I’m trying to imagine my graduation. I won’t be there, but I can picture the line of unfamiliar faces, a smattering of friends and casual acquaintances. Each person is carrying their own jumbled collection of experiences in identical UNSW branded baskets. Up ahead a cashier in dignified robes checks our payment has gone through and, failing to even glance in the basket, hands over the receipt. There it goes, did you catch it? The whole point.
My purpose here, with this tortured metaphor, is to make a roundabout case that university should be free. There are many better arguments for this but having finished a bachelor’s degree at the University of New South Wales (a university which seems to be eating itself) this is the one I am well positioned to make. A degree has to be more than a product you buy. As attending university is increasingly seen through the logic of self-investment rather than education, its value is disappearing even as its price increases.
What do I mean by a ‘logic of self-investment’? Most of us have a sense, more or less vague, of the changes to Australia’s university system since the 1980’s. Reduced public funding, increasingly casualised staff, the introduction of fees. More recently the reliance on ‘exporting’ education to international students who, in 2020 particularly, receive extremely poor treatment at the hands of both governments and universities.
We might call these changes ‘neoliberalization’ with all its concomitant disagreement. But this change is not constrained to the structural and policy level. Increasingly, corporate management and the changing position of university education in the public psyche has transformed the ‘student’ from a participant or stakeholder to a customer.
Neoliberalisation, the definition of which I was taught four separate times, is as much a grass roots, subjective change as a structural one. The idea that an education is an ‘investment in social capital’ is deeply ingrained in what it is to be a student. This has ramifications for both the education we receive and the social fabric of universities. I reflect often on these changes as experienced by myself and those around me. Trying to explain the distinct feeling that university never really lived up to its promise.
If, like me, you study a vaguely ‘arts’ subject, the incessant phrase “and what are you going to do with that?” probably makes you equal parts annoyed and panicked. At one point I simply decided I was no longer going to answer. It’s not that I don’t ever want to be employed (god do I want that). Rather, it’s the way this question poses the choice of degree as the single important act, skipping three or four years of a student’s life, to connect a means to an end. This attitude is pervasive, from the adage that “Ps get degrees” to the Morrison government’s use of misleading job figures to justify hiking up the price of studying arts and humanities.
This wasn’t always the case. Starting in the 1970’s at the peak of government support for universities, students and teachers in the University of Sydney campaigned to secure a political economy course and ultimately a separate department. Successive generations of students cared enough about the content of their studies to actively challenge the programs they had chosen. Students and teachers understood their relationship as the collaborative production, rather than simply transferral, of knowledge. I personally have a hard time imagining something like that happening today. If all we have is the freedom of choice, we have no grounds to demand better – you should have chosen better.
We can also see in this the changed social dynamic of our Degree Mart. Despite the myriad of societies and groups, the steep campus at the University of New South Wales can be a profoundly lonely place. The social dynamic seems to have become limited to niche interest, resume building or colleges. I am sure some cohorts are closer than mine was, but equally I know many people who left university with few lasting relationships from their actual studies. I can’t help but see in this the single-minded pursuit of the end result, where classes and assessments become obstacles beyond which students’ interest rarely survives.
The other relationship stunted by this transactional mode of education is with our teachers. While lecturers speak wistfully of beers shared back in the day, the reality is that teacher-student interactions are increasingly distant and formalised. Almost every year at UNSW the procedures for attendance and special considerations become more constrained. Studying in Germany, I was shocked when lecturers asked how long we felt we needed for our essays; the one condition being that we came and talked through our ideas in person.
At the same time as teaching staff lose their discretion, marking appears to be losing almost all meaning. This may be unique to social sciences, but the essays I and my fellow students wrote came to seem totally decoupled from the marks we received. Feedback is rare and honestly, I would not blame most of my lecturers if they actually didn’t read our submissions given how overworked they are. At the same time as we cannot be trusted to work in good faith, we don’t seem to be trusted to pass. This is a formal integrity in which learning is marginal while ‘degree progression’ is sacrosanct.
I don’t mean to say I regret my purchase. Four years of university have radically changed my world view and the fundamental way I think, as it has for so many others. But it’s worth being honest about our disappointments. There is a wide world of arguments out there about the accessibility, independence and social responsibility of these institutions but collectively we have to be able to say what the value of education is. If our answer is simply the market price and return on investment it will cost us dearly.
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 The Fifty-Two Books I Didn’t Read This Year
There is a ubiquitous saying amongst writers: show don’t tell. Instead of telling you that Tony Abbott is a little bit odd, I should instead show you his lips, palpating and quivering over the skin of a fresh raw onion; I should describe the sound, as his teeth crack through the layers of nested cellulose, and I should describe the smell, warm and pungent, of his halitosis-encrusted breath drifting through the air.
When it comes to mental health, things are a bit different. I can tell you about depression, but I don’t know if I can show you depression. I can’t put you inside my head and give you the tour. I can’t transmit my feelings to you via radio waves. I can’t take your hand and make you pat the twelve-legged Lovecraftian insect that has hatched somewhere in the back of my skull, feeding me feelings of hopelessness instead of a stream of consciousness. My best hope lies in trying to describe my experience, and in hoping, somewhat morbidly, that I’m talking to someone who has been in the trenches before too.
