When, a few weeks ago now, myself and Livia read (almost) every manifesto of the winning candidates in this year’s SU elections, one of our more notable findings was the lack of the verb “to campaign”.
When compared to, say, a decade ago, in its place is plenty of “pressuring the uni”, “proposing” that X or Y happens, “working with” the uni to deliver some objective or other, and a metric ton of “lobbying”.
Of course “campaign” doesn’t always mean public pressure, isn’t exclusively about protests or petitions, and in the social media age can involve all sorts of creative ways of causing decision makers to do things.
But broadly, to the extent to which our winners believe that change is possible, they largely regard it as deliverable within the confines of an “insider” strategy – leveraging the access they have once they win through meetings, committees and representation structures.
Britain isn’t working
The thing is, there’s a problem. In recent years – and especially over the past three years – we’ve started to detect a distinct lack of “wins” resulting from the access that folks have.
Officers are often settling for process goals that go nowhere, wins are often quickly forgotten when a team moves on, and the pressure to temper ambition looms ever larger in early meetings with university executive teams.
And those university executive teams tell us that the available capacity for change – especially if it needs money or people or both – is at a very low level.
Meanwhile industrial action engulfs the sector, students are paying more for less, they’re living further away from campus, their mental health is in tatters and their ability to immerse themselves in and benefit from student life is increasingly compromised by stretched resources, larger class sizes, skyrocketing housing costs and deeply unsociable and unsafe levels of part-time work.
So as the crises engulfing the higher education sector intensify, it’s important to ask whether the theory of change that has come to dominate the pursuit of change across SUs is faulty.
It’s also important to question whether the conditions that allowed “lobbying” to flourish as a tactic are still present – and if not, to consider what might need to be done instead.
Crisis? What crisis?
As I type, we are heading into an academic year where thanks to inflation, “9k fees” are now worth £6k in real terms.
This is not necessarily a new problem. Universities have dealt with high inflation before.
Dealing with freezes (real terms reductions) in the unit of resource (the amount that can spent per student) is not a new problem for universities either – indeed I enrolled into HE at the lowest previous point in 1995.
Dealing with attempts to radically change the economic model underpinning universities is also not a new problem for universities – the size and shape of the sector has changed in quite profound ways over the past few decades.
What is new is dealing with all three at once.
“Crisis” is an overused word in our culture, but by any reasonable measure UK universities are in one.
In some ways, those crises are a subset in the slipstream of wider chaos – Brexit, culture wars, Covid, the war in Ukraine and the dog days of a decaying government represents a set of circumstances that few sectors are doing well in.
But the particular mix of the factors, the hostile media attention on universities and the sheer scale of the sector these days make this period feel especially difficult to navigate.
When things are going well, the basic rhythms of university decision making make some sense. Universities are basically large cruise liners – which use quasi-democratic structures in lieu of direct management power to “carry” academic staff (and to some extent) students with them as they change over time.
In that culture the committee structures and the quarterly catch-ups are entirely logical, and can at least feel effective – if a little slow for the average SU officer’s liking.
VUCA salt
The problem is that to a considerable extent the fusing of polite committee culture with a quality improvement/enhancement focus imported from industry only works within the logic of stability.
When, bar the odd crisis, you can pretty much depend on funding, student numbers, to be left alone by government and regulators and to enjoy enough public support to stay out of trouble, even controversies and campaigns can feel like gentle waves of university processes doing their thing.
Even when the seas turn choppy, there’s a tendency to assume that the bigger waves are somehow temporary – like a bout of turbulence on a Ryanair flight to be survived for a short period by returning to your seat and putting on the belt until the captain says so.
Yet where higher education and its cultural hallmarks were once an oasis of certainty, stability and familiarity, we are now living through a prolonged period of something quite different – a period which is much more volatile, uncertain, complex and ambiguous than before.
- Volatile – change is rapid and unpredictable in its nature and extent.
- Uncertain – the present is unclear and the future is uncertain.
- Complex – many different, interconnected factors come into play, with the potential to cause chaos and confusion.
- Ambiguous – there is a lack of clarity or awareness about situations.
Bob Johansen, of the Institute for the Future, adapted “VUCA” from the US military for organisations and institutions in his 2009 book Leaders Make the Future.
He used it to argue that “turbulent and unpredictable” forces of change were set to impact us profoundly – and suggested that new skills, approaches and behaviours were needed to lead in the face of the four VUCA threats.
And fundamental to leading in this sort of “slow burn” crisis is the (repeated re-)assessment of risk.
Five gold rings
When we imagine the basis on which leaders in universities make decisions, we might imagine a set of “tree rings” on which to hang approaches, papers and arguments.
Deep down, we imagine that benign university leaders probably make decisions on the basis of what’s best for the academic standing or mission of the university. Over time, SUs have come to adapt their arguments – a three-decade sweet spot of universities becoming more concerned about students and their experience and success.
In more recent years, SUs have also come to realise that even the above is often not what really drives a “Yes” or a “No” – it’s what facilitates growth in student numbers (or proxies that we think lead to growth) that SUs either hint at or full-chested run at, depending on their (and their university’s) level of shame.
