Showing posts with label cost. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cost. Show all posts

Thursday, May 21, 2009

The Higher Ed Buffet

An enthymeme implicit in any solution to the hard assessment problem is that education is a commodity. That is, if we could truly pin a meaningful number on the value-added (or even absolute accomplishment) of graduates from respective institutions of higher learning, and could rank colleges and universities in a scientific way, then we have abstracted all most every distinguishing detail away from the college experience. Students are uniform raw materials for the industrial maw of enlightenment, and the output comprises finely packaged standardized brains, weighed and bar-coded and packed in bubble-wrap, ready for shipping. Employers and graduate schools could simply mail-order their inputs from Graduate.com, and an efficient market would quickly find price equilibrium.

This belief in wholesale data compression of the multitude of products delivered by any college into a single number is a staggering arrogance that ignores what Susan Jacoby calls "[T]he unquantifiable and more genuine learning whose importance within a society cannot be measured by test scores and can only be mourned in its absence." (The Age of American Unreason, pg. 149)

It's truly hard to imagine that people actually believe this absolute data reduction is possible, but it's at the heart of attempts like the CLA to compare "residual" differences in learning outcomes across institutions, and is evinced in comments like the one I quoted from "Steve" last time from InsideHigherEd:
20 years from now: Consumer Reports will be assessing the quality of BA degrees, right along side washing machines and flying-mobiles. Parents will ask, "why should we pay 3 times the cost when Consumer Reports says that there is only a 2% increase in quality?!"
Here, a second assumption compounds the first, viz, that college ratings easily translate into worth in dollars. I scratch my head over this sort of thing, which also came out of the Spellings Commission. If what we really care about is dollars, then why not just focus on salary histories of graduates? The US government already publishes volumes of reports on such things a average salary of an engineering graduate. Why not add one more dimension, so that the school issuing the diploma can be identified?

One valid reason why the learning = cost equation doesn't work is articulated by an anonymous commenter to today's article on the future of higher ed costs in InsideHigherEd:
Wealthy institutions, such as the small elite liberal arts colleges which charge over $50,000 in comprehensive fees, and private elite universities know that keeping prices high is the surest way to attract the wealthiest customers who will also become future donors. This is allays the motivating factor at my institution, where the president is always public about staying among the elite by charging high tuition and by regularly raising tuition above 6%. "we have to remain at the mean of our peers" is the justification.
I remember exactly this kind of conversation with institutional researchers at a round table discussion a couple of years ago. One elite college was raising rates dramatically year after year to "catch up" to the competition. Is it worth it? Is the Harvard experience worth more because of the contacts you will make? You bet it is. How is that going to be measured with a standardized rating system?

This suggests a kind of Red Queen Race among top institutions, fighting for the best students of the top socio-economic strata. I've argued before that many more institutions in addition to the top tier are affected by this treadmill, and those who suffer the most are highly talented, highly motivated students who don't have the right credentials to get admitted into the club, or get admitted but with insufficient aid. That is a real market inefficiency that can be partially addressed with non-cognitive assessments.

A few weeks back I found myself down town looking for a take-out lunch. I was in a hurry, and the lunch crowd had descended, creating long lines at the sort of place I'd normally eat at. I finally found one place with no lines. It quickly became apparent why that was the case--the cheapest thing on the menu was $17, for some vegetarian "delight" sort of thing. The place was plush, quiet, and refined. Maybe the few patrons were there because of the food, but it seems to me that they were paying for exclusivity as well--no bustling hoi palloi to disturb their cogitations on credit swap derivatives (this was in the banking district). Maybe this is a good place to meet future clients.

Hard assessment sees a college as a factory. Instead, I think the comparison to a restaurant is more appropriate. To see this, imagine applying hard assessment to all of the eating establishments in your locale. The product of this exercise would be a listing of all the eateries with a number denoting the value-added of each. Note that this is not a score from the health department certifying that the kitchen is clean--that's all low complexity stuff. No, our hard assessment must take into account the rich experience of dining, and produce a single number that indicates with scientific precision the performance of the establishment. If you want to take it a step further, you can add the assumption that this metric must be comparable to dollars in some way, so that higher ranked restaurants can charge higher prices.

You can have fun with this analogy: the catalog of programs as a menu, the demographic served as the clientele, institutional aid = coupon clipped discounts, professors prepare the culinary products, and so forth. No analogy is perfect, but the advantage is that most of us have direct experience with a small number of colleges or universities, but with a large number of restaurants. If anything, it ought to be easier to do hard assessments of restaurants than it is colleges. (Please note, I'm not talking about "one-to-five stars" type assessments prepared by city guides. They make no pretentions to be scientific.)

In order to build our assessment, we'd have to start worrying about what are the most important outcomes of the dining experience. Is it customer satisfaction? Or rather the health benefits of the food? Or perhaps the ratio of calories to dollars spent? Then we must tackle the problem of how to average across what are really qualitative differences. How do we compare a fish-lover's opinion of the tuna and ginger plate with the customer who just discovered she's allergic to ginger, and had it sent back in favor of a hamburger? How much can we rely on self-reported ratings by customers? Do we take into account the kind of customer who normally eats there, or do we try to randomly sample the population? If the final assessment is to be a single number rating for the restaurant, how do we weight each of these components? (If the answer to that is "we'll use factor analysis," then how do we subjectively decide what the primary dimension actually means?)

