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Give Us Liberty or Give Us Revenue
By STANLEY FISH
An inside look at the politics of academic careers
In January of 2002, Mark Yudof, then president of the
University of Minnesota, wrote an essay for The Chronicle titled, "Is
the Public Research University Dead?" Now, less than two years later,
the most optimistic answer one could give is "Not yet."
The key word in Yudof's title is "public," which has
traditionally been short for "state supported." There's both the
rub and the question: In an era of declining state support, when
is it no longer accurate to designate an institution "public"?
George M. Dennison, president of the University of
Montana at Missoula, recalls that in the '60s and '70s the usual
assumption was "that the public should pay from 70 percent to 80
percent of the cost of higher education." Now the figure is more
likely to be 25 percent (if you're lucky), and in some states the
figure is 10 and headed downward. Only 10 years ago, Dennison reports,
the ratio of state-appropriated funds to tuition dollars in his state
was 3 to 1. Now it is 2 to l in the other direction: "$l of state
appropriations for every $2 of tuition and fees."
The university's expenditures, Dennison says, have
increased markedly, in part because of a large increase in the number
of students it is asked to serve; but "fully 98 percent of the increased
funding has come from tuition and fees and private support, not from
the state."
The story is the same everywhere, despite what some
irresponsible politicians have been saying lately. Even in those
states where the raw sums expended on higher education have been
rising, the percentage of the budget devoted to higher education
-- the figure that means something because it reflects general changes
in the cost of doing business and providing services -- is declining.
In Wisconsin and other states the level of state support
has been more than halved in the past 15 years. The dilemma was summed
up by Katharine C. Lyall, president of the University of Wisconsin
System: "They want high access, low tuition, top quality, and no
tax increases to pay for it."
The result, as Yudof puts it, is a breaking of the compact negotiated long ago by state governments and public research
universities: "In return for financial support from taxpayers, universities
agreed to keep tuition low and provide access for students from a
broad range of economic backgrounds, train graduate and professional
students, promote arts and culture, help solve problems in the community,
and perform groundbreaking research."
That's a tall order and, up to now, the universities
have pretty much been doing their part -- giving educational opportunities
to millions who would have otherwise been denied them -- but in recent
years they have been largely abandoned by their partners. Nevertheless,
universities are regularly told to make do with what they have, tighten
their belts, become more efficient, eliminate frills, teach more
and pay less.
These, however, are political recommendations -- they
play to the crowd and do not speak to the realities facing public
universities -- and the real response of public higher education
to this situation (although few will acknowledge it) has been to
follow the state and abandon its half of the contract by raising
tuition, narrowing access, closing down graduate programs, eviscerating
the humanities and the arts, and cutting funds for research.
The result is predictable, and you can read about it
in your daily newspaper: The very legislators who have withdrawn
the money now turn around and berate us for not providing what they
are unwilling to pay for. "It's outrageous," says Richard S. Jarvis,
chancellor of the Oregon University System, "that the state should
become a minority partner in educating its undergraduates." Outrageous it may be, but that's the way it is, and
the question is, What do universities do now? The answer -- not chosen
exactly, but given by default -- is privatization, which usually
means a combination of higher tuition, fewer services, aggressive
outsourcing, aggressive patenting, distance education, technology
transfers, and private donations. |
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The dangers awaiting those who pursue these
strategies (and what public university has not?) have been fully analyzed
by Derek Bok in his book Universities in the Marketplace: The Commercialization
of Higher Education (Princeton University Press, 2003). Bok wrote the
book, he tells us, in response to having been brought "one proposition
after another to exchange some piece or product of Harvard for money." While
at least some of those propositions were economically attractive and
superficially plausible, Bok determined that accepting any of them
would put the academic mission of the university in jeopardy. Sooner
or later, the price for enhanced revenues -- or revenues supposedly
enhanced; he doubts, as do I, the size of the gains to be realized
-- would be the compromising of the academic mission, as various commercial
ventures became the tail that wagged the dog. "Something of irreplaceable
value may get lost," he wrote, "in the relentless growth of commercialization."
Or, in other words, what doth it profit a university to gain the world
but lose its soul?
Still, Harvard is Harvard, and an administrator at an underfunded
public university might be excused for asking, What does Derek Bok's
fastidiousness -- admirable as it may be -- have to do with me? I am
already in the middle of what he warns against, and I have very little
choice if my institution is to survive in anything like its present
form.
Well, yes and no. It is true that public universities have neither
the leisure nor the endowments to engage in high-minded reflection
about their present situations, but there is something they can do.
They can privatize, not by default and in a desperate attempt to deal
with forces beyond their control, but by design and with a view to
creating conditions that would allow the flourishing of those values
in whose name Bok writes.
If the old compact has been discarded, make a new one and trade dollars
for autonomy. As Jeffrey Selingo observes, with revenues being withdrawn
and regulations in the form of accountability measures and tuition
caps being imposed, universities are beginning to think "they would
be better off with greater control over their own affairs," even if
control meant relinquishing even more revenues.
In Maryland, Colorado, Michigan, Oregon, Wisconsin, Texas, South Carolina,
and other states, educators are bargaining for their independence,
offering to accept a reduced level of support and guarantee performance
in return for freedom and the opportunity to chart the course of their
own destinies.
Sign me up.
After two years of severe cuts, my college's state-funded budget is
down to less than $50-million, and I have $49-million in salary commitments.
Not much room to maneuver.
But if we could set our own tuition, and the dollars came directly
to us (as they now do not), we could double the tuition rate (which
is now about $5,000 a year), and, given an enrollment of 10,000 students,
we would instantly become a $100-million college. We could then say
to the state, keep your $50-million, continue to pay for our capital
projects, pensions, and health plans, and we promise to give the citizens
of Illinois an educational product superior to the product they are
unwilling to pay for in tax dollars.
Of course these figures are rough, and adjustments would have to be
made in order to provide a student-aid pool large enough to subsidize
qualified applicants who could not pay the new rate. And no doubt there
would be other problems I haven't thought of. But they could be solved,
and as long as we fit into a market niche -- charging more than community
and state colleges but much less than private universities -- we would
do just fine.
And best of all, the decisions we made would be the right ones because
they would be responsive not to the whims of legislators or the ambitions
of governors or the self-serving pieties of newspaper editors, but
only to our sense of what a liberal education should be. Now, wouldn't
that be a new idea!
Stanley Fish, dean of the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences at
the University of Illinois at Chicago, writes a monthly column for the
Career Network on campus politics and academic careers. His most recent
book is How Milton Works (Harvard University Press, 2001). |