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Complaining to the OIA

by GR Evans

The Office of the Independent Adjudicator (OIA) has stressed in its Annual Report that the system it operates is under strain. The expectation that universities would offer a route for students to make  complaints became a requirement at the turn of the century as  providers began to recognise the existence of a ‘student contract‘. That made the student a ‘consumer’ of the ‘higher education provider’. ‘Complaints procedures’ for students to use began to appear alongside ‘grievance procedures’ for employees. Scrutinising the performance of higher education providers in that task falls to the Office of the Independent Adjudicator (OIA).

The OIA was created as a company in 2003 and began work as a voluntary scheme. It was designated as operator of a student complaints scheme in 2005. Its current ‘members’ are various sector bodies including  Universities UK and GuildHE. Its Board, headed by the actual Adjudicator, and it includes student representatives.

It first needed to show itself to be independent. The OIA faced criticism early on when a petition with 43 signatures, called for its abolition, complaining that it was a ‘biased, unreasonable, and non-impartial organisation. The petition called for:

Full evidence-based investigation into student complaints, fully independent of the University’s internal processes, and in accordance with existing educational and non-educational law,

and ‘a public enquiry into all decisions made against student complaints, by the OIAHE since its inception’, withnew rules:

to provide full legal aid cover for all students whose employment prospects are, or may have been, damaged as a result of their adverse experience with a public educational institution, and who remain unemployed as a result.

This was not followed through in those express terms. The stated objective of the process now followed by the OIA is to ‘put the student back in the position they  would have been in if the problem hadn’t occurred’.

Meeting that demand presents difficulties in two respects. The relationships of students to their ‘higher education provider’ have changed. They are its ‘members’ in the case of Oxford and Cambridge but in other providers a governing body of between twelve and twenty-four constitute the ‘members’ under the Higher Education and Research Act 1992. Elsewhere  they are likely to be, in effect, paying customers ‘buying’ a course. There is a contract and if the providers does not fulfil its part, the student may complain and seek redress in the form of repayment of fees.

A sense of student entitlement may arise from the sheer cost to a student. In England, tuition fees for the academic year 2026-7 will rise to £9,790 for standard full-time courses, £11,750 for full-time accelerated courses and £7,335 for part-time courses, for providers with a Teaching Excellence Framework award and an Access and Participation Plan. That will increase for the year 2027-8 to £10,050 for standard full-time courses, £12,060 for full-time accelerated courses  and £7,530 for part-time courses.  Costs for ‘maintenance’ and accommodation are additional.

The procedures to be followed in making a complaint have needed repeated updating. Key terms have had to be defined. For example, the Annual Report of Oxford’s Sexual Harassment and Violence Support Service reports ‘an increasing complexity of cases, and those requiring a longer duration of support’. Where there is a complaint it recognises the need for clarity as to whether a dispute is a ‘University’ or a ‘college’ matter, noting ‘a marked increase in college-based, student-to-student reports of reported incidents’. The University is therefore improving its provision for training to ensure that those with responsibilities for students are clear about what constitutes ‘consent’.

Nationally, is the system now simply overloaded? The OIA published its Annual Report in April, recording the scale of the  rise in the number of complaints it receives. In 2008 the OIA received 900 complaints against an England and Wales enrolment denominator of 2,117,535 – a rate of 42.5 complaints per 100,000 students. In 2025 there were 4,234 complaints, an increase of 17 per cent from the previous year. The 4,234 complaints in 2025 ‘translate’, it says, ‘to roughly 165.8 per 100,000. in 2025’. In October 2025  alone there had been 516 complaints, recorded as the busiest single month in its history. In the face of this demand the OIA  resolved 3,950 cases within six months and brought the average case handling time down to 81 days.

Stress-points are evident. Its Report notes that the complaints the OIA receives ‘prematurely’ are brought by students who ‘have begun the process but feel that they have waited too long for a decision’:

most of the complaints raised with us prematurely are brought by students who have begun the process but feel that they have waited too long for a decision. Delays are a symptom of a system under strain and may be one impact of the financial challenges facing providers.

Jim Dickinson’s blog for WonkHE on 26 April 2026 pointed to further evidence arguing that the fact that 42% of complainants now disclose a disability could mean a sector which is still structurally unable to accommodate them. So even if the growth in complaints may reflect an increasing sense of entitlement among students, the OIA suggests that the Adjudicator makes recommendations – or requires compensation to be made – that is ‘an indication that a student has not received the service they expect at a time when fees and cost of living pressures are increasing’.

The continuing multiplication of ‘alternative providers’ seems likely to lead to more complaining. They may admit unqualified students and be imperfectly regulated. The OIA publishes a list of ‘case summaries’ on providers where problems have emerged. The ‘worked example’ given in the OIA’s Report is that of Brit College, on which the OIA had already published concerns as of ‘public interest’ in November 2025.

The OIA had made Recommendations and had reported the College’s refusal to comply with its Recommendations to its Board in September 2025 and shared information about the complaint with the Office for Students (OfS), Department for Education (DfE) and Ofqual.  None of this led to reform. Companies House reports that Brit College Ltd is subject to Receiver Action, with its accounts and confirmation statement overdue and apparently heading for liquidation.

There seems, then, to be a question as to the effectiveness of the OIA not in terms of its work but in terms of its powers, where a provider of higher education falls beyond the reach of a complaints procedure.

SRHE member GR Evans is Emeritus Professor of Medieval Theology and Intellectual History in the University of Cambridge.


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International students as a national project: how states brand their higher education

by Evelyn Kim, Annette Bamberger and Sazana Jayadeva

From student choice to state strategy

International student mobility is often framed as a story of individual aspiration. Students, it is widely assumed, choose destinations based on rational calculations of what they stand to gain: prestigious degrees, global networks, enhanced career prospects, and immersion in new sociocultural contexts amongst others. This narrative centres students and to a lesser extent institutions, which compete for their patronage. Yet it often obscures the role of the state in shaping where, and how, international education is imagined in the first place (Bamberger & Kim, 2022; Sidhu, 2006).

The recruitment of international students has increasingly become a national project. While established destinations such as the UK have long maintained coordinated campaigns and online platforms to promote their higher education systems, what is particularly noteworthy today is the spread of such initiatives across a wider range of countries. Governments now invest in coordinated branding campaigns, frequently under the moniker “Study in X” websites (such as Study in Hong Kong and Study in Germany), that promote entire higher education systems under the national banner, often accompanied by social media channels such as Facebook and YouTube. These platforms are carefully curated spaces through which states project what they perceive makes their country distinctive and attractive as a study destination.

We argue that this constitutes a form of nation branding: the strategic creation and projection of ‘the nation’ throughhigher education (Kim & Bamberger, 2025; Lomer et al, 2018). These campaigns do not focus solely on academic excellence or global competitiveness. They weave together claims about innovation, economic power, cultural richness, affordability and safety, constructing an integrated narrative in which higher education becomes a gateway to the nation.

The persuasive strategies used in these campaigns vary. Some build credibility through rankings and research metrics, while others appeal to emotion by invoking culture and a sense of belonging. Still others foreground practical considerations such as affordability or post-study employment opportunities. Across these approaches, national higher education branding relies on distinctive “identity markers” to position countries as attractive study destinations Particularly in contexts associated with geopolitical or social tensions, branding efforts may seek to recalibrate external perceptions by foregrounding narratives of excellence and stability, while leaving more contentious political realities out of view.

It is in such contexts that national higher education branding becomes most revealing. As we examine in our recent article, India, Israel and South Korea offer striking examples (Bamberger et al, 2026). These countries embarked on higher education internationalisation at different moments, with Korea taking an early lead in the 2000s, while India and Israel launched major initiatives in the late 2010s. All three have seen notable growth in international student enrolments over the past two decades, even if they still host far fewer students than established Anglo-European destinations. Each is also a relatively young political state with strong ethnonational identities, close ties to diasporic communities, and enduring regional geopolitical tensions. These dynamics shape how the nation is perceived internationally, making higher education branding a particularly strategic tool.

To explore how destinations beyond the established core construct their national higher education brands, we analysed how three government-affiliated websites – Study in Korea, Study in India and Study in Israel – have evolved since their launch, drawing on both archival versions of the websites and their current content. We traced the identity markers these websites create over time: who they claim to be, what they omit, and how they try to persuade prospective international students.

What quickly became clear was that these platforms do far more than market universities. They tell a broader story about the nation itself. Familiar tropes in higher education marketing, such as academic excellence and global competitiveness feature prominently, but so too do promises of cultural experiences, inclusive and vibrant student life, and future career opportunities.

Yet the stories these websites tell are not the same. While several identity markers recur across the campaigns, each country communicates them in strikingly different ways.

Different paths, different priorities

One of the most striking findings from our research is that national higher education brands evolve in markedly different ways. The trajectories of these campaigns reflect shifting national priorities, as well as how each country positions itself within the global higher education landscape.

South Korea’s branding demonstrates the greatest degree of adaptation. Early versions of the Study in Korea platform emphasised the country’s rapid transformation from post-war hardship to global economic success, drawing on emotional and credibility-based appeals. Over time, however, the narrative shifts toward measurable indicators of performance, with global rankings, international assessments such as OECD’s Programme for International Student Assessment, and employability becoming central to claims of excellence. These comparisons often highlight how neighbouring countries perform, particularly where they rank lower. In this way, regional comparison becomes evidence of South Korea’s educational strength.

More recently, emotional appeals have re-emerged through international student ambassadors and social media storytelling, alongside a stronger emphasis on post-graduation employment opportunities, reflecting mounting concerns about South Korea’s shrinking workforce.

India’s campaign, by contrast, has followed a trajectory of relative continuity, albeit with subtle shifts. The Study in India website consistently foregrounds civilisational heritage, multiculturalism and the country’s long history as a centre of learning, positioning India as both ancient and globally connected. In early versions of the website, it drew on narratives predominantly associated with Hindu civilisational traditions to position India as an enduring source of knowledge and spiritual heritage. These were complemented by claims about the scale and diversity of India’s contemporary higher education system, as well as portrayals of India as a “pocket-friendly” and accessible destination.

