tag:theconversation.com,2011:/au/topics/south-african-universities-16625/articlesSouth African universities – The Conversation2024-02-26T13:29:57Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2239832024-02-26T13:29:57Z2024-02-26T13:29:57ZSouth Africa’s apartheid legacy is still hobbling research – a study of geography shows how<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/576988/original/file-20240221-30-sh4e18.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Inequalities persist in the field of academic human geography.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">erhui1979</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Knowledge matters. It informs how we think about the world around us. It informs our decisions and government policies, supporting economic growth and development. </p>
<p>Knowledge is also power. Certain types of knowledge <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/01436597.2020.1775487">are given more value than others</a>. This is driven by histories of privilege. In South Africa, apartheid looms large <a href="https://www.nb.co.za/en/view-book?id=9780624088547">in debates</a> about how knowledge is produced. Though it formally ended 30 years ago, it still influences whose knowledge is considered “right” and whose is sidelined.</p>
<p>And this matters in everyday lives. For instance, health and medical research and instruction used to focus on white and male bodies. This has <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-022-03325-z#:%7E:text=Throughout%20history%2C%20racism%20and%20biases,Disease%20itself%2C%20has%20been%20racialised">directly affected</a> the provision and quality of healthcare. </p>
<p>Crucially, control over the production of knowledge provides political, economic and social power. This has real effects on education, healthcare, social policy and service delivery. </p>
<p>In a recent research paper we <a href="https://rgs-ibg.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/tran.12640">studied</a> how apartheid legacies continue to affect the work of universities in South Africa. In particular we looked at the outputs of the discipline of <a href="https://geographical.co.uk/science-environment/geo-explainer-what-is-human-geography">human geography</a>, which is our specialisation. It’s the study of how space and time influence economic, social, political and cultural actions. </p>
<p>We found that universities that were historically more advantaged – that is, they served mostly white students – continue to outpace the country’s other institutions in terms of research output. This was true for quantity and quality of publication outputs in journal articles and academic books and chapters. </p>
<p>Our findings show that apartheid’s legacy continues to affect academic output. This suggests that not enough has been done to address inequalities around funding, networking and opportunities for international collaboration. It means that South Africa’s academic landscape continues to reflect the views of a privileged few.</p>
<p>We examined what drove these disparities, and identified strategies to begin shifting the dial.</p>
<h2>Historical background</h2>
<p>The history of South African human geography as a discipline is inextricably linked with colonialism. It was heavily influenced by conservative religious ideas and <a href="https://www.taylorfrancis.com/chapters/edit/10.4324/9781315600635-3/social-change-re-radicalization-geography-south-africa-brij-maharaj-maano-ramutsindela">notions of racial superiority</a>. And <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/03736245.2016.1220545">during the apartheid era</a> topics were deliberately studied with a notional “non-political” focus, or research was used to support apartheid legislation.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/colonial-legacies-shape-urban-nature-why-this-should-change-156334">Colonial legacies shape urban nature: why this should change</a>
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<p>In the 1970s some research began to emerge about how apartheid policies affected Black communities. This was a first. Research had largely <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/030913258100500201">toed the apartheid government’s line</a> and not focused on the deleterious effects of segregation and oppression. </p>
<p>But, overall, universities either served white or “non-white” students. White universities were well-resourced while others were not.</p>
<p>After 1994, South Africa’s human geographers turned to policy-relevant work as the country embarked on building a democracy. They began to support post-apartheid priorities related to the economy, <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/0376835042000325697">small business</a> and spatial development.</p>
<h2>The same dominant hierarchies</h2>
<p>The transition from apartheid led to the opening of South African universities. The racial make-up of institutions began to change. And South African academics began re-engaging with global academia after isolationist apartheid policies were lifted and international boycotts ended.</p>
<p>However, clear resourcing differences and hierarchies remain between <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.52779/9781990995057/04">(historically) advantaged and disadvantaged institutions</a>. Consequently, the discipline remains dominated by a handful of departments. Their dominance is maintained by income generation (student fees, publication income, grants), networks – and prestige. </p>
<p>Our research shows that academics from historically disadvantaged institutions feel removed from these global and national networks.</p>
<p>We found a significant concentration of research outputs among a few (historically) advantaged institutions. This allows them to generate research income and mobilise international collaborations to fund larger projects. That allows academics to take on lighter teaching loads. And that gives them more time to conduct and publish research. </p>
<p>International collaborators are drawn by these institutions’ reputations, histories and resources. It’s easier for academics to visit international universities and participate in international funding applications. Such institutions are also able to support young human geography academics and encourage greater publication outputs in ways that under-resourced and small departments struggle to match.</p>
<p>Human geographers at historically advantaged universities have mobilised international networks to appoint overseas academics to honorary positions. These moves boost the institutions’ publication outputs – and their income from <a href="https://www.dhet.gov.za/SitePages/University%20Research%20Support%20and%20Policy%20Development.aspx">government subsidies and incentives</a>.</p>
<p>As one interviewee described it, the cycle of opportunity and prestige for historically advantaged institutions leaves</p>
<blockquote>
<p>historically Black institutions always on the back foot … the playing ground is not levelled.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>The way forward</h2>
<p>These challenges could be addressed in several ways. One approach might be for more resourced universities to support historically disadvantaged institutions in developing contacts, networks and strategic policies to attract and appoint visiting research fellows. This would open up opportunities for funding. That, ultimately, will lead to more research and knowledge being produced.</p>
<p>Many of our interviewees said that more collaboration was needed between historically advantaged and historically disadvantaged institutions. This should be encouraged. Human geographers from historically disadvantaged universities must be consulted about what kinds of support they need, rather than ideas being imposed by those from well-resourced institutions.</p>
<p>Other priorities could include stronger mentoring for early- and mid-career staff. Training is crucial, too, to develop skills in journal and grant writing. Even something as simple as institutions updating online staff profiles would be valuable. This helps to promote individuals’ research interests. It also supports network building and collaborations. </p>
<p>Perhaps, most of all, there’s a need – as one interviewee told us – to push for difficult conversations about inequalities and shortcomings to “shed light on what is missing”.</p>
<p>Ultimately, commitment is required to realise a more ethical South African human geography. The government, universities, and individual academics all have a role to play in fostering inclusion and collaboration that work beyond historical inequalities. This will help to make the sub-discipline more robust and cutting edge. And that’s ultimately beneficial to academics, students and the country at large.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/223983/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The cycle of opportunity and prestige for historically advantaged institutions leaves historically Black institutions on the back foot.Gijsbert Hoogendoorn, Professor in Tourism Geography, University of JohannesburgDaniel Hammett, Senior Lecturer in Political and Development Geography, University of SheffieldMukovhe Masutha, Senior Research Fellow, University of JohannesburgLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2075242023-07-04T11:23:29Z2023-07-04T11:23:29ZSouth African universities must do more to tackle staffs’ race and gender imbalances<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/533992/original/file-20230626-17-5n5iwn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">There are more black African academic staff at South African universities than before.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">PeopleImages/Getty Images</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>At the advent of South Africa’s democracy in 1994, an <a href="https://www.ru.ac.za/media/rhodesuniversity/content/vc/documents/The_Challenges_of_Transformation_in_Higher_Eduaction_and_Training_Institutions_in_South_Africa.pdf#page=23">overwhelming majority of academics</a> in the country’s public higher education institutions were white men. Black South Africans (a group consisting of those designated as Indian, Coloured or African <a href="https://www.apartheidmuseum.org/exhibitions/race-classification#:%7E:text=Racial%20classification%20was%20the%20foundation,either%20white%20or%20non%2Dwhite">under apartheid</a>) constituted 89% of the overall population. But they made up <a href="https://www.ru.ac.za/media/rhodesuniversity/content/vc/documents/The_Challenges_of_Transformation_in_Higher_Eduaction_and_Training_Institutions_in_South_Africa.pdf#page=23">just 17%</a> of the academic workforce.</p>
<p>The situation was similar for non-academic employees like managers, administrators, and service and technical staff.</p>
<p>The higher education sector, like everything else in South Africa, needed to change to reflect the non-racial, non-sexist values foregrounded from 1994 and <a href="https://www.justice.gov.za/legislation/constitution/saconstitution-web-eng.pdf#page=7">enshrined in the constitution</a> two years later. </p>
