A student at Emmanuel College has used a public Facebook post to say that she'll be leaving the college because of its finding that a student she accused of rape was not responsible for sexual assault. “It is clear to me that you value your reputation more than you value your community. The compassion that you spoke so strongly about in the beginning of my time with you was only skin-deep. You host events that 'empower' women like myself to speak freely of issues like sex and race, but these are just empty words,” says the Facebook post by Joanna Vandyke. The post is being widely shared, along with comments criticizing the college.
The college issued a statement to Boston.com in which it said, “We are deeply concerned about the statements recently presented by a student on social media. There were more aspects to the account than what was shared on social media by this single party. The facts in this case overwhelmingly supported the Student Conduct Board’s conclusion.”
Vandyke told Boston.com she met the student she accused of rape on Tinder and that she was sexually assaulted after they were drinking and smoking pot together. The student whom Vandyke accused of rape, in a written statement that she released to Boston.com, said they had sex three times that night. He said that they did not formally discuss consent, but that she pointed at and grabbed his genitals.
Lincoln University -- a historically black university located in Jefferson City, Mo. -- suspended its major in history on its 150th anniversary. Explaining why that step was necessary, the president of the university emphasized, “We must make decisions like these as we look toward the future and the needs of the changing workforce.” Embedded within that statement is a declaration about higher education and its purpose: higher education should make good, high-paid workers. We should step back and ask whether this is really what we want from higher education.
Since I took my first academic position in 2010, I have continually heard in the news media, from visiting speakers and many other people that transforming students into employees is the purpose of higher education. Whenever I hear this, I cannot help but recall one particular graduate seminar when we discussed the writings of Marxist Louis Althusser. The discussion turned to higher education, and some people in the class claimed higher education was little more than part of a plot to provide good and obedient workers to the bourgeoisie. At the time, I thought that was overly reductive. I mean, we were talking about the supposed conspiracy of the bourgeoisie in class at an institution of higher education; surely this was not part of the plan.
Once I got my first academic job, however, I learned that this really was the perennial question in higher education. What should our general education curriculum look like? On which majors should we focus our resources? The answer was always put in the form of another question -- what do employers want from our graduates?
Perhaps because of the rising costs of higher education, politicians have increasingly said that the point of higher education is for students to make lots of money in their chosen careers. Is that what we want from higher education? Maybe a better question would be is that the only thing we want from higher education?
In her recent article in The American Historian, Nancy F. Cott indicates it is hard for humanities degrees -- like history -- to compete with degrees related to engineering if the only significant variable is potential earnings. One study found that throughout their careers, engineers consistently earned more than graduates in the humanities. But then, not everyone wants to be an engineer. As Cott phrased it, neither would we really want “to see an educated world populated by engineers only.” The fact is people educated in the humanities go on to important, although often not quite as lucrative, careers in education, government, law and a host of other interesting and relevant occupations.
Since students enter into significant debt to earn their diplomas, it seems reasonable for students to expect some return on their often significant investments. I hope as we review what we value in education, however, we do not simply ask which majors lead to the most lucrative careers.
Du Bois and Shaping Lives in the Present
What is higher education for? Should it exist solely for the purpose of manufacturing workers who make the greatest amount of money? It’s not a new question. It’s one that the renowned African-American historian W. E. B. Du Bois wrestled with in his speech commemorating Lincoln University’s 75th anniversary in 1941. He worried that the temptation would “come and recur to make an institution like this, a means of earning a living or of adding to income rather than an institution of learning.” Du Bois believed the kind of students Lincoln produced would end up changing the world for the better -- that it would be Lincoln students who would “show the majority the way of life.” Not from privileged and “powerful groups which from time to time rule the world have come salvation and culture,” he said, “but from the still small voice of the oppressed and the determined who knew more than to die and plan more than mere survival.” In short, Du Bois hoped that Lincoln would become “a center where the cultural outlook of this country is to be changed and uplifted and helped in the reconstruction of the world.”
Why did Du Bois believe that students at a university like Lincoln would be so influential? Du Bois recognized the power of history to shape lives in the present, and he rightly believed that this nation needed more diverse students if the status quo was ever going to change. In Du Bois’s day, history was being used to justify violence against African-Americans. In 1915, the original version of The Birth of a Nation premiered in the United States. In that movie, President Woodrow Wilson’s book History of the American People was regularly quoted. Audiences around the country saw Wilson declare through this movie that Reconstruction had been a misguided failure during which “the negroes were the office holders, men who knew none of the uses of authority, except its insolences.”
