Some professors at Temple University are protesting the decision to remove Hai-Lung Dai as provost this week without any public explanation, The Philadelphia Inquirer reported. Faculty members say the university should explain its actions. A university spokesman said Temple doesn't comment on personnel matters, but "we do not take these matters lightly." A petition organized by faculty members states that "actions of this magnitude must be explained and cannot seem to be made arbitrarily."
Kentucky Governor Matt Bevin, a Republican who this month fired most members of the University of Louisville board, on Wednesday appointed new members. The university's president, James Ramsey, is promising to step down once the new board is in place. The prior board was divided over Ramsey's leadership. Some political leaders and many faculty members -- even some who are happy to see Ramsey go -- have opposed the governor's actions, saying that they constitute inappropriate interference with the university. Attorney General Andy Beshear on Thursday vowed to continue legal action to block the changes.
The Courier-Journal reported that one of the new trustees has used Twitter to question climate science and to state that being gay is not compatible with being a Christian.
A national outcry regarding the cost of education and the poor performance of institutions in graduating their students has raised questions about the extent to which accreditors are fulfilling their mission of quality assurance. Politicians have expressed outrage, for instance, at the fact that accreditors are not shutting down institutions with graduation rates in the single digits.
At the same time, accreditors and others have noted that the graduation data available from the National Center for Education Statistics’ Integrated Postsecondary Education Data System, familiarly known as IPEDS, include only first-time, full-time student cohorts and, as such, are too limited to be the measure by which institutional success is measured -- or by which accreditation is judged. But simply noting this problem does nothing to solve it. The imperative and challenge of getting reliable data on student success must be more broadly acknowledged and acted upon. The WASC Senior College and University Commission (WSCUC) has taken important steps to do just that.
As is well known, IPEDS graduation rates include only those students who enrolled as first-time, full-time students at an institution. Of the approximately 900,000 undergraduate students enrolled at institutions accredited by WSCUC, about 40 percent, or 360,000, fit this category. That means approximately 540,000 students in this region, including all transfer and part-time students, are unaccounted for by IPEDS graduation rate data.
The National Student Clearinghouse provides more helpful data regarding student success: while including full-time student cohorts, part-time students are also considered, as well as students who combine the two modes, and data include information on students who are still enrolled, have transferred and are continuing their studies elsewhere or have graduated elsewhere. Six-year student outcomes, however, are still the norm.
Since 2013, WSCUC has worked with a tool developed by one of us -- John Etchemendy, provost at Stanford University and a WSCUC commissioner -- that allows an institution and our commission to get a fuller and more inclusive picture of student completion. That tool, the graduation rate dashboard, takes into account all students who receive an undergraduate degree from an institution, regardless of how they matriculate (first time or transfer) or enroll (full time or part time). It is a rich source of information, enabling institutions to identify enrollment, retention and graduation patterns of all undergraduate students and to see how those patterns are interrelated -- potentially leading to identifying and resolving issues that may be impeding student success.
Here’s how it works.
WSCUC collects six data points from institutions via our annual report, the baseline data tracked for all accredited, candidate and eligible institutions and referenced by WSCUC staff, peer evaluators and the commission during every accreditation review. On the basis of those data points, we calculate two completion measures: the unit redemption rate and the absolute graduation rate. The unit redemption rate is the proportion of units granted by an institution that are eventually “redeemed” for a degree from that institution. The absolute graduation rate is the proportion of students entering an institution who eventually -- a key word -- graduate from that institution.
The idea of the unit redemption rate is easy to understand. Ideally, every unit granted by an institution ultimately results in a degree (or certificate). Of course, no institution actually achieves this ideal, since students who drop out never “redeem” the units they take while enrolled, resulting in a URR below 100 percent. So the URR is an alternative way to measure completion, somewhat different from the graduation rate, since it counts units rather than students. But most important, it counts units that all students -- full time and part time, first time and transfer -- take and redeem.
