There has been much talk of the “online revolution” in higher education. While there is a place for online education, some of its boosters anticipate displacing the traditional campus altogether. A close reading of their arguments, however, makes clear that many share what might be called the “individualist fallacy,” both in their understanding of how students learn and how professors teach.
Of course, individualism has a long, noble heritage in American history. From the “age of the self-made man” onward, we have valued those who pull themselves up by their own bootstraps. But, as Warren Buffett has made clear, even the most successful individuals depend heavily on the cultural, economic, legal, political, and social contexts in which they act. This is as true for Buffett as it is for other so-called self-made men as Bill Gates. And it is certainly true for students.
But many advocates of online learning ignore this simple point. The economist Richard Vedder, for example, believes that being on campus is only useful for “making friends, partying, drinking, and having sex.” Anya Kamenetz, in her book DIY U, celebrates the day when individuals are liberated from the constraints of physical campuses, while Gates anticipates that “five years from now on the Web for free you’ll be able to find the best lectures in the world. It will be better than any single university.”
For an alternative view
on online education, read this essay appearing
elsewhere on the site today.
These advocates of online higher education forget the importance of institutional culture in shaping how people learn. College is about more than accessing information; it’s about developing an attitude toward knowledge.
There is a difference between being on a campus with other students and teachers committed to learning and sitting at home. Learning, like religion, is a social experience. Context matters. No matter how much we might learn about God and our obligations from the Web, it is by going to church and being surrounded by other congregants engaged in similar questions, under the guidance of a thoughtful, caring pastor, that we really change. Conversion is social, and so is learning.
Like all adults, students will pursue many activities during their time on campus, but what distinguishes a college is that it embodies ideals distinct from the rest of students’ lives. If we take college seriously, we need people to spend time in such places so that they will leave different than when they entered.
Some argue that large lecture courses make a mockery of the above claims. Admittedly, in a better world, there would be no large lecture courses. Still, this argument misleads for several reasons. First, it generalizes from one kind of course, ignoring the smaller class sizes at community colleges and the upper-division courses in which students interact closely with each other and their professors. Second, it dismisses the energy of being in a classroom, even a large one, with real people when compared to being on our own. Even in large classes, good teachers push their students to think by asking probing questions, modeling curiosity, and adapting to the class’s needs. Finally, it disregards the importance of the broader campus context in which all classes, large and small, take place.
The goal of bringing students to campus for several years is to immerse them in an environment in which learning is the highest value, something online environments, no matter how interactive, cannot simulate. Real learning is hard; it requires students to trust each other and their teachers. In other words, it depends on relationships. This is particularly important for the liberal arts.
Of course, as Richard Arum and Josipa Roksa’s recent study Academically Adrift makes clear, there are great variations in what college students are learning. All too often, higher education does not fulfill our aspirations. But none of the problems Arum and Roksa identify are ones that online higher education would solve. As Arum and Roksa make clear, students learn more on campuses where learning is valued and expectations are high. If anything, we need to pay more attention to institutional culture because it matters so much.
This does not mean that we should reject technology when it can further learning, as in new computer programs that help diagnose students’ specific stumbling blocks. But computers will never replace the inspiring, often unexpected, conversations that happen among students and between students and teachers on campuses. Because computers are not interpretive moral beings, they cannot evaluate assignments in which students are asked to reflect on complicated ideas or come up with new ones, especially concerning moral questions. Fundamentally, computers cannot cultivate curiosity because machines are not curious.
Technology is a tool, not an end in itself. As the computer scientist Jaron Lanier has written in his book You Are Not A Gadget, computers exist to support human endeavors, not the other way around. Many techno-utopists proclaim that computers are becoming smarter, more human, but Lanier wonders whether that is because we tend to reduce our human horizons to interact with our machines. This certainly is one of the dangers of online higher education.
The individualist fallacy applies not just to online advocates’ understandings of students, but also their conception of what makes great teachers and scholars. Vedder, for example, echoes Gates in his hope that someday there will be a Wikipedia University, or that the Gates Foundation will start a university in which a few “star professors” are paid to teach thousands of students across the nation and world. Of course, this has been happening since the invention of cassette tapes that offer “the great courses.” This is hardly innovative, nor does it a college education make.
Vedder ignores how star professors become great. How do they know what to teach and to write? Their success, like Buffett’s, is social: they converse with and read and rely on the work of hundreds, even thousands, of other scholars. Read their articles and books, listen to their lectures, and you can discern how deeply influenced and how dependent they are on the work of their peers. In short, there would be no star professors absent an academy of scholars committed to research.
