In 1853, one of the more flamboyant Prime Ministers of the United Kingdom, Benjamin Disraeli, described the ideal university as a place of “light, liberty and learning.” Commenting on the legacy of this quote more than one hundred years later, Disraeli’s biographer remarked that “it has not become such a truism that we can afford to forget it a century later.” Looking at the state of tertiary education in Australia today, I would say we forgot those words a very long time ago. Today, tertiary education resembles little more than any of the other flashy little shops which decorate Northbourne Avenue. We are programmed rather than taught, manufactured rather than inspired and pushed into a competitive and toxic world with little more than a participation ribbon. Many of us are saddled with debt which we will carry with us well into adulthood. Some of us are even bankrupted.
And for what? A degree is no longer the ticket to employment it once was for our parents. It does not even guarantee an interview. The ugly reality of our time is that it is now what the student is born into rather than what they create which determines their future. Our universities make the mistake of assuming that every student has access to the same resources and that they will succeed or fail on the basis of their academic performance. But even if academic performance is the great equaliser, how are these abilities tested? Through useless lectures and unimaginative tutorials? By writing dull essay after dull essay about a topic nobody cares about? By learning how to perfect the mediocre arts of copying, memorising and reciting the same thing over and over and over again? Our universities are no longer just insufficient or unsuitable, they are punishing and reductive. They turn enthusiasm into boredom and discriminate against imagination in favour of mediocrity. All in the name of “efficiency,” “productivity” and “learning.”
I did not always believe this. I, like many of you I guess, came to university full of hope and excitement. Finally, I thought, I can learn about stuff I really care about and I can study the things which I’m actually interested in. Due to my interest in government, I thought a Law/Politics, Philosophy and Economics (PPE) degree would be perfect. What could be better than a degree which combines law with politics, philosophy and economics? How wonderful! … I thought. Almost four years on, after I realised what PPE really is, after I realised how much of the law is really broken, and after I realised that HIRAC (Heading, Issue, Rule, Application, Conclusion) and not imagination was the key to HDs, my enthusiasm was no more.
I can only speak from my own experience. But I hope by sharing some of it, you might see where my disillusion began and why this system needs to change. I thought that my degree would give me the freedom and the passion to make a contribution to my community. I’ve always tried to be conscious of my privilege and rather than just doing what I thought the world expected me to do, I thought that a degree would give me the tools to help others. Naïve I know. Fanciful even. Maybe just stupid. I probably should have known that I was entering an institution which had more in common with Waystar/Royco from Succession than the library of Alexandria. There were two moments when I seriously considered changing my degree and doing something else. One pre-pandemic and one during the second ACT lockdown. I told myself that I stuck with it in the hope it would get better. But if I’m honest with myself it was probably because I didn’t know what the ‘something else’ was. Should I change degrees? Should I change courses? Should I drop out? I had no idea.
My first flirtation with disillusion was in one of the early PPE integration courses. It was so worthless I genuinely cannot remember anything else we learnt except one particular topic. The course (I think?) focused on the politics side of the degree. One day we were presented with the ‘voting equation’ a mathematical formula which was supposedly designed to determine if and how someone would vote. I was paralysed by a mix of shock and incredulity. I thought to myself, what the fuck? Does any voter anywhere in the world sit down at the voting booths and work this shit out? Is this what Antony Green programs into his computer every election night? For fuck’s sake! At this point, I realised that PPE was not a convenient and elegant combination of three crucial disciplines into one, but was instead its own ideology, and not one I found interesting, useful or factual.
But, I told myself, there is still hope for the law. Even if PPE is just a solution in search of a problem, or an extended TEDtalk in search of an audience, all change starts and ends with the law. Surely, I told myself, studying the law must also include evaluating the law, learning if and how it works, by what principles and importantly, for whom. Of course, I was wrong.
Throughout my entire law degree, I have done two subjects which fit that description. Every other course has been either interesting content taught by dull people, dull content taught by dull people, or amoral content taught by interesting people. There was one course where I had another what the fuck moment. Generally I thought Equity and Trusts was taught well, but the law itself made me sick. There was one case I will always remember – Re Diplock. The children of a deceased man sued a hospital for refurbishing its children’s ward with their father’s trust money. A children’s ward. I thought to myself, is this what I’ll be doing in 10 years’ time? Helping dickheads sue a children’s hospital? And yet, during the entire course, no one ever asked if the law was just. Not once.
Originally published in Woroni Vol.72 Issue 1 ‘Evolution’
Comments Off on How the ANU Spent $603,093 of Your SSAF Money This Year
If you’ve ever gone to a club’s event to snack on some pizza, snagged a goody bag (or two) during O-Week, or used any services by ANUSA and PARSA, chances are you’ve already paid for it. Every year, full-time and part-time students pay around $300 and $150 as a Student Services and Amenities Fee (SSAF). Pooled together, this fee amounts to roughly 5.5 million dollars that ANUSA, PARSA, ANU Sport, Woroni, ANU Observer, and the University then spend on student services.
University regulations require each student organisation to report how they spend this money. But three recipients, all university organisations, do not have such reporting requirements. The only public information on how the ANU spends over 10% of the SSAF pool are fourteen dot points on the SSAF webpage. Following a Freedom of Information (FOI) request, we now know where the money goes.
The Finances
The three university organisations that receive SSAF income are: Student Engagement and Success, Student Learning and Development, and Research Skills and Training. I derived the figures below from each organisations’ 2020 SSAF bid estimates, mid-year financial updates, and their published allocations. They do not reflect exact spending, as the 2020 finances are only finalised at the start of next year, but they show how the university has allocated SSAF money to these organisations.
Three-fourths of the University’s SSAF funding goes to Student Engagement and Success (SES), totalling $440,225. SES spends around 70% ($305,325) of its SSAF on salaries for ANU staff, with two-thirds of this going to casual student positions, and 30% ($134,675) on program costs. These program costs include SET4ANU ($41,973), Griffin Hall ($28,000), Learning Communities $22,000), Student Research Conference ($15,000), ANU+ ($12,000), ANU Wellbeing Projects ($10,000), and the First Year Experience project ($5,927).
