reduces class divides (a point Andrew Delbanco makes).  Further, the leading jobs that actually require higher education are medical.  Perhaps institutions should expand their biomedical capacity.

Note, too, the relatively low salaries.  They seem consistent with macroeconomic arguments that the American middle class is being hollowed out.

These patterns continue for quite a ways as you read down the chart.

A report from National Association of College and University Business Officers (NACUBO; paywalled) found that only a minority of private institutions saw student enrollment increase.  Instead,

slightly more than half of the survey respondents said they saw a decline in enrollment or no growth.[emphasis added]

At the same time, these institutions offered the highest tuition discount rate of all time.  (“Discount rate” means the average price cut students receive after a school gives grants, scholarship, and other financial aid)

A TIME writer puts it succinctly:

many private colleges in the United States are ramping up their financial aid packages in an attempt to attract new students and boost sagging enrollments…

But those enrollments continue to flag.  Especially for small colleges and universities: “Tuition discounting … often failed to have the desired effect, especially at small, less-selective institutions…”

What does this mean?

The report’s findings draw together a series of forces:

1. Many middle-class families saw their wealth decline and compensation stagnate over the past decade (for example).
2. Students and their families are increasingly sensitive to price, pre-discount.  This leads some to other alternatives, such as state schools.
3. Although average debt is fairly low, popular stories about huge, debilitating debts are probably influencing people.
4. Published tuition – sticker price – keeps rising.  Reasons for this are various, including rising staff costs and some institutions’ physical plant renovations, but paying for faculty is usually the biggest one.
5. American demographics suggest a smaller teenage population over the next decade.

All five of those forces could well continue over the next few years.  #1′s impact will last for a long time, even if the US economy enters a real recovery period.  Stories of #3 seem to have long legs so far, and loom large in the minds of students looking at a darkened post-graduation employment landscape.   #4 is likely to persist, given the presence of a body of tenured faculty (whose cost will only rise with time), and the already very low salaries for non-tenure-track instructors.  #5 is already baked in.

But the specter of declining enrollment is a powerful one for campus leadership, and could provoke strategic changes.  What might they look like?

Here’s a quick roster of possibilities.  Please feel free to add in comments:

Back to the elite.  Some institutions, especially the well resourced, win students from very wealthy families.  Prices keep rising, and good capital returns mean their endowments grow healthily; combined, they can offer attractive aid packages to the most attractive members of the shrunken middle class.  These schools offer superb pedagogy, and represent class dynamics resembling those of a century+ past.

Closing up shop.  Other institutions fail to win enough students from wealthy families, despite high discount rates.  They enter a decline spiral as resource constraints limit what they can offer to increasingly discerning prospective students, which reduces their reputations.  Dropping reputations and resources chase each other down to the bottom.  Some campuses simply close, while more successful institutions purchase the assets of others.

The bubble pops. A small group of colleges and universities reduce their published tuition figures, hoping that media excitement will boost applications enough to make up for reduced revenue.  Some fund this by: further increasing the number of adjunct faculty; closing departments attracting few students (and thus losing tenured professors); cutting back physical plant work; outsourcing information services (library and/or IT); winning wealthy international students.  Once a formula for doing this appears to work, other institutions implement it, and private college tuition begins to climb down from its 2013 peak.

More of the same.  Despite the NACUBO report, institutions maintain the same policies.  In the minds of students the solid college wage premium manages to defeat fears of post-graduation debt.  Schools expand the number of wealthy foreign students. Online learning never goes mainstream, remaining in niche curricula and markets.  Tuitions rise, but enough families deem them worth the debt.

Which of these seems likeliest?  What other options are available?  Comments welcome.

(“College” photo by Tax Credits)

College is, mostly, a pleasure to read. Delbanco is passionate about his subject, and keenly committed to learning. His account of academic history draws nicely from primary sources, yielding humorous quotes and echoes of the present. Delbanco’s prose is thoughtful and elegant.

His overall claim for a specific form of higher education is also appealing. He envisions small classrooms led by engaging professors, spaces where inquiry and discussion range freely. I agree with the excellence of this vision based on my work as a teacher and from my memories of being a student. Delbanco’s additional claim that colleges can boost citizens’ democratic engagement is one I’m sympathetic to.