Schools like the online, Gates Foundation-funded Western Governors University free-ride off the expensive, quality research completed by traditional professors when they rely on open course ware and curricula. Take away the professors, and many online schools will teach material that is out of date or inaccurate or, worse, hand control over to other entities who are not interested in promoting the truth -- from textbook companies seeking to maximize sales to coal and pharmaceutical companies offering their own curriculums for “free.”
The Web and new technologies are great tools; they have made more information more accessible to more people. This is to be celebrated. Citizens in a democracy should be able to access as much information as freely as possible. A democratic society cannot allow scholars, or anyone else, to be the gatekeepers to knowledge.
Certainly, we will expand online higher education, if for no other reason than because wealthy foundations like Gates and ambitious for-profit entities are putting their money and power behind it. For certain students, especially working adults pursuing clearly defined vocational programs rather than a liberal arts education, online programs may allow opportunities that they would have otherwise foregone. But online higher education will never replace, much less replicate, what happens on college campuses.
Even as we expand online, therefore, we must deepen our commitment to those institutions that cultivate a love of learning in their students, focus on the liberal arts, and produce the knowledge that online and offline teaching requires.
Today, our public colleges and universities are facing some of the toughest challenges they have ever encountered. The choices they make about how they deliver quality education to the millions of students who depend on them will determine whether our country will continue to be a global economic leader, or whether other countries will surpass us in postsecondary achievement. Rising costs and reduced government funding in the wake of an economic recession have resulted in financial burdens that our state universities have never known before, and it is clear that funding is unlikely to return to pre-recession levels. These financial realities are compounded by tech-savvy students demanding a high-quality education when, where and how they want it. Today’s students live lives that are divorced from the static, brick-and-mortar reality of institutions built for 19thcentury economic circumstances, leading Ralph Wolff, president of the Western Association of Schools and Colleges, to conclude, “Our business model is broken.”
Another Perspective For an alternative view on online education, read this essay appearing elsewhere on the site today.
Addressing these issues in their entirety will take time, but today -- right now -- colleges and universities must embrace new digital and online delivery tools to make educational content available to degree-seeking students wherever they are, whenever they need it. Doing so will allow colleges and universities to raise revenue, increase access and contribute to America’s long-term competitiveness.
The 2010 U.S. Department of Education’s “Review of Online Learning Studies” found that students who took all or part of a course online perform better, on average, than those taking the same course through traditional face-to-face instruction. Similarly, a study conducted in the same year by the internationally known scholars Mickey Shachar and Yoram Neumann that analyzed 20 years of research on the topic showed that in 70 percent of the cases, students who took distance-learning courses outperformed their counterparts who took courses in a traditional environment.
Evidence like this cannot be ignored.
This new technology-powered business model meets the needs of tech-savvy, far-flung, diverse student populations with minimal investment in infrastructure, since dormitories, laboratories and classrooms are not needed for this model to deliver real results.
Most degree-seeking individuals today no longer fit the traditional image of a college student who goes directly from high school to a four-year college or university, lives in a dormitory, eats in a dining hall, and walks from building to building for instruction.
In fact, the vast majority of today’s students fall outside of that paradigm. According to a 2008 U.S. Department of Education study, nontraditional students make up 70 percent of the undergraduate population. Nearly half of them are financially independent; 34 percent work full-time; and 25 percent have dependents of their own. Online degree programs would allow these students, and countless others, to take classes at their convenience while earning a degree from a program with the same admission and graduation requirements as their on-campus counterparts.
The technology is available to make this vision a reality now, and it should be adopted by public colleges and universities so that they can survive and thrive in the short term, while increasing access and revenue, as they take steps to address the other issues they face.
Michael Crow, the innovative president of Arizona State University, is already taking action to ensure that the university will continue to flourish in this digital future. In response to the “new normal,” Crow has called for a “new American university” where access trumps elitism and universities are measured by whom they include rather than by whom they exclude. He is also pushing his institution to reach large, diverse populations by offering online degree programs to those who are unable to attend on-campus classes.
Increasing the utilization of technology and online learning, Crow argues, brings down costs, increases access and leads to successful student outcomes. Arizona State’s goal is to incorporate 30,000 fully online students by 2020, a tenfold increase from today. In addition, thousands of on-campus students would supplement and expand their options by taking some of their courses online.
Arizona State is not alone.
In August, University of Texas System Chancellor Francisco Cigarroa laid out a broad framework that focused in large part on increasing access and accountability. The “Framework for Advancing Excellence throughout the University of Texas System” was unanimously approved by the board of regents, receiving praise from both inside and outside the system, as well as a $243.6 million funding commitment for projects within the framework targeted at enhancing student outcomes and excellence across the system. We hope this is only the beginning of our public colleges and universities acknowledging, as Cigarroa did, that “We must change how we teach future generations of students.”