Interestingly, using one additional data point (the average number of units taken by students who drop out), we can convert the URR into a graduation measure, the absolute graduation rate, which estimates the proportion of students entering a college or university (whether first time or transfer) who eventually graduate. Given the relationship between annual enrollment, numbers of units taken in a given year and the length of time it takes students to complete their degrees -- all of which vary -- the absolute graduation rate is presented as an average over eight years. While not an exact measure, it can be a useful one, especially when used alongside IPEDS data to get a more nuanced and complete picture of student success at an institution.
What is the advantage to using this tool? For an institution like Stanford -- where enrollments are relatively steady and the overwhelming majority of students enter as first-time, full-time students and then graduate in four years -- there is little advantage. In fact, IPEDS data and dashboard data look very similar for that type of institution: students enter, take roughly 180 quarter credits for an undergraduate degree and redeem all or nearly all of them for a degree in four years. For an institution serving a large transfer and/or part-time population, however, the dashboard can provide a fuller picture than ever before of student success. One of our region’s large public universities has a 2015 IPEDS six-year graduation rate of 30 percent, for example, while its absolute graduation rate for the year was 61 percent.
What accounts for such large discrepancies? For many WSCUC institutions, the IPEDS graduation rate takes into account fewer than 20 percent of the students who actually graduate. The California State University system, for example, enrolls large numbers of students who transfer from community colleges and other institutions. Those students are counted in the absolute graduation rate, but not in the IPEDS six-year rate.
As the dashboard includes IPEDS graduation rate data as well as the percentage of students included in the first-time, full-time cohort, it makes it possible to get a better picture of an institution’s student population as well as the extent to which IPEDS data are more or less reliable as indicators of student success at that institution.
Here’s an example: over the years between 2006 and 2013, at California State University Dominguez Hills, the IPEDS six-year graduation rate ranged between 24 percent and 35 percent. Those numbers, however, reflect only a small percentage of the university’s student population. The low of 24 percent in 2011 reflected only 7 percent of its students; the high of 35 percent in 2009 reflected just 14 percent. The eight-year IPEDS total over those years, reflecting 10 percent of the student population, was 30 percent.
In contrast, looking at undergraduate student completion using the dashboard, we see an absolute graduation rate of 61 percent -- double the IPEDS calculation. Clearly, the dashboard gives us a significantly different picture of student completion at that institution.
And there’s more. To complement our work with the dashboard, WSCUC staff members have begun work on triangulating dashboard data with data from the National Student Clearinghouse and IPEDS to look at student success from various angles. We recognize that all three of these tools have limitations and drawbacks as well as advantages: we’ve already noted the limitations of the IPEDS and National Student Clearinghouse data, as well as the benefit of the inclusion in the latter’s data of transfer students and students still enrolled after the six-year period. In addition, the data from both IPEDS and the clearinghouse can be disaggregated by student subpopulations of gender and ethnicity, as well as by institution type, which can be very beneficial in evaluating institutional effectiveness in supporting student success.
Pilot work has been done to plot an institution’s IPEDS and dashboard data in relation to the clearinghouse data, displayed as a box-and-whisker graph that provides the distribution of graduation rates regionally by quartile in order to give an indication of an institution’s success in graduating its students relative to peer institutions within the region. While care must be taken to understand and interpret the information provided through these data, we do believe that bringing them together in this way can be a powerful source of self-analysis, which can lead to institutional initiatives to improve student completion.
As noted, WSCUC has been working with the dashboard since 2013. While we are excited and encouraged regarding the benefits of the tool in providing a more complete and nuanced picture of student success, we also recognize that we have a great deal of work ahead of us to make the tool as useful as we believe it can be. After two pilot projects including a limited number of WSCUC-accredited institutions, the required collection of data by all WSCUC colleges and universities in 2015 revealed a number of challenges to institutions in submitting the correct data. The dashboard can be somewhat difficult to understand, especially for institutions with large shifts in enrollment patterns. And unlike National Student Clearinghouse data, dashboard data, at least at this point, cannot be disaggregated to reveal patterns of completion for various student subpopulations.