While the FOI documents do not show how SES distributed salaries this year, its 2020 SSAF bid notes an estimated breakdown in salary costs for 2019. Staff allocations include a professional full-time Student Wellbeing Co-ordinator ($122,000) and student casuals for learning communities ($58,000), the Student Research Conference ($42,000), orientation and transition ($17,500), Set4ANU mentoring ($45,000) and ANU+ ($27,498). Additionally, $8,000 was allocated to a Wilson Security bus driver for O-Week airport pick up. The 2019 salary estimates total $322,000, resulting in a $16,675 discrepancy to the 2020 SSAF allocation. In response to an email enquiry, the University did not confirm why there is a discrepancy but noted that there are differences between estimated and actual costs.**
Student Learning and Development (SLD) receives over two-thirds of the remaining amount, totalling at $112,868. SLD uses SSAF money to fund the Writing Centre ($81,868), English Conversation Groups ($15,500), ANU Undergraduate Research Journal ($8,500), and International in Focus ($7000). SLD spends 90% of their funding on student salaries, with the Writing Centre hiring six postgraduate students and the English Conversation Groups hiring three undergraduates. The ANU Undergraduate Research Journal costs pay for an Assistant Editor ($5,200) and cover other copyediting costs. The International in Focus program highlights international career opportunities for students, with SSAF funding covering conference costs.
Research Skills and Training (RST) receives $50,000 for the Thesis Bootcamp Program. In their 2020 SSAF Bid, RST notes the success of the program in helping doctoral students, especially in targeting vulnerable students at substantial risk of dropping out. RST ran this program with PARSA until 2019, when the association cut funding to the bootcamp programs. Due to COVID-19, RST delayed the camps until November and December, but estimates they will spend all $50,000. RST spends 88% of the camp’s costs, totalling $44,000, on catering and other minor items, with ANU Staff volunteering time and taking no salary. RST spends the remaining $6000 on running online journal and thesis writing bootcamps.
The Implications
We should not have to FOI the university to know how it spends our SSAF money. Yet, it is unsurprising that we must. ANU centrally manages the entire SSAF allocation process, with negotiation, bidding and distribution occurring in closed meetings between the University and the bidders. The University’s decision this year to do away with the SSAF bidding and allocate SSAF funding on its own projections is disappointing but not surprising given the overall lack of transparency.
Does the ANU have something to hide? Not really. Prior to 2020, SSAF bidders could scrutinise each other’s bids. The FOI documents do not show any fraud or mismanagement by university bodies. Some of the proposals even address student needs that other organisations have not prioritised. In comparison to most other universities, an 89% SSAF allocation to student-run organisations is exceptional. Yet, a potential reason for the University’s wariness is that transparency brings unwanted scrutiny.
A trip through the Woroni archives will unearth a decade of articles and debates on SSAF expenditure. Every ANUSA election, candidates clash over four-digit SSAF spending. Students regularly scrutinise student organisation budgets, whether through unfair calls to defund them to serious questions over corporate sponsorship. The financial transparency that these organisations provide even allow for in-depth critiques of their financial positions. While a few organisations receive more scrutiny than others, there is at least some scrutiny by students. That is not the case with the University’s spending.
In 2019 ANU Council minutes, the ANU maintains that its current method of consultation is adequate. If a student is not happy with SSAF allocations, they can email dissatisfaction to the relevant university executive. Yet, in a document publishing student feedback to SSAF allocations, the University barely engages with much feedback, with most comments ‘noting’ a response. In contrast, student organisations respond with detailed and empathetic comments. Notably, published responses for 2019 and 2020 are missing. Similarly, in an email inquiry, the ANU confirmed the survey helps guide priorities for SSAF expenditure. But they did not respond to ANUSA’s claims that the survey was irrelevant as SSAF expenditure for 2021 was already pre-set.
The Higher Education Support Act 2003 stipulates guidelines on how the University must formally consult student organisations on SSAF expenditure. In response to ANUSA’s claim of being ‘kicked out of the room’, the ANU stated it underwent several stages of informal and formal consultation with all SSAF stakeholders. The 2020 ANUSA President, Lachlan Day, noted that the ANU changed this year’s SSAF process to address delays in transferring funds and to acknowledge the difficulties of COVID-19. He maintains ANUSA’s position that bidding must take place since that, while the ANU sought feedback, it did not partake in ‘genuine’ consultation.
For 2021, ANU Council is deciding on a new SSAF process to distribute funds. This agenda item, however, was marked confidential. In comparison, the Council publicised the 2019 SSAF process. The 2020 Undergraduate Representative on ANU Council, Lachlan Day, confirmed that Council discussed a new SSAF process for 2021 but does not know why it was marked confidential. He notes that the ANU notified all SSAF receiving organisations and they gave feedback for this proposed process.
Advice from the Department of Education indicates that the SSAF allocation must be ‘transparent in process; visible; and consultative.’ Yet, this year we have seen no bidding, a pre-set allocation, and accusations of improper process by our student association. Even prior to 2020, the University showed signs of greater opaqueness over the SSAF process. The secrecy surrounding the new 2021 process and the lack of public information only further strains trust in what should be a fair process. In response to COVID-19, The ANU has shown it can be open and transparent with its finances. This should extend to the SSAF allocation.
The University needs to open its books to the same standard that it asks student organisations to. The SSAF ‘consultation’ cannot be pre-determined and should go beyond a student survey, publishing the proposed bids and inviting public submissions from the student body. Students deserve the right to question university organisations over SSAF expenditure and receive a fair and considered response. Without full transparency and democratic oversight over our student contributions, the University’s SSAF budgets risk inflating to levels found at other universities. It is up to us to make sure that does not happen at the ANU.
* I derived the number of casual student employees from the 2020 SSAF bid and the 2019 estimated salary expenditure. The University did not specify if this was correct in response to my email enquiry.
^ I used 2019 salary proportions as, while not exact, they are unlikely to massively differ to 2020 salary proportions. The University did not specify the 2020 salary proportions in my email enquiry.
**Editor’s note (24/12/2020): An earlier version of this article listed incorrect salary figures of ANU staff. This article has since been amended to correct this. We apologise for this error.
Kai Clark contested the position of Undergraduate Member on ANU Council (UMAC) in 2020.
At a time when Australian universities are facing devastating budget cuts, taking a closer look at the long-term consequences of directing funding away from education is essential. Investing in education secures the future economic health of a country. Although slashing university finances may seem a tempting option to save money now, the cost of making education inaccessible, particularly to women, will likely be detrimental for decades to come. Australia may not immediately incur the worst consequences of limiting access to education, but the sobering realities currently playing out elsewhere around the world should serve as a stark reminder of how much we stand to lose.