However, more recently, signs of change have begun to emerge. There has been a gradual recalibration in emphasis, with a relative de-emphasis of cultural and civilisational narratives in favour of more pragmatic appeals to affordability, accessibility and global competitiveness. While the overall framing remains stable, these shifts suggest an attempt to reposition India more clearly within an increasingly competitive international education market.

Israel represents yet another trajectory. Since its launch in 2017, the Study in Israel website has changed relatively little despite major geopolitical developments, suggesting that national higher education branding may not always be a sustained policy priority. The campaign continues to project a stable narrative centred on innovation, positioning higher education within the country’s reputation as a “Start-Up Nation”. In this framing, higher education is closely associated with research intensity, technological entrepreneurship and strong links to high-tech industries. The campaign also emphasises academic excellence and draws on representations of Israel’s religious and historical heritage, alongside a tourism-oriented student experience. It further constructs distinct appeals to both international students and the Jewish diaspora.

What the branding leaves unsaid

Notably, the campaigns also reveal what is left unsaid. None of the websites explicitly addresses the longstanding geopolitical tensions surrounding these countries, including regional conflicts such as Israel-Palestine, India-Pakistan, and the Korean peninsula. Instead, these platforms largely sidestep overt political issues and historical disputes, foregrounding alternative narratives that present the nation as stable and welcoming.

Multiculturalism and openness are frequently emphasised, particularly in the cases of India and Israel, where appeals to tolerance and diversity help construct an image of inclusivity. Safety also emerges as a prominent marker in Israel’s campaign, which provides detailed descriptions of security infrastructure while simultaneously presenting an image of harmonious coexistence that downplays more complex social and political realities.

This selectivity, we posit, is not incidental, but the result of deliberate curation in how the nation is represented to external audiences. What is highlighted, and what is omitted, reflects a broader effort to position the country favourably within international student mobility flows, echoing critiques of national education branding as a selective and performative practice (Stein, 2018).

Seen in this light, national higher education branding becomes more than a strategy for attracting students. It is a state-led project through which countries mobilise particular identity markers and, in doing so, position themselves within an increasingly competitive and multipolar global higher education landscape.

Evelyn Min Ji Kim is Lecturer in Education in Asia at the UCL Institute of Education, where she also serves as Associate Editor of the Journal of Global Higher Education. Her research centres on student happiness and well-being policies, the global governance of education policymaking, and the internationalisation of higher education.

Annette Bamberger is Lecturer in Higher Education, UCL Institute of Education and Senior Lecturer and Head of Higher Education Track at Faculty of Education, Bar-Ilan University.

Sazana Jayadeva is a Lecturer in Sociology at the University of Surrey. She is an Associate Editor of the journal Sociology and co-convenes SRHE’s International Research and Researchers’ Network. She is also affiliated with the GIGA Institute of Asian Studies in Germany as an Associate Researcher. Her research revolves around the broad themes of education, migration, and digital and social media.


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Preparing the Future Leaders of Society with a Systems Thinking Mindset Through Effective Learning and Teaching

by Amrik Singh and Joy Garfield

In a world defined by rapid change, complexity, and interdependence, traditional linear ways of thinking are struggling to keep up. Whether we look at global supply chains, climate challenges, digital transformation, or organizational culture, a recurring truth emerges, everything is connected. This is why systems thinking,a mindset for understanding wholes rather than isolated parts, is becoming increasingly relevant across all sectors (Comstock, 2024). Systems thinking allows us to understand the perspective of multiple stakeholders in the situation and guards against jumping to the right solution, which human nature sometimes make us do. When we understand the notion that problems are multi-faceted and need the buy-in of multiple stakeholders to address the solutions, only then we can really unearth the understanding of complexity and ambiguity of the situation. Higher education students as future leaders of society, need to grasp the concept of systems thinking to explore the complexity and ambiguity of modern-day problems.

Understanding the Complexity of Modern Problems

For much of the 20th century, we operated on the assumption that problems could be broken down and solved independently. Problems and solutions were easily connected. But today’s challenges are mostly complex, dynamic, and interconnected, making reductionist approaches insufficient (Eftekhari Shahroudi et al., 2025).

A decision made in one area can unintentionally trigger effects in others. Without a systemic lens, those secondary impacts are missed until they become major problems. Dynamic conditions change faster than linear plans can keep up. Because challenges evolve through shifting interactions like climate events affecting energy markets, or geopolitical shifts affecting food systems a static, linear approach fails. A systemic perspective helps leaders adapt in real time. Climate change, digital transformation, public health, and security issues span sectors, borders, and disciplines. No single stakeholder can solve them alone; systems thinking helps identify leverage points for multi‑stakeholder actions.

Modern organisations function as complex adaptive systems shaped by culture, relationships, and information flows. Linear change models often fail because they ignore these interdependencies; systems thinking helps leaders identify leverage points, anticipate consequences, and design resilient structures (Ellis, 2024). Systems thinking literature alike argues that traditional problem‑solving methods lose effectiveness as societal and technological complexity grows, strengthening the case for dynamic, holistic approaches in organisational decision‑making (Eftekhari Shahroudi et al., 2025).

A Harvard Business Review article states that innovations often create unintended ripple effects because interactions across systems are overlooked reinforcing the need for a systemic perspective (Bansal and Birkinshaw, 2025). Problems have multiple interacting causes, not a single root. Reductionist thinking focuses on one cause at a time, but modern challenges involve overlapping drivers, environmental, economic, technological, political, and social. Addressing only one strand often creates new issues elsewhere. The demand for systems thinking based pedagogical higher education is thus very real and requires educators to embrace these methods of teaching and learning.

How Can Education and Learning Shift Toward Systems Thinking Literacy

As future leaders in an increasingly complex and demanding world, higher education students need a solid understanding of social, political, economic, and environmental issues, along with the confidence to propose well‑reasoned solutions. Systems thinking is increasingly recognised as a vital pedagogical approach in higher education, enabling learners to understand complexity, interdependence, and uncertainty within contemporary societal and organisational challenges.

As educators prepare students for an uncertain future, systems thinking literacy is emerging as a core skill. The future of jobs report (World Economic Forum, 2025) indicates that systems thinking, and empathy are very essential core skills needed by organisations. Case studies from engineering and technology education further illustrate the value of systems thinking pedagogy. Dhukaram et al. (2016) show how systems-oriented curricula enhance student capability in diagnosing multifaceted problems, fostering collaborative solution-building, and developing resilience in decision-making processes. These studies collectively highlight that systems thinking not only enhances subject-specific learning but also strengthens transferable skills such as critical reasoning, communication, and adaptive expertise, all very relevant to organisations as cited in the future of jobs report 2025.

Systems thinking pedagogy also allows students to dive into the complexity and ambiguity of modern-day challenges and allows them to understand the multiple stakeholder perspectives and worldviews. Only then can a rich picture of the problem can be ascertained. Studying relationships, patterns, and structures fosters deeper understanding than memorising isolated facts or writing notes of the situation alone. Frameworks such as Soft Systems Methodology (Checkland and Poulter, 2006) enhance critical thinking and decision‑making from multiple perspectives. Sustainability education literature also stresses that complex global issues require integrative thinking, interdisciplinary collaboration, and shared sense‑making, the central tenets of systems thinking (Ezeaku, 2024).

Soft Systems Methodology, although not new, has proven effective across a wide range of settings for tackling complex modern-day problems. Its seven-stage process offers a structured approach to exploring “wicked” issues by first examining what is happening in the real world from the viewpoints of various stakeholders. The methodology then moves to imagining an ideal world, one free from constraints, from multiple stakeholder perspectives, helping to surface differing expectations, needs, and aspirations for a future idealised system. Students should be encouraged to use empathetic dialogue to appreciate the diverse viewpoints present in the situation. By comparing real-world conditions with these idealised models, Soft Systems Methodology enables the development of feasible, mutually acceptable paths forward.

Recent scholarship highlights that real-world, experiential learning environments help students develop the ability to interpret dynamic systems and identify leverage points for meaningful change (Alford et al., 2025). Such approaches support a shift from linear, fragmented learning toward holistic understanding, enabling students to explore the multiple interacting forces shaping modern problems. Soft Systems Methodology can help develop this understanding.

The importance of systems thinking in higher education is also evident in efforts to prepare students for professional environments characterised by complexity and rapid change. As Elsawah, Ho, and Ryan (2022) note, teaching systems thinking requires intentional integration of modelling, reflection, and interdisciplinary engagement to help students internalise systemic concepts. Their work demonstrates that learners benefit from iterative exploration of system behaviours, reinforcing deeper conceptual understanding and long-term retention.

A Mindset for the 21st Century

Across disciplines, systems thinking offers a transformative framework for higher education, supporting educators and students in jointly navigating complex realities while fostering the next generation of holistic, strategic, and future-oriented thinkers.

At its core, systems thinking is more than a method, it is a mindset that promotes deeper insight, anticipatory understanding, and long‑term thinking. Scholars and practitioners argue it is essential for addressing intertwined challenges like climate disruption, social inequality, and technological acceleration (DigitalVital HUB, 2025). By helping individuals and organisations recognise interconnected structures, systems thinking supports more informed, sustainable, and strategic action, shifting us from short‑term fixes to long‑term solutions rooted in an understanding of whole systems (Ellis, 2024).

The combination of Soft Systems Methodology and empathy enhances systems thinking by placing equal emphasis on the human elements and the technical components. It focuses on designing solutions that function not only in theory but also in the complex, unpredictable realities of human‑centred environments. Engaging in empathetic dialogue helps reveal stakeholders’ perspectives and experiences. When problems are rooted in human complexity and ambiguity, the solutions must be human centric also.

We live in an era defined by complexity and constant change. Linear thinking on its own is no longer enough. Systems thinking offers powerful tools for higher education students to see the bigger picture, understanding interconnections, and designing solutions that work not just today, but for generations ahead. As future leaders of society this is a vital commodity that cannot be overlooked. Across sustainability, technology, education, and organisational practice, the evidence converges: systems thinking is shifting from a possibility to a must‑have capability for future leaders (Bansal and Birkinshaw, 2025; Schoormann et al., 2025).