Setting up the technology needed to deliver high-quality instruction is daunting, but it is a challenge that can be easily managed using the right resources. We believe the answer is public/private partnerships, which was the approach taken by the University of Texas System when many of its campuses decided to start moving courses online. Partnerships like theirs allow the university to maintain control of the content, instructional materials, and admissions standards, while leaving the implementation to the experts.
While state institutions have been analyzing the situation, for-profit universities have seemingly exploded onto the education scene. They have appeared in markets underserved by our public colleges and universities and have launched technology solutions with only other for-profit universities as competition. The time is now for our state universities to capitalize on their proud histories and strong brands and reclaim a portion of that market share by providing broader access to high-quality instruction delivered by the same faculty members who teach on-campus classes.
Our public universities must adopt a new business model that will allow them to return to sound financial footing while addressing the variety of other challenges they now face. Online education may not remedy all that ails the system, but we are convinced that a good dose of it would go a long way.
A recent essay here by Robert Archibald and David Feldman challenged the idea of a "higher education bubble." They argued that a degree, even an expensive degree, is still worth it. They correctly pointed out that a degree is not an asset that responds to supply and demand like other markets. Their point that "on average most of us are average, and the data show that college is a very good investment for the average person," is true enough. But their real message was: there’s no need to panic, the status quo is still working. I disagree.
Said essay is part of a broader continuing discussion, this round set off by Peter Thiel's statements surrounding his 20 Under 20 Program encouraging students to "stop out" of college – with the idea that they are more likely to achieve entrepreneurial breakthroughs on their own than with more formal education.
Thiel is a managing partner at one of the venture investors, Founders Fund, in my company, Inigral. Ironically, Inigral serves educational institutions with our Schools App, and most of our clients are traditional colleges and universities. (Schools App is a community platform inside Facebook and on mobile devices that helps to welcome the incoming class during the admissions, orientation, and first-year experience, making sure students find their “fit” and get off on the right foot.) So my company helps keep students in college while Thiel is going around talking about the potential value of "stopping out."
Given this irony, people often ask me what I think about Thiel’s comments suggesting that higher education is in a bubble. Here's what I think: He is mostly right, but the future prospects for education are more optimistic than Thiel suggests for two primary reasons: 1) Though it looks like an economic bubble, it's unlikely that there will be a precise moment in which the market crashes. Instead, there will be a slow market shift towards amorphous market entrants that can deliver relevant, quality education conveniently and affordably. 2) There's a path forward if folks in higher education understand the processes of both disruption and change management.
Thiel's critique of higher education isn’t that degrees have no value. It’s about whether the industry is ripe for disruption, which I have defined in the context of education here. Thiel correctly observes that higher education is a market with unsustainable price increases based on irrational confidence. It’s true. Tuition has grown at rates that astound and outrage since the early '90s, and these prices seem unable to turn course. Our system incentivizes institutions to pursue selectivity, gargantuan research, and increased spending per student (small class sizes, student services, physical plant).
As of yet, there's no market mechanism to reward high levels of student success for the least possible cost. This is irrational. Thiel’s critique is based on an unstated assumption: market forces are starting to unleash on institutions that have not had to learn to thrive in a post-Internet, mobile device-oriented, and competitive marketplace. Indeed, few are currently asking themselves the important questions and embarking upon the dramatic transformations that will allow them to thrive.
This bubble is not going to suddenly crash; degrees are not normal assets that can be bought and sold on the open market. Even more importantly, the irrational confidence in education is founded on some fundamental truths: education produces opportunities for individuals, an educated population can both compete globally and provide a great foundation for democracy, and I would add that an education is an end in itself -- a transformative process that provides a near-priceless value. To boot, almost all of our nation's postsecondary institutions are filled with smart people who can not only survive, but also thrive if given the right road map, tools and opportunity.
Higher education should be transforming as quickly as it can. Whether or not there's a "bubble" that will be dramatically "popped" does not change the bold reality of an oncoming future, what I propose to call the Great Disruption.
Here's a suggested survival guide:
First, regard any continuing education programs, night school, certifications, or alternative models of education as start-ups within your organization. If you don't have one already, start a fully online program. Allow these groups to act as independent entities that can explore different models of how to educate and serve students. Hire the best, smartest, and most courageous people to run them. Allow them to innovate, and have your main operation learn from their innovation actively. Do not assume that their models cannot inform your traditions, because the speed at which traditional institutions learn to adopt these new models will determine how healthy they can stay when the full market forces of disruption start to occur.