October 11 marked International Day of the Girl Child. This year, it was a day of especially solemn reflection. The World Bank estimates that the COVID-19 pandemic will push an additional ~100 million people into extreme poverty in 2020, causing concern that global poverty will increase for the first time since 1998. Consequently, girls from poverty-stricken families are being forced out of school and into marriage or work—to the extent that 25 years of progress towards ending child marriage threatens to be undone by COVID-19. The United Nations expects an additional 13 million child marriages to take place over the next decade as a result of the pandemic. Indeed, this ramification of COVID-19 is one of the most dire and severe.
Worldwide, more than 130 million girls are out of school and two-thirds of the world’s illiterate adults are women. Educating girls not only changes the lives of those girls—it also uplifts their families, communities, and countries. Prioritising girls’ education has a ‘multiplier effect’, ensuring women are able to lead safer, more autonomous lives, increase their earning potential, and invest in their children and communities by encouraging the cycle of education to continue. It is widely acknowledged that educating women is the most powerful way to address poverty, but ironically, poverty remains the most critical factor in determining whether a girl will have access to education.
For every extra year of education that a girl receives, her earning potential increases by 10-25%, and an educated woman invests nearly all (90%) of her income into her family and community. Increasing the proportion of educated women has shown to encourage economic growth through increased incomes. Having millions more educated women means having a stronger workforce, with the potential to add up to $12 trillion USD to the global economy. Furthermore, educated girls are healthier citizens who raise healthier families. As such, educating girls contributes to reduced rates of maternal and infant mortality as well as reduced incidence of malaria and HIV/AIDS.
It may interest Australians that supporting girls’ education in developing countries is of global benefit. The consequences of unequal access to education are not issues only affecting far-away, low-income nations. Educating women has a positive impact on agricultural production, thereby increasing global food security. That the 2020 Nobel Peace Prize was awarded to the World Food Programme is evidence that combating hunger is currently one of the most pressing international concerns. Conveniently, it is yet another issue that can be mitigated through educating girls. When women are included in a country’s policy-making process, decisions in the interest of mitigating climate change are more likely to be made. Unsurprisingly, the Brookings Institution has identified high school education for girls as the most cost-effective strategy to combat climate change.
Educating girls has also been suggested to increase a country’s resilience against natural disasters and public health emergencies. This year we’ve seen that countries with female leaders (e.g. Taiwan, New Zealand, and Germany) have been significantly more successful in addressing the challenges presented by the current global pandemic. Certainly, this is an excellent demonstration of what happens when women are given equal opportunity to learn and to lead.
Nevertheless, in many countries, particularly in South Asian and African countries, biases against girls are rife in schooling systems. This is largely a consequence of deep-seated cultural perspectives on gender roles. In many societies plagued by poverty, traditional values emphasise a woman as the homemaker solely responsible for caring for her children. Again, there is irony in the fact that these cultural norms making women the bedrock of society—and therefore, causing a woman’s level of education to more strongly influence the prosperity of the next generation than a man’s—actively discourage girls from attending school. An educated mother is more than twice as likely to send her children to school than a woman who was denied an education. Other factors hindering girls’ access to education are period stigma and lack of information about menstrual hygiene. Even when girls are educated about their periods, sanitary products are often unaffordable, forcing girls to skip school while menstruating.
As students at ANU, most of us acknowledge how lucky we are to have access to the exceptional opportunities and the world-class education we enjoy—even if 2020 has brought significant challenges and endless Zoom meetings. Nevertheless, we can simultaneously be angry and concerned about the wide-reaching damage that reduced funding to universities will cause, particularly given that the students who will suffer most are those who are already significantly disadvantaged.
With the end of semester drawing closer, bringing with it the stress of final exams and consecutive deadlines, we should still take the time to remember how many girls are denied even the chance to finish high school simply because they were born female. I encourage everyone to channel the frustration this should stir in you into action that advances the education of those denied the opportunities we enjoy as students in Australia, while also advocating for the protection of our own education system. Indeed, education should be a right, not a privilege.
If you want to learn about what Australian charities are doing to prevent girls from being locked out of education and how you can help, have a look at the work being done by some of the below organisations:
One Girl Australia: https://www.onegirl.org.au/
School for Life Foundation: https://www.schoolforlife.org.au/
Share the Dignity: https://www.sharethedignity.org.au/
Room to Read: https://www.roomtoread.org/
Think your name would look good in print? Woroni is always open for submissions. Email write@woroni.com.au with a pitch or draft. You can find more info on submitting here.
Comments Off on This is an Outpouring: An Open Letter to the Education Minister
To Dan Tehan, the Education Minister,
You have deemed it permissible to increase the student contribution for the humanities by 113%. That is why we find ourselves here, rallying our anger and thoughts into these words. We ask that you stop and listen.
In congratulating yourself for benefiting 60% of young people entering universities, you are failing to include the remaining 40%. As a representative in our Federal Government, you have a duty to 100% of students who choose to enter tertiary education.
A 113% hike in fees actively disadvantages future students by enforcing a monetary blockade to their desired education. You are signalling to past, present and future arts students that their degrees do not hold value, that employment opportunities for arts graduates will be dismal, and that young Australians should reconsider their pathways. You reinforce a state of psychological turbulence. You tell the 40% of university applicants that their degree is of lesser value to society and therefore they must pay this difference from their own pockets.
COVID-19 has been an incredibly taxing period for all. A myriad of studies highlight the concerning effects of isolation on mental health, particularly amongst young people. Rather than kicking young Australians while they’re down, you need to support and enable them to excel in the areas that they are passionate about, not those that you have deemed valid.
You are fixated on the economic value of jobs. In multiple government releases, you have asserted that this decision is vital to Australia’s economic recovery from COVID-19. The assumption that Arts degrees and economic growth are incompatible is flawed and wholly unsubstantiated. As a 2019 Graduate Outcomes survey reveals, Arts students are more likely to get jobs than Maths and Science graduates. This study shows that three years after graduation, 91.1% Arts graduates were employed compared to 90.1% of Science and Maths graduates. Three years out, Arts graduates were on average earning $70,300 to the $68,900 of their counterparts with Maths and Science degrees.