Such issues notwithstanding, we are encouraged by the value of the dashboard that we have seen to date and are committed to continuing to refine this tool. WSCUC staff members have given presentations both regionally and nationally on the dashboard, including one to IPEDS trainers to show them the possibilities of this tool to extend the data available nationally regarding student completion.
We are hopeful that other accreditors and possibly the NCES will find the dashboard a useful tool and, if so, adopt it as an additional completion measure for institutions across the country. In any case, we will continue to do this work regionally so as to not just complain about the available data but to also contribute to their improvement and usefulness.
Mary Ellen Petrisko is president of the WASC Senior College and University Commission. John Etchemendy is provost of Stanford University.
Temple University announced Tuesday that Hai-Lung Dai (right), the provost, "has been relieved of his administrative responsibilities effective immediately," The Philadelphia Inquirer reported. The same day, the university announced that it has committed to spending $22 million more on financial aid in 2016-17 than was planned in the budget. Officials said that aid commitments would be met, and that the overspending was due to more students enrolling who were eligible for non-need-based scholarships. Dai's lawyer said that he viewed the provost's dismissal "as rash and completely unjustified." The lawyer said Dai had achieved notable successes in recruiting top faculty members and building the university's research stature.
Universities grapple with providing subsidized health insurance to graduate students while complying with the Affordable Care Act. Seventeen U.S. senators urge the government to give institutions clarification.
The story is told of how, during an interview at a film festival in the 1960s, someone asked the avant-garde director Jean-Luc Godard, “But you must at least admit that a film has to have a beginning, a middle and an end?” To which Godard replied, “Yes, but not necessarily in that order.”
Touché! Creative tampering with established patterns of storytelling (or with audience expectations, which is roughly the same thing) is among the basic prerogatives of artistic expression -- one to be exercised at whatever risk of ticket buyers demanding their money back. Most of the examples of such tampering that Robert L. Belknap considers in Plots (Columbia University Press) are drawn from literary works now at least a century old. That we still read them suggests their narrative innovations worked -- so well, in fact, that they may go unnoticed now, taken as given. And the measure of Belknap’s excellence as a critic is how rewarding his close attention to them proves.
The late author, a professor of Slavic languages at Columbia University, delivered the three lectures making up Plots in 2011. Belknap’s preface to the book indicates that he considered the manuscript ready for publication at the time of his death in 2014. Plots has an adamantine quality, as if decades of thought and teaching were being crystallized and enormously compressed. Yet it is difficult to read the final paragraphs as anything but the author’s promise to say a great deal more.
Whether the lectures were offered as the overture to Belknap’s magnum opus or in lieu of one, Plots shuttles between narrative theory (from Aristotle to the Russian formalists) and narrative practice (Shakespeare and Dostoevsky, primarily) at terrific speed and with a necessary minimum of jargon. Because the jargon contains an irreducible core of the argument, we might as well start (even though Belknap does not) with the Russian formalists’ contrast between fabula and siuzhet.
Each can be translated as “plot.” The more or less standard sense of fabula, at least as I learned it in ancient times, is the series of events or actions as they might be laid out on a timeline. The author tweaks this a little by defining fabula as “the relationship among the incidents in the world the characters inhabit,” especially cause-and-effect relationships. By contrast, siuzhet is how events unfold within the literary narrative or, as Belknap puts it, “the relationship among the same incidents in the world of the text.”
To frame the contrast another way, siuzhet is how the story is told, while fabula is what “really” happened. The scare quotes are necessary because the distinction applies to fiction and drama as well as, say, memoir and documentary film. “In small forms, like fairy tales,” Belknap notes, fabula and siuzhet “tend to track one another rather closely, but in larger forms, like epics or novels, they often diverge.” (Side note: A good deal of short fiction is also marked by that divergence. An example that comes to mind is “The Tell-Tale Heart” by Edgar Allan Poe, where the siuzhet of the narrator’s account of what happened and why is decidedly different from the fabula to be worked out by the police appearing at the end of the story.)