Wilson and many other people in the academy were part of what eventually became known as the Dunning School of Reconstruction History. For William Dunning, the historian for whom the broader school was named, Reconstruction was a failure because great numbers of the recently emancipated slaves “gave themselves up to testing their freedom. They wandered aimless but happy through the country.”
According to Dunning, it was Southern whites who “devoted themselves with desperate energy to the procurement of what must sustain the life of both themselves and their former slaves.” Lesson learned: black political participation meant misery for all, but exclusive white control meant the best for both black and white Southerners. The Dunning School of Reconstruction History justified the exclusion of black people from politics, and it implicitly justified the violence used to maintain that exclusion.
W. E. B. Du Bois labored to contradict those impressions. In his now widely read TheSouls of Black Folks, Du Bois argued that it was not the irresponsible silliness of black people that doomed Reconstruction but rather the impossible problems facing the recently freed slaves. Reflecting upon the failure of efforts to make Southern African-Americans truly free, Du Bois noted that the Freedmen’s Bureau could not even “begin the establishment of goodwill between ex-masters and freedmen,” and perhaps most important, it could not “carry out to any considerable extent its implied promises to furnish the freedmen with land.”
Adding to the impossible challenge was the fact that much of the legislation created during Reconstruction was intended to punish the white South rather than empower the recently emancipated. As viewed by Du Bois, black equality was a cudgel used to punish the rebellious South rather than a goal in and of itself. Without any real support for black equality in either the North or the South, how could we expect anything but failure from Reconstruction? Because of those failures, black people suffered under the weight of white supremacy.
White historians largely ignored Du Bois’s conclusions for years; it was not until higher education expanded to include a wide swath of the American population -- due in large part to the GI Bill -- that more historians came to accept what he had long argued. Today, the vast majority of historians of Reconstruction accept his premise that many capable black politicians participated in the Reconstruction. Many worked to expand roads and education to include a plurality of the Southern population. At the time, their opponents saw this as waste and corruption, but the vision of those black politicians more closely aligned with our own expectations. We -- like they -- expect our governments to maintain public roads and public education. History looks different from the bottom up.
Reversing Dominant Narratives
Du Bois did not mention the degree in history specifically in his speech in 1941, but his life’s work demonstrated the importance he placed upon the historical imagination. He correctly predicted that making the academy more diverse would change the world for the better. History has been used to justify white supremacy, and it has been used to undermine it as well. As the population of historians changed, so too has the accepted narrative of the academy. That’s why Du Bois did not ask what majors earned the most money upon graduation but had a loftier vision for Lincoln’s future. America needed impassioned graduates from schools like Lincoln. Someone had to help reverse the dominant narratives prevalent in 1941 about black inferiority.
On Lincoln University’s 75th anniversary, Du Bois provided a powerful argument in favor of empowering Lincoln’s students to go and change the world. I fear that the end of history at Lincoln University means students will have less ability to do so in the future. That saddens me, because our national history is particularly relevant today. In 2016, a reinterpretation of The Birth of a Nation is set to debut and likely make radically different claims than its 1915 namesake. Why did the creators of this new movie -- which will document the slave rebellion led by Nat Turner -- give it that name? In 2016, some people have suggested that the civil rights movement of the 1960s was relatively short and its goals were largely accomplished. How then do we explain the emergence of the Black Lives Matter movement? Do these protesters fail to understand just how racially progressive our country has become? In 2016, some politicians have suggested that the United States is a nation founded by white ideas -- or “Western civilization” -- and people of color are guests. Are they right?
Our history as a nation has been used to answer those kinds of questions, and someone is going to be answering these questions in the future. In addition to asking what employers want our graduates to do, we should also ask whom we want to answer such important questions.
Graduates -- whether in the humanities, sciences or engineering -- will continue to get relevant and interesting jobs. Some will get paid more than others. In finding the right major, students will have to make strategic choices about what they want for their lives. Having spoken with many students, I know many are not so single-mindedly focused upon profit. Many have more philanthropic purposes in mind for their education. By so circumscribing the range of possibilities, however, we are creating a future in which Lincoln’s graduates will be able to get jobs but maybe not make history.
J. Mark Leslie is an associate professor of history at Lincoln University.
Florida National University does not infringe the trademark of Florida International University, a federal appeals court ruled Tuesday. Florida International, a sprawling public university in Miami, successfully prodded what was then called Florida International College to change its name to Florida National College with a similar lawsuit in 1989.
But the U.S. Court of Appeals, backing a 2014 ruling by a federal district court, ruled Tuesday that the institutions' names are different enough to avoid confusion, given that there are 12 colleges or universities with both "Florida" and "university" in their names and that the words "international" and "national" are sufficiently different.