References.

Alford, K.R., Stedman, N.L.P., Bunch, J., Baker, S. and Roberts, T.G. (2025) ‘Real-world experiences in higher education: contributing to developing a systems thinking paradigm’, Journal of Experiential Education, 48(1), pp. 169–188.

Bansal, T. and Birkinshaw, J. (2025) ‘Why you need systems thinking now’, Harvard Business Review, September–October.

Checkland, P. and Poulter, J. (2006) Learning for action: A short definitive account of Soft Systems Methodology and its use for practitioners, teachers and students. Hoboken: Wiley.

Comstock, N.W. (2024) ‘Systems thinking’, EBSCO Research Starters.

Dhukaram, A., Sgouropoulou, C., Feldman, G. and Amini, A. (2016) ‘Higher education provision using systems thinking approach – case studies’, European Journal of Engineering Education, 43, pp. 1–23.

DigitalVital HUB (2025) ‘Systems thinking in innovation design and sustainability: Critical framework for seeing the whole’, 21 March.

Eftekhari Shahroudi, K., Conrad, S., Speece, J., Reinholtz, K., Span, M.T., Chappell, S., Saulter, Q. and Bokhtier, G.M. (2025) ‘Why systems thinking?’, in Practical Systems Thinking. Cham: Springer.

Ellis, J. (2024) ‘Unlocking complex problems: the power of systems thinking’, TheSystemsThinking.com, 30 September.

Elsawah, S., Ho, A. and Ryan, M. (2022) ‘Teaching systems thinking in higher education’, INFORMS Transactions on Education, 22, pp. 66–102.

Ezeaku, E.C. (2024) ‘Systems thinking as a paradigm shift for transformational sustainability’, Global Scientific Journal, 12(1).

Schoormann, T., Möller, F., Hoppe, C. and vom Brocke, J. (2025) ‘Digital sustainability: understanding and managing tensions’, Business & Information Systems Engineering, 67, pp. 429–438.

World Economic Forum (2025) The Future of Jobs Report 2025.

Dr Amrik Singh is a Senior Teaching Fellow at Aston University, UK. He has over 15 years of academic experience in Higher Education. He is also a Senior Fellow of the Advance HE, SFHEA. His teaching areas includes operations management, effective management consultancy, and business operations excellence. 

Joy Garfield holds a PhD in Informatics from the University of Manchester, UK.  She is a Senior Teaching Fellow and Deputy Head of Department for Business Analytics and Information Systems at Aston Business School, Aston University, UK.  With over 20 years of experience in academia, Joy is a Senior Fellow of the Higher Education Academy.  Joy is currently an external examiner for the University of Westminster Tashkent, Uzbekistan and a member of the Governing Council of the Society for Research into Higher Education.


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Pragmatic problem-solving for inclusive doctoral admission

by Bing Lu, Rebekah Smith McGloin and Scott Foster

This blog post reflects on ongoing collaborative efforts to advance more equitable doctoral admissions between a group of UK institutions. It argues that transforming graduate admissions is not simply driven by competitive logic, nor by a search for a single, universal framework that can be applied across the sector. Instead, sector-level change emerges through collective, interactional, and often emotional work.

Inclusive postgraduate research (PGR) admission and recruitment have become an increasing global concern (Posselt, 2016; Bastedo, 2026; Boghdady, 2025). Drawing on ongoing collaborative work between a group of UK institutions, this blog post reflects on collective efforts to advance more equitable doctoral admissions. We argue that inclusive doctoral admission is not a competition to produce an exhaustive, finished framework, but an ongoing process of collective problem solving, one that requires humility, openness, and sustained commitment across institutional boundaries.

PGR students are strategically vital to the UK’s research capacity, innovation and future academic workforce. PhD programmes increasingly function as the primary entry route into academic careers and shape who is able to imagine themselves, and be recognised, as future researchers. Within the doctoral lifecycle, admission is a particularly critical intervention point. Yet, compared with undergraduate or taught postgraduate recruitment, the mechanisms shaping PGR admissions have historically received less sustained scrutiny.

A report commissioned by the Higher Education Funding Council for England (HEFCE) in 2014 highlighted that UK institutions primarily value academic attainment, the quality of research proposals, and evidence of prior research skills when selecting candidates (Mellors-Bourne et al, 2014). Since 2020, a growing body of UK-based scholarship has begun to highlight equity issues in doctoral selection (McGloin & Wynne, 2022; Oyinloye & Wakeling 2023; Mateos‑González & Wakeling, 2022; Britton et al, 2020), and has sought to explore the ascriptive nature of systems and processes that underpin doctoral recruitment and admission.  Together, these studies identify a range of barriers. These include the persistence of ‘elite pipelines’, whereby attending a Russell Group university at undergraduate level strongly predicts access to elite postgraduate education, as well as the significant under-representation of British candidates from minoritised backgrounds at doctoral level, particularly within funded studentships. These patterns underscore the need to interrogate how merit, potential, and excellence are operationalised in practice.

The initiatives and the community of practice

Initiatives funded by Research England and Office for Students, including the Equity in Doctoral Education through Partnership and Innovation (EDEPI) programme, represent important attempts to push forward the agenda of inclusive PGR admissions in English Higher Education Institutions (HEIs). In 2022, EDEPI conducted a national survey on PGR admissions practices in UK HEIs. The study identified ten key barriers to inclusive admission in its final report EDEPI Postgraduate Researcher Admission Framework and led to the development of the Postgraduate Researcher Competency-Based Admission Framework. This framework deliberately shifts focus away from previous institutional prestige and historical academic attainment towards the specific skills, experiences and competencies which demonstrate future potential for doctoral research.

From 2024, EDEPI has fostered an inter-institutional Community of Practice involving a group of international and UK institutions to explore approaches for enhancing inclusive PGR admissions collectively. Within this community, three institutions engaged as case studies to trial new approaches to evaluating applicants beyond conventional academic metrics, building on the Competency Framework. Through regular facilitated discussions, shared reflective practices, collaborative webinars and a jointly organised symposium on Fostering inclusive doctoral admission, participating institutions work alongside the EDEPI team to explore challenges and embed equity-driven principles into their PGR admissions processes.

Key learning from collective work

One of the most important lessons drawn from this collective institutional effort is that, while institutions hold different conceptions of fairness and merit shaped by their unique contexts, they nonetheless share a commitment to addressing persistent equity issues. This aligns with the findings of the sector survey (Smith McGloin et al, 2024) which found an overwhelming commitment to inclusive practice, an awareness of the need for change and huge complexity in existing processes with multiple stakeholders and drivers. This work is neither straightforward nor purely normative; it is complex, negotiated, and deeply pragmatic.

For example, in staff training workshops, academic colleagues described their deliberate efforts to apply equity principles when making departmental admissions decisions. Professional services staff, meanwhile, highlighted their role in carefully matching applicants’ proposals and disciplinary backgrounds to appropriate departments, ensuring that applications reach the review stage rather than being filtered out prematurely. Where resistance or hesitation arose around the introduction of yet another ‘framework’, this was less about rejecting equity goals and more about uncertainty regarding feasible, appropriate, and sustainable implementation.

Debates around distributive fairness versus procedural fairness illustrate this tension clearly (Boliver et al, 2022). Graduate admissions are not objective measurements of worth but sites of intense organisational boundary work, where judgements about potential, fit, and excellence are continuously negotiated. These discussions echo longstanding sociological insights into academic evaluation. Lamont (2009), for instance, argues that in real-world academic review, excellence and diversity are not alternative principles but additive ones. Staff involved in PGR admissions are often guided by pragmatic, problem-solving considerations, caught between institutional principles, personal commitments, and procedural constraints. Panels are typically required to reach consensus on a limited number of candidates within tight timeframes, and these practical pressures shape how fairness is understood and enacted.

Within this ‘black box’ of academic decision-making, Bourdieu’s Homo Academicus is frequently cited to explain how scholars’ legitimate visions of high-quality research and defend disciplinary boundaries, with conflicts often most pronounced among those occupying similar positions. Our collective work over the past 12 months, however, suggests a more nuanced picture. Admissions staff, both academic and professional, are motivated not only by positional interests but also by a shared, pragmatic curiosity about how to solve persistent problems together. The Community of Practice created space for dialogue, uncertainty, and learning, enabling participants to reflect on their own assumptions while engaging with others’ institutional constraints.  Transforming graduate admissions, then, is not simply driven by competitive logic, nor by a search for a single, universal framework that can be applied across the sector. Instead, sector-level change emerges through collective, interactional, and often emotional work. A recent WonkHE article, How to level the PhD playing field, posed a critical question: does the sector have the collective will to move beyond well-intentioned initiatives towards the structural changes required to address inequities among PGRs?

The experiences emerging from EDEPI offer cautious but promising evidence. They demonstrate how institutions with differing histories, resources, and institutional affordances can nonetheless work together pragmatically to enhance admissions practices. Inclusive doctoral admission, in this sense, is not a finished model to be adopted but an ongoing process of collective problem solving, one that requires humility, openness, and sustained commitment across institutional boundaries. Through the established Community of Practice, the EDEPI framework has also begun to attract interest from institutions in international contexts, despite differing governance structures, as a means of collectively developing equity-oriented approaches to PGR admissions through shared learning.

Closing summary

Inclusive PGR admissions require ongoing, collaborative work, as shown through EDEPI’s efforts to help institutions rethink how fairness, potential, and merit are assessed. Colleagues across academic and professional roles demonstrate that excellence and diversity can be mutually reinforcing when supported by reflective practice and shared experimentation. Future progress depends on refining competency-based approaches, tracking applicant journeys, expanding training and co-creation, and translating these insights into clearer sector guidance and policy.

Dr Bing Lu is a higher education scholar based at Nottingham Trent University and University of Warwick. Bing’s research critically engages with access, equity, and sustainability in postgraduate education, focusing particularly on underrepresented groups and the global flows of academic labour. Bing is currently guest editing a Special Issue on Taboos in Doctoral Education Across Cultures hosted by Higher Education Quarterly.