<p>The National Commission on Higher Education published <a href="https://www.ecsecc.org/documentrepository/informationcentre/higher_education_transformation.pdf">a report</a> in 1996 that outlined how such shifts could happen at the country’s <a href="https://www.ru.ac.za/media/rhodesuniversity/content/vc/documents/The_Challenges_of_Transformation_in_Higher_Eduaction_and_Training_Institutions_in_South_Africa.pdf#page=10">21 public universities</a> (there are 26 public universities today). New policies and <a href="https://www.gov.za/documents/higher-education-act">legislation</a> were formulated to codify institutional change. </p>
<p>Nearly 30 years on, how has the staffing situation changed – or not – at South African universities? The Council on Higher Education, an independent statutory body which performs quality control assessments for the sector, wanted to find out. The council asked us to investigate this issue as part of <a href="https://www.che.ac.za/sites/default/files/flipbooks/2023/che_review/index.html">a broader review</a> of the sector (our submission starts on page 146).</p>
<p>Our findings reveal that staffing at public higher education institutions remains polarised in terms of race and gender. The composition of the workforce still doesn’t reflect <a href="https://www.britannica.com/place/South-Africa/Conservation#ref44029">the country’s demographics</a>. White men continue to dominate.</p>
<p>The pace of change is frustratingly slow. There are a few likely reasons for this. One is that the higher education sector <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-the-dominance-of-big-players-is-bad-for-south-africas-economy-92058">reflects</a> many other parts of South African society, including the wider economy. Race and gender disparities are not unique to the sector.</p>
<p>It is crucial to address staff employment inequities in public higher education institutions. The sector’s political, social and economic value is <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/325781607_Conceptualising_Higher_Education_and_the_Public_Good_in_Ghana_Kenya_Nigeria_and_South_Africa">fundamental</a> in a diverse society that aspires to inclusivity.</p>
<p>Genuine diversity is critical for teaching and learning, too. Research has shown that students benefit enormously from <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/238506813_The_Educational_Benefits_of_Diversity_Evidence_from_Multiple_Sectors">being at universities with diverse teaching staff</a>. They can learn both from those who share or have shared their social and economic experiences, and those who do not.</p>
<h2>Key findings</h2>
<p>The period under review was 1994 to 2019. Our findings were drawn from two data sets: the Department of Higher Education and Training’s South African Post-Secondary Education data, dating from 1994 to 2002; and Higher Education Management Information System data from 2003 to 2018. This was supplemented by secondary data and other information acquired through literature review and document analysis.</p>
<p>Here are some key findings.</p>
<ul>
<li><p>There have been gradual increases in the numbers of all previously marginalised groups (women, black Africans, Indians and Coloureds) in academic staff. However, white men remain the dominant group, especially in the professorial rank. They account for 67% (2,086) of academic staff at a professor post level. The proportion of black African academic staff at the professor level doubled, from 8% (196) in 2000 to 19% (602) in 2018.</p></li>
<li><p>There have been significant shifts in the professional support staff category. In 2002, white people accounted for 67% in this group; black Africans accounted for just 22%, while the Coloured and Indian categories were 5% each. In 2018, the proportion of white professional staff declined to 35%, black African staff increased to 41%, Coloured staff increased to 16% (785) and Indian staff increased to 8%.</p></li>
<li><p>The non-professional administration staff workforce is the most transformed. For example, 66% of professional and administrative support staff are black African and female; [51% of](https://www.statssa.gov.za/?p=15833#:~:text=More%20than%20half%20(51%2C1,households%20are%20headed%20by%20females) South Africa’s national population is female.</p></li>
<li><p>The black African majority are still under-represented within the executive and senior management echelons. Black Africans make up 37% of the people who hold executive and senior management positions despite constituting <a href="https://www.news24.com/news24/south-africa-is-young-and-female-stats-sa-report-20180723">80.9% of the country’s population</a>. Of all the executive and senior managers in public higher education institutions, 45% are women, although women make up 51% of the total population.</p></li>
</ul>
<p>By 2018 black Africans made up 58% of the total workforce in this category. The white population group remained over-represented at 20% while its share in the overall population of the country was <a href="https://www.news24.com/news24/south-africa-is-young-and-female-stats-sa-report-20180723">about 7.8%</a>. The representation ratios of coloureds (17%) and Indian (7%) in non-professional administration staff were also above their proportional representation in the overall population of South Africa, which is at 8.8% and 2.5%, respectively.</p>
<h2>Recommendations</h2>
<p>There are several ways to speed up the pace of change in university staffing. </p>
<p>Sector-wide mentoring programmes could provide support and guidance to early-career academics. This would help them to navigate the academic landscape and develop their skills. These programmes should be tailored to address the particular challenges faced by women, black African academics and disabled individuals. </p>
<p>Talent management strategies are needed to prepare emerging scholars. Promising academics must be identified and nurtured so they can advance to senior positions.</p>
<p>Universities also need strategies to attract and retain under-represented groups. This will help to improve gender and racial parity.</p>
<p>On paper, these strategies are already in place at many universities. But they have a fundamental flaw: they’re not <a href="https://www.intersectionaljustice.org/what-is-intersectionality">intersectional</a>. Racial and gender discrimination do not happen in a vacuum. They intersect with other forms of discrimination.</p>
<p>Mentorship, retention and support programmes at many South African universities tend to focus solely on fostering gender and racial equality. They may not adequately address the complex and intersecting challenges faced by individuals belonging to multiple marginalised groups. Meaningful, lasting change in the country’s university staffing structures requires a far more integrated approach.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/207524/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>This study was funded and published by the South African Council on Higher Education.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Monwabisi K Ralarala and Nhlanhla Mpofu do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Despite some positive shifts, the staffing situation at public higher education institutions remains polarised in terms of race and gender.Mncedisi Maphalala, Director in the Centre for Excellence in Learning and Teaching (CELT), Durban University of TechnologyMonwabisi K Ralarala, Dean: Faculty of Arts and Humanities, University of the Western CapeNhlanhla Mpofu, Chair- Curriculum Studies, Stellenbosch UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1993102023-02-27T12:09:15Z2023-02-27T12:09:15ZOnline learning platforms aren’t enough – lecturers need the right technical skills<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/509706/original/file-20230213-22-6iyda6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Universities must do more than just offer online learning: they must make sure lecturers know how to adapt to the technology.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ground Picture/Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Technology has become the centre of our lives. It has also changed how university students learn and how lecturers teach. Some institutions had <a href="https://dl.acm.org/doi/abs/10.1145/1089107.1089139">already shifted</a> to some form of online teaching and learning before 2020. Then the onset of the COVID pandemic made digitised education <a href="https://www.scienceopen.com/hosted-document?doi=10.25159/UnisaRxiv/000016.v1">commonplace in many parts of the world</a>.</p>
<p>But it’s not enough for universities to offer technological platforms. Those who transfer knowledge – lecturers – must do so skilfully. They must also be able to appropriately support their students through any challenges related to online teaching platforms. </p>
<p>In South Africa, as in many developing countries, most of those entering higher education are <a href="https://www.africanminds.co.za/going-to-university-the-influence-of-higher-education-on-the-lives-of-young-south-africans/">not familiar</a> with online learning. They are not adept at finding their way around the internet. They struggle to navigate university learning management systems. The situation is made worse when lecturers don’t have the skills needed to facilitate classes and tutorials online. This <a href="https://www.vodafone.com/news/public-policy/technology-and-digital-skills-are-key-building-education-system-future">dearth of skills</a> on their lecturers’ part can <a href="https://oup.foleon.com/report/digital-divide/understanding-the-scale-of-the-problem/">negatively affect students’ performance and achievement</a>. </p>
<p>I conducted <a href="https://ejournals.bc.edu/index.php/ijahe/article/view/10902">a study</a> to explore how lecturers’ skills, knowledge and experience in e-learning affect student support. The research focused on an open distance e-learning institution – the <a href="https://www.unisa.ac.za/sites/corporate/default/About/The-leading-ODL-university">largest on the African continent</a>. It does not offer any face-to-face learning. Before the pandemic, teaching was based on a blended learning approach: written materials were delivered to students by post; others accessed it online from the university’s learning management system.</p>
<p>So, its teaching staff ought to be extra competent at using online technologies to teach and support students. My participants were academic staff members who had successfully completed a training programme designed to boost their digital skills. I also solicited feedback from students’ discussion forums to see how their learning experiences differed when their lecturers were technologically adept versus when they were not.</p>
<p>I found that most lecturers lacked the knowledge and digital skills necessary for open distance e-learning before the training. This had a significant negative impact on their attitudes to using technology in their teaching. It also hindered their ability to successfully support students. However, the capacity-building programme they completed greatly improved their digital literacy. It also positively shifted their perspectives.</p>
