Although it has been many – many – years since I was a student, I’ve never forgotten looking at my university timetable at the start of my first year and wondering how I was going to cope. Not with the hours of study, but with having so much free time. For it seemed the hours of formal teaching required to pursue a degree in English Language and Literature at this particular Russell Group university barely exceeded double figures. After the grind of A levels, the vast open spaces on the timetable were dizzying. Surely a university education was supposed to be more demanding than this?
Given the leaden weight of student arrears, surely the time has come to compress the sparsely taught three-year courses into two years
To quote Shakespeare – I did pay attention in those sparsely scheduled seminars– clearly these were my salad days. But despite such naivety, even if I was ‘green in judgement’ at least I wasn’t red in debt
For the three-year duration of my degree, not only were my tuition fees paid by the government, the state actually gave me money to live on – even for a course drowsily and unnecessarily stretched across an undemanding schedule.
How different it is for today’s Russell Group graduates
According to new data from the Financial Times, those who complete degrees at the most prestigious universities are being saddled with the highest average student loan debts. Some owe more than £60,000 despite making repayments for years.
Even when taking a broader view, the average bill across all higher education institutions was £45,498, rising to £47,777 for graduates of MillionPlus universities – institutions established since 1992, many of them former polytechnics.
Given the leaden weight of student arrears, surely the time has come to compress the sparsely taught three-year courses into two years. Not only would this slash soaring debt but could also make for a swifter move into the job market.
As well as saving money and avoiding wasted time, slashing the length of these courses could bring a host of other benefits too.
For one thing, it could raise intellectual ambition. A more tightly packed timetable would mean more assignments and greater academic workload in a shorter period. Students might consequently spend less time drinking cheap beer and more time poring over their books, while learning to manage their time far more effectively.
All of which would be valuable preparation for the world of work. After all, for graduates looking for a job in today’s climate, the competition is brutal: last week it was reported that UK graduate vacancies fell to 8,383 in July – down 45.6 per cent year-on-year and reaching a new record low. So an intensive two-year course could make students match-fit for the fight.
Equally, a tougher two-year degree might dissuade students not really cut out for further education from going to university in the first place because the courses themselves would represent a greater academic stretch.
That need not be a bad thing. We’ve reached a point where too many young people are encouraged to go to university, sometimes enrolling on courses or at institutions where the quality of teaching and the value of the qualification are deeply questionable. The notion that university education is for the academically elite has been trashed.
Instead, taking an undergraduate course has become a default choice rather than a deliberate one: the result of peer pressure, pushy parents, fancy university marketing, or simply not knowing what else to do after school. As a result we have diluted what it means to be a university graduate.
So a tough two-year degree with a rigorous pre-entry selection process could help restore the reputation of universities as places of academic excellence. Since for those who are successful, the need to maintain the same intellectual heft would itself become part of the test to produce Britain’s smartest graduates.
Shorter, tougher non-vocational courses may also mean less appetite to be shepherded into debt for those who may flinch at the prospect of a tough course. This would perhaps lead instead to a reframing of ambition – perhaps through apprenticeships and more practical opportunities.
There will, of course, of course be those who argue that university is a rite of passage – a chance to be young, free, exchange ideas, sit cross-legged on the floor late at night, and discuss how to save the planet. Isn’t it unfair to contract this reprieve from the responsibilities of adulthood?
To which the answer is simple. There’s no reason why students on slimmed down courses shouldn’t still enjoy everything else university has to offer – the debates, the socialising, the societies and more.
A two-year course would just mean doing it after a long day – rather than an unnecessarily short one.
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