It’s easy to argue that the above factors collided in the past three decades or so to create a set of circumstances where student lobbying could thrive. All SUs had to do was wait for the pie to grow, and then gently suggest that students should get some of that growth – through investment in counselling, a new student centre or a bigger block grant.
In England, another tree ring has emerged – concern at what the regulator(s) expect us to do, say, or be.
I call them tree rings because the “academic standing or mission” and the “student experience” things are still there – albeit that they’re often a piece of cosplay to disguise the extent to which the other factors are now in play.
Because make no mistake – the other factors are in play. It’s just that as each ring comes to dominate, the decision making gets more opaque, more furtive and much harder to influence.
We know, for example, that the Office for Students has leant heavily on a number of universities in the past two years on a range of issues. But because it keeps it all confidential, it’s impossible for SUs to know when or if they should deploy regulatory threat, or to work out whether “notifying” OfS would be a good or bad thing.
And unlike asserting what might be best for students or best for the university, interpretation of what might cause the regulator to step in tends to be “owned” by a senior senior manager – and is very hard to challenge.
Risky businesses
But it’s not just the regulation thing. As well as all the above, a VUCA environment creates a new kind of tree ring. In these periods and settings, decisions on almost everything are shot through with an assessment of risk.
When there’s a never ending parade of little fires to put out, the decision stops being about the academic mission, the student experience, the numbers or even the regulator – it just becomes about crises.
There’s a few books on this that cover everything from wars to pandemics – and they all suggest something along the following lines fore the way leaders treat a given week:
- What are today’s issues?
- Which of the “real” issues are riskier to leave alone than to address? (Time out the former, de-risk or neutralise the latter)
- Can we “bike shed” some things to reduce panic and maintain a sense of control?
To “bike shed” is to find small things to run, do or control to stop the whole edifice from descending into panic. And as we often say, SUs can always find some little wins behind the bike shed.
But fundamentally, the issues that are being dealt with are those that today have become riskier to leave alone than to address – decisions informed by risk managers, legal advisors and corporate insurers.
So for example, if there was a real risk of students using their consumer protection law rights to sue their university over non-delivery during Covid and strikes, the fee refunds would be flowing and the strikes would be over by now.
But precisely because that risk is perceived to be exceptionally low, it’s riskier for a university to do the right thing. So in this environment, the challenge for influencing and interests organisations like SUs becomes how they communicate – or maximise – the perception and understanding of risk.
And that is exceptionally hard when the Number 1 risk is reputation.
Please remain calm
On my trip to Colorado last month, sleep was never going to happen next to an egregious snorer – and so I settled into the 9 hour flight back by re-watching the HBO adaptation of Chernobyl.
Episode 2 in particular is a masterclass in understanding how “reputation” can impact the way in which problems are raised, perceived and addressed.
It’s not the outright censorship of the student newspaper or the literal muzzling of SU officers. It’s the micro-acts of reputation protection – to not upset people, to keep the block grant rolling in, to not damage recruitment, to not bring this university we all love into disrepute.
It’s the frowning at a critical tweet. It’s the careful re-phrasing of the TEF submission. It’s the warning off of rasing things at governors or council. It’s the quiet word with the CEO about the “tone” of an officer at a meeting – reminding them that the block grant meeting is coming up. It’s the email asking if you’ll agree to a quote proclaiming that the NSS results show the university is the best ever at everything.
Every day, each micro act makes sense. But over time, it has damaging consequences – because the crises impacting students get smoothed over, ignored or normalised, while others get time, resources and attention.
It’s how almost every SU advice centre in the country has dealt with multiple cases of student homelessness this year – yet the public would never know.
It’s how universities persuade SUs to not call it a cost of living “crisis” because that might look bad and “scare people”.
It’s how students living hours away and not being able to afford to come to campus becomes normalised as “flexible learning” that “students want”.
It’s how international students get targeted for allegations of cheating and are tricked into accepting “fixed penalty” notice-style punishments on a “deal or no deal” threat of it being worse if a panel doesn’t believe them.
It’s how staff-student sexual misconduct gets normalised in a framework of “adult rights”.
It’s how living in Newport if you’re a student in Bristol goes from an emergency sticking plaster to an “option for the price conscious student”.
It’s how students were repeatedly gaslit over education “quality” amid strikes and Covid.
It’s how – when the unit of resource is at a three decade low – every university in the country has issued a press release off the back of NSS results saying that “actually everything is great here”.
It’s how everyone in HE knows that the funding crisis means the student experience will get worse over the next few years – but incoming students aren’t told.
Students are not revolting
In the face of all of that, many romantically argue for a return to some imagined golden age of student activism, where resistance replaces partnership and where occupations replace committee meetings in Boardroom 2.
I think there’s a case for that – and in particular I can see a scenario where international students in particular switch from polite passivity to protest in much the same way they have started to do in some other countries facing acute overcrowding.
But not only was there no golden age, that kind of action itself represents a level of risk for students and SUs that is very difficult to overcome. Even joining a picket line can cause you to become deported for failing the attendance test, and joining the protest can mean missing the shift and then not paying the rent.