You refer repetitively to a toolkit of skills, asserting that the fee changes will “provide our young Australians with the skills they need for the jobs of the future”. Here you imply that the skills taught in Arts degrees are not those of the future. Yet an analysis of your own government’s publication of the ten attributes that employers of the future will be demanding throws these statements into serious doubt. Amongst these skills are creativity, originality and initiative, analytical thinking, complex problem-solving and emotional intelligence. These skills form the backbone of Arts degrees. These are the skills which prepare students for a future where technological advances, shifting knowledge landscapes and globalisation ground work spaces within endless uncertainty and fluctuation. Moreover, these skills are transferable between professions and industries. As a 2018 Deloitte Access Economic report reveals, transferable skills are the key to the future, where Australians are projected to have 17 different employers, and five to seven career changes over their lifetimes. What future workplaces demand, Arts students will supply.
Evidently, the rhetoric around this new policy has been purely framed in economic terms. Yet in making this argument, you forget that tertiary education centers around the flow of knowledge. With your suggestions and its consequences, this flow has been hardened, an economic transaction now replacing the once fluid interactions between a university and its students.
You yourself must know and cherish the role of the Arts, having studied this degree at Melbourne University and later pursuing further studies in foreign affairs and trade. Without it, any understanding of the world is rudimentary and obsolete, a testament to humanity’s devolution, not its evolution. But you seem to have forgotten its intrinsic value to our society beyond a monetary figure.
Let us remind you.
Driving, walking or biking to university and work, we listen to the news, audiobooks, music and podcasts. We engage with global and diverse voices, listening to their thoughts and absorbing new information which shapes our understanding of an ever-shifting cultural, political and social landscape. In snatches of free time, we devour books and avidly consume TV-shows. These are physical and digital channels of the Arts that have been a vital component of getting millions through lockdown periods across the nation.
We sit in the tutorials, or more recently, tune in over Zoom, to debate with and listen to our fellow students. Together we navigate the cavernous intersections of politics, economics, international affairs, defence, all ensconced within an ever important subtext of gender, class and race.
During Parliament Q&A or watching the 7:30pm news, the knowledge grounded within our Arts degrees helps to explain the complex and changeable power dynamics of parliament — of the seats that you hold and of the trust that our society places within you.
Raising our signs during a protest, joining thousands in a social movement, we question this power that you have been gifted. It is only through the Arts that we can challenge failing institutions and policies, resulting in a better understanding and connection to all the diverse individuals who call this place home.
Sitting across from culturally and linguistically unique people, whether it be in a restaurant, library table, family dining room or Zoom tutorial, the Arts underpins the basic empathy and understanding we need to honour Australia’s multicultural society.
Travelling overseas to our neighbouring countries, the interconnections and relationships that we study in our Arts degree are key to building long-lasting and genuine connections to our neighbors in the Indo-Pacific, and to cement Australia’s role as a global leader in this region.
The Arts enables us to question the mundane, the everyday, the norms taken for granted within society. It informs and nourishes. That is why we exist within a functioning society today. It ultimately encompasses all foundations and functions of our society; history, culture, politics, the fine arts and this, we argue, should be accessible to all. Not just the few. A future where 40%of students risk losing this accessibility is no future at all.
We ask you to propose policy that seeks to unite rather than fracture our society.
We ask you to propose policy that recognises the value of an education in the humanities. An education that fills the demand for transferable workplace skills and supplies our society with vital channels of criticism, debate and empathy.
We ask you to propose policy that looks beyond an economic lens, beyond a vision of universities as generators of productivity and money. We ask you to acknowledge that Arts degrees exist not only in terms of economic transactions, but within thought and cultural economies.
We ask you to propose policy that listens to our criticisms, absorbs our demands, and addresses our deep-seated concerns.
Sincerely,
Two Arts students studying at the ANU and Melbourne University
Think your name would look good in print? Woroni is always open for submissions. Email write@woroni.com.au with a pitch or draft. You can find more info on submitting here.
Comments Off on There’s No Such Thing as an ‘International’ Student
During my time on residential leadership we ran events hoping to involve international students in our hall’s community. These events, however, were run based on the presumption that all international student experiences are the same. They are not. A locally educated student from Japan, for example, is different to a western-educated student from Myanmar. Grouping ‘international students’ as if they are a unified, cohesive community misinforms our policies for inclusion. It is time we step away from this overly broad term and recognise these students as who they are: a diverse group of people with different needs and challenges.
According to the Australian government, the term ‘overseas student’ refers to students studying in a foreign institution who are not Australian or New Zealand citizens or Australian permanent residents. ANU, Australian National University Students’ Association and the International Student’s Department use the term ‘international student’ to the same effect. This is an accurate label when it is used solely to describe the legal and fee-paying status of the student. The problem arises when the term ‘international student’ moves past this narrow definition.
Few, if any, ‘international student’ identifies as such. Instead, they see themselves as who they are: a citizen of their home country. They are more likely to relate more with others from their country than with other overseas students. This is why cultural and country-specific clubs are so popular at ANU: they create a place for ambitious overseas students to cut one’s teeth in student leadership – sometimes after being rejected from college leadership.
Within the microcosm of overseas groups at ANU, we see reflections of the same stories and tensions back home. Mainland Chinese, Taiwanese, Hong Kong, and Singapore students are all generally seen as ‘Chinese’, yet the level of wealth, education, English language proficiency skills, and cultural upbringing varies. Ethnically homogenous China with its ‘new rich’ and rising middle class differs from the racially diverse Singapore, where English is the vernacular for many of its citizens. Yet, even these simple descriptions hide the complexities and contradictions of these places.
These complexities manifest more clearly when we ask a person to represent the ‘international community’. When there is only one international representative on a resident’s committee, the workload of dealing with overseas student engagement falls largely onto them. While it’s admirable for student residences to put on cultural events to engage both Australian and overseas students, a Chinese dumpling making event, for example, does not necessarily appeal to South Asian students as it would to East Asian students. This is exacerbated when you continue to see events that continue to borrow upon one cultural region over another
Even the very role of international representative limits the potential of international students to engage in their community. I have spoken to many who were hesitant to run for any other position on their residents’ committees because they felt that they didn’t ‘fit’ into the role as well as they would as an ‘international representative’. Conversely, I have heard students not vote for international students for other roles because they believed they were better suited for being an ‘international representative’.