If this seems like a task that is impossible to do while keeping a straight face, it is. We will quickly abandon science and have to make subjective decisions about the design of the grand assessment in order to come up with anything at all. I encourage you to actually try this thought experiment, using the eateries you frequent as your raw material. Remember that the the numbers you assign have to be meaningful to other people, not just yourself; solipsistic assessments aren't publishable in Consumer Reports. As a final requirement, assuming your ratings are taken seriously--now you have to figure out how to keep restaurants from "gaming" your rating system to artificially increase their scores. Good luck.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

The Price of Philosophy

Education is a funny business. Despite all the efforts made in assessing learning outcomes, it may well be that the net effect of educational experiences is not realized until much later in a person's life. Some things that we think are important may actually have little or no effect. This is especially true when considering the more philosophical aspects of higher education. Yesterday I mused about the value of a liberal education. It's an easy target for the practical-minded cost trimmer because the results are presumably not truly felt until years after the experience. And yet the budget executives have to be dealt with, especially in these lean times. They may even be right some of the time.

I've sat in a lot of budget meetings with both administrators and faculty, and an inevitable collision is that between greenbacks and philosophy. At these moments I usually make a mental note: We may not know the worth of philosophical goals, but we can often evaluate the cost. In lean times this skews the decision against philosophy and toward saving money. In fat times, the opposite is true. Some examples will help understand what I mean.

How many books is enough in the library? Is a cataloger in Sanskrit necessary and contributing toward educational outcomes? What about restrictive policies for course transfers, under the theory that courses at other institutions aren't as good as your own? This costs the institution enrollment with nebulous effect on students who do come. Whole departments like foreign languages get their raison d'etre questioned as well.

Like Pythagoras's philosophy of not eating beans, the items in the list above have economic impact (the great philosopher and mathematician is supposed to have died rather than escape his enemies through a bean field). Evaluating the actual worth relative to the cost is not something that can usually be done scientifically--this is where leadership is required. But it helps in these discussions to have the sensitivity to know when the discussion has wandered into philosophical territory.

Occasionally, hard data can come to the rescue, but this is probably an exception. One IR director related to me that the faculty at his institution were unhappy about accepting AP courses instead of their own prerequisite classes. They were on the verge of setting a new policy to ban AP course credit, which would have had a negative impact on admissions. He did some research and found that AP students actually did better in the subsequent classes than home grown ones (it could be that they were better students, of course). This proved to be the case in all instances except one subject area. When they investigated further, they discovered that the AP course content did not match that of the prerequisite course very well. I like this story because it shows what IR can do when the evidence is there. The harder decisions are unfortunately more common: placing a value on Sanskrit cataloging, for example.

More poetically, one might say
अमंत्रमक्षरं नास्ति नास्ति मूलमनौषधम्‌।
अयोग्यः पुरुषो नास्ति योजकस्तत्र दुर्लभः॥
[source and translation]

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Gloom and Doom for Traditional Universities?

There's an interesting article at WebWire that I found linked to U. Bus. predicting the end of the traditional model of universities. This is predicated on the existence of disruptive technologies, that the higher ed industry is mature and incapable of much innovation, and that it is currently overpriced. The following quote attributed to Peter Druckeris is cited from Forbes:
Thirty years from now the big university campuses will be relics. Universities won’t survive. It’s [Internet technology] as large a change as when we first got the printed book…The cost of education has risen as fast as the cost of health care…Such totally uncontrollable expenditures, without any visible improvement in either the content or quality of education, means that the system is rapidly becoming untenable. Higher education is in deep crisis.
As an example of things to come, the author gives us Andrew Jackson University's 'sponsored tuition' program. It's a fascinating idea--pay for the marginal cost of instruction for those students through commercial sponsorship. Here's a quote from AJU President Don Kassner, taken from Wikipedia:
Most universities spend a tremendous amount of money to recruit students. Many spend as much as thirty-five percent of their revenue on marketing and advertising. They have to keep their tuition high to recover these costs. We eliminated these costs by structuring relationships with strategic partners that refer potential students to us. Therefore, we can operate a quality, degree granting institution without the escalating tuition and excessive fees deemed necessary by many schools.
That's a glimpse of the disruptive technologies part. What about inflexibility of the current system?

Anyone who's ever served on a committee will not find it hard to believe that higher education as an industry is not going to change overnight. A study from The National Center for Public Policy and Higher Education and Public Agenda called The Iron Triangle (pdf), which seeks to illuminate the gearworks of change in higher education. The authors quickly get to a central problem: "The various stakeholders must agree on the definition of the problem." Moreover, principles (according to the article) are locked into a mentality of thinking of cost, access, and quality as forming what mathematicians would call a partition--improving one variable necessarily has adverse effects for the other two. It's a zero-sum game, in other words. The stakeholders do not necessarily hold the same view--the industry is seen as bloated an unresponsive. Within the report are found comments by presidents on the subject of cost, access, and quality. These are very interesting and highly recommended for reading in detail.

Not all presidents bought the premis of the iron triangle. Here's a quote from one president, which resonates in light of current events in the auto industry:
Years ago I heard a speaker from the auto industry who asked, ‘What
happened to the auto industry in the 1970s? It wasn’t bad design. It wasn’t
planned obsolescence. It wasn’t unions. Fundamentally, it was hubris. It was
a belief that the American automobile industry had always built the best
vehicles, always would, and that the public would buy whatever we built.
We saw our problem not as a product problem, but as a marketing problem.
Maybe. I think it's a little more complicated than that. Here's one idea to consider.

What if the market for the best students has become more liquid, driving up their price? That would mean that for the same cohort of talented students, universities generate less revenue from them because they're bidding against each other. Who makes up the short-fall? Costs can get pushed down to the need-based crowd, which is what's been happening (see practically any issue of Opportunity for such an argument). This has been enabled by cheap money. So the combination of aid leveraging for talent and easy money could be part of the answer. It would be very interesting to see the financial aid matrices for various institutions over the last ten years, to see how they've evolved.