There may be another way.
Influencing leaders in a crisis
On train journeys this summer, I’ve been looking at the literature to determine how decision makers are influenced in a crisis – both by “insiders” and “outsiders” – and there are commonalities. And as I said above, key to them is to communicate – or maximise – the perception and understanding of risk.
To do this in “assertive” partnership requires some preparation:
- Developing an (deeper) understanding of the university’s financial model
- Developing a clear(er) understanding of any regulatory pressures (direct and indirect) that it is facing
- Understanding the pressures on outcomes at a granular level – often within schools, faculties or departments
- Getting to know what senior people are thinking about, worried about and proud of
- Regularly pooling and synthesising information on the above between staff and officers so you know how to act
Once that is done, there are numerous examples of ways to become the “Valery Legasov” figure in a crisis – without ending up in jail. These include:
Finding ways to draw people into students’ world to build understanding and empathy. Stats and surveys help – but finding ways to make this vivid helps more. At one stage this student project from around 15 years ago was shown at pretty much HE conference – something similar would be compelling now.
Launching an agenda for students for the university to respond to. Many SUs will launch their strategic plan and then respond to university proposals and committees. A small number annually “launch” their representative goals for the coming year – causing a response from the university. This puts them on the front foot.
Risk assess the student body. In England, the Office for Students Equality of Opportunity Risk Register is an interesting way of doing “risk” – because it focuses on people (ie the charity’s beneficiaries) rather than the charity itself. This summer we’ve experimented with a handful of SUs in developing their own “student experience risk register” – having a go at calculating risks to students based on likelihood, severity and frequency. It’s a compelling exercise to undertake, hard to ignore if presented to the university, and speaks the language that many in HE will now deal in daily.
Talk about issues rather than ourselves. We note at this time of year that SU comms tend to focus on the SU itself – its officers, services, activities and facilities – rather than communicating about the issues students face. We know that when SUs talk about the issues students face – even if no action is likely to be taken – students trust the SU more, and just talking about the issues is likely to create the conditions where more students approach the union with examples, and where the university is more likely to take action – because it moves those issues further towards the top of the pile.
Consider going higher – to the governing body, or regulator. This can often feel like “grassing up” senior managers – but in many ways it’s crucial that SU officers feel that the governing body is on top of the key issues faced by students, and arguably SUs have a duty to ensure the relevant funding council or regulator is kept aware of areas where the university may be at risk of non-compliance. And anyway, when partners make up, that usually follows a break up.
Setting expectations on leadership. Often making clear to senior managers the role that you expect them to play in a crisis is helpful. On cost of living you could ask them to make X or Y happen – but better may be to set an expectation that they will publicly call on the test of the university to regard the issue as a crisis and set expectations that everyone will act. Similarly in England making clear the circumstances under which your APP student submission will be positive in 10 months’ time sets out expectations assertively. Pushing university leaders to lead is often important.
Plausible deniability. Where there’s a raft of part time officers, a student newspaper and multiple academic societies, it’s often possible to play a “good cop bad cop” strategy where folk other than the key sabbs will discuss important issues in public. If you don’t have quasi-autonomous actors within the breadth of student representation, it’s worth nurturing them – and if you do, with deploying them.
The art of letter writing. Some folk veer between protests and polite meetings – but often it’s a formal letter from the SU that can really help. For example several SUs have been struggling to get their university to take this guidance from UUK seriously ion accommodation – but a formal letter asking the university to respond on the “reflective questions” that UUK sets out would be less likely to result in being “fobbed off”.
Have a proper discussion about “risk” at the Board. Often SU boards get the blame for risk aversion – but it’s rare that the risks associated with assertive student representation have actually been discussed explicitly. Over in Ireland at DCU, the new strategy for the Office of Student Life (an umbrella for the SU and clubs and socs) is literally “Be Brave and Be Bold“:
We
don’t want to rest on our laurels and will strive to continue to chart an ambitious and challenging course for the organisation, not shying away from difficult issues and finding new and better ways of doing things. This may mean taking a stand when you want us to, it may mean winding up a service that is no longer valued, or it may simply mean piloting new kinds of service and support. In addition, being able to stand up for what you believe in is an important part of being an engaged citizen.”
Speaking truth to power
As we often say at Wonkhe towers, a lot of student representation isn’t about winning the argument, it’s about making the space to have it. Right now, increasingly SUs can only have arguments over critical issues – and so student issues need to be framed as critical and in terms of risk.
There are many definitions of representation – some focus on process, some on participation, some on outcomes, some on the reps themselves.
But a really important one has always been the idea that one of the big duties is to “speak truth to power”. There’s a whole literature on the ways in which being funded by that power can often dissuade us from doing it – ironically often in situations where it’s more important, rather than less, that the “truth” comes out and is then acted on.
Doing it requires tactical nous, evidence, collaboration, time and bravery. It in and of itself involves SUs and their officers taking a risk. Arguably, that’s exactly what students need their SU to do for them right now.