<p>My findings suggest that universities should offer their staff continuous professional development in distance education and e-learning. This will help lecturers to better support and improve the quality of students’ learning experiences.</p>
<h2>What I found</h2>
<p>The study focused on digital skills developed through an international partnership that aimed to develop academics’ capacity for e-learning. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/01587919.2016.1184399">Existing research</a> had already established that these sorts of partnerships were a good way to equip academics with expertise in information communication technology. This is because facilitators from developed countries, with comparatively long experience, access and knowledge regarding online learning technologies and techniques, are well placed to support those in developing nations like South Africa.</p>
<p>I collected data from participants in several ways, including interviews and online questionnaires. The academic staff I worked with had all participated in a capacity building programme offered as part of a partnership between the <a href="https://www.unisa.ac.za/sites/corporate/default">University of South Africa</a> and the <a href="https://www.umgc.edu/">University of Maryland Global Campus</a> between 2013 and 2015.</p>
<p>I also studied more than 1,000 students’ posts on online discussion forums related to two modules hosted on the university’s <a href="https://www.unisa.ac.za/sites/myunisa/default">learning management system</a>.</p>
<p>Most of my participants said the training helped them to better comprehend theories of distance education. It also enabled them to apply those theories when creating learning materials and facilitating learning online. They also felt empowered to increase student engagement, such as by creating online student communities. </p>
<p>The study confirmed that a lecturer’s lack of online facilitation skills can have a negative impact on learner outcomes. Lecturers cannot impart skills they themselves lack or facts they do not know to students: you can’t teach it if you don’t know it. </p>
<h2>Steps to take</h2>
<p>Based on my findings, I suggest that universities, whether they are partially or fully online, should:</p>
<ul>
<li><p>conduct institution-wide surveys to assess the readiness of academic staff for online teaching. The feedback can inform skills development plans and support systems both for academic and support staff.</p></li>
<li><p>create a platform for staff members who complete online teaching training programmes to share information and their experiences. This will contribute to the wider implementation of e-learning. Staff members who complete formal e-learning training programmes also need to be strategically co-opted in research, discussions, and projects within the university to share their knowledge more widely. </p></li>
<li><p>ensure that staff are properly trained and prepared to adapt and to adopt new technologies</p></li>
<li><p>ensure that students are creatively and actively engaged using the digital platforms developed as part of e-learning programmes. This includes being visible on digital platforms such as discussion forums and actively interacting with the students.</p></li>
</ul><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/199310/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Mpho-Entle Puleng Modise does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Lecturers need to be adept at both the theories of online learning and the technology used to do it.Mpho-Entle Puleng Modise, Lecturer, University of South AfricaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1983442023-02-08T13:15:59Z2023-02-08T13:15:59ZFew of South Africa’s chartered accountants are black: hearing their stories suggests what to fix<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/506304/original/file-20230125-18-tcfz60.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">There are ways to make the path to a chartered accountancy qualification less fraught for black candidates.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Andrey Popov/Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Chartered accountants can be found in the upper echelons of organisations all over the world as CEOs, directors and senior managers. They are often responsible for an entity’s finances, managing and reporting how funds are sourced and used, and the tax implications. Others are auditors.</p>
<p>Becoming a chartered accountant (CA) is not easy. In South Africa one must complete both undergraduate and postgraduate qualifications, serve a minimum of three years of articles (a supervised practical learnership) and complete two professional exams. </p>
<p>There is also a big racial disparity in South Africa’s chartered accountancy realm: only 8,610 (17%) of the 51,152 <a href="https://www.saica.org.za/members/member-info/membership-statistics">registered CAs</a> are black. That’s in stark contrast to the country’s demographics; <a href="https://www.statista.com/statistics/1116076/total-population-of-south-africa-by-population-group/">nearly 81%</a> of South Africans are black. </p>
<p>This gap is rooted in history. For most of apartheid’s white-minority rule from 1948 to 1994, black citizens were not allowed to become chartered accountants. The first black man <a href="https://www.saica.org.za/about/overview/our-history">qualified in 1976</a> and the first black woman <a href="https://www.accountancysa.org.za/cover-story-winning-women-nonkululeko-gobodo-casa/">in 1987</a>. Though the profession is now open to all, it’s clear that historical disparities persist. </p>
<p>Most of the scientific literature that examines the challenges faced by aspirant and qualified black CAs is presented through the lens of professional bodies, universities, training firms and scholarship funders. Very few studies directly engage the black aspirants to find out what their lived struggles are. </p>
<p>I wanted to fill this gap because when people can share their own lived experiences, as the scholar Cheryl McEwan <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/0305707032000095009?">puts it</a>, “their agency and sense of belonging is restored”. </p>
<p>So, for <a href="https://uir.unisa.ac.za/handle/10500/29357">my PhD</a>, I interviewed 22 recently qualified black CAs. Their lived experiences brought to light the brutal nature of the challenges they were experiencing – and emphasised that while some of these could be attributed to apartheid’s legacy, others were a manifestation of the complex racial and class divisions in contemporary society. </p>
<p>My findings suggest some easy and practical interventions that can be applied in <a href="http://www.thedtic.gov.za/financial-and-non-financial-support/b-bbee/b-bbee-charters/">the government’s initiatives</a> to transform the profession. The same framework can be applied in higher education and workplace training to promote inclusive learning and training practices. For academics, it lays a foundation for an avenue of research that responds to the practical challenges experienced in the profession. </p>
<h2>No room for failure</h2>
<p>My interviewees all qualified between 2016 and 2022 at different universities across the country. Some had taken more than the average seven years to qualify; a few had temporarily dropped out of their university studies before returning and completing their degrees. </p>
<p>The aspirants spoke of how gaining access to universities accredited by the <a href="https://www.saica.co.za/">South African Institute of Chartered Accountants</a> was a logistical nightmare. Universities must be accredited for their degrees to be recognised by the institute.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/university-transformation-the-wrong-research-questions-are-being-asked-67339">University transformation: the wrong research questions are being asked</a>
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<p>Many of the students were based in townships and rural areas, while the accredited institutions are found in big cities like Johannesburg, Cape Town and Durban. Students had to leave the safety provided by their immediate families and communities. </p>
<p>Because accounting qualifications have high entrance requirements and the aspirants had the necessary aptitude, they got merit scholarships which covered the cost of their relocation. But the terms and conditions of those scholarships left no room for failure, irrespective of the reasons. </p>
<p>One of the interviewees described how and why she lost her funding:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>In my third year, I lost my dad and {was} also not feeling well. So, I actually failed my third year. I was on <a href="https://www.saica.org.za/initiatives/thuthuka/apply-to-the-thuthuka-bursary-fund">Thuthuka</a> {a bursary fund} but obviously if you do fail, they do stop your tuition.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>She spent time in hospital and lost her funding. She later got a job, funded her part-time studies and eventually qualified.</p>
<h2>An unfamiliar setting</h2>
<p>University settings also presented some challenges.</p>
<p>Despite most students in a class being black, they felt displaced. Interviewees lamented the displays of cultural and language familiarity between white lecturers and white students in class. This reduced the black students to spectators of their tuition rather than active participants. One said:</p>
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<p>So sometimes I just think the system itself was just not for us … If I can put it that way.</p>
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<p>Another told me:</p>
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<p>… there is a lot of difference between me and a white person … because our education system doesn’t teach you how to learn. It teaches you how to remember. It’s all good and well, but now when you’re required to apply yourself, you don’t remember how to because you’ve never done it before.</p>
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<p>This comment was a reference to the country’s <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-south-africa-can-disrupt-its-deeply-rooted-educational-inequality-48531">extremely unequal schooling system</a>. </p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-south-africa-can-disrupt-its-deeply-rooted-educational-inequality-48531">How South Africa can disrupt its deeply rooted educational inequality</a>
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</p>
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<p>The kind of knowledge they brought into the system was not fit for purpose and the interviewees found themselves constantly challenged even though they were smart. One reflected:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I think for me it was an exposure thing. That is why I would do poorly in those tests, or questions, or scenarios I had to solve. I found that for example, if a case study is based on the airline industry, you’re not exposed to that as a black person. So, it makes it difficult to then have that logic, even if something can be very straightforward because you haven’t been in that situation.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>So, although the aspirants had physically gained access to the qualification, there was constant confirmation that they operated on the periphery of it. </p>