So, what can we do to be more inclusive to international students? As student leaders in colleges, a good start is to triage. Some students are here to study and are content to be with one’s own. Others have a western background or education and the English and social skills to integrate successfully. The priority, instead, should be on the students who are in between, who want to be included into the community but are struggling.
These students are the ones who show up but need encouragement. It may be their lack of confidence in their English skills, their lack of understanding on Australian college life or it may be their unfamiliarity with the Australian social culture and norms that make conversations difficult for them. By supporting these students early on we enable them to participate in college culture. I have seen many students who, after a few weeks of constant struggle, give up from engaging all together. It is up to all of us to be more inclusive and welcoming.
But institutional change is also needed. ANU should step up in providing training to its student leaders and residential staff to effectively understand the legal, cultural, and socioeconomic barriers overseas students may face. I have seen Senior Residents and other leaders of the community pass judgements about a student’s fashion sense or behaviour which in the context of their home culture is the norm. We cannot expect the one international representative to educate a college on various cultural practices. That is everyone’s responsibility
ANU also needs to be more transparent in its policies for international student integration in residences. Many student leaders and Senior Residents I have spoken to have expressed cynicism about ANU’s uneven allocation of international students into various student accommodations. Likewise, despite international students making up a significant portion of the hall, many of them are left wondering why Senior Resident teams are largely made up of domestic students. We need more transparency around these decisions to have a fruitful and informative debate on overseas student integration into halls.
Finally, we must acknowledge the rising xenophobia around the term ‘international student’. Australian politics and discussions at ANU increasingly use ‘international student’ as a thinly veiled reference to new, rich generation of Chinese students – or as one student leader brazenly said to me, “Chinese spies”. Because of this, we must be careful of how we use language to refer to overseas students. They are people to be respected for their cultural diversity and humanity, not threats to our way of life.
The author served on the Bruce Hall Common Room Committee as Media Officer in 2018.
Comments Off on Diversity in Tertiary Science Education
Is science truly a meritocracy? A system in which the best ideas and thinkers rise to the top, like Brainiac sea-foam? Or do people from underrepresented minority groups – such as disabled females – face substantial systemic barriers that make their journey a bit like playing Fortnite in Battle Royale mode?
Research over the last decade tells us that diversity improves science. Most Australian universities have a defined list of policies, priorities and actions available to all staff and students that promote diversity. Indeed, many even develop initiatives that specifically target, recruit and enrol these students. On paper, it seems that diversity is encouraged, lauded and well-supported by both government and institutional policy and infrastructure. However, how well do these initiatives translate into the student experience?
A 2017 survey of underrepresented minority (URM) students say: not well. Appearances can be deceiving when it comes to gauging actual student experience – a bit like opening a $200 bottle of Bollinger only to discover that the wine is corked. Well, our initiatives are corked. So where is the disconnect? Why do diversity initiatives fail to reach the students they were designed to recruit and assist? For starters, the disconnect is not often academic in nature. The less tangible elements of the student experience –those not documented in university Subject Experience Surveys for example –are the ones that predominantly hinder women and other minorities in their academic journeys.
So, let’s look at diversity. The term merely describes differences within a group. Inclusion, in comparison, is about how these members are treated and how they feel. Emphasizing diversity without institutional, cultural inclusion merely increases the number of diverse scientists. It does not foster equity within the scientific or academic community.
The Australian Human Rights Commission is definitive in its assessment that ‘there are not enough services available to students with a disability to match the requirements’. Despite this, according to Universities Australia, there has been as 94% increase in enrolments by students with a disability over the last decade. As you would expect, there are reams of policy documents addressing both initiatives and codes of practice for universities. The Disability Discrimination Act of 1992 says that active measures must be taken to identify and remove barriers to learning that are reasonable and that do not impose unjustifiable hardship on the organisation. The Students with Disabilities Code of Practise for Australian Tertiary Institutions insists that (under section B1-6) ‘they (disabled students) will be treated with dignity and respect’, and further (under section H2e) that staff are ‘able to respond appropriately to the requirements of students with disabilities and call on timely specialist advice as required’.
Here’s how it translates into reality. A young woman with congenital distal spinal muscular atrophy is studying her undergraduate science degree at one of Australia’s most well-known regional universities. Due to her condition, she is reliant on her wheelchair, and hence she chooses to complete most of the program via distance education. However, Australian Qualifications Framework requirements mean that she must fulfil specific requirements for laboratory hours and face-to-face teaching hours via compulsory residential school sessions. Again, in line with the research, she does not face academic challenges – she is a multiple-time recipient of the Dean’s List academic recognition.
Her challenges are instead practical. The ageing laboratory facilities were not designed for wheelchair accessibility. This leaves her stuck out the front, unable to participate in experiments. Despite booking her accommodation at 9.01am on the day reservations become available, she arrives to discover that the one suitable accessible room out of all the university residences has been allocated to someone else…an ambulatory someone else at that. She is now in a room that doesn’t fit her wheelchair hoist, and in which she cannot shower for the four days that she is required to attend classes. She has little option for recourse. Residential schools often run over weekends, and as a result, there is no one around to fulfil the (H2e) codes of practice. In these circumstances, she is expected to both fully participate in class activities and complete a stressful mid-session examination without the basic human dignity of being able to shower or toilet safely.
Now, this university talks the talk. They value equity diversity. They are about ‘creating a fair and inclusive environment in which students and staff from all backgrounds can flourish’. They have contacted the student in question and have determined to rectify their residential accessibility allocation policy…at some point. But, ask the student how ‘flourishy’ she feels right now. Go on. What are the chances that she’ll be inclined to subject herself to more of the same at a postgraduate level? How can she be expected to ‘bloom’ when her environment is not nurtured? The absence of practical inclusion strategies – for example, having access to more than one appropriately equipped residential room – means that in this case, some of the best ideas, the best thinkers, have very little chance of competing or rising to the top in this supposed ‘meritocracy’ of science. She is playing the same game as her cohort, but in Battle Royale mode. Until diversity initiatives come hand-in-hand with institutional practical inclusion strategies, ‘valuing diversity’ is nothing more than politically correct point-scoring.
Budget Night is one of those weird Canberra spectacles. Journalists emerge from the lock up, where they have been held for six hours, cut off from the internet and holed up with the Budget papers. And then the treasurer appears at the despatch box, tasked with making the government sound wonderful.
