While many of us spent 2012 writing, reading and debating about whether massive open online courses (MOOCs) will forever change American higher education, Richard Linder was quietly and methodically becoming what historians will no doubt cite as America’s first true MOOCer. For the past four years, the 21-year-old , who left his home at age 16, was cobbling together enough MOOC-like online courses to earn an associate degree for under $3,000 -- with not one of the MOOC-like courses being taught by an accredited college.
The truth is that MOOCs are just a small and largely undefined “pebble” within online education; yet this pebble has caused a ripple that has turned many campuses on their heads and nearly cost a president her own. That president, like many college presidents today, faces what could be called “The No Wake Syndrome,” whereby key institutional stakeholders demand leadership and action on a host of mission-critical issues, yet are not willing to accept the wake caused by change, albeit small, that will ensue as a result of the action.
E-learning is one such issue; one such wake.
Having helped build one of the most successful online degree programs in higher education, it is worth sharing a few thoughts and suggestions with other like-minded institutional leaders seeking to find their way in the online world, including how best to prepare their stakeholders for the wake that will undoubtedly follow.
Over the years, dozens of college presidents have asked how Drexel University built such strong and scalable online programs. The answer is simple: it’s having the will and knowing the way.
It all starts with an open and honest discussion. We’ve learned from history that when a ship is taking on water, it does little good for the captain to simply order the band to play louder; hope is not a strategy.
Future economic and political circumstances will fundamentally change the role of a college president from one of building more buildings and growing their endowment, to one as lead advocate for the fundamental transformation of the institution’s core academic product and, in doing so, taking the hit from the “wake” of change that will undoubtedly come fast and hard from defenders of the status quo (see illustration).
Suggesting, for example, that your institution may someday offer or give credit for a $15 MOOC course, when your institution’s financial model is based on much-needed tuition revenue from large enrollment, introductory courses (e.g., Psychology 101) is both fiscally suicidal and morally disingenuous. Just ask the folks at Moody’s who recently issued a negative outlook for the entire higher education sector, stating their concern for the “ potentially destabilizing trends like the rise of massive open online courses."
The fundamental question that must first be addressed (and consciously built around) is: “Why are we doing e-learning?” Is it to increase tuition revenue? Decrease costs? Create greater access? Allow greater flexibility for our students? Experiment with new pedagogical approaches to teaching and learning, so as to better educate a different generation of students? All of the above?
Without a clear and unwavering “will,” it makes little sense for a college president to discuss the “way,” because ultimately the senior no-wake proponents on campus will delay and/or sabotage any meaningful e-learning strategy.
Once the will is established, it’s time to communicate the “why” to key stakeholders from the top to the bottom of the organization, including board members, faculty, deans, students and alumni. All must understand the risks and benefits involved in advancing an e-learning strategy. By the same token, all must understand the risks of NOT advancing one.
The key to succeeding is to incentivize faculty and senior staff. Those colleagues who help should be compensated through the sharing of tuition revenue generated from online courses and/or financial support for scholarly activities, such as paid attendance at professional conferences, new lab equipment, etc.
These same individuals must be engaged in defining and ensuring the highest level of quality of the online student experience, to include course development standards, teaching expectations, proper advisement and support services. The focus, above all else, must be on student-faculty engagement, both in and outside of the course.
Related and essential to a successful and scalable online program is a measurable retention strategy. While retention figures for online students are hard to come by, it’s generally agreed that much more attention and greater accountability is needed in this area. A baseline for retention must be established (certainly no lower then the baseline for on-campus students) and a retention “dashboard” created to enable the provost to monitor all online programs.
Here we all could take a few best practices from for-profit colleges, who learned long ago that it is cheaper to retain an existing student then it is to recruit a new one; not to mention their ethical obligation and the fact some risk losing their national accreditation for failing to maintain high retention rates.
For those institutions just jumping into the e-learning sector, it requires the thoughtful use of both internal and external resources, including independent marketing research. Much like diving into an unknown swimming pool, unless you know where the deep and shallow ends are located, you risk either drowning or breaking your neck. Here the careful use of third-party vendors and consultants to properly assess your institution’s market niche is typically a good expense.
George Orwell once wrote, “To see what is in front of one’s nose needs a constant struggle.”
The struggle for today's college presidents is having the courage to navigate their stakeholders away from the no-wake syndrome and toward a more personalized, technologically advanced and affordable online degree program.
Let’s hope that that Mr. Linder’s actions will serve as good reason for the struggle, as nothing less than the future of our profession, and our nation, is at stake.
Kenneth E. Hartman
Kenneth E. Hartman is a senior fellow at Edventures and the former president of Drexel eLearning at Drexel University.
As the National Association for Independent Colleges and Universities (NAICU) holds its annual meeting this week, the presidents will spend a lot of time discussing how they and their institutions can more effectively communicate institutional value, and counter the volatile -- and negative -- public discourse involving issues of cost, student debt, learning outcomes, and placement rates for our graduates.
The challenge, however, is that if we focus solely on deflating myths and countering the sensationalized rhetoric of the media, we are reinforcing the public’s focus on negative issues. We are unwittingly exacerbating the widely held view that, crudely put, “higher education is too expensive, students aren’t learning what they need to learn, and graduates are leaving school with crippling debt and no jobs.”