<p>I was struck by how important the interviewees’ families were on these tough, sometimes lonely journeys. They consistently referenced their families as the strong pillars that helped them overcome adversity. </p>
<p>Academic research about accounting doesn’t often recognise the role of community in black people’s successful academic journeys. A better understanding of the role of community could help universities to respond appropriately to their students’ learning needs and should form the basis for free mental health support.</p>
<h2>Towards a new framework</h2>
<p>Based on my research, I propose a new framework that aims to narrow the gap between black students’ lived realities and the accounting qualification offered by universities.</p>
<p>For example, universities might adjust their admission requirement in a way that accounts for the inequity in basic education. They can also teach these students the language of business and collaborate with corporate organisations to aid students’ understanding of business practices in South Africa. </p>
<p>A more inclusive curriculum would also use examples that reflect the whole of society, allowing students from different backgrounds to engage with those examples.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/198344/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Sedzani Musundwa receives postdoctoral funding from BANKSETA. </span></em></p>Smart, capable students struggled to navigate cultural and language norms in university accounting classrooms.Sedzani Musundwa, Senior Lecturer in Financial Accounting, University of South AfricaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1986772023-01-31T10:05:33Z2023-01-31T10:05:33ZSouth Africa’s dysfunctional universities: the consequences of corrupt decisions<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507045/original/file-20230130-14-707210.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The integrity of the academic project should underscore universities' work at all times.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">xtock/Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>What happens when those responsible for managing universities cannot trust each other to act with integrity? In a nutshell, as I discuss in <a href="https://witspress.co.za/page/detail/Corrupted/?K=9781776147946">my new book</a>, Corrupted: A study of chronic dysfunction in South African universities, dysfunction is the consequence.</p>
<p>This is the situation playing out in some South African universities – sometimes with fatal results. In early January 2023, a protection officer who was guarding Fort Hare University vice-chancellor Professor Sakhela Buhlungu was <a href="https://ewn.co.za/2023/01/07/fort-hare-vc-at-safe-location-after-bodyguard-killed-in-assassination-attempt">shot dead</a> in an apparent assassination attempt. The shooting has <a href="https://www.news24.com/news24/southafrica/news/university-of-fort-hare-killings-higher-education-institutions-becoming-a-cradle-for-criminality-20230110">been linked</a> to <a href="https://www.siu.org.za/siu-authorised-to-investigate-four-contracts-and-degrees-at-the-university-of-fort-hare-and-five-public-works-and-infrastructure-tenders-including-parliament-properties/">ongoing investigations</a> into corruption at the university.</p>
<p>This appears to be just one example of how eroded trust has led to conflict among university managers that’s spilled into the public domain.</p>
<p>The principal conclusion I reach in my book is that chronic dysfunction in a sample of South African universities can be explained by two intertwined factors. One is institutional capacity. This is the expert ability to lead, manage and administer universities. The other is institutional integrity – the steering academic values that buffer universities against instability. Where both capacity and integrity are weak, dysfunction is inevitable. </p>
<h2>Integrity matters</h2>
<p>Individual integrity involves a person acting honestly and doing the right thing. It means consistency in the values that connect words and actions.
An <a href="https://satoriproject.eu/media/1.e-Institutional-Integrity.pdf">institution with integrity</a> has been described as: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>an organisation that defines and acts within a strong code of ethical conduct and positive values.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>It doesn’t tolerate deviance from the code by its employees or partners.</p>
<p>Universities with high levels of institutional integrity vigorously pursue their core mandate. This is rooted in a strong sense of academic values. It is the glue that holds functional universities together and focuses their operations. Those academic values also steady an institution in turbulent times. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507043/original/file-20230130-22-jvpwxu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507043/original/file-20230130-22-jvpwxu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/507043/original/file-20230130-22-jvpwxu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=916&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507043/original/file-20230130-22-jvpwxu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=916&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507043/original/file-20230130-22-jvpwxu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=916&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507043/original/file-20230130-22-jvpwxu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1151&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507043/original/file-20230130-22-jvpwxu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1151&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/507043/original/file-20230130-22-jvpwxu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1151&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<p>Such values centre on high-quality teaching, higher learning and cutting-edge research. Together these values advance social and human development. They are prominent on management’s weekly meetings agendas, on senate’s term meetings and on council’s quarterly meetings. Everything revolves around the academic project.</p>
<h2>The case of student protests</h2>
<p>One of the most important functions of academic values is to hold the institution together in times of challenge. For instance, how does an institution react when the integrity of the academic degree is at risk because of a prolonged shutdown?</p>
<p>In 2015 and 2016, students embarked on <a href="https://theconversation.com/student-protesters-must-move-beyond-hashtags-to-real-change-51138">historic protests</a> at campuses across South Africa. They demanded free and decolonised higher education. The press for free higher education arose because degree studies were becoming more expensive. This excluded more and more people from university. The decolonisation movement at formerly white universities protested that the curriculum was too European, the professors too white, and the institutional culture too alienating. </p>
<p>In response to the disruptions, the better-resourced, formerly white universities quickly transitioned to emergency remote teaching to ensure that the academic year was not lost. This highlights the importance of academic values to those institutions.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/after-protests-it-cant-be-business-as-usual-at-south-africas-universities-50548">After protests, it can't be business as usual at South Africa's universities</a>
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<p>By contrast, in 2021, after a dysfunctional university specialising in the health sciences <a href="https://www.heraldlive.co.za/opinion/2021-11-11-how-do-you-solve-a-problem-like-smu/">was shut down</a> by routine protests for months on end, the students received their degrees as if nothing had happened.</p>
<p>The academic project was seriously compromised. But there was little institutional concern about the integrity of the degrees.</p>
<p>It is quite possible to see a structure or an organisation and to misrecognise it as an institution of higher learning. It would be easy to be fooled by the symbolic functions – like graduation – and administrative routines – such as registration – of university life and mistake these for a university. As I have <a href="https://repository.up.ac.za/bitstream/handle/2263/340/Jansen%20%282005%29d.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y">argued elsewhere</a>, a university ceases to exist when the intellectual project no longer defines its identity, infuses its curriculum, energises its scholars, and inspires its students.</p>
<h2>When integrity is undermined</h2>
<p>The crisis of dysfunctional institutions commonly arises when universities make compromised decisions on everything from tenders for infrastructure to appointments of key personnel. Such decisions compound foundational weaknesses and increase the risk of systemic failure. This is how institutional dysfunction begins and is sustained: through the breaching of institutional integrity.</p>
<p>The institutional integrity of vulnerable institutions is weakened, for example, through the decisions it makes about personnel appointments and promotions. Critical skill sets are compromised by populating crucial positions in administration with friends and family members. In one instance, as I document in the book, a whistle-blower at a serially dysfunctional university gave the new administrator “a list of all the family members appointed by the vice-chancellor”. Action was promised. None was taken.</p>
<p>The integrity of the academy is undermined even more when people who would not enjoy such elevation at an established university are promoted to senior academic positions in the name of equity. </p>
<p>And the governance of an institution is placed at serious risk through the appointment to council of junior members who have never governed anything in their lives. A university council is the most senior body responsible for governance. It should consist of senior people from professional fields with the experience to govern a higher education institution.</p>
<h2>Tackling the crisis</h2>
<p>There is no shortcut to restoring the institutional integrity of a chronically dysfunctional university. </p>
<p>It requires the appointment of smaller, professional councils without political interference. It demands competent leaders who are not beholden to political parties or factions. These leaders must hold strong convictions about the importance of academic values in the gradual rebuilding of a university.</p>