Last week, there was certainly a need to sound wonderful. An election is due in the next 12 months. As the clearest statement of a government’s intent, the Budget sets up a lot of the premise for the upcoming campaign.
Gone are the days of Tony Abbott’s and Joe Hockey’s Budget emergency. The debt and deficit disaster is history now. The only emergency that matters is the one in the opinion polls.
And what do you do when you are faced with electoral defeat? Cue up some personal income tax cuts, spread so far out over the forward estimates – the projection for years after the present budget – as to be basically meaningless. Just make sure there is something small to kick in from July.
In the lead up, the government was touting their “Boomer friendly” Budget. At least they know their base. What they should have said was bland.
But not bland in the “it doesn’t really matter way”. Bland in the sense of being completely devoid of vision or character.
If you believe the government, the economy is in great shape, jobs are being created and next year treasurer Scott Morrison will deliver a slender surplus.
Why, then, should we accept a cut to the ABC of $83.7 million over four years? The government wants to freeze the national broadcaster’s funding over forward estimates and subject it to another efficiency review. It will be the 10th review in 15 years.
Morrison says the ABC has to “live within its means”. (He also revealed himself to be a fan of Shaun Micallef’s Mad As Hell, hoping that it would survive Aunty’s funding cut.)
Cutting ABC funding is a pretty clear statement that a government has no regard for the intelligence and education of Australians. It sends a loud and clear signal that the government doesn’t see the importance of Australians telling Australian stories, of grappling with our national identity in intelligent, accessible forums.
The ABC’s managing director, Michelle Guthrie, told ABC staff after the announcement: “In the coming year Australians will head to the polls for the federal election. More than 80 per cent of Australians value the ABC – a point that shouldn’t be lost on anyone seeking government.”
SBS will have funding returned after the government couldn’t legislate to allow it to accept more advertising. It isn’t a real increase.
But it’s not just the ABC facing cuts.
Since coming to power, the Coalition has cut more than $50 million out of the Screen Australia budget. Now, the government is putting $3 million towards the “development of Australian film and television content.”
The government has also announced a $140 million fund to encourage big Hollywood productions to film in Australia. It’s good for local workers and tourism, they say.
It smacks of cultural cringe, investing in others to make Hollywood blockbusters rather than investing properly in Australian film.
National institutions will also face cuts. While the National Gallery is getting some money to help with refurbishments, the National Archives and the National Library will lose 10 and 12 staff respectively.
Making all of this worse is the $48.7 million over a four years earmarked for the commemoration of the 250th anniversary of James Cook’s first voyage to Australia. As the debate whether we should change the date of Australia Day has reached the mainstream, this decision shows a government not interested in any kind of reckoning about our country’s past.
Cuts to the arts and libraries and the ABC might seem like prudent budget measures, victimless crimes with no real effect, but they are not only detrimental to the cultural life of the country, they reveal what kind of vision the government has for us: a vision of a blank face being crushed by the boot of parochialism forever.
When I covered the Budget in 2016, I wrote in the Herald that, “For most young Australians, this Budget is not for us. We don’t benefit. We haven’t been offered our election pitch.” I could write the same again, and note once more the lack of action on housing affordability or climate change.
It is good that there will be more places at universities for regional students and that access to Youth Allowance will be made easier for them, but it’s hardly a consolation in an environment which has prioritised cynical survival-instinct politics over the kind of long-term thinking students and young people need.
It’s a shame for students that the Budget isn’t required to include tables of opportunity costs. It would cast very different shadows over what kind of Budget a government can get away with presenting.
Over the next 20 years, the cost to the Budget from lower income tax receipts as a result of fewer students going to university will be between $2.2 billion and $3.9 billion, modelling commissioned by Universities Australia claimed.
The Cadence Economics report found that the total economic impact of the higher education sector funding freeze would be between $6.9 billion and $12.3 billion over the next two decades.
Belinda Robinson, Universities Australia chief executive, told The Guardian: “It’s a simple equation – less university funding means fewer skilled graduates, a hit to labour market productivity and less tax revenue for government.”
But to see that, you’ve got to look beyond the ballot box at the next election and the Budget bottom line next May.
And at the moment, the Turnbull government doesn’t have the right vantage point.
Jasper Lindell is Woroni’s political columnist and a former news editor
Comments Off on FUCK FUCK FUCK: THE ANU SNOWSPORTS STALL WONT TAKE DAD’S AMEX
Dear ANU,
I normally begin my emails with a note saying that I have CC’d Father into our correspondence, and that all future emails will be monitored for any personal threats or defamatory statements which may form the basis for actionable litigation. However, Papa is currently in Macau on a business trip, and as such will be far too busy to review the entirety of this (sure to be lengthy) email chain.
I hope you can forgive what might be considered the blatant naivety of a first year law student, but I am certain that, in this country, we have a constitutional right to engage in free market economics, no? As such, it’s rather ironic that on ANU’s (supposed) ‘market day’ I was unable to tap-and-go my membership for ANU Snowsports. I wonder if you would have so wantonly denied my attempts at joining if you knew about my family’s private lodge – the Ramsay Centre for Anglo-Saxon Physical Activities.
It doesn’t take a second semester law student to spot the issue of your ANU Snowsports stall refusing to accept valid and legal tender in the form of an AMEX (if you earn less than $200K a year, you might know it as American Express) triple-double Black Diamond express card.
The credit limit on this card is close to $100K for a single transaction. As such, I am very curious as to why they so rudely refused my Father’s hard-earned money.
Might this fall into what we in the pre-legal profession call ‘reverse discrimination’?
I look forward to Father taking you for all you’re worth, you upper-middle income slime. By the way, I didn’t even have to type this email. I got my Tuckwell-mandated Personal Assistant to type it out. Eat shit.
Comments Off on A Budget with Nothing to be Excited About
This is a Budget which is at great pains not be heinously awful. And in that, it succeeds.
In the recent past we’ve seen how a Liberal Budget can be a horror show of dramatic cuts, ideologically motivated maneuvers and blatantly awful policies.
That was then, this is now.
This time around, unlike 2014, we’ve been given something a lot more subtle. There’s more nuance here. But it’s not all rosy and wonderful – it’s a thinly veiled plea for political survival which puts its burden on young people. Malcolm Turnbull needs this Budget to go well if he’s to cling on as prime minister.