Dr Rebekah Smith McGloin is Director of Research Culture and Environment at Nottingham Trent University and Chair of the UK Council for Graduate Education. Her focus is on innovations in practice and national policy work related to new and emerging forms of doctorate that align with the changing research, innovation and skills policy landscape; including research culture reform, civic-engaged and inclusive doctoral education and equity-focused admissions.

Scott Foster is a professor specialising in postgraduate research culture and academic leadership. He has published extensively on equity, well-being, and innovation in doctoral education. Through influential articles and forthcoming book projects, he advances global research culture while supporting institutions to strengthen policy, supervision, and the doctoral experience.


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Reclaiming the academic community: why universities need more than metrics

by Sigurður Kristinsson

For decades, talk of “the academic community” has flowed easily through mission statements, strategy documents, and speeches from university leadership. Yet few stop to consider what this community is or why it matters. As universities increasingly orient themselves toward markets, rankings, and performance metrics, the gap between the ideal of academic community and the lived reality of academic work has widened. But this drift is not merely unfortunate; it threatens the very values that justify the existence of universities in the first place.

This blog explores why academic community is essential to higher education, how contemporary systems undermine it, and what a renewed vision of academic life might require.

What do we mean when we talk about “community”?

The word “community” can be used in two different senses. One is descriptive: communities are simply networks of people connected by place, shared interests or regular interaction. From this sociological standpoint, academic communities consist of overlapping groups (faculty, students, administrators, service professionals) brought together by institutional roles, disciplinary identities, or digital networks, perhaps experiencing a sense of belonging, solidarity, and shared purpose.

But in debates about the purpose and future of universities, “community” is often used in a normative sense: an ideal of how academics ought to relate to one another. In Humboldtian (1810) spirit, contemporary advocates like Fitzpatrick (2021, 2024) and Bennett (1998, 2003) envision academic community as a moral and intellectual culture grounded in shared purpose, generosity, intellectual hospitality, mutual respect, and the collective pursuit of knowledge. From this philosophical perspective, community is not just a cluster of networks to be analyzed empirically but a normative vision of how scholarly life becomes meaningful. This aspirational view stands in stark contrast to the conditions shaping many universities today.

The pressures pulling academic life apart

For several decades, developments in universities around the world have been hostile to academic community. While the precise mechanisms vary, academics report strikingly similar pressures: managerial oversight, performance auditing, intensifying competition, and the steady erosion of collegial structures and shared governance. Five threats to academic community are particularly worrisome:

Organisational (not occupational) professionalism

In her analysis of how managerial logic has co-opted the language of professionalism to justify top-down control in public institutions, Julia Evetts (2003, 2009, 2011) introduced a distinction between occupational and organisational professionalism. Occupational professionalism in academia implies membership in a self-governing community of experts committed to serving society through knowledge. Today, however, universities increasingly define professionalism in organisational terms: compliance with targets, performance indicators, and standardised procedures. The result is a hybrid system: academics retain some autonomy, but it is overshadowed by bureaucratic accountability structures that fragment communal relationships and discourage collective responsibility (Siekkinen et al, 2020).

Managerialism

Managerialism prizes measurable production outputs, standardized procedures, and vertical decision-making. As Metz (2017) argues, these mechanisms degrade communal relationships among academics as well as between them and managers, students, and wider society: decisions are imposed without consultation; bonus systems reward narrow indicators rather than communal priorities; and bureaucratic layers reduce opportunities for collegial dialogue. Managerialism replaces trust with surveillance and collegial judgment with quantification.

Individualism

The rise of competition – over publications, grants, rankings, and prestige – has amplified what Bennett (2003) called “insistent individualism.” Colleagues become rivals or useful instruments. Achievements become personal currency. In such settings, it is easy to see oneself not as part of a community pursuing shared goods but as an isolated producer of measurable outputs. This ethos erodes the solidarity and relationality necessary for any robust academic culture.

Retreat from academic citizenship

Academic citizenship refers to the contributions – committee work, mentoring, governance, public engagement – that sustain universities beyond research and teaching. Yet because these activities are difficult to measure and often unrewarded, they are increasingly neglected (Macfarlane, 2005; Feldt et al, 2024). This neglect fragments institutions and weakens the norms of shared responsibility that should hold academic life together.

Troubled collegiality

Collegiality includes participatory and collective decision-making, a presumption of shared values, absence of hierarchy, supportiveness, a shared commitment to a common good, trust beyond a typical workplace, and professional autonomy. It has long been central to academic identity but has become contested. Some experience collegial labor as invisible and unevenly distributed; others see managerial attempts to measure collegiality as just another way of disciplining staff. Efforts to quantify collegiality may correct some injustices but also risk instrumentalizing it, turning a relational ideal into a bureaucratic category (Craig et al, 2025; Fleming and Harley, 2024; Gavin et al, 2023).

Across all these pressures, a common thread emerges: the forces shaping contemporary academia weaken the relationships required for intellectual work to flourish.

Why academic community matters

If community is eroding, why should we care? The answer lies in the link between community and the values that higher education claims to serve. A helpful framework comes from value theory, which distinguishes between instrumental, constitutive, and intrinsic goods.

Community as instrumentally valuable

Academic community helps produce the outcomes universities care about: research breakthroughs, learning, intellectual development, and democratic engagement. Collaboration makes research stronger. Peer support helps people grow. Shared norms encourage integrity, rigor, and creativity. Without community, academic values become harder to realize.

Community as constitutive of academic values

In many cases, community is not merely a helpful means but a necessary constituent. Scientific knowledge, as philosophers of science like Merton (1979) and Longino (1990) have long emphasized, is inherently social: it requires communal critique, peer review, and collective norms to distinguish knowledge from error. Learning, too, is fundamentally relational, as Vygotsky (1978) and Dewey (1916) argued. You cannot have science or education without community.

Community as intrinsically valuable

Beyond producing useful outcomes, community enriches human life. Belonging, shared purpose, and intellectual companionship are deeply fulfilling. Academic community offers a sense of identity, meaning, and solidarity that transcends individual achievement (Metz, 2017). In this sense, community contributes directly to human flourishing.

How community shapes academic life

Several examples show how academic values depend on community in practice:

Debates about educational values

The pursuit of academic values requires reflection on their meaning. Interpretive arguments about values like autonomy, virtue, or justice in education contribute to conversations that presuppose the collective norms of academic community (Nussbaum, 2010; Ebels-Duggan, 2015). These debates require shared standards of reasoning, openness to critique, and a shared commitment to better understanding.

Scientific knowledge and academic freedom

No individual can produce knowledge alone. Scientific communities ensure that discoveries are evaluated, replicated, and integrated into a larger body of understanding. Likewise, academic freedom is not a personal privilege but a communal norm that protects open inquiry (Calhoun, 2009; Frímannsson et al, 2022). It depends on solidarity among scholars.

Teaching as communal practice

Education flourishes in relational settings. Classrooms become communities in which teachers and students jointly pursue understanding. Weithman (2015) describes this as “academic friendship” – a form of companionship that expands imagination, fosters intellectual virtues, and shapes future citizens.

Across these cases, community is not optional; it is essential to academic values.

Rebuilding scademic community: structural and cultural change

Given its importance, how might universities cultivate stronger academic communities?

Structural reform

Universities should try to resist the dominance of market logic. Sector-wide policy changes could help rebalance priorities. Hiring, promotion, and reward systems should value teaching, service, mentorship, and public engagement rather than focusing exclusively on quantifiable research metrics. Without structural support, cultural change will be difficult.

Cultural renewal

A healthier academic culture requires a different mindset—one that foregrounds generosity, relationality, and shared purpose. In Generous Thinking, Fitzpatrick (2021) argues that building real community requires humility, conversation, listening, and collaboration. Community cannot be mandated; it must be practised.

This requires academics to challenge competitive individualism, share work equitably, strengthen trust and dialogue, and reimagine collegiality as a lived practice rather than a managerial tool. Most importantly, it requires us to recognize ourselves as fundamentally relational beings whose professional purpose is intertwined with others.

A moral case for academic community

Academic community is not only epistemically valuable; it is morally significant. Relational moral theories argue that human flourishing depends on identity and solidarity. We become the moral human beings we are through our communal relationships (Metz, 2021).

Applying this to academia reveals that collegiality is grounded in shared identity and shared ends. Since the moral obligations created by academic relationships remain professional, collegial community does not require intrusive intimacy. Far from suppressing dissent or professional autonomy, solidarity requires defending academic freedom and academic values generally.

A relational understanding of morality thus implies that the ideal of academic community promises not only a more fulfilling and coherent sense of occupational purpose, but also a way of relating to others that is more satisfying morally than the current environment individualistic competition.

Conclusion: the future depends on community

Universities today face an existential challenge. In the rush to satisfy markets, rankings, and managerial demands, they risk undermining the very relationships that make academic life meaningful. Academic community is not a nostalgic ideal; it is the cornerstone of learning, knowledge, virtue, and human flourishing.

If higher education is to reclaim a sense of purpose, it must begin by cultivating the social and moral conditions in which genuine community can grow. This requires structural reforms, cultural renewal, and a shared commitment to relational values. Without such efforts, universities will continue drifting toward fragmentation, losing sight of the goods they exist to protect.

Rebuilding academic community is not merely desirable. It is necessary – for the integrity of scholarship, for the flourishing of those who work within universities, and for the public good that higher education is meant to serve.

Sigurður Kristinsson is a Professor of Philosophy at the University of Akureyri, Iceland. His research applies moral and political philosophy in various contexts of professional practice, increasingly intersecting with the philosophy of higher education with emphasis on the social and democratic role of universities.


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Gender governance and the global grammar of illiberal inclusion

by Ourania Filippakou

Across global higher education, the terms of justice, equality and inclusion are being rewritten. In recent years, the rollback of diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) initiatives in the United States (Spitalniak, 2025) has unfolded alongside a global resurgence of anti-gender, ultra-nationalist, racialised and colonial politics (Brechenmacher, 2025). At the same time, the rise of authoritarian and far-right ideologies, together with deepening socioeconomic inequalities fuelled by an ascendant billionaire class (Klein and Taylor, 2025) and the growing portrayal of feminist and queer scholarship as ideological extremism (Pitts-Taylor and Wood, 2025), signal a profound shift in the rationalities shaping the politics of higher education. These developments do not reject inclusion; they refashion it. Equality becomes excess, dissent is recast as disorder, and inclusion is reconstituted as a technology of governance.