Second, embrace "blended learning" and competency-based assessment. Move away from seat-time-based models in an attempt to bring rapid cost efficiency, especially to our more generic courses. We're already trying to teach our "Econ 101" courses to 500 students at a time. Why not go at them with even more scalable models to the point where one course can serve nearly unlimited numbers of students? It’s already possible through lecture capture, video content, blended learning, different technology supported models of coursework, participation, grading, and assessment. What needs to exist but doesn’t yet will come rapidly once the market starts to demand it.
Third, actively seek vendors as partners that can provide technology to "scale" any of your existing processes out of the classroom -- marketing and communication, financial aid, student services, community building, and student success. Over the past 30 years or so, technology has been used within the existing educational model and within the operating framework of our institutions. Institutions need to look at technology differently -- they need to see it as an opportunity to transform what they do and help them adapt.
The reality is that in higher education, there is a lot of spending focused on improving student success, but not all the efforts scale and their outcomes are often difficult to measure. Too often, success is measured anecdotally because there's no scalable way to gather real-time information, but this changes with schoolwide software. A small handful of schools, in particular Purdue University, seem capable of building this technology internally, with projects such as Mixable and Hotseat. But most colleges and universities will find that they are not very good software developers. Even if they can build something they will have trouble building upon it and maintaining it. So colleges should seek this kind of software from others.
Fourth, actively seek to take advantage of the Internet as services arise that are of interest to your students, your faculty and staff, and more importantly -- your market. Put lectures on iTunes U and Youtube, get your professors on Academia.edu and Notehall. Send your students to StudentMentor and StudentAdvisor. See what happens. Something will pop up that will remarkably improve or change what you do. One thing is for sure: we're quickly going to move to a model where "all-star" faculty members who have amazing reputations as both thinkers and teachers will probably be your best foot forward on the Internet.
Fifth, just adopt good management practices from business. Decide who you are and what you are good at, and start cutting the rest. Hold people accountable. Who is responsible for persistence and completion? Give people incentives. Who gets a bonus if the persistence and completion rates go up? Constantly improve institutional efficiency and effectiveness: who’s responsible for identifying opportunities to improve and taking the necessary steps?
On a personal note, my biggest fear is that our institutions in higher education are not structurally capable of making efficient and courageous decisions that will allow them to innovate and thrive through the coming Great Disruption. As a result, probably the biggest element of focus needs to be on change management and reorganization that will provide true accountability for student success, as well as create incentive systems that reward risk taking in pursuit of excellence and efficiency. Having said that, the worst thing to do would be to spend all your focus as an administrator going through a painful and time-consuming reorganization that delays pursuing the five tips listed above.
The cost-cutting race is on. And the Great Disruption is just beginning.
In most industries, technology-enabled competition is deemed healthy and vital. Accustomed to a hyper-competitive modern world, we expect even the largest and most prestigious companies to be continually challenged by nimbler, more creative upstarts. Economists teach that disruptive innovation by newcomers and creative destruction of entrenched incumbents leads to better products and services. When a century-old auto company, airline, investment bank, or newspaper files for bankruptcy or disappears altogether, we regret the attendant human suffering but count the loss as the price of progress, knowing that without competitive innovation and destruction we would enjoy a standard of living no better than our great-grandparents did.
Higher education, though, has been different. Large universities rarely cease to operate. Nor are the prestigious ones quickly overtaken. Part of the reason is a dearth of disruptive competition. The most innovative would-be competitors, for-profit education companies, find great success among working adults, many of whom care more about the content and convenience of their education than the label on it.
But many young college students still seek the assurance of traditional university names and the benefits of campus life. Because of loyal support from this large group of higher education customers, the incumbents have felt little pressure from the for-profits’ use of potentially disruptive online technology.
Meanwhile, the terms of competition among traditional institutions, the public and private not-for-profit universities, have been set primarily by those at the top. The strategy of most schools is one of imitation, not innovation. Little-known and smaller institutions try to move up in the ranks by adding students, majors, and graduate programs, so as to look more like the large universities. They also task their faculty with research responsibilities. In the process the emulators incur new costs and thus must raise tuition. This blunts the price advantage that they began with. They are stuck in a dangerous competitive middle ground, neither highest in quality nor lowest in cost. The great schools, rather than being discomfited by the imitation, seem all the more desirable because of it.