<p><em>This is an edited excerpt from <a href="https://witspress.co.za/page/detail/Corrupted/?K=9781776147946">the book</a>, Corrupted: A study of chronic dysfunction in South African universities (Wits University Press, 2023).</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/198677/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jonathan Jansen does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Where both capacity and integrity are weak, dysfunction is inevitable.Jonathan Jansen, Distinguished Professor, Stellenbosch UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1906752022-09-30T13:24:28Z2022-09-30T13:24:28ZSouth African universities need to better support doctoral supervisors<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/485552/original/file-20220920-3476-c1zwpd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A good supervisor can help PhD students through the process.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Marko Geber/Getty Images</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>South Africa’s government has ambitious plans for doctoral education. The country aims <a href="https://www.dhet.gov.za/Planning%20Monitoring%20and%20Evaluation%20Coordination/Are%20we%20producing%20enough%20Doctoral%20graduates%20in%20our%20Universities.docx%20(1).pdf">to increase its output</a> to 5,000 doctorates annually by 2030. <a href="https://www.che.ac.za/sites/default/files/inline-files/CHE%20Doctoral%20Degrees%20National%20Reporte.pdf">In 2013</a>, the figure stood at 2,051; by 2019 it was up to 3,445. </p>
<p>It also wants 75% of all academics employed at universities to hold a PhD by 2030. In 2019, <a href="https://www.dhet.gov.za/Planning%20Monitoring%20and%20Evaluation%20Coordination/Are%20we%20producing%20enough%20Doctoral%20graduates%20in%20our%20Universities.docx%20(1).pdf">that figure was just 46%</a>. </p>
<p>There are several reasons for the drive to prioritise postgraduate education. One is a response to the rise of the so-called “knowledge economy”: universities want to improve their research output and see doctoral graduates as a good group to help achieve this aim. One of the key requirements for a university to produce PhD graduates is to address the supervision capacity by developing emerging supervisors. </p>
<p>When embarking on a PhD, candidates make several choices. What is their central research question? What methodology will they use? And, crucially, who will be their supervisor? A supervisor is a university staff member whose role is to guide and support postgraduate students studying towards a master’s or a doctoral degree. At the doctoral level students are allowed to choose their supervisors based on their expertise in the field of research. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/why-phds-are-good-for-individuals-and-for-a-country-123935">Why PhDs are good -- for individuals, and for a country</a>
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<p>But merely holding a PhD or having spent some years in academia doesn’t make someone naturally able to supervise students. Good supervisors need a variety of skills, research experience and publications.</p>
<p>The South African Council on Higher Education recently released <a href="https://www.che.ac.za/sites/default/files/inline-files/CHE%20Doctoral%20Degrees%20National%20Reporte.pdf">a report</a> on its key findings from a review of doctoral education. It states:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>There is clearly a need for additional supervisory capacity across the national system, and programmes for training supervisors are in place in most universities.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>My <a href="https://commons.ru.ac.za/vital/access/manager/Repository/vital:49980">own PhD research</a> found gaps in the system, including where programmes for training are said to be in place. I investigated how 20 of South Africa’s public universities support emerging supervisors. My study findings revealed that emerging supervisors were often simply thrown into the deep end with no development or support. Where professional development was available, it was often presented by facilitators without supervision experience.</p>
<p>I identified five areas that could be strengthened. These included whether training for supervisors was once-off or ongoing; how supervisors viewed the purpose of higher education – merely to ensure a certain number of PhD graduates or as a way to build knowledge – and whether supervisors were given the space to apply lessons learnt in workshops. I believe that if these steps were taken South Africa’s universities would have a much stronger cohort of supervisors.</p>
<h2>Five factors</h2>
<p>For my PhD <a href="https://commons.ru.ac.za/vital/access/manager/Repository/vital:49980">I surveyed</a> 186 participants, both emerging (novice) and experienced supervisors, and interviewed 54 academics from multiple disciplines. Some of their institutions offered once-off workshops for PhD supervisors. Others presented short courses or developed mentoring programmes.</p>
<p>From this data, I identified five factors that determined the success and value of institutions’ development of PhD supervisors. </p>
<p>The first was how supervisors understood the purpose of postgraduate education. Many supervisors were under enormous pressure to “get students through the system”. They felt this undermined their role in nurturing the next generation of researchers who could contribute to the stock of knowledge.</p>
<p>Some reported that <a href="https://theconversation.com/paying-commission-to-academics-reduces-the-value-of-research-146498">incentives paid to supervisors</a> had perverse consequences. In some cases, experienced supervisors were not willing to work alongside and mentor a novice because they didn’t want to share incentives.</p>
<p>Key performance indicators related to postgraduate throughput rates also led to an understanding of supervision as managing their pathway through the system rather than advising students in knowledge creation processes.</p>
<p>The second factor centred on efficiency, which refers here to the government’s desire for high graduate returns on its subsidy investments in doctoral enrolments.</p>
<p>Many of those I interviewed felt like workshops were a tick-box exercise designed to ensure compliance with institutional regulations. They responded either by not attending workshops, by attending without meaningfully engaging. This “<a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/13562517.2022.2119077">absent attendance</a>” means that making workshops or courses compulsory won’t address their inherent problems.</p>
<p>The third factor was the credibility of course designers and facilitators. Emerging supervisors told me they appreciated being introduced to the wealth of literature on issues of teaching and learning with postgraduates. But the facilitators were often employed in <a href="https://commons.ru.ac.za/vital/access/manager/Repository/vital:28141?site_name=Rhodes%20University">administrative posts and on contract</a>: they had little research or postgraduate supervision experience. This dented their credibility in the supervisors’ eyes.</p>
<p>Supervisors’ own agency was another factor. My PhD supervisor, Professor Sioux McKenna, and I <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/276173417_Motshoane_P_and_McKenna_S_2014_'%20More_than_agency_the_multiple_mechanisms_affecting_postgraduate_education'_Pushing_boundaries_in_postgraduate_supervision_Bitzer_E_Editor_Stellenbosch_SUN_Media">have argued elsewhere</a> that some supervision development initiatives operate from the problematic premise that supervisors can be trained to “fix” low retention and poor throughput rates.</p>
<p>Good supervision is a necessary condition for a successful postgraduate journey. But it alone won’t repair these problems. If novice supervisors are sent off to workshops to develop generic skills and little is done to ensure that the department, faculty and university have a research-rich environment and student-focused administrative systems, structural issues will persist.</p>
<p>Emerging supervisors also said they emerged from training enthusiastic about the possibilities or alternative approaches to postgraduate education they’d discussed – only to have their ideas dismissed by colleagues or thwarted by institutional processes.</p>
<p>The fifth factor related to whether training was once-off or part of ongoing development. Despite their concerns, most participants who had attended supervisor development initiatives indicated that they benefited at least in some way from such support. However, where the support was offered as a once-off training, often just a half-day workshop, they felt there was an underlying message: good supervision was simply a matter of implementing a few skills. </p>
<h2>Conclusions</h2>
<p>Overall, the people I interviewed wanted flexible, collaborative, supportive – and ongoing – opportunities. There were calls for more discipline-specific interventions and collaborative spaces where emerging supervisors could engage with experienced supervisors rather than being instructed in a generic best-practice of “how to supervise”.</p>
<p>If these calls are heeded and institutions develop training into something beyond a tick-box exercise, the pool of capable supervisors in South Africa can be dramatically expanded.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/190675/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Puleng Motshoane does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>A good supervisor can make all the difference for a PhD candidate on their tough academic journey.Puleng Motshoane, Academic Developer, University of JohannesburgLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1222222019-08-26T14:17:05Z2019-08-26T14:17:05ZWhat student teachers learn when putting theory into classroom practice<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/288908/original/file-20190821-170906-1w8s0o4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">When faced with a class full of learners, student teachers must adapt theory to practice. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sunshine Seeds/Shutterstock/Editorial use only</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The preparation of student teachers is a critical aspect of their journey to being professional teachers. And teaching practice – real-world experiences that students acquire from actual classroom teaching before they are qualified teachers – is one important characteristic of this preparation process. </p>
<p>During this process, student teachers entering the profession are supported to realise that teaching is not just about applying learnt theories. It also requires practical problem solving expertise that leads to effective teaching. Simply put, it’s not adequate for student teachers to only observe and read about teaching if they don’t also practise it. </p>
<p><a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/2158244017709863">According to research</a>, mentorship from experienced teachers and systematic reflection in practice helps student teachers to cultivate knowledge of the subject, learners and teaching communities.</p>