This conjuncture, what Stuart Hall (Hall in Hall and Massey, 2010, p57) would call the alignment of economic, political and cultural forces, requires a vocabulary capable of capturing continuity and rupture. It also reflects the deepening crisis of neoliberalism, whose governing logics become more coercive as their legitimacy wanes (Beckert, 2025; Menand, 2023). As Hall reminds us, ‘a conjuncture is a period when different social, political, economic and ideological contradictions… or as Althusser said ‘fuse in a ruptural unity’’ (Hall in Hall and Massey, 2012, p57). A conjuncture, in this sense, does not resolve crisis but produces new configurations of ideological coherence and institutional control. In my recent article, ‘Managed Inclusion and the Politics of Erasure: Gender Governance in Higher Education under Neoliberal Authoritarianism’ (Review of Education, Pedagogy & Cultural Studies, 2025), I theorise these developments as a global grammar of illiberal inclusion: a political rationality that appropriates the language of equity while disabling its redistributive, democratic and epistemic force. The article develops a typology of symbolic, technocratic and transformative inclusion to examine how feminist, anti-caste and critical vocabularies are increasingly absorbed into systems of civility, visibility and procedural control. Transformative inclusion, the configuration most aligned with redistribution, dissent and epistemic plurality, is the one most forcefully neutralised.

Across geopolitical contexts, from postcolonial states to liberal democracies, gender inclusion is increasingly appropriated not as a demand for justice but as a mechanism of control. The techniques of co-option vary, yet they consolidate into a shared political rationality in which equity is stripped of redistributive force and redeployed to affirm institutional legitimacy, nationalist virtue and market competitiveness. This is not a rupture with neoliberal governance but its intensification through more disciplinary and exclusionary forms. For example, in India, the National Education Policy 2020 invokes empowerment while enacting epistemic erasure, systematically marginalising the knowledges of women from subordinated caste, class and religious communities (Peerzada et al, 2024; Patil, 2023; Singh, 2023). At the same time, state-led campaigns such as Beti Bachao elevate women’s visibility only within ideals of modesty and nationalist virtue (Chhachhi, 2020). In Hungary, the 2018 ban on gender studies aligned higher education with labour-market imperatives and nationalist agendas (Barát, 2022; Zsubori, 2018). In Turkey, reforms under Erdoğan consolidate patriarchal norms while constraining feminist organising (Zihnioğlu and Kourou, 2025). Here, gender inclusion is tolerated only when it reinforces state agendas and restricts dissent.

Elsewhere, inclusion is recast as ideological deviance. In the United States, the Trump-era rollback of DEI initiatives and reproductive rights has weaponised inclusion as a spectre of radicalism, disproportionately targeting racialised and LGBTQ+ communities (Amnesty International, 2024; Chao-Fong, 2025). In Argentina, Milei abolished the Ministry of Women, describing feminism as fiscally irresponsible (James, 2024). In Italy, Meloni’s government invokes ‘traditional values’ to erode anti-discrimination frameworks (De Giorgi et al, 2023, p.v11i1.6042). In these cases, inclusion is not merely neutralised but actively vilified, its political charge reframed as cultural threat.

Even when inclusion is celebrated, it is tethered to respectability and moral legibility. In France, femonationalist discourses instrumentalise gender equality to legitimise anti-Muslim policy (Farris, 2012; Möser, 2022). In Greece, conservative statecraft reframes inclusion through familialist narratives while dismantling equality infrastructures (Bempeza, 2025). These patterns reflect a longer political repertoire in which authoritarian and ultra-nationalist projects mobilise idealised domestic femininity to naturalise social hierarchies. As historian Diana Garvin (Garvin quoted in Matei, 2025) notes, ‘what fascisms old and new have in common is they tend to look to women to fill in the gaps that the state misses’, with contemporary ‘womanosphere’ influencers in the US reviving fantasies of domestic bliss that obscure intensified gendered precarity (Matei, 2025).

Such gendered constructions coexist with escalating violence. More than 50.000 women and girls were killed by intimate partners or family members in 2024, which means one woman or girl was killed every ten minutes, or 137 every day, according to the latest UNODC and UN Women femicide report (UNODC/UN Women, 2025). This sits within a wider continuum of harm: 83.000 women and girls were intentionally killed last year, and the report finds no sign of real progress. It also highlights a steep rise in digital violence, including harassment, stalking, gendered disinformation and deepfakes, which increasingly spills into offline contexts and contributes to more lethal forms of harm. These global patterns intersect with regional crises. For example, more than 7.000 women were killed in India in gender-related violence in 2022 (NCRB, 2023); eleven women are murdered daily in femicides across Latin America (NU CEPAL, 2024). At the same time, masculinist influencers such as Andrew Tate cultivate transnational publics organised around misogyny (Adams, 2025; Wescott et al, 2024). As UN Secretary-General António Guterres (2025) warns: ‘Instead of mainstreaming equal rights, we are seeing the mainstreaming of misogyny’.

These global pressures reverberate across institutions that have historically positioned themselves as democratic spaces, including universities, which increasingly recast gender equity as a reputational risk or cultural flashpoint rather than a democratic obligation (D’Angelo et al, 2024; McEwen and Narayanaswamy, 2023). Equity becomes an emblem of modernity to be audited, displayed and curated, rather than a demand for justice. Ahmed’s (2012) theorisation of non-performativity is essential here: institutions declare commitments to equality precisely to contain the transformations such commitments would require. In this context, symbolic and technocratic inclusion flourish, while the structural conditions for transformative inclusion continue to narrow.

These shifts reflect broader political and economic formations. Brown (2015) shows how neoliberal reason converts justice claims into performance demands, hollowing out democratic vocabularies. Fraser’s (2017) account of ‘progressive neoliberalism’ illuminates the terrain in which market liberalism coupled with selective diversity politics absorbs emancipatory discourse while preserving inequality. Patnaik (2021) argues that the rise of neofascism is a political necessity for neoliberalism in crisis, as rights are redefined as privileges and inclusion is repurposed to stabilise inequality. In this conjuncture, these tendencies intensify into what Giroux (2018, 2021, 2022a) names ‘neoliberal fascism’, a formation structured by three interlocking fundamentalisms: a market fundamentalism that commodifies all aspects of life, a religious fundamentalism that moralises inequality; and a regime of manufactured ignorance and militarised illiteracy that discredits critical thought and erases historical memory (Giroux 2022b, p48-54).

The United States now offers a further manifestation of this global pattern, illustrating how attacks on DEI can function as a broader assault on higher education. As recent analyses of US politics show, the first and particularly the second Trump administration is actively modelling itself on Viktor Orbán’s illiberal statecraft, centralising executive power, purging public institutions and mobilising ‘family values’ and anti-‘woke’ politics to reshape education and media governance (Giroux, 2017; Smith, 2025; Kauffmann, 2025). The dismantling of DEI under the Trump administration, framed as a defence of merit, free speech and fiscal responsibility (The White House, 2025), marks the beginning of a wider attempt to consolidate political influence over higher education. Executive orders targeting DEI have been followed by lawsuits, funding withdrawals and intensified federal scrutiny, prompting universities such as Michigan, Columbia and Chicago to scale back equality infrastructures, cut programmes and reduce humanities provision (cf Bleiler, 2025; Pickering, Cosgrove and Massel, 2025; Quinn, 2025). These developments do not simply eliminate DEI; they position anti-gender politics as a mechanism of disciplining universities, narrowing intellectual autonomy and extending political control over academic life. They exemplify wider global tendencies in which inclusion becomes a field through which illiberal projects consolidate authority. The assault on DEI is thus not a uniquely American phenomenon but part of a broader authoritarian turn in which inclusion is recoded to stabilise, rather than challenge, existing power.

Understanding gender governance in higher education through this conjunctural lens reveals not merely the erosion of equity but the emergence of a political formation that reconfigures inclusion into an apparatus of civility, visibility and administrative control. These tendencies are not aberrations but expressions of a larger global grammar that binds emancipatory rhetoric to authoritarian-neoliberal governance. The result is not the dilution of equality but its rearrangement as a practice of containment.

The implications for the sector are profound. If inclusion is increasingly reorganised through metrics, decorum and procedural compliance, then reclaiming its democratic potential requires an epistemic and institutional shift. Inclusion needs to be understood not as a reputational asset but as a commitment to justice, redistribution and collective struggle. This means recovering equality as political and pedagogical labour: the work of confronting injustice, protecting dissent and renewing the public imagination. Academic freedom and equality are inseparable: without equality, freedom becomes privilege; without freedom, equality becomes performance.

As Angela Davis (Davis quoted in Gerges, 2023) reminds us: ‘Diversity without structural transformation simply brings those who were previously excluded into a system as racist and misogynist as it was before… There can be no diversity and inclusion without transformation and justice.’ And as Henry Giroux (2025) argues, democracy depends on how societies fight over language, memory and possibility. That struggle now runs through the university itself, shaping its governance, its epistemic life and the courage to imagine more just and democratic possibilities.

Ourania Filippakou is a Professor of Education at Brunel University of London. Her research interrogates the politics of higher education, examining universities as contested spaces where power, inequality, and resistance intersect. Rooted in critical traditions, she explores how higher education can foster social justice, equity, and transformative change.


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Who gets to decide what counts as knowledge? Big tech, AI, and the future of epistemic agency in higher education

by Mehreen Ashraf, Eimear Nolan, Manuel F Ramirez, Gazi Islam and Dirk Lindebaum

Walk into almost any university today, and you can be sure to encounter the topic of AI and how it affects higher education (HE). AI applications, especially large language models (LLM), have become part of everyday academic life, being used for drafting outlines, summarising readings, and even helping students to ‘think’. For some, the emergence of LLMs is a revolution that makes learning more efficient and accessible. For others, it signals something far more unsettling: a shift in how and by whom knowledge is controlled. This latter point is the focus of our new article published in Organization Studies.