However, this vision is so partial and limited as to constitute at best a kind of special pleading.  At worst the book is a grossly inaccurate depiction of higher education in reality.

To begin with, Delbanco openly admits that his focus is on a handful of Ivy League campuses (mostly Yale, Harvard, Princeton, and Stanford). “[M]y focus is on the so-called elite colleges” (6). The experience of more than 4500 American institutions counts for little or nothing in College. Towards the book’s end the author observes that many new trends (see below) don’t really apply to “the old and prestigious colleges that have been at the center of this book” (153)… then changes the subject.

The classism of this move is a bit breathtaking. Delbanco even observes that “our ‘best’ colleges are doing more to sustain than to retard to growth of inequality in our society” (26-7; repeated 122), and stays silent about ways of addressing the problem. Moreover, this strategy follows the hoary cliche of every campus wanting to be Harvard, and the unfortunate media trope of paying too much attention to Harvard and Yale at the expense of the rest of American academia. Delbanco has said elsewhere that many Americans envision college life based on a dream of the 1920s, failing to grapple with a century of development; his book is predicated on a similar problem. He admits that there is a “[growing] disparity among institutions”(7), only to plunge onwards.

For instance, adult learners are simply not an issue in College. The book is all about the traditional-age undergrad: “At its core, a college should be a place where young people find help for navigating the territory between adolescence and adulthood” (3). That this doesn’t describe the majority (!) of college and university students is a serious weakness for the book.

This focus leads the book away from any serious consideration of college economics. Yes, College sketches the development of financial aid over the 20th century (ch. 4), but stops before our current decade of the Great Recession and our present funding crises. Funding a transformation of American higher education into four thousand Princetons stocked with seminars is a colossal problem, one the book sidesteps. Delbanco tentatively suggests “in theory, at least” that governments could spend more money, but fails, remarkably, to note the political reality of governments moving in the opposite direction (160). It’s “encouraging” when a wealthy institution reduces the number of huge lecture classes in favor of small seminars, but the lack of describing how to fund the additional number of instructors (“[s]uch a faculty is expensive to recruit and retain”) is discouraging (88-9).

Similarly, Delbanco’s imagined classroom is not taught by a part-timer, non-tenure-track faculty member. In reality adjuncts now teach the majority of classes, and there are no signs of that changing in the near future. The adjunctification of the professoriate makes scant impression on College (6, 123, 153), and no solutions to the problem appear. Let me expand the passage cited earlier: “my focus is on the so-called elite colleges, which have so far been relatively immune to the gutting of the faculty that is already far advanced at more vulnerable institutions” (6). This is especially galling for a book claiming to depict, as its subtitle claims, “College: What It… Is, and Should Be.”

Beyond economics, College downplays a host of other disciplines. The STEM world barely appears in this book. Instead the humanities dominate on multiple levels. Delbanco quotes beautifully from literary and philosophical writers, but never from scientists. His curricular examples are usually, if not exclusively, found in the humanities (57-60, 100-101, 173); in one case, they are explicitly against the sciences (99). His pedagogical model is solely that of discussion, not the lab. Students engage by writing papers, never by composing lab reports or completing problem sets. Undergraduates take classes from “a grab bag of unrelated subjects” (85) – sometimes true for humanities majors, but impossible for science students.. As a humanist, I know too well the tendency of humanists to mistake their part of the academic world for the whole; it’s unfortunate to see it happen in as thoughtful and well-researched a book as this. Seeing computer science described as “narrowly vocational” (12) is not so much insulting as depressing.

Speaking of STEM, Delbanco calls his approach to technology “skepticism”, but that is really a misnomer for ignorance. He touches on MOOCs and online learning, only to rapidly shunt them aside. The digital humanities appear in a single paragraph, unnamed, and framed in mockery and marginalization (98). Delbanco doesn’t do anything with blended learning, the flipped classroom, digital multimedia, social media, open education, cMOOCs (as opposed to xMOOCs), open access publication, the crisis of scholarly communication, the rise of the digital public intellectual, information literacy, etc. He would have done better to exclude technology entirely for reasons of space, or else take it seriously.

In sum, I’m disappointed in the book, and expected more from an author I admire.  Is there a better current work on higher education?

You can follow “Glue” through Soderbergh’s Twitter feed, or read this Storify of its first chapter.

[View the story "Steven Soderbergh's Twitter Novella" on Storify]

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