<p>In South Africa, all initial teacher education institutions are mandated through policy to include teaching practice as part of the Bachelor of Education programme. I recently conducted <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/334724654_Reflecting_on_English_student_teachers'_critical_incidents_during_teaching_practicum">a study</a> about teaching practice at one South African university. </p>
<p>At this institution, teaching practice begins in the first year of enrolment. In the first two years, the students are sent to schools for a time to observe an experienced teacher in the actual process of teaching. In the last two years of the study, the student teachers began the actual teaching under the mentorship of an experienced mentor teacher. </p>
<p>I wanted to know how student teachers in their third year deal with what are known as <a href="https://assets.cambridge.org/97805218/49111/sample/9780521849111ws.pdf">“critical incidents”</a>. These are defined as unplanned and unanticipated events that occur during a lesson or outside the classroom that provide an important insight to the practitioner about teaching and learning. For example, a high school teacher might plan to have learners debate on a topic, but discover that the learners are unable to construct a comprehensible English sentence. This incident will serve as a future reference to the teacher not to assume the learners’ level of proficiency. </p>
<p>In my study, I found that the student teachers used critical incidents to notice, reflect and reshape their teaching practices. Such reflection is critical as it enables them to question their practices, the initial process to their professional development. </p>
<h2>Three key areas</h2>
<p>In my study, I examined the critical incidents that the 38 student teachers who were being prepared to teach English in high school encountered during teaching practice. These incidents resulted from situations in which student teachers were puzzled about how to maintain an effective teaching environment. </p>
<p>Three key areas emerged from the study. One related to discipline; the second was about student teachers’ professional identity; the third outlined how student teachers grappled with differences between theory and practice.</p>
<p>Firstly, the student teachers felt challenged in maintaining classroom discipline. They found that there was a mismatch between the theories of classroom management they had studied at university and the realities of the classrooms where they had been placed. </p>
<p>Classroom indiscipline was largely a result of large classes and limited learning resources. Learners also often struggled with the English language – they came from multi-lingual backgrounds and were learning English as a second language.</p>
<p>The student teachers seem to have learnt that the failure to match subject knowledge and the actual context of the classroom caused ill-discipline among learners.</p>
<p>Secondly, the student teachers learnt that the way they chose to groom themselves as professionals, especially in dress, influenced how learners assigned credibility to them as teachers. The student teachers became aware that their developing professional identity was shaped in interactions with others – including the learners during various activities of teaching and learning. </p>
<p>While the student teachers had only focused on the classroom as a source of practising their professionalism, they came to realise that sites of instruction were multiple and, at times, informal.</p>
<p>Thirdly, the student teachers experienced estrangement between the theories of second language teaching and the practical instruction needs in the classroom. Although the student teachers have theoretical knowledge of teaching English, the realities in the classroom did not align to their preparation experiences.</p>
<p>Perhaps the most significant “incident” that all the student teachers described on this point was that their learners lacked the prior knowledge they’d expected to be in place at those levels. They filled the gap by developing remedial programmes to help their learners. But they told me they weren’t certain they’d be able to continue with this sort of support when they actually became full-time teachers. They worried doing this would add to an already heavy work load.</p>
<h2>What does this mean?</h2>
<p>These findings lay bare just some of the wide range of experiences to which student teachers are exposed when they work in classrooms and schools. The study also shows how student teachers responded to these incidents: they saw them as a learning process that caused them to act, respond and reflect so they could maintain quality teaching. </p>
<p>These descriptions are important as evidence of the way student teachers reframe, rephrase, reshape and ultimately transform their teaching practices to reflect both context and diversity in English Language teaching.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/122222/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Nhlanhla Mpofu receives funding from the National Research Foundation Thuthuka Grant (TTK170427229083)</span></em></p>Student teachers saw certain incidents in their classrooms as a learning process that caused them to act, respond and reflect so they could maintain quality teaching.Nhlanhla Mpofu, Senior Lecturer, University of the Free StateLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1217552019-08-13T09:42:48Z2019-08-13T09:42:48ZHow Toni Morrison’s legacy plays out in South Africa’s universities<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287682/original/file-20190812-71917-1l6vqmz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Toni Morrison's legacy echoes across the world.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">EPA-EFE/Arturo Peña-Romano</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>I first encountered Toni Morrison during my undergraduate years at Rhodes University in South Africa where her Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2019/08/06/books/beloved-morrison-song-of-solomon-bluest-eye.html">Beloved</a> (1987), was taught as part of an American Literature course. </p>
<p>It moved me in ways that no other academic account of transatlantic, African American slavery had. Beloved is set in the 19th century. It tells the story of a runaway slave who commits infanticide rather than seeing her child returned to slavery. As with Morrison’s entire fictional oeuvre, the novel profoundly embodies and humanises black life.</p>
<p>Part of what motivated Morrison – <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2019/08/06/books/toni-morrison-dead.html">who has died at the age of 88</a> – was <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/11333835?q&versionId=13290453">impatience</a> at how black literature was typically taught as sociology but was considered intellectually and artistically bereft.</p>
<p>In her Tanner lecture series delivered at the University of Michigan in 1988, she <a href="https://tannerlectures.utah.edu/_documents/a-to-z/m/morrison90.pdf">defiantly stated</a>, in defence of a generically marginalised African American presence:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>We have always been imagining ourselves … subjects of our own narrative, witnesses to and participants in our own experience … We are not, in fact, ‘other’. We are choices.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The inspiration provided by her fictional writing and critical scholarship around the ideological, artistic and scholarly place of black literature helped carve out an imaginative and actual space for the likes of me – a black African female – within a predominantly white and male, largely Eurocentric literary and intellectual establishment.</p>
<p>Today, I teach at the same university where I first read Beloved and discovered this remarkably talented, intellectually formidable African-American woman novelist. And her work continues to echo. Not just for me, but for the new generation of literature students who cross my path each year. </p>
<h2>A complicated place in the canon</h2>
<p>In some ways, perhaps Morrison is even more relevant in South African universities today than she’s ever been. Race is a topic that’s simultaneously sanitised and amplified in the country’s everyday discourse. Morrison’s determined refusal to shy away from race reverberates across the Atlantic, resonating with students who still live the enduring political and economic legacies of <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/article/history-slavery-and-early-colonisation-south-africa">racial colonialism</a> and apartheid.</p>
<p>On the face of it, the country’s demands for social redress would seem to align with Morrison’s thinking. But a closer reading shows how her fiction strains against the confines of parochial societal interpretations and exercises. It makes the demand for more than superficial change implemented along purely racial lines. It insists on an interrogation and re-imagining of the entire architecture and workings of race.</p>
<p>This reveals how Morrison’s place in both the African-American and global literary canon is quite complicated. It also makes clear why it is that she appeals to so many of my students, across the (proverbial) divide. Each year I watch students from varied racial, social, cultural, economic and gender (or gendered) backgrounds engage with her novels in my classroom. Their readings are intuitive and discerning. This yields often interesting and vigorous discussions, and even heated debates, that reflect the complexity and applicability of her experiences and intellect – and theirs.</p>
<p>Take her debut novel, <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/The-Bluest-Eye">The Bluest Eye</a> (1970). It provides a delineation of racial self-hatred, incest and familial violence that critiques the deleterious effects of white hegemony. But it also controversially explores and confronts the internalised delimiting contours of black counter-narratives.</p>
<p>The book’s feminist focus on the sexual abuse of women speaks to the damaging effects of patriarchal ideologies and practices within black communities. It resonates with all people in South Africa – a country with <a href="https://www.csvr.org.za/pdf/CSVR-Violence-Against-Women-in-SA.pdf">incredibly high</a> rates of gender violence.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/37398.Jazz">Jazz</a> (1992) is another Morrison novel whose complex existential narratives require equally complex interpretations. Structurally, it mimics the musical genre’s polyvocal, sometimes cacophonous, intonations to trace the lives of African Americans across time and space. It’s a tough read for two reasons. </p>
<p>First, it requires that students have an appreciation of the technical workings of the artistic cultural form that is jazz. Second, the novel demands from them a critical inquiry into and participatory reading of the experiences of “a people”; of histories that are both outside of and intersect with their own. </p>