Belknap returns to Aristotle for the original effort to understand the emotional impact of a certain kind of siuzhet: the ancient tragedies. An effective drama, by the philosopher’s lights, depicted the events of a single day, in a single place, through a sequence of actions so well integrated that no element could be omitted without the whole narrative coming apart. “This discipline in handling the causal relationship between incidents,” says Belknap, “produces the sense of inevitability that characterizes the strongest tragedies.” The taut siuzhet chronicling a straightforward fabula reconciled audiences to the workings of destiny.
Turning Aristotle’s analysis into a rule book, as happened in later centuries, was like forcing playwrights to wear too-small shoes. The fashion could not last. In the second lecture, Belknap turns to Shakespeare, who found another way to work:
“He sacrificed the causal tightness that had served classic drama so well in order to build thematic tightness around parallel plots. Usually the parallel plots involve different social levels -- masters and servants, kings and courtiers, supernatural beings and humans -- and usually the plots are not too parallel to intersect occasionally and interact causally at some level, though never enough to satisfy Aristotle’s criterion that if any incident be removed, the whole plot of the play should cease to make sense …. Similarity in plots can be represented as the overlap between two areas, and those areas may be broken down into individual points of similarity, dissimilarity, contrast, etc. Without knowing it, a Shakespearean audience is making such analyses all the time it watches a play, and the points of overlap and contrast enter their awareness.”
It’s not clear whether Belknap means to include the modern Shakespearean audience -- possibly not, since contemporary productions tend to trim down the secondary plots, if not eliminate them. But the Bard had other devices in hand for complicating fabula-siuzhetarrangements -- including what Belknap identifies as “a little-discussed peculiarity of Shakespearean plotting, the use of lies.” In both classical and Shakespearean drama, there are crucial scenes in which a character’s identity or situation is revealed to others whose confusion or deception has been important for the plot. But whereas mistakes and lies “are about equally prevalent” in the ancient plays, Shakespeare has a clear preference: “virtually every recognition scene is generated primarily out of a lie, not an error.”
In a striking elaboration of that point, Belknap treats the lie as a kind of theatrical performance -- “a little drama, with at least the rudiments of a plot” -- that often “express[es] facts about the liar, the person lied to or the person lied about.” The lie is a manipulative play within a play in miniature. And in Hamlet, at least, the (literal) play within a play is the prince’s means of trying to force his uncle to tell the truth.
Now, such intricate developments at the level of form also involve changes in how the writer and the audience understand the world (and, presumably, themselves). The Shakespearean cosmos gets messier than that of classical drama, but loosening the chains of cause and effect does not create absolute chaos. The motives and consequences of the characters’ actions make manifest their otherwise hidden inner lives. To put it another way, mutations in siuzhet (how the story is told) reflect changes in fabula (what really happens in the world) and vice versa. Belknap suggests -- tongue perhaps not entirely in cheek -- that Shakespeare was on the verge of inventing the modern psychological novel and might have, had he lived a few more years.
By the final lecture, on Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment, Belknap has come home to his area of deepest professional interest. (He wrote two well-regarded monographs on The Brothers Karamazov.) Moving beyond his analysis of parallel plots in Shakespeare, he goes deep into the webs of allusion and cross-referencing among Russian authors of the 19th century to make the case that Crime and Punishment contains a much more deliberate narrative architecture than it is credited with having. (Henry James’s characterization of Russian novels as “fluid puddings” undoubtedly applies.)
He even makes a bid for the novel epilogue as being aesthetically and thematically integral to the book as a whole. Other readers may find that argument plausible. I’ll just say that Plots reveals that with Belknap’s death, we lost a critic and literary historian of great power and considerable ingenuity.