Fisk University sparked controversy several years ago when it tried to sell off parts of its collection of Georgia O'Keeffe paintings to help solve its financial problems; the sale was ultimately blocked by a judge and the university wound up sharing its collection with an Arkansas museum in exchange for an infusion of cash.
But as the university was negotiating that legal arrangement, its president at the time quietly sold two other paintings, The New York Timesreported. The sale was not reported at the time, and the Times quotes the director of another university's museum as saying that the Fisk sale was "very much against the ethics of our profession."
The Fisk situation was one of several in recent years that have raised questions of whether colleges or universities can try to transform art donated to them into assets they can use to support themselves.
Competency-based education can expand opportunities and enhance learning for nontraditional students while also being a boon for workforce development, said a majority of leaders at 251 colleges that are active or interested in the emerging form of higher education delivery. But the pace of adoption of competency-based courses and programs remains gradual, said most respondents to the survey conducted by Ellucian, Eduventures and the American Council on Education. One in four of the institutions surveyed have competency-based academic programs in place, and 37 percent said they use competency-based courses.
The U.S. Department of Education on Tuesday said it was cutting off federal student aid eligibility at three Medtech College campuses, located in Maryland, Virginia and Washington, D.C. A department investigation found "egregious misrepresentation of job placement rates" by the Medtech campuses, alleging that the for-profit college overstated placement rates to its accreditor, the department and prospective students.
The three campuses enroll a total of roughly 750 students, the department said, and received about $16 million in federal grant and loan aid in 2014-15. To continue to be eligible for federal aid at its other campus locations, the company must post a letter of credit equal to 80 percent of its annual federal aid revenue, worth about $37 million.
In this hypothetical case study, Barbara McFadden Allen, Ruth Watkins and Robin Kaler explain how college leaders can -- and must -- surround themselves with a team of wise people with competing viewpoints.
Adams State University in Colorado has agreed to rescind a no-trespass order against a former adjunct professor of communications and pay him a $100,000 settlement based on claims that it violated his free speech and due process rights. The American Civil Liberties Union represented the professor, Danny Ledonne, in his suit, which alleged that he was banned from campus in 2015 because he criticized the university’s pay practices online. The university accused Ledonne of harassment.
“By summarily banning [Ledonne] from a public campus and falsely labeling him a security threat, without providing any opportunity to rebut the false allegations, the university deprived him of due process and unjustifiably retaliated against him for his constitutionally protected criticism of university practices,” Mark Silverstein of the Colorado ACLU said in a statement.
A university spokesperson said in a separate statement Monday that the judge “ruled there was no wrongdoing on the part of Adams State University or our administration. The insurance company settled this as a nuisance case.”
Riding my bike last fall, I started thinking about momentum. In physics, momentum is “the product of the mass and velocity of an object,” and the greater that product, the more force is needed to stop the object. That certainly applies to my bike when I try to surmount hills by beginning them at high speed, but does the term also apply to students trying to finish their college degrees?
Perhaps it is not students’ momentum but their growing vision of the top of the hill -- the approaching sight of graduation day -- that energizes them to attain their goals. Perhaps we should consider motivating students by focusing on what they have left to do, as opposed to, or in addition to, what they have already done for graduation. Perhaps we should focus on making learning more efficient, so that graduation day arrives more quickly.
At least since 1999, when Clifford Adelman published his groundbreaking monograph Answers in the Tool Box: Academic Intensity, Attendance Patterns and Bachelor’s Degree Attainment, the term “momentum” has been used to describe the increased probability of students finishing their college degrees that accompanies credit accumulation. More specifically, Adelman found that students were likely to finish their degrees -- their graduation trajectory was harder to interrupt -- if they accumulated at least 20 credits in their first year of college.
Since Adelman’s 1999 monograph, numerouspublications have used the concept of academic momentum and similar concepts to help explain why students do or do not finish their degrees and to suggest ways in which we can help them to do so. An especially insightful paper is one by Paul Attewell, Scott Heil and Liza Reisel entitled “What Is Academic Momentum? And Does It Matter?” It shows that data confirm the central claims of momentum theory. For example, Attewell, Heil and Reisel found that the number of courses attempted by students in their first college semester predicts the rate at which students cumulate credits over subsequent years. Also consistent with momentum theory is the more general finding that the more credits accumulated, the more likely is graduation. (It was knowledge of this principle that once led a college’s chief operating officer to tell me that the way to increase that college’s unsatisfactory graduation rate was obviously to admit only students who had accumulated a great many credits.)