<p>This is particularly important at a time when calls are rampant in South African higher education circles for the “Africanisation” of curricula. These calls appeal to contemporary nationalist demands and are in direct contrast to Morrison’s <a href="https://tannerlectures.utah.edu/_documents/a-to-z/m/morrison90.pdf">stated intolerance</a> of “lazy, easy, brand-name applications”. Instead, she and her work <a href="https://tannerlectures.utah.edu/_documents/a-to-z/m/morrison90.pdf">insisted</a> on the painstakingly “hard work” of non-prescriptive and interrogative, “border-crossing” analysis. </p>
<h2>The measure of a life</h2>
<p>In her 1993 <a href="https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/literature/1993/morrison/lecture/">Nobel Prize speech</a>, Morrison stated: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>And that is the measure of Toni Morrison’s life. Her dense, demanding prose reflects our continued need – in post-apartheid South Africa’s university classrooms, and elsewhere – to meditate critically and consciously upon our own fragile and imperfect existences. Her narratives put forward morally responsive and socially transformative ways of being in the world. Morrison’s legacy, then, is not just to literature: it is to the imperatives of social justice and to the ideals of humanity not yet realised.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/121755/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Aretha Phiri is an NRF rated researcher and a research fellow at the Stellenbosch Institute for Advanced Study </span></em></p>In some ways, perhaps Morrison is even more relevant in South African universities today than she’s ever been.Aretha Phiri, Senior lecturer, Department of Literary Studies in English, Rhodes UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1162922019-05-02T14:32:46Z2019-05-02T14:32:46ZBook review: one VC’s account of student protests in South Africa<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/272192/original/file-20190502-103078-juwi8q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A protest outside South Africa's Parliament demanding amnesty for students arrested during "fees must fall" protests.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Nic Bothma/EPA</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The <a href="https://theconversation.com/africa/topics/feesmustfall-21801">#FeesMustFall protests</a> of 2015 and 2016 have made an indelible mark on higher education in South Africa. The protests left no university untouched. And they elicited significant emotions: for, against or a mixture of the two. </p>
<p>Most could agree with the sentiments that underpinned the protests. Students wanted more equitable access to higher education. They called for free education. But there was significant disagreement and concern around their methods of protest, tactics and outcomes. </p>
<p>Student leaders from the time will rightly claim victory. Tuition increases were <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2015/10/24/world/africa/south-africa-freezes-tuition-fees-after-student-protests.html">frozen</a> for the 2016 academic year. Support workers who had been outsourced were given <a href="https://ewn.co.za/2017/01/12/wits-spending-r120m-on-insourcing-workers-this-year">permanent employment</a> at some institutions. The government agreed to create a <a href="https://theconversation.com/free-higher-education-in-south-africa-cutting-through-the-lies-and-statistics-90474">fee-free</a> university environment for those below a determined household income threshold. </p>
<p>Those who opposed the protests will argue that the sacrifices made to secure these gains came at too great a cost. Students and staff were traumatised. Infrastructure was destroyed. Books and artworks were burned. The reallocation of financial resources had real consequences in the broader society: government expenditure on the social wage declined in nominal terms, making it more difficult for South Africa’s most vulnerable citizens to survive.</p>
<p>These positions persist and have not been reconciled. More than ever, South African universities need a new social contract that charts a way forward and begins to heal divisions. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/272188/original/file-20190502-103063-17gf4ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/272188/original/file-20190502-103063-17gf4ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/272188/original/file-20190502-103063-17gf4ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=920&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/272188/original/file-20190502-103063-17gf4ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=920&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/272188/original/file-20190502-103063-17gf4ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=920&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/272188/original/file-20190502-103063-17gf4ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1156&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/272188/original/file-20190502-103063-17gf4ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1156&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/272188/original/file-20190502-103063-17gf4ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1156&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jonathan Ball Publishers</span></span>
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<p>Two Vice Chancellors – one who has completed his term, the other still serving– have written books on the issue. <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-end-of-south-african-universities-82180">The first</a>, <em>As by Fire, the end of the South African university</em>, was written by Professor Jonathan Jansen. He ran the university of the Free State during the protests. More recently, the vice chancellor of the University of the Witwatersrand (known as Wits), Professor Adam Habib published <em><a href="http://www.jonathanball.co.za/component/virtuemart/new-releases-1/2019-releases/rebels-and-rage-reflecting-on-feesmustfall-detail?Itemid=6">Rebels and Rage</a></em>.</p>
<p>My analysis of Habib’s book is that it is a participant-observer account but does little to contribute ideas that might be used to develop such a contract or to move South African higher education forward. This is a pity given that this was meant to be <a href="https://mg.co.za/article/2012-11-30-adam-habib-tipped-to-give-wits-the-edge">a central premise</a> of his leadership at Wits. </p>
<h2>Division and contestation</h2>
<p>Habib proffers a set of insights and commentary on the politics and political economy of what took place at Wits and across the sector. He situates his analysis in discussing moments and offering personal reflections. It is an insider view of the protests. </p>
<p>Quite rightly, he argues that a lot was at stake during #FeesMustFall, in particular the integrity of the whole higher education sector. He weaves this narrative throughout a series of chapters that seek to unpack particular moments, events and the individuals involved in this. But often, these end up being derisive of others; questioning tactics, political motivations, aspirations and ideology. </p>
<p>Some of this is understandable, especially when considering some of the deception or miscalculations that took place or when questioning the intellectual basis – such as quoting Frantz Fanon and Steve Biko – for engaging in violence.</p>
<p>But the issues and moments raised remain divisive, contested and are certainly not settled. At times the book feels like an endeavour to settle scores and to use the authority and privilege assigned through being the Vice-Chancellor to set the narrative. He frequently uses hyperbolic, dismissive language. </p>
<p>This creates a real conundrum for Habib when he needs to execute his role as the final point of decision-making. For academics and students derided in the book, can they reasonably expect fair treatment by their Vice-Chancellor on matters pertaining to career and studies? </p>
<h2>Disclosure</h2>
<p>In the spirit of full disclosure, I was present and involved in the protests in 2015 and 2016. I am mentioned in the book, but am not counted among the major role-players and come in for no particular praise nor scorn.</p>
<p>When the protests began, I was an academic and was among the leaders of the Academic Staff Association of Wits University. </p>
<p>Our main role throughout was to be present and try – where possible – to diffuse conflict between students, staff, police and private security and to build understanding. Some of us were tear gassed, shot with rubber bullets, had stones thrown at us or were pushed around by various parties. Sometimes we were effective, and other times we were not. The scar on the back of my head can attest to this.</p>
<p>I witnessed many of the stories and moments Habib describes. He offers insights and reflections that feel familiar and make logical connections, and his account of some events is accurate.</p>
<p>But gaps also emerge among these recollections. </p>
<h2>What’s missing</h2>
<p>Habib contends that this is a personal reflection on the #FeesMustFall movement. Yet he makes assumptions about other people’s intent. Here I think not just of students, but also of some academic staff whom he seems to set up as proverbial boogeymen. To Habib, he was right, and anyone who disagreed with him, was wrong. This is an overly simplistic approach to a complex set of moments and leads to unfair characterisations.</p>
<p>I also found Habib’s lack of self-reflection and ownership over decisions and how some events unfolded striking. The reader gets some glimpses, such as his regret over berating a student for requesting security assistance for student residences. But this is a unique moment and little consideration is given to actions and decisions taken at the senior management level. </p>
<p>For example, was it helpful to issue written warnings to protesters in 2015 threatening arrest for blocking entrance gates? Did it diffuse the situation to use an apartheid era <a href="https://www.gov.za/sites/default/files/gcis_document/201505/act-6-1959.pdf">trespassing law</a>? Finally, how does he reconcile his beliefs with the fact that the protesters were ultimately successful in achieving their ends and what does this mean for social movements in South Africa?</p>