This is all fairly academic to students. The Liberals have never been concerned with what students think of their policies – they are seen as voters who will never be won over anyway, so why bother catering to what they think? Never mind that young people are the future.
So a fairly moderate increase to student fees is the firm policy replacement to the alarming plans of the Abbott-era to fully deregulate university fees and the uncertainty which followed when that faltered in the Senate.
Most students will be able to cope with the changes to fee increases. Decreasing the salary threshold to $42,000 to push for payback will sting. Someone earning $42,000 a year takes home about $600 a week after tax, and eating into to this any further by making low-income earners pay back their student loans is unfair.
But the most troubling thing is the rhetoric the federal government uses to talk about higher education.
‘In higher education, we are launching a fairer system, with students asked to pay a bit more for their own education costs. However, taxpayers will continue to subsidise more than half the cost of each and every student’s higher education.
‘A 2.5 per cent efficiency dividend will be applied to universities for the next two years to to ensure taxpayers and students get better value for their investments,’ the treasurer, Scott Morrison, said in his Budget speech.
What nerve.
To portray education as a financial investment, nothing more than a business decision and transaction is deeply worrying. Of course, education is an investment: in the future, in young people. But it should never be reduced to solely economic terms.
Education costs money. Its return is qualitatively more than dollars can ever record on the Budget bottom line.
Student protesters have described the proposals this week as ‘fee deregulation by stealth’. While the current model is not nearly as hideous as full fee deregulation, its motivations come from the same place: a blatant disregard for the transformative and positive power of spending on education.
There is an ideological war being waged on young people. Potential drug testing for youth allowance recipients, increases to university fees, no real action on housing affordability other than measures which economists are already musing will simply push prices further out of our reach. There is scant here, as a young person, to be excited about.
The government ought to be commended on their measures to give regional students a chance to pursue a tertiary education. But there is more to be done. Sadly this Budget lacks the long-term vision that would be required to achieve it.
Once again young people are collateral in the political scheme of a government vying for survival, internally and electorally. This is a Budget more in line with the appearance of Old Malcolm Turnbull: operating from the Centre.
But if Malcolm Turnbull’s prime ministership has taught us anything, it’s that a politician’s appearance has no bearing on how they will actually behave.
Comments Off on How Will the Federal Budget Affect ANU Students?
The Federal Government’s Budget for the coming financial year was made public to the nation last night. Although few students were present in the room to receive it, this budget features multiple changes to policy that will directly affect the lives of Australian students and young people. But how? Is this budget to be feared, reviled or welcomed? We invited four student pundits to tell us what to expect from the changes on our horizon.
Getting Less For More
Robyn Lewis, ANUSA Education Officer 2017
The 2017 – 18 budget is one that seeks to divide and pit parts of society against each other. Those who need government services are being forced to compete with the next generation, homeowners and businesses. With this sort of framing, Scott Morrison has once again demonstrated his commitment to helping big business and those already well off, while leaving average people, not to mention the most vulnerable, behind.
It doesn’t have to be this way. It is the role of government to look after and protect all its citizens, as well as the future of the country. In a wealthy country like Australia, that’s not a lofty aspiration but a very achievable goal … if the government wanted to do so. We could fund healthcare, welfare and education properly. This, however, was far from what the Treasurer announced last night.
So what does this budget mean for university students? Simply that we will be paying more for less. The efficiency dividend is a 2.5 per cent cut that will almost certainly be taken straight out of teaching. This means less staff, and more casualisation with fewer hours paid to those teaching. For students, this means that you’re going to have academics who care less about your subject, are overworked, and who are not paid enough to be able to mark your work in a considered fashion, to respond to your emails or go beyond the lectures to enhance your learning. It also means we are likely to see more courses culled – ANU has already seen deep cuts to music and the humanities, and this budget means more are likely to follow.
The increase in course fees by 7.5 per cent means, if you’re a domestic student, your degree could end up costing up to $75,000. This is a stepping stone to deregulation and will increase the amount you’re paying by thousands of dollars, for a degree with fewer options and worse teaching quality. A Guardian poll this week showed that around half of Australians oppose tuition fees whatsoever, and certainly higher education in other countries is moving increasingly towards lower fees for students. It seems bizarre that policy in Australia is regressing when we could fund universities and invest in the future of the country properly if we simply, I don’t know, made corporations pay proper tax.
So what will you do after you’ve paid more for a degree that has a lower quality? Well, you’re going to have to start paying back your HECS a lot sooner. You will now have to start paying back your debt once you earn $42,000 a year, which goes against the very philosophy of HECS, whether you believe in it or not. HECS debt is intended to allow you only to begin repaying your fees when you have started to gain some of the value of your degree. $42,000 is not far above the minimum wage, meaning graduates will not have realised any of the value of their degree in higher earnings whatsoever, and will be paying off a degree that has not benefitted them in the job market yet.
Ultimately, these measures come on the heels of the Government having to drop the zombie-cuts from 2014 that were never going to pass the Senate, including the flagship fee deregulation measure. Morrison has tried to sell a more palatable package to the Australian public, but this budget is still terrible for students, terrible for young people, and once again, it’s time to fight back.
ANUSA in conjunction with the NUS will be holding a National Day of Action in Union Court at 12.30pm on Wednesday, 17 May.
A Good Budget for Students Begs the Question: At What Point is Fair Unaffordable?