While this hyperbolic rhetoric is grounded in real issues that we must resolve institutionally and collectively, it is dominating the national discourse in ways that are making an increasingly broad sector of the public suspicious of our relevance, quality and integrity. It is time for us, as leaders in higher education, to play offense as well as defense. We must find ways to collectively guide the national discourse back to a position of truth — of fact-based information that is relevant to the needs and aspirations of prospective students and their families — and then ensure that our institutions communicate our individual values, strengths and demonstrable outcomes in the context of an accurate and nuanced narrative.
Before I offer some suggestions about starting points for shaping that discourse, I do want to recognize that I am implicitly challenging us — the higher education community — to do something that historically we haven’t been very good at: to explain “what it is that we do, how we do it, why we do it this way, and how we know that we’re doing it well” in ways that make any sense at all to people who aren’t us.
We have a tendency — as every profession does — to talk about what we do in a jargon-filled tribal dialect (filled with unspoken assumptions) that is impenetrable to “outsiders.” We need not only to articulate the core narrative about the value and purpose of higher education, but to do so in a language that those who are not us find useful, meaningful and compelling.
So here are some suggested starting points for shaping the national conversation:
Identify and emphasize the skills that employers want and the ways in which our graduates are prepared to fill those needs
As those of us in higher education know, a college education is not job training. The mission statement of my institution, Drake University, promises to prepare students for “meaningful personal lives, professional accomplishment and responsible global citizenship.” But we know that the relationship between higher education and jobs, between higher education and economic development, is at the center of the public consciousness these days, and we must address it head-on.
A national survey of 305 businesses across sectors, conducted for the Association of American Colleges & Universities (AAC&U), demonstrated powerfully that employers are much less interested in undergraduate major than they are in oral and written communication skills, critical thinking and analytical reasoning, the ability to analyze and solve complex problems, quantitative literacy, the ability to collaborate and to work in diverse groups, the capacity for ethical decision making and for creativity and innovation -- all of which align completely with the essential learning outcomes articulated in AAC&U’s “Liberal Education and America’s Promise” (LEAP) initiative.
These data run counter to recent arguments by some governors that job skills training should be prioritized at the expense of liberal arts programs. These elected officials need to be introduced to today’s liberal arts— where liberal education is integrated with preparation for the world of practice, and where the outcomes directly address the stated needs of America’s employers.
Further, Drake’s strategic plan serves as proof that innovation, agility and flexibility are in play on campus. We must ensure the ongoing vitality and vibrancy of the institution in a world of volatility, uncertainty, complexity and ambiguity, while preparing our students to succeed in fulfilling their personal, professional and citizenship aspirations in that environment as well.
Encourage students to focus on passion, not expectations of income
In an ideal world, a student should enroll in the institution that is the best fit for his or her goals, learning and living styles and academic ability. College must not be just about jobs and money. College should be the place where men and women figure out their aspirations for meaningful professional and personal lives, and set off — with our support and guidance — to make those aspirations come true. It is incumbent upon us to find ways to make that goal the centerpiece of the national discourse.
Choosing a major field of study (and the institution that offers it) on the basis of expected career earnings entails the greatest risk. While we applaud President Obama's call for a college "scorecard" that helps students and their parents compare institutions with objective data, the proposal for a "potential earnings" indicator exacerbates the already serious negative impact of money on college choice for a variety of reasons.
Data indicate that a significant number of undergraduates (40 percent) change their major at least once, and there is a relatively low correlation between undergraduate major and eventual career, especially given the fact that the majority of future graduates will be employed in jobs that do not exist yet. Similarly, there has been little historical correlation between major and eventual earnings. There is a correlation between grade point average and earnings — suggesting that a student is much better off majoring in something for which he/she has both talent and passion.
There is an anecdote circulating on the web that is illustrative, if unverifiable, of the unreliability of connecting a major to career earnings. Supposedly, the highest average starting salary of University of North Carolina graduates belongs to geography majors — thanks to Michael Jordan's staggeringly high earnings. The cautionary message, of course, is that high-paid outliers, who may well be in careers unrelated to their majors, can skew the statistical average and provide students with misleading data on salary prospects.
Shift the discussion from expensive sticker prices to net cost
Students are increasingly making critical life choices based primarily on money — choices that may turn out to be the wrong ones in the long run. They are choosing an institution based on often-uninformed assumptions about the cost of public institutions versus private; based on which school has offered them the largest scholarship; and based on assumptions about earning potential of a particular major.
I do recognize that in offering merit aid, we are contributing to the fact that considerations of money are increasingly distorting important educational choices, and I think most of us would welcome a national moratorium on that practice.
What are missing from these deliberations, when dominated by financial considerations, are some important nuances. Private colleges and universities are not necessarily more expensive than public. The four- and six-year graduation rates for private institutions are higher than for their public peers. Additionally, many private institutions offer significant amounts of aid, reducing the real cost.
As leaders, I fear that we aren’t having all the right conversations. Rather than focusing our attention solely on myths and half-truths, we should counter our critics by reframing the questions to focus on what is really important, and by providing evidence of the student outcomes and institutional values that we promise. Both approaches need to be infused with transparency and accountability on the part of all of us who speak for our institutions and for the higher education community. Most importantly, we need to reframe the conversation to be about the students, not about us.
Ultimately, the long-term solution to cost and access has to be a partnership among families, institutions and policy makers. We must help families understand and appreciate that higher education is an investment in their future, and we ourselves must be cost-effective and financially accessible. And governments must recognize that postsecondary education, including liberal education, is a public good for which they must share the burden of cost — a burden that is much less expensive than prisons, welfare and a stagnant economy.