In their defense, the institutions that emulate Harvard and strive to climb the Carnegie ladder are doing just as conventional business logic dictates -- trying to give customers what they want. The great universities such as Harvard inspire not just administrators, faculty, and alumni at other schools. They also excite the most elite prospective students, who want to win admission to the most Harvard-like institution they can. Thus, less prestigious schools emulate Harvard’s essential features, such as graduate programs and expert faculty researchers and research facilities. They also give students costly non-educational amenities such as intercollegiate athletic teams, which Harvard no longer supports at the level of the most competitive schools.
The result of this competition-by-imitation is to solidify past educational practice among traditional universities, making them increasingly more expensive but not fundamentally better from a learning standpoint. The great-grandparents of today’s students would easily recognize the essential elements of modern higher education. Though the students are more diverse, the shape of classrooms, the style of instruction, and the subjects of study are all remarkably true to their century-old antecedents.
Great-Grandpa and Grandma would likewise recognize the three schools atop U.S. News’s 2010 college rankings: Harvard, Princeton, and Yale. In fact, asked to guess, they’d probably have picked just those three.
Only the costs of a higher education, one can argue, have kept pace with the times. In the 10 years after 1997, the inflation-adjusted price of a year of college at the average public university rose by 30 percent, while the earning power of a bachelor’s degree remained roughly the same. Cost increases derive partly from higher faculty salaries, but more from activities unrelated to classroom instruction. Scientific research, competitive athletics, and student amenities require both large operating outlays and the construction of high-tech laboratories, football stadiums, and activity centers. As a result, the cost of higher education grows faster than faculty salaries or other instruction-related costs.
The problem is not unique to higher education. In fact, in products ranging from computers to breakfast cereals, history reveals a pattern of innovation that ultimately exceeds customers’ needs. Hoping to get an edge on their competitors, companies offer new features, such as faster processing speeds in a computer or increased vitamin fortification in cereals. These enhancements are sustaining innovations rather than reinventions: the product becomes better while its basic design and uses remain the same.
The catch, as Clayton Christensen has shown in The Innovator’s Dilemma, is that these performance enhancements at some point exceed even the most demanding customers’ performance needs. The producer is incurring greater costs and thus must raise prices. That leaves the typical purchaser of a $5,000 laptop or a $5 box of cereal paying more than they want to, given what they actually need.
Much of what universities are doing is standard management practice: improve the product; give customers more of what they want; watch the competition. But it leads even great enterprises to fail, as detailed in The Innovator’s Dilemma. Inevitably, while the industry leaders focus on better serving their most prized customers and matching their toughest competitors, they overlook what is happening beneath them. Two things are likely to be occurring there. One is growth in the number of would-be consumers -- students, in the case of higher education -- who cannot afford the continuously enhanced offerings and thus become non-consumers. The other is the emergence of technologies that will, in the right hands, allow new competitors to serve this disenfranchised group of non-consumers.
Until the relatively recent emergence of the Internet and online learning, the higher education industry enjoyed an anomalously long run of disruption-free growth. In times of economic downturn, there were cries of alarm and calls for reform. But for the elite, well-endowed private schools, a bit of budget tightening sufficed until the financial markets recovered. The demand for the elite schools confer far exceeds the supply, allowing them to cover rising costs with tuition increases and fund-raising campaigns.
Even many less-prestigious universities benefit from accreditation, which has elevated them over unaccredited institutions. Public universities also enjoy the long-term commitment of taxpayers. In the absence of a disruptive new technology, the combination of prestige and loyal support from donors and legislators has allowed traditional universities to weather occasional storms. Fundamental change has been unnecessary.
That is no longer true, though, for any but a relative handful of institutions. Costs have risen to unprecedented heights, and new competitors are emerging. A disruptive technology, online learning, is at work in higher education, allowing both for-profit and traditional not-for-profit institutions to rethink the entire traditional higher education model. Private universities without national recognition and large endowments are at great financial risk. So are public universities, even prestigious ones such as the University of California at Berkeley.
Price-sensitive students and fiscally beleaguered legislatures have begun to resist costs that consistently rise faster than those of other goods and services. With the advent of high-quality online learning, there are new, less expensive institutional alternatives to traditional universities, their standing enhanced by changes in accreditation standards that play to their strengths in demonstrating student learning outcomes. These institutions are poised to respond cost-effectively to the national need for increased college participation and completion.
For the vast majority of universities change is inevitable. The main questions are when it will occur and what forces will bring it about.
WASHINGTON -- Higher education hates the U.S. Education Department's recently enacted regulation requiring institutions to seek and gain approval from any state in which they operate, and has fought it on multiple fronts. Late Tuesday colleges and universities got at least a temporary reprieve from the part of the rule to which they most object -- its application to online programs in which even one student from a state enrolls.