Robert Bower is a member of the Liberal Party
Whilst complaints are inevitable, the Budget handed down last night was good for students, and good for the future of Australia. The government is set to return the budget to surplus: they are on track to ensure that from the 2018 – 19 financial year, all government spending will be funded by government revenue. At the same time, the government has taken steps to ensure that this has not come at a cost of equity, taking measured but achievable steps to act on youth unemployment, housing affordability, health care, and the intergenerational debt bomb. It begs the question, what more can be realistically expected under the current policy settings? This is a good budget for students and young people: the government is securing tax relief for small to medium business, which will free up budgets to invest in new capital and employ staff for more hours. This is matched by increased funding for 300,000 VET and apprenticeship places, which, along with the PaTH program from last year’s Budget, should go a long way to upskilling young people and addressing youth unemployment levels. Medicare funding is to be enshrined in legislation, only to be spent on Medicare and the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS). The eternal question of the NDIS funding has been solved by a modest increase to the Medicare levy. The Future Fund has similarly been legislatively secured from being pillaged for pork barrelling. Attractive super schemes for first home buyers and retirees will make it easier to save for a deposit, and increase housing stock. Infrastructure spending will ensure the benefits of Australia’s economic growth are shared broadly across the country. Yes, university fees will go up. Yet the Cro-Magnon bleatings of the NUS and Labor will not change the fact that the proposed changes are modest. The increase is a small percentage of the overall cost of a degree and comes at no additional up-front cost. If that weren’t enough, the lower repayment threshold is accompanied by a lower repayment rate. Since the uncapping of university places in 2010, universities have seen enrolment skyrocket by as much as 68 per cent. Yet the funding mechanism has stayed the same, meaning education costs to the taxpayer are skyrocketing alongside enrolments. There are finite tax receipts to go around, yet the Left would have us believe that the funding mechanism for university can stay the same with no impact to other services. This is a too-cute line that readers should treat with scepticism. No policy occurs in a vacuum and cries for more funding ignore the reality. As a Liberal supporter, I can say many of us see the reliance on increased taxes to maintain extensive social spending is less than ideal. As the US and the UK are seeking to reduce taxes, Australia is increasing an already high tax burden: should all the budget measures pass, Australia will be taxing the highest and spending the biggest it has in 10 years. At the same time Australian national debt has passed $500 billion for the first time in history. Household debt has reached 180 per cent of household income, leaving the economy highly shock prone. Despite opposition to budget savings across the past four years, by 2064, the debt burden of each Australian tax payer is still projected to be $64,000 per person. Is that fair? Modest pain now to save future generations being in hock to international lending agencies? For those who want more, where do they expect the money to come from? Where does it end? Internationally imposed austerity will be less obliging than Coalition governments.
No Surprises from a Liberal Budget
Katrina Millner, ACT Greens
A $3.8 billion cut to funding for universities is the key take away for students from this budget. The second affront to students comes in the Government’s failure to deal with housing and rent affordability. While there is no funding to target climate change – one of the biggest challenges to young people’s future wellbeing and cost of living – somehow there is still money to fund fracking. The budget announced on Tuesday night presented a rather poor future for students, but are we really surprised?
In a world where the cost of living is already high, and the cost of housing is even higher, the proposed changes to HECS will further burden students’ lives. Although we will not be hit with these costs up front, in the long run we are worse off. Our student debts will be higher and we will be paying them off earlier. The ABC recently published a detailed cost analysis of how these HECS changes will affect us. At an annual income of $42,000, we will be required to begin to repay our HECS debts. Calculating necessary deductions of tax, the Medicare levy and your HECS contribution, we are left with an income of $683 a week. To many students, this may still seem like a more than adequate income – but it quickly dwindles when the needs to pay rent, save for a house, and support a partner or young family are taken into consideration.
Furthermore, the Government’s so-called solution to housing affordability is a joke. Their plan is to allow people to save money through their superannuation funds, therefore lessening tax on those savings. While this is a welcome measure to help students save for a deposit, it goes no way to targeting the problem. Once again the Liberal government has refused to target negative gearing and capital gains taxes, and ignores the impact they have on housing and rent affordability in Australia. The cost of studying and renting is already high, and last night’s budget didn’t provide much to help with that.
Education is the key to a successful workforce and is fundamental in breaking cycles of poverty. That is why education is a right, not a privilege. We should be making it cheaper to access, and more affordable to survive whilst you are accessing it. The Government has again failed to recognise the need to support everyone who wishes to further their skills. We cannot leave students behind because of so-called crisis budget deficits, or accept high costs with no returns. Education is the future of the country, and unless we wish to fall behind, we have to make tertiary studies accessible to all. However, last night was an example of Liberals balancing their budget on the backs of students.
Climate change is another topic high on many young people’s priorities, given its devastating potential to alter our futures. But who needs to fund that anyway? It didn’t even rate a mention in this Budget, though given our sitting Liberal government that isn’t shocking. We all want a future we can live in, and that’s not what was given to us in this year’s Budget.
In a society where it is getting more and more expensive for students to survive, this Budget doesn’t give us high hopes, but I’m not surprised.
Stand up, Fight Back
Freya Willis, ANU Labor Left
Another year, another set of cuts to the higher education sector. This has become the new normal under the Liberal government. Under this year’s Budget, students will be paying more back, sooner and for less.
The HECS debt repayment threshold has been lowered to $42,000. That is nearly half of the median household income and only $8,000 more than the annual salary of someone working on the minimum wage. The student contribution is planned to increase by, on average, $3,600.
There is a clear message being sent here: The Liberals do not value education. They are increasingly pushing the cost of university back onto students. These changes to the HECS system form a slippery slope. How poor is too poor to have to pay back your HECS debt? Continual cuts – no matter how small the government claims they are – places more financial stress on lower earning graduates, and discourages students from pursuing tertiary education in the first place.
This policy is extremely short-sighted. It ignores the fact that the higher education, and a skilled and educated workforce, is the key to growing the economy, to innovation and to productivity.
This attack on students cannot be looked at in isolation either. It comes on the back of cuts to penalty rates, as well as systemic problems with Centrelink and fake debt notices. All of which make it harder for students to pay their way through university and cause massive financial stress.
And while students are paying more, the government are paying less.
They have proposed a two – three per cent ‘efficiency dividend’, let’s cut the bullshit – an efficiency divided is another word for a funding cut. What is unclear, however, is where exactly these ‘efficiency’ savings can be made. Is it by transferring more teaching online? It is by cutting student services? Is it by cutting courses like we have already seen happen in ANU’s School of Culture, History and Language? Is it moving to the trimester system, a change which has already occurred at many other Universities?
The government’s justification for this is that, via a combination of fees and government funding, universities already have enough money to cover the cost of teaching for most degrees, plus a little bit extra. But if university funding only covers operational costs, then innovation stagnates, student services can’t grow their capacity as student numbers increase, class sizes continue to get larger and infrastructure redevelopment is limited. The quality of our universities, and their global competitiveness, is compromised.
Next, they tell us that this is just a temporary measure, a necessary evil while the budget is pinched. Interestingly, the Liberals seem to have found room in the budget for a $50bn corporate tax cut. They seem to have found room to repeal the deficit levy, giving more money back to those who earn over $180,000 per annum.
So yes, the Budget is tight. But only if you are a student.