At the heart of our article is a shift in what is referred to epistemic (or knowledge) governance: the way in which knowledge is created, organised, and legitimised in HE. In plain terms, epistemic governance is about who gets to decide what counts as credible, whose voices are heard, and how the rules of knowing are set. Universities have historically been central to epistemic governance through peer review, academic freedom, teaching, and the public mission of scholarship. But as AI tools become deeply embedded in teaching and research, those rules are being rewritten not by educators or policymakers, but by the companies that own the technology.

From epistemic agents to epistemic consumers

Universities, academics, and students have traditionally been epistemic agents: active producers and interpreters of knowledge. They ask questions, test ideas, and challenge assumptions. But when we rely on AI systems to generate or validate content, we risk shifting from being agents of knowledge to consumers of knowledge. Technology takes on the heavy cognitive work: it finds sources, summarises arguments, and even produces prose that sounds academic. However, this efficiency comes at the cost of profound changes in the nature of intellectual work.

Students who rely on AI to tidy up their essays, or generate references, will learn less about the process of critically evaluating sources, connecting ideas and constructing arguments, which are essential for reasoning through complex problems. Academics who let AI draft research sections, or feed decision letters and reviewer reports into AI with the request that AI produces a ‘revision strategy’, might save time but lose the slow, reflective process that leads to original thought, while undercutting their own agency in the process. And institutions that embed AI into learning systems hand part of their epistemic governance – their authority to define what knowledge is and how it is judged – to private corporations.

This is not about individual laziness; it is structural. As Shoshana Zuboff argued in The age of surveillance capitalism, digital infrastructures do not just collect information, they reorganise how we value and act upon it. When universities become dependent on tools owned by big tech, they enter an ecosystem where the incentives are commercial, not educational.

Big tech and the politics of knowing

The idea that universities might lose control of knowledge sounds abstract, but it is already visible. Jisc’s 2024 framework on AI in tertiary education warns that institutions must not ‘outsource their intellectual labour to unaccountable systems,’ yet that outsourcing is happening quietly. Many UK universities, including the University of Oxford, have signed up to corporate AI platforms to be used by staff and students alike. This, in turn, facilitates the collection of data on learning behaviours that can be fed back into proprietary models.

This data loop gives big tech enormous influence over what is known and how it is known. A company’s algorithm can shape how research is accessed, which papers surface first, or which ‘learning outcomes’ appear most efficient to achieve. That’s epistemic governance in action: the invisible scaffolding that structures knowledge behind the scenes. At the same time, it is easy to see why AI technologies appeal to universities under pressure. AI tools promise speed, standardisation, lower costs, and measurable performance, all seductive in a sector struggling with staff shortages and audit culture. But those same features risk hollowing out the human side of scholarship: interpretation, dissent, and moral reasoning. The risk is not that AI will replace academics but that it will change them, turning universities from communities of inquiry into systems of verification.

The Humboldtian ideal and why it is still relevant

The modern research university was shaped by the 19th-century thinker Wilhelm von Humboldt, who imagined higher education as a public good, a space where teaching and research were united in the pursuit of understanding. The goal was not efficiency: it was freedom. Freedom to think, to question, to fail, and to imagine differently.

That ideal has never been perfectly achieved, but it remains a vital counterweight to market-driven logics that render AI a natural way forward in HE. When HE serves as a place of critical inquiry, it nourishes democracy itself. When it becomes a service industry optimised by algorithms, it risks producing what Žižek once called ‘humans who talk like chatbots’: fluent, but shallow.

The drift toward organised immaturity

Scholars like Andreas Scherer and colleagues describe this shift as organised immaturity: a condition where sociotechnical systems prompt us to stop thinking for ourselves. While AI tools appear to liberate us from labour, what is happening is that they are actually narrowing the space for judgment and doubt.

In HE, that immaturity shows up when students skip the reading because ‘ChatGPT can summarise it’, or when lecturers rely on AI slides rather than designing lessons for their own cohort. Each act seems harmless; but collectively, they erode our epistemic agency. The more we delegate cognition to systems optimised for efficiency, the less we cultivate the messy, reflective habits that sustain democratic thinking. Immanuel Kant once defined immaturity as ‘the inability to use one’s understanding without guidance from another.’ In the age of AI, that ‘other’ may well be an algorithm trained on millions of data points, but answerable to no one.

Reclaiming epistemic agency

So how can higher education reclaim its epistemic agency? The answer lies not only in rejecting AI but also in rethinking our possible relationships with it. Universities need to treat generative tools as objects of inquiry, not an invisible infrastructure. That means embedding critical digital literacy across curricula: not simply training students to use AI responsibly, but teaching them to question how it works, whose knowledge it privileges, and whose it leaves out.

In classrooms, educators could experiment with comparative exercises: have students write an essay on their own, then analyse an AI version of the same task. What’s missing? What assumptions are built in? How were students changed when the AI wrote the essay for them and when they wrote them themselves? As the Russell Group’s 2024 AI principles note, ‘critical engagement must remain at the heart of learning.’

In research, academics too must realise that their unique perspectives, disciplinary judgement, and interpretive voices matter, perhaps now more than ever, in a system where AI’s homogenisation of knowledge looms. We need to understand that the more we subscribe to values of optimisation and efficiency as preferred ways of doing academic work, the more natural the penetration of AI into HE will unfold.

Institutionally, universities might consider building open, transparent AI systems through consortia, rather than depending entirely on proprietary tools. This isn’t just about ethics; it’s about governance and ensuring that epistemic authority remains a public, democratic responsibility.

Why this matters to you

Epistemic governance and epistemic agency may sound like abstract academic terms, but they refer to something fundamental: the ability of societies and citizens (not just ‘workers’) to think for themselves when/if universities lose control over how knowledge is created, validated and shared. When that happens, we risk not just changing education but weakening democracy. As journalist George Monbiot recently wrote, ‘you cannot speak truth to power if power controls your words.’ The same is true for HE. We cannot speak truth to power if power now writes our essays, marks our assignments, and curates our reading lists.

Mehreen Ashraf is an Assistant Professor at Cardiff Business School, Cardiff University, United Kingdom.

Eimear Nolan is an Associate Professor in International Business at Trinity Business School, Trinity College Dublin, Ireland.

Manuel F Ramirez is Lecturer in Organisation Studies at the University of Liverpool Management School, UK.

Gazi Islam is Professor of People, Organizations and Society at Grenoble Ecole de Management, France.

Dirk Lindebaum is Professor of Management and Organisation at the School of Management, University of Bath.


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Am I the Weakest Link?

by Paul Temple

Call me a sad old geezer, but I’m finding the never-ending positivity that characterises LinkedIn’s sunshine world rather wearing. To take one example, the “comment” options you’re offered after each post might run from “awesome“, through “love this,” to merely “impressive”: where is “misleading”, “time-wasting”, or “plain wrong”? Anyway, turning this negativity (my “inner snark” as a kindly colleague once put it) into a business proposition, in a way that LinkedIn’s owners (Microsoft paid $26 billion for it back in 2016) would surely understand, I’m about to pitch a rival version,  provisionally titled PissedOff – though the investors might want to focus-group that first. (Warning: if this title offends you, please stop reading at this point.) It will instead tap into the deep wells of pessimism that characterise so much of British life (though the French surely are just as good at it). The sociologists refer to this kind of thinking as “narratives of decline”, supported by Britain’s unofficial national motto, “Could be worse”.

So a typical post on my new site might be: “Dave has just been fired from the University of Hounslow – ‘I always hated the place anyway, and the VC was a complete ****er,’ he said.” “Dave, absolutely with you, mate, the place is beyond awful, surprised you stuck it as long as you did”. “Dave, you speak for all of us who have suffered at Hounslow – I got out as soon as I could. Nobody who values their integrity should think of working there”. I’m confident that the latest from PissedOff will be the first email that everyone working in higher education will open in the morning, to see who/where is getting the flak. An absolute rule of the site will be that references to “seeking new challenges” or similar euphemisms are banned: if you’ve been fired, let’s hear about it, it’s (usually) nothing to be ashamed of – be loud and proud. What you’re now going to do is make them very, very sorry…

What will then happen is that everyone with a grudge about Hounslow (and which university doesn’t have an army of grudge-bearers?) will pile in, Four Yorkshiremen-style: “You think you had a bad time, let me tell you about what happened to me…”, and pretty soon the place will be a national laughing-stock. After the VC has had a torrid meeting with the governing body, and the HR Director has been fired as a pointless gesture, there might possibly be some improvements. I’d be surprised to learn of any institutional changes as a result of another glowing LinkedIn endorsement.

LinkedIn’s Californian roots are its problem. Up to a point, and having seen it working first-hand, I am actually in favour of American-style positivity in organisations: there is a sense that if the people around you are saying “Yes, we can do this!”, then maybe the difficulties can, actually, be overcome – what the Navy calls the “Nelson Touch”. But equally, some of those difficulties may be intractable, and pretending they don’t exist won’t make them go away. If you want some actual American examples of difficulties being overcome, or not, look at George Keller’s still-excellent Academic Strategy (1983), or my own more recent reflections on it (Temple, 2018). Or my review of some honest American case studies of university leadership and – the book’s best bits – of its failures (Temple, 2020).

What these studies show is how real problems are identified and how they then might be overcome. One of the weaknesses found in too many university strategy documents is the inability to face up to problems and creating instead a make-believe world (call it LinkedIn World) where everything always goes well and everyone is enjoying themselves. The danger, of course, is that strategy documents like that will make everyone pissed off even if they hadn’t been before. I once got into trouble with the VC of a post-92 university by asking, quite innocently (no, really), about the basis of a claim in a staff recruitment ad that they were a top-ten research university (something like that, anyway: as my then-colleague David Watson drily remarked, “Another fine mess you’ve got us into”.). This was a perfectly good university, doing a fine job in supporting regional development goals, doing next-to-no research (as measured by research income), but feeling it necessary to buy into the apex research university model. They were assuming that they had to live in LinkedIn World, rather than the world they were actually in. (I’m glad to say that the VC and I eventually parted on good terms – he even bought me a beer.)