Although momentum-like concepts have been useful in explaining college students’ and others’ goal-related behavior, the variable of accumulated credits, which predicts college graduation, may be correlated with a different variable. And it is therefore also possible that that latter variable is as useful, or even more useful, in understanding how to help students graduate.
More specifically, note that if it takes 120 credits to finish a degree, saying you are more likely to finish that degree if you have accumulated at least 20 credits in your first year of college is mathematically equivalent to saying that you are more likely to finish that degree if, at the end of that first year, you have at most 100 credits left to earn. Perhaps it is focusing on what credits are left to earn, not the credits that have already been accumulated, that is most useful in promoting degree completion. Perhaps it is the pull exerted by a shorter period of time to graduation, rather than the push exerted by more cumulated credits, that most increases the likelihood of degree receipt.
In what follows I discuss those possibilities and their implications. Is the evidence consistent with the hypothesis that the time to the reward (or desired outcome or goal) of degree completion influences degree completion? What are some ways that we could better help students finish their degrees if that hypothesis turns out to be correct?
What the Research Tells Us
First let’s consider as a whole the body of work examining the effect of reward delay on behavior. For many decades, experiments have shown that reward delay has a strong effect on behavior. (See my book Self-Control: Waiting Until Tomorrow for What You Want Today.) Animals of all sorts -- including humans -- tend to choose an immediate reward over a delayed reward. When hungry, we prefer to eat now, not tomorrow, and the gaming industry knows what it is doing when it has our slot machine winnings immediately pour out into our hands instead of being delivered via a check that comes weeks later in the mail. We work harder to obtain less delayed, as opposed to more delayed, rewards, and we choose less delayed over more delayed rewards. A reward’s delay affects our motivation for that reward -- our tendency to do things to attain that reward as opposed to doing something else.
Research has also shown that when the reward delay is relatively short, small changes in the delay can have a big effect on obtaining that reward. But when the reward delay is long, small changes in the delay have relatively little effect on obtaining that reward. If such findings apply to credits and graduation, you would expect to see an accelerating probability of graduation as the remaining needed credits decrease. The evidence described above in which the probability of graduation increases as total cumulated credits increase is consistent with such a relationship. However, whether the rate at which the probability of graduation increases changes as reward delay decreases remains to be explored, and would be a useful research project.
More generally, the concept of motivation (someone’s tendency to choose to behave in a specific way) can help us understand what contributes to academic success. Being sufficiently motivated to engage in certain specific actions, not just the ability to learn new things, can be crucial to how well a student does in college. For example, students accepted to college need to actually start college, the opposite of the phenomenon known as summer melt. As another example, remedial courses can be no help to students if they do not enroll in them or finish them, and many students do not.
In fact, evidence suggests that students faced with a particularly time-consuming remedial intervention (which implies a particularly long delay to graduation), are less likely to even attend college. Further, coming to class (independent of what is done there) is a strong predictor of whether a student will pass the class, but unfortunately many students choose to be places other than their classrooms. Many students also suffer insurmountable financial difficulties in completing college because they do not complete, or even start, the FAFSA. And a common explanation for why high school grades, as opposed to one-shot tests, better predict college performance is that grades provide a better measure of students’ ability to stick to academic tasks over the long haul.
In other words, college grades, as opposed to tests, provide a better measure of the critical variable of motivation. The currently popular concept of grit, thought by many to be critical in academic success, is essentially a measure of motivation as it relates to delayed large rewards. The Wikipedia definition for grit is “a positive, noncognitive trait based on an individual's passion for a particular long-term goal or end state, coupled with a powerful motivation to achieve their respective objective.”
Motivating Students to Succeed
For all of those reasons, the concept of motivation seems a useful approach to understanding how to help college students succeed and graduate, and reward delay seems to be a vital determinant of students’ motivation. As summarized by William Bowen and Michael McPherson in their insightful new book, Lesson Plan: An Agenda for Change in American Higher Education, “It is highly likely that the prospect of long time to degree deters some students from ever starting -- never mind finishing -- their degree programs, and thus contributes directly to low overall levels of educational attainment.”
Focusing on decreasing the delay to graduation instead of on credit accumulation is consistent with the success of some specific interventions in increasing college student success. Two examples are the City University of New York’s ASAP (Accelerated Study in Associate Programs) and CUNY Start programs. Both require academic progress by students that is more rapid than usual. ASAP does so by requiring all students to attend full time. CUNY Start requires its students, all of whom have multiple remedial needs, to attend remedial classes 25 hours per week, with a goal of completing all remedial course work within one semester. Both programs emphasize decreasing the time to degree. A rigorous randomized controlled trial has shown ASAP to approximately double associate-degree graduation rates, and quasi-experimental data have also shown CUNY Start to be effective (a randomized controlled trial is in progress).