But perhaps there is one way of showing-not-telling depression. Before I graduated, I used to make a point of reading fifty-two books a year. I didn’t always read that many, but I’d start the year with a list in mind. That way, even if I got distracted by, say, cat videos, I might get through twenty or thirty of them by the time Christmas came around. I could choose the books I was most excited about reading and finish them first. I could change the list or I could throw it away completely and just improvise. I could read miniscule books or I could read mammoth books. I could read textbooks and comic books and everything between.
The thing is, I don’t read much anymore. Imagine the things you love most in life, and then imagine that you suddenly didn’t love them anymore. That is one small part of what it was like for me to develop depression. For a lot of people you don’t need to imagine this at all – you’ve gone through this exact thing before. Maybe in your case it wasn’t reading but something else altogether, like underwater basket weaving or extreme whack-a-mole.
Perhaps it’s futile to try and pinpoint a cause, but I’d still like to try. For me, the trigger was graduation. Afters months of anticipation and grades and fancy robes, I suddenly found myself feeling more empty than I ever had in my entire life. It wasn’t just feeling down. It was waking up in the middle of the night, covered in a blistering sheet of existential dread. It was listening to the same deformed internal monologue five-hundred times a day, thirty days a month. It was seeing all my friends succeed, and feeling like meanwhile I wasn’t worth two cents.
I didn’t realise until months later that I’d been slowly developing depression. Looking back, it’s easy to make sense of what was going on. But at the time it was hard to step out of my own head. It was hard to defuse my thoughts and to say that just because I’m thinking this awful thing, doesn’t make it true.
I know a large handful of people who’ve gone through the same thing after graduation. It’s more common than you might think. I’m starting to think we should have a name for it – maybe gradupression, or depraduation. If leaving university was the best thing that ever happened to you, then I’m glad, and I hope the upwards spiral continues. But for a lot of people, leaving university just isn’t like this. For a lot of people, graduating means finding yourself stuck at the start of a long hard road, and needing a helping hand.
I’m a lot better than I was, now. A big first step was naming the Lovecraftian insect for what it was. Another step was reaching out, and another step was medication. But then again, I’m still unwell. I still don’t read much. Not every problem gets fixed, and if it does get fixed, it certainly doesn’t get fixed overnight. Sometimes it gets fixed a lot, and sometimes it gets fixed only a little.
I don’t mean to say that all this has been a waste of time. I’ve learned things about myself that I could never have learned while still at uni. I’ve learned to grow new interests, even if my old ones die out. I’ve learned how to ask for help. I’ve learned to stop believing, at least in my case, in the myth of the depressed creative – that depression is somehow a source of great inspiration and motivation, and that it should be relied upon in order to achieve great things. In my case, the exact opposite was true. I used to be productive, and then I became depressed, and I was no longer productive. The arrow did not go the other way around.
Perhaps, in the end, I am just stating the obvious. That the experience of graduating is not too dissimilar from finishing a book. Perhaps, for you, it has been a wonderful book, a terrifying book, or the most boring book you ever read. Perhaps the book often made you cry. Perhaps the book was a waste of money, and didn’t teach you anything. Perhaps you finished it quickly, or perhaps you finished it after resting it on the shelf for many years.
Now you face, inevitably, the feelings that come afterwards. For some it will be relief, knowing that you have permission to move on. For some it will be melancholy, knowing that you’ll never be a part of a story that good again. For some it will be devastation, knowing that you step now into a deep dark forest, of which you can only tell, but never show. Whichever it is, you should be proud that you read a book.
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.
As the silver poplars spread fluff all over campus, it’s time again to study for exams and begin reflecting on the year. For me, this time is different, as next year is not just another repeat of the various undergraduate courses one can take to form a degree. A recipient of this week’s invitation to graduate, I have joined the ranks of undergrads only weeks away from finishing what my parents described to me as ‘the most enjoyable period of my life’.
While I wonder about the many significant periods of life that I would expect my parents to rank as the most enjoyable (their relationship, my birth, possibly my brother’s birth), I understand the point they were trying to convey. Unless you have come out of ANU with a Chancellor’s Medal, your undergrad is probably the most momentous yet least serious period of your life. It is an amalgamation of novel life experiences in a short period of time, rivalled by few other stages in your life. Living away from home for the first time, beginning adult friendships, starting (and ending) long-term relationships, finding lifelong passions, and finally getting a full-time job (for those so lucky) are all compacted into a 3 to 5 year period.
And whilst these experiences come thick and fast, it doesn’t seem as if there is a corresponding weight to them. They are continuously interspersed with the ridiculous aspects of student life. Why save going out for the weekend when you can have it two days earlier on a Thursday? Why wake up at 6 am when you can rise late and sleep even later? Why live in an abode suiting of your upbringing when you can live as three men, one Corroborree?
The relative inconsequentiality of my student life has left me in an awkward position. Graduation has been the final stop to the degree that I never thought would end. They say that numerous Olympic gold medallists find themselves on the podium only to settle into a depression as they realise the finality of their position. I am neither an Olympian nor about to settle into a depression, but graduating feels as if I am attempting to square the circle of a seemingly never-ending university experience.
There are some things about graduating now that I appreciate. Never one for theatrics, I’m glad that the American-style mass graduations have been halted for the time being. I’ll take my degree in the mail and celebrate how I deem fit. Further, ANU feels like a sinking ship with multiple programs being scrapped and valuable long-term employees being made redundant. As one of the lucky current students who has only had to spend one year learning in his bedroom, I can look back at the golden era of in-person tutorials and workshops.
Adieu, ANU.
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.
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.