Anyway, once the IPO for PissedOff goes through, do join me for a cocktail on the deck of my yacht in Monte Carlo. But leave any whingeing about your job back in the office – I don’t want the real world intruding on my Riviera idyll, thank you very much.

Dr Paul Temple is Honorary Associate Professor in the Centre for Higher Education Studies, UCL Institute of Education.


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Higher Education, High Hopes, and Heavy Bureaucracy

by Phil Power-Mason and Helen Charlton

UK higher education is pulled between its lofty ambitions for transformative learning and the managerialism that sometimes constrains their realisation. This tension defines the contemporary Higher Education workplace, where the mantras of “more with less” and “highly regulated freedom” collide with the desire for rich, personalised student experiences amidst fiscal belt-tightening, quantification, and standardisation. Bubbling through the cracks in any long-term political or economic vision for the sector is a professional identity steeped in ambivalence of purpose and position, one whose contradictions are nowhere rendered more vividly than in England’s higher and degree apprenticeships (HDAs). Conceived to braid university learning with workplace productivity, HDAs promise the best of both worlds yet must be delivered within one of the most prescriptive funding and inspection regimes in UK higher education. This provision also sits amidst a precarious and volatile political landscape, with continuous changes to funding rules, age limits and eligibility of different levels of study, and ‘fit’ within a still poorly defined skills and lifelong learning landscape.  

At the heart of this ongoing policy experiment stands an until-recently invisible workforce:  Higher Education Tripartite Practitioners (HETP). These quiet actors emerged as a series of pragmatic institution level responses to the Education and Skills Funding Agency (ESFA, now subsumed into the Department of Education) related to progress reviews involving the provider, apprentice, and employer. Yet, as we argued in our paper at the SRHE International Conference in December last year, they have evolved into nuanced, often misunderstood boundary-spanners who simultaneously inhabit academia, industry, and compliance. Part coach, part conduit, part compliance specialist, they facilitate developmental conversations, broker cultural differences, and ensure every clause of the ESFA rulebook is honoured. The quality of this brokerage is decisive; without it even the most carefully designed apprenticeship fractures under audit pressure.

Consider the core activities of HETPs. Much of their time is spent in close personal engagement with apprentices – fostering professional growth, guiding reflective practice, and offering pastoral support traditionally associated with mentoring. They encourage apprentices to think holistically, integrate theory with workplace reality, and map long-term career aspirations. Almost simultaneously, they must document progress reviews, monitor the evidence of every single hour of learning, and tick every regulatory box along a journey from initial skills analysis through to end point assessment.

This duality produces a daily oscillation between inspiring conversations and tedious paperwork. The tension is palpable and exhausting, revealing a deeper struggle between two visions of education: one expansive, transformative, and relational; the other restrictive, measurable, and dominated by compliance. Fuller and Unwin’s expansive–restrictive continuum maps neatly onto this predicament, underscoring how universities are urged by policymakers to deliver high-skilled graduates for economic growth while simultaneously squeezed by intensifying regulation and managerial oversight.

Little wonder, then, that HETPs describe their roles with the language of complexity, ambiguity, and invisibility. They are neither purely academic nor purely administrative. Instead, they occupy a liminal institutional space, mediating competing demands from employers, regulators, apprentices, and colleagues. Esmond captures the resulting “subaltern” status of these practitioners, whose contributions remain undervalued even as they shoulder the brunt of institutional attempts to innovate without overhauling legacy systems.

Their experiences lay bare the contradictions of contemporary university innovation. Institutions routinely trumpet responsiveness to labour-market need yet bolt new programmes onto structures optimised for conventional classroom delivery, leaving HETPs to reconcile expansive educational ideals with restrictive managerial realities. The role becomes a flashpoint: universities ask boundary-spanners to maintain quality, build relationships, and inspire learners within systems designed for something else entirely.

Yet amidst these tensions lies opportunity. The very ambiguity of the HETP role highlights the limits of existing support systems and points towards new professional identities and career pathways. Formal recognition of boundary-spanning expertise – relationship-building, negotiation, adaptability – would allow practitioners to progress without abandoning what makes their contribution distinctive. Communities of practice could break the apprenticeship echo-chamber and enrich the wider HE ecosystem, while institutional investment in bespoke professional development would equip practitioners to navigate the inherent tensions of their work.

Senior leadership must also acknowledge the strategic value of these hidden roles, reframing them not as incidental administrative burdens but as essential catalysts for integrated educational practice. Making such roles visible and valued would help universities reconcile expansive aspirations with regulatory realities and signal genuine commitment to reshaping education for contemporary challenges.

Policymakers and regulators, too, have lessons to learn. While accountability has its place, overly rigid compliance frameworks risk stifling innovation. Trust-based, proportionate regulation – emphasising quality, transparency, and developmental outcomes – would free practitioners to focus on learning rather than bureaucratic survival. The current neo-liberal distrust that imagines only regulation can safeguard public value inflates compliance costs and undermines the very economic ambitions it seeks to serve.

Ultimately, the emergence of HETPs challenges HE institutions to decide how serious they are about bridging academic learning and workplace practice. Recognising and empowering these quiet brokers would signal a genuine commitment to integrated, expansive education – an education capable of meeting economic demands without losing sight of deeper human and intellectual aspirations. HETPs are far more than practitioners managing checklists; they are a critical juncture at which universities must choose either to treat boundary-spanning labour as a stop-gap or to embrace the complexity and potential it represents.

Dr Phil Power-Mason is Head of Department for Strategic Management at Hertfordshire Business School, University of Hertfordshire, where he leads a diverse portfolio spanning executive education, apprenticeships and professional doctorates. A practice-focussed academic with a passion for innovative workforce development, Phil has overseen significant growth in the school’s business apprenticeships, MBA, and generalist provision, while nurturing cross-sector partnerships and embedding work-aligned learning at every level. With a research background in educational governance and strategy, he is a Senior Fellow of Advance HE and co-convenor of national apprenticeship knowledge networks. Phil’s research and sector leadership focus on emerging pedagogic and HE workforce practices, driving collaborative solutions that meet employer, learner and university needs. An invited speaker at national forums and a frequent contributor to sector conferences and publications, he remains committed to transforming vocational and work-ready learning practice for the future. (herts.ac.uk)

Dr Helen Charlton is Associate Professor of Work Aligned Learning and Head of Executive Education at Newcastle Business School, Northumbria University, where she leads the school’s business apprenticeships, executive CPD and distance-learning programmes. After almost a decade steering apprenticeship design and compliance, she stays keenly attuned to each fresh regulatory tweak – and the learning opportunities it provides. A former senior HR manager in the arts and not-for-profit sectors, Helen holds a Doctorate in Education and an MSc in Human Resource Management, is a Senior Fellow of Advance HE, a Chartered MCIPD, and a Chartered Manager and Fellow of the CMI. Her research examines how learners, employers and universities negotiate the tripartite realities of degree apprenticeships. (northumbria.ac.uk)


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The Harvard experience: could it happen here?

by GR Evans

On 1 May 2025 The Guardian headline read: ‘Trump administration exploits landmark civil rights act to fight universities’ diversity initiatives‘. What prevents a British King or Prime Minister from attempting to impose sanctions on universities?

US higher education is exposed both to presidential and to state interference. Government powers to intervene in US HE reside in presidential control of federal funding, which may come with conditions. Trump cannot simply shut down the Department of Education by executive order but it seems he can direct that the Department’s grant- and loan-giving functions are taken on by another government department.

As early as 2023 Donald Trump had said ‘We are going to choke off the money to schools that aid the Marxist assault on our American heritage and on Western civilization itself’. In response to campus protest he removed $400m of Columbia’s federal funding in March 2025 on the grounds that the University had failed to address the alleged ‘persistent harassment of Jewish students’. In April 2025 he gave orders to Ivy League universities, threatening withdrawal of funding if their teaching and research did not comply with Government policy as the President defined it and that their appointments should have regard to those expectations.

On 8 April the Washington Examiner reported a planned attempt to counter such action by legislation, that is to prevent Trump’s directives taking effect by amending the Higher Education Act of 1965 ‘to prohibit political litmus tests in accreditation of institutions of higher education and for other purposes.  On 10 April the Chronicle of Higher Education foresaw an Executive Order.

A letter to Harvard dated 11 April signed on behalf of the Department of Education and other federal agencies asserted that the United States had ‘invested in Harvard University’s operations’ because of ‘the value to the country’ of its work, but warned that ‘an investment is not an entitlement.’ This letter, if accepted, was to constitute ‘an agreement in principle’. Governance was to be ‘exclusively’ in the hands of those ‘tenured professors’ and ‘senior leadership’ who were ‘committed to the ‘changes indicated in this letter’. Its ‘hiring and related data’ and its student ‘admissions data’ were to be ‘shared with the federal Government’. International students ‘hostile to American values’ were not to be admitted and those already admitted  were to be reported to federal authorities. Policies on diversity, equity and inclusion were to end and student protest restricted.

Harvard and other Ivy League Universities were indignant. Harvard in particular rode the headlines for some days, objecting to the Government demand that it immediately agree:

to implement the Trump administration’s demands to overhaul the University’s governance and leadership, academic programs, admissions system, hiring process, and discipline system—with the promise of more demands to come

and thus ‘overtly seek to impose on Harvard University political views and policy preferences advanced by the Trump administration and commit the University to punishing disfavored speech’. There were reports that US academics were seeking to escape to employment in Canada,  the UK or Europe.

The American Association of Colleges and Universities(AACU), founded in 1915 as the Association of American Colleges, now has a wide-ranging  and international membership. It is a loose counterpart to the British Universities UK which also has a membership including an extensive range of higher education providers. The AACU issued a Call for Constructive Engagement on 22 April, 2025, but litigation was already in hand, with the President and Fellows of Harvard seeking declaratory and injunctive relief on 21 April. Harvard is listed as the plaintiff with a considerable list of defendants identified (paras 15-30). In its submission Harvard argued that:

American institutions of higher learning have in common the essential freedom to determine, on academic grounds, whom to admit and what is taught, how, and by whom

and that such ‘American institutions of higher learning’ were ‘essential to American prosperity’.