More generally, research has shown that developmental education that is compressed (e.g., taught in shorter terms), accelerated (e.g., skips lower-level courses and provides tutoring instead) and streamlined (eliminates unnecessary topics) -- all of which should decrease the perceived time to graduation -- is effective in increasing progress toward graduation. The positive effects on graduation of college credits earned from Advanced Placement and high school dual enrollment courses are also consistent with the concept that decreasing the delay to graduation is useful in increasing behaviors that result in graduation. Further, identifying and requiring students to follow clear paths to graduation, which should increase students’ perceived efficiency of time needed to receive a degree, has been found to be effective in increasing graduation rates, as discussed at length in Thomas Bailey, Shanna Jaggars and Davis Jenkins’s well-received book, Redesigning America’s Community Colleges: A Clearer Path to Student Success. (Note that it’s perceived efficiency andperceived reward delay that will affect students’ behavior, not actual efficiency or delay.)
It isn’t actually clear precisely why decreasing delay to graduation (or to any goal or reward) would increase the probability of graduation. Less time to graduation may increase the frequency of behaviors such as studying that are essential to graduating, an example of the increased pull from a less-delayed reward mentioned above. Alternatively, or in addition, receipt of the reward may become more likely as reward delay decreases because there is a shorter period of time during which other events can interfere with receiving the reward.
More time to graduation also provides more opportunities for a student’s close relative to become ill, for a student’s car to require unaffordable repairs and for someone to offer a student a low-paying but immediately available full-time job. As stated by Complete College America, “Time is the enemy of college completion … The longer it takes, the more life gets in the way of success.”
Those two possible mechanisms -- more proximate rewards increasing behaviors likely to obtain the rewards, and more proximate rewards decreasing the opportunities for outside events to interfere with reward attainment -- may be related. You may not be motivated to work for a reward that you are unlikely to get. In one experiment, experienced provosts were more likely to choose a smaller, more immediate amount of money for their units as opposed to a larger, more delayed amount of money, possibly because they had learned that their units were unlikely ever to receive future promised money.
For our purposes right now, the essential, overall point is simply that decreasing the delay of a reward is more likely to increase the receipt of the reward. However, exploration of the mechanisms responsible for any such effects -- whether people are more motivated by less delayed rewards and/or whether outside events are less likely to interfere with receipt of less delayed rewards -- should prove useful in the future.
Strategies That May Help
Psychology research provides general guidance about how to help someone engage in the behaviors needed to attain a delayed goal. Evidence-based strategies include reminding the person of the delayed goal (again see my book Self-Control: Waiting Until Tomorrow for What You Want Today), monitoring progress to the goal frequently, reporting or making public that monitoring and physically recording the results of that monitoring. Consistent with those recommendations, when I’m on my bike, if a hill looks high above me and far away, I estimate the number of seconds to reach the top, then look directly down at the ground (so that the incline is not so apparent) and count the number of seconds that I pedal, impressing upon myself how quickly the number of seconds left to the top is decreasing.
More specifically with regard to degree attainment, if reward delay is important in motivating students to complete their degrees, then a useful strategy might be to help students frame their progress in terms of what is left rather than what has already been completed. For example, perhaps class status (freshman, sophomore, junior, senior) should be defined by how many credits are left for the degree rather than by how many credits have been accumulated, as is usually done.
Reminders about the goal of graduation, and having students repeatedly monitor the credits remaining for their degrees, may also be useful. We need to help students think about how much they have left to do and not just how much they have completed. Further, without in any way sacrificing learning quality, we need to do everything possible to help what is left to be done take as short a time as possible -- and to be perceived by students as taking as short a time as possible. And we need to continue to conduct research about the best ways to do all of this. The current six-year bachelor’s degree national graduation rate of only 59 percent is not acceptable.
Time -- how long something takes, how much time has passed and how much time is left --- can be a useful way to organize and make use of the evidence about what does and does not increase graduation rates. Academic momentum measured as cumulated credits may have been a useful concept for increasing college success, but it is time for us to also consider using delay to graduation as a factor that influences whether students graduate. The top of the hill may not actually pull my bike up, but thinking that the top isn’t far away sure helps me keep pedaling.
Alexandra W. Logue is a research professor at the Center for Advanced Study in Education at the CUNY Graduate Center.