It stressed a ‘longstanding collaboration between universities such as Harvard and the federal government dating back to the Second World War’. It pointed to Harvard’s success in using federal funding to achieving significant research outcomes. The recent ‘broad attack of Government’ on ‘universities across America’, not only on Harvard and the other Ivy League Universities listed, had affected the ‘critical funding partnerships’ that made this invaluable research possible.

This case was being brought because, it was argued, the Government had been using ‘the withholding of federal funding as leverage to gain control of academic decision making at Harvard’. Harvard cited the Government’s letter of 11 April as demanding governance reform and a ‘third-party’ audit ‘of the viewpoints of Harvard’s student body, faculty, and staff’, followed by the hiring of new Faculty and admission of students whose views were satisfactory to the Government. It had asserted that teaching should be ‘to the Government’s satisfaction as determined in the Government’s sole discretion’ and to that end Harvard  should ‘terminate or reform its academic “programs” to the Government’s liking’. The Government had since ‘launched multiple investigations and other actions against Harvard’.  

The Government had ‘within hours of the Freeze Order ‘ended ‘$2.2 billion in multiyear grants and $60M in multiyear contract value to Harvard University’ and Harvard began receiving ‘stop work orders’. In order to bring a case against the Government it was essential for Harvard to establish that the Government’s action constituted a breach of public law. To that end it stated that the ‘Court has jurisdiction over Harvard’s claims’ because the University did not ‘seek money damages or an order mandating specific performance of any contract’, but:

an order declaring unlawful and setting aside sweeping agency action taken in violation of Harvard’s constitutional rights under the First Amendment and its rights guaranteed by statute and regulation.

Harvard stressed that even though it is a private university its research is federally funded ‘through a grant process administered by federal agencies’. It cited Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 which requires ‘a detailed and mandatory statutory framework’ of procedures to be followed. Harvard had its own procedures, added to or created in August, September and November 2024. Specifically in March 2025, Harvard released updated “Frequently Asked Questions” clarifying that both Jewish and Israeli identities are covered by the University’s Non-Discrimination Policy.

Harvard explained that it had attempted ‘collaboration’ in the weeks following the government letter and the Federal Task Force’s press release announcing campus visits. It had sought to arrange a meeting on the campus and that was scheduled for late April 2025, yet on April 20 it was reported that the ‘Trump administration has grown so furious with Harvard University’ that ‘it is planning to pull an additional $1 billion of the school’s funding for health research.’

Trump’s threatened sanctions concerned the future of Harvard’s funding. Harvard has endowments  of c$53 billion so any threat from Trump to reduce federal funding posed a limited risk to its future. However he made a further proposal on 18 April to remove Harvard’s exemption from Government tax on its income, which could have hit its normal operation harder.

The US counterpart to HMRC is its Internal Revenue Service (IRS). The IRS may grant tax-exempt status to a charitable, religious, scientific or literary organization, on condition that it refrains from campaigning or seeking to modify legislation. However, the President is not permitted to direct the IRS to conduct an investigation or audit. To that extent the counterbalancing of executive, legislative and judicial powers in the US seems to be holding.

Harvard was making its challenge at a time when the balance between the executive and the judiciary in the US had come into question in a number of cases where Trump’s executive orders sought to override the courts. It claimed that ‘the Freeze Order is part of a broader effort by the Government to punish Harvard for protecting its constitutional rights. … multiple news outlets have reported that the Internal Revenue Service is considering revoking its recognition of Harvard’s tax exempt status’. Representing 86 universities, the Presidents’ Alliance has filed an Amicus brief supporting the litigation.

Harvard sought in its litigation to have the Freeze Order declared unconstitutional and also the ‘unconstitutional conditions’ sought to be imposed  in the April 3 and April 11 and any action taken under it so far, also banning any future orders in the same vein. It pleaded six Counts, first a violation of the First Amendment in that the letters had targeted the ‘academic content that Harvard professors “teach students”’. Count 2 was that ‘even if the prerequisites of review under the Administrative Procedure Act were not satisfied, federal courts have the “equitable power” to “enjoin unconstitutional actions by state and federal officers.”’ Count 3 was that Title VI does not permit wholesale freezing of a recipient’s federal financial assistance. Instead, it requires that a “refusal to grant or to continue assistance” be “limited in its effect to the particular program, or part thereof, in which . . . noncompliance has been so found.” Count 4 was the Government’s failure to ‘comply with their own regulations before freezing Harvard’s federal financial assistance’. Count 5 alleged that the action had been arbitrary and capricious and Count 6 that it had been ultra vires.

At Indiana University a professor of Germanic studies was recently investigated under a state law after a student accused him of speech in support of Palestine.

Could this happen in the UK?

English higher education providers have their autonomy protected by the Higher Education and Research Act (2017)s.2 [HERA]. This legislation created the Office for Students, a non-departmental public body, whose nearest US counterpart is the Higher Learning Commission, an independent agency founded in 1895 which accredits higher education institutions. The University of Michigan, for example seeks, renewal of its accreditation from the Higher Learning Commission every ten years.

The Office for Students is both regulator and funder, and distributes Government funding to higher education providers. This may take into account ‘particular policy areas and government priorities. Yet HERA outlaws any attempt by the OfS to impose the restrictions Trump sought to impose on the universities of the USA.  English higher education providers must be free:

(i) to determine the content of particular courses and the manner in which they are taught, supervised and assessed,

(ii) to determine the criteria for the selection, appointment and dismissal of academic staff and apply those criteria in particular cases, and

(iii) to determine the criteria for the admission of students and apply those criteria in particular cases.

Academic staff in England also enjoy ‘freedom within the law’:

(i) to question and test received wisdom, and

(ii) to put forward new ideas and controversial or unpopular opinions,

without placing themselves in jeopardy of losing their jobs or privileges they may have at the providers.

There is some Government oversight. In protecting ‘the institutional autonomy of English higher e providers’, the Office for Students is subject to the ‘guidance’ of the Secretary of State, though Government requirements are held off by the legislative fencing.  The guidance of a higher education provider by the Office for Students:

must not relate to—

(a) particular parts of courses of study,

(b) the content of such courses,

(c) the manner in which they are taught, supervised or assessed,

(d) the criteria for the selection, appointment or dismissal of academic staff, or how they are applied, or

(e) the criteria for the admission of students, or how they are applied.

The legislation adds that:

guidance framed by reference to a particular course of study must not guide the OfS to perform a function in a way which prohibits or requires the provision of a particular course of study.

This seems to place universities safely out of reach of the kind of restrictions Trump sought to impose on Harvard and other Ivy League Universities, but the Office for Students is potentially able not only to set its Government funding levels but also affect its students’ access to loans from the Student Loans Company. That can certainly be at risk, for example in the case of the Oxford Business College, whose funding (via franchise arrangements) was blocked in April 2025 when it was found to have abused the student loan system by admitting unqualified students. (US accreditors do hold a lot of power, because universities must be accredited by a federally recognized agency in order to access federal student aid.)

Access to Government funding through the OfS requires listing by the Office for Students on its Register as an approved provider. The Office for Students did not impose its Conditions of Registration on pre-existing universities before including them in 2018 on its first Register under HERA. It simply treated them as proven acceptable providers of higher education. Each university duly publishes an account of its compliance (eg at Oxford) with the requirements which enable it to remain on the Office for Students Register. What might happen if they were found not to have done so? Short of removal from its Register the OfS has been known to impose fines, notably of more than £500,000 in the recent case of the University of Sussex when it was alleged to have failed to follow its own procedures designed to protect academic freedom.

Government oversight of the work of HE providers may overlap with or sit uneasily beside forms of ‘accreditation’ and ’qualification’. The accreditation of qualifications in the UK may be the responsibility of a number of ‘agencies’ external to HE providers, some of which are bodies offering professional qualifications. For example the Solicitors Regulation Authority keeps its own register of qualified solicitors. A university degree may not constitute a ‘qualification’ without the completion of further recognised study, some of which may be provided by the university itself, for example the Postgraduate Certificate in Education.

An area of ‘accreditation’ undergoing significant reform and expansion in the UK covers ‘skills’, including  apprenticeships. Not all universities offer their own apprenticeships, though they may recognise some of those available from other providers at Levels 4 and 5. Nevertheless ‘skills’ are potentially at risk of Government intervention. At the beginning of March 2025, the House of Lords was debating whether  ‘skills’ might benefit from the establishment of a ‘new executive agency’.

It was recognised that there would need to be a report from the Secretary of State  ‘containing draft proposals’ for an agency, ‘to be known as “Skills England”. Ian Sollom MPobjected that that that would represent ‘a significant centralising of power in the hands of the Secretary of State, without providing proper mechanisms for parliamentary oversight or accountability.’ A ‘statutory, departmental body would have more clout’, he argued.

An Institute for Apprenticeships and Technical Education (IfATE) already existed, but it was concerned with qualifications up to Level 5, short of degree-level 6. ‘Skills England’ was intended to begin work in April 2025. ‘When Skills England calls, will anybody answer the phone?’ asked HEPI, pointing to ‘limited autonomy, complex cross-departmental coordination, tensions between national and local priorities, and competing objectives between foundational and higher-level skills need’. Its ‘cross-departmental working’ with Government was unclear.

It looks as though some universities, at least, are safe from any initiative to interfere from above with the right to self-government and to determine what to teach and research. Harvard records a ‘revenue base’ of $65billion, with ‘federal funding ‘ as its largest source of support for research. The research income of Oxford, for example, is £778m, with commercial research income of £148m. That cannot compare with Harvard, but at least Oxford and some others will remain free to choose how to use that income for its academic purposes.

This is a modified version of an article first published by the Oxford Magazine No 477 in May 2025, republished with the permission of the editor and author.

SRHE member GR Evans is Emeritus Professor of Medieval Theology and Intellectual History in the University of Cambridge.