<p>No one emerged from #FeesMustFall a hero or a villain. Everyone made mistakes. Everyone miscalculated. Everyone misunderstood elements of the moment. Instead of pointing fingers and casting blame, what is needed is consideration and thought into how Wits and other South African universities are going to move forward.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/116292/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>David J Hornsby does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>More than ever, South African universities need a new social contract that charts a way forward and begins to heal divisions.David J Hornsby, Professor of International Affairs and the Associate Vice-President (Teaching and Learning), Carleton UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1095822019-01-10T13:36:09Z2019-01-10T13:36:09ZThe University of Cape Town’s recent history matters as much as its past<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/253047/original/file-20190109-32151-1kcarwu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">UCT will honour Sarah Baartman by naming a hall after her.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia Commons</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The crown jewel in <a href="http://www.uct.ac.za/">University of Cape Town’s (UCT’s)</a> symmetrically pleasing main campus is its hall. The campus lies in linear regularity against the iconic backdrop of Devil’s Peak, part of the spectacular mountain range that circles the city. The triangular parapet of the hall reaches for the peak even as its steps cascade down towards the busy streets of Rondebosch, the suburb below. </p>
<p>With UCT ranking as the <a href="http://www.uct.ac.za/main/research/rankings">top university on the continent</a>, this stock image has come to symbolise more than just one campus, but African excellence itself.</p>
<p>The physical view of the campus changed forever in 2015, with the removal of the brooding statue of British colonialist <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/people/cecil-john-rhodes">Cecil John Rhodes</a> at the <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-32236922">foot of the staircase</a>. Now, in 2019, the scene will change symbolically too. Jameson Memorial Hall stands, but its name falls: going forward, it will be known as the <a href="https://www.news24.com/SouthAfrica/News/uct-renames-jammie-memorial-hall-to-sarah-baartman-hall-20181213">Sarah Baartman Hall</a>. <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/people/sara-saartjie-baartman">Baartman</a>, a Khoi woman sold into slavery and eventually exhibited as a curiosity in England in the late 18th Century, has long been a powerful symbolic figure in contemporary South Africa. This remarkable UCT turnabout moves the commemoration narrative. As the <a href="https://www.news.uct.ac.za/article/-2018-12-13-renaming-memorial-hall-sarah-baartman-hall">official UCT announcement</a> notes, </p>
<blockquote>
<p>it is fitting that Baartman, a victim of colonial inhumanity, should replace a perpetrator of colonial crimes.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The announcement was made by incoming Vice-Chancellor Mamokgethi Phakeng in her December 2018 robing ceremony. It had, in fact, been in the works from <a href="https://theconversation.com/decolonisation-debate-is-a-chance-to-rethink-the-role-of-universities-63840">2015’s Fallism protest movement</a>. At the time then-Vice-Chancellor Max Price created a task team and <a href="https://www.news.uct.ac.za/article/-2016-06-23-council-agrees-to-change-name-of-jameson-hall">invited renaming suggestions</a>. At that point, Jameson Hall, named after Rhodes’ political ally <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/people/dr-leander-starr-jameson">Leander Starr Jameson</a>, was temporarily given the generic placeholder of Memorial Hall. This was a gesture to the centrality of institutional memory, but strategically vague as to what kind of memory that should be.</p>
<p>Now, after extensive consultation both within the university community and with Khoi community representatives, the decision has been made. It’s one the university itself is naming “potent” and “historic.” But how radical is it?</p>
<p>It’s undoubtedly encouraging - more than that, exciting - to see UCT nail their colours to the mast in what feels like an embrace of structural transformation, not to mention a powerful signal of a commitment to a <a href="https://theconversation.com/it-will-take-critical-thorough-scrutiny-to-truly-decolonise-knowledge-78477">decolonial</a> agenda.</p>
<p>Yet I have reservations.</p>
<h2>A much deeper problem</h2>
<p>Let us be frank: Sarah Baartman Hall is not named as an abstract decolonial gesture. It’s not a simple symbolic reference to a closed chapter of history, chosen at random from hundreds of alumni submissions. It is so named explicitly because of the direct trauma that people of colour experienced from the ongoing campus exhibition of an underclad statue of Baartman from 2000 to 2018 in the Science and Technology section of the main library. The statue stood not 200 metres from the main hall. </p>
<p>These are not marginal concerns: in response to <a href="https://www.news24.com/SouthAfrica/News/quarrel-over-sarah-baartman-sculpture-at-uct-20180303">escalating and often powerfully performative campus protests</a>, the UCT public artworks committee held an interactive exhibition of the statue last year entitled <a href="https://www.news.uct.ac.za/article/-2018-09-21-dignifying-sarah-baartman">“Sarah ‘Saartjie’ Baartman: a Call to Respond.”</a></p>
<p>More, the Hall is named because of the repeated strategies students adopted, including the use of the statue to expose, as it were, the hostility of an under-transformed university environment where they themselves continued to feel unwelcome, a curiosity. The statue, by Willie Bester, was exhibited as recently as October 4 last year. The uneasy campus culture is ongoing.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/253031/original/file-20190109-32124-9u8ew5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/253031/original/file-20190109-32124-9u8ew5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/253031/original/file-20190109-32124-9u8ew5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/253031/original/file-20190109-32124-9u8ew5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/253031/original/file-20190109-32124-9u8ew5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/253031/original/file-20190109-32124-9u8ew5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/253031/original/file-20190109-32124-9u8ew5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ian Barbour</span></span>
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<p>There surely can be no Sarah Baartman Hall without acknowledgement of Sarah Baartman’s entwined history with the land – and legacy – of Rhodes at the institution. Yet these potent contestations are entirely absent from the <a href="https://www.news.uct.ac.za/article/-2018-12-13-renaming-memorial-hall-sarah-baartman-hall">university’s announcement</a> of the name change. This frames Baartman’s “humiliation” as ending in 2002 with the restitution of her remains from France’s <em>Musée de l'Homme</em> and <a href="http://www.baviaans.net/listing/sarah-bartman">ceremonial interment in Hankey, Eastern Cape </a>.</p>
<p>There is no mention of Bester’s statue, no mention of the countless protests, debates and performative interventions staged around the symbolism of Baartman’s body that have marked the past 18 years of campus engagement with the statue.</p>
<p>Baartman’s name can be elevated to the highest point of the campus, but if it is not accepted that her legacy is built into every brick, each classroom and every interaction, the honour is more than hollow, it is inappropriate. Baartman has, after all, been the figurehead for countless ideologies, both in and out of her time. To place her historic name on a building while eliding the contemporary pain that prompted this naming from its origin story is to make Sarah Baartman once again an object to gaze at in a centre of learning.</p>
<h2>The alternative</h2>
<p>But that doesn’t have to be the case. For this gesture to stand in the spirit for which it was clearly (and commendably) chosen, the university must own its own institutional complicity in Baartman’s – and South Africa’s – loaded history and institutional culture that continue to alienate students and staff of colour from fully being at home on campus. To move forward meaningfully there must be a frank acknowledgement that Rhodes’ legacy did not end in 2015 and a clear commitment to practical as well as symbolic change.</p>
<p>The naming decision has garnered overwhelmingly positive responses, with graduating students taking to social media in droves, expressing what it meant to them to graduate in a hall bearing the name of Baartman. I certainly share this joy. But we shouldn’t let the renaming of a hall overshadow the need for careful institutional and self-examination. </p>
<p>The Vice Chancellor has demonstrated a powerful understanding of being the change she wants to see at UCT. Her donation of part of her inauguration budget to pay student debt was a remarkable combination of symbolic and deeply practical gesture. Under her leadership, the university must surely be best placed to open up space for transformation, not close down debate.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/109582/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Carla Lever receives funding from the American Society of Theatre Research (ASTR) to research statue-based protest and performance in SA and the US. She is a research fellow at the University of Cape Town, examining protest, spectacle and commemoration in Cape Town.</span></em></p>Sarah Baartman’s name can be elevated to the highest point of the University of Cape Town’s campus, but if her legacy isn’t built into each classroom and interaction the honour is hollow.Carla Lever, Research Fellow at the Nelson Mandela School of Public Governance, University of Cape TownLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1052212018-10-31T14:03:02Z2018-10-31T14:03:02ZSouth African universities shouldn’t be playing the global rankings game<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/241613/original/file-20181022-105782-128w9cw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">South African universities need to shift their focus away from rankings.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Once again, Times Higher Education’s annual global <a href="https://www.timeshighereducation.com/world-university-rankings/2019/world-ranking#!/page/0/length/25/sort_by/rank/sort_order/asc/cols/stats">university rankings</a> have drawn a lot of attention from the media and in the higher education sector. In South Africa, this has focused on the four institutions from the country that made the top 500 on the 2019 list.</p>
<p>Of the four, the University of KwaZulu-Natal maintained its 2018 ranking. The other three – the Universities of Cape Town, Witwatersrand and Stellenbosch – improved. The University of Cape Town moved from 171 to 156, keeping its place in the top 200.</p>
<p>But what does this signify? Has the quality of these universities’ offering improved? Is there a correlation between quality and ranking? Far from it. All it indicates is that in the 2019 rankings, they performed better on either one or all of the criteria used in determining rankings. </p>
<p>For instance, if a university received a major research grant for 2019, its research income increased. That’s one of the criteria used and so it climbs in the rankings. But it tells us nothing about the quality of research at that institution.</p>
<p>The ranking system is based on a snapshot of institutional performance in a given year. It’s a zero-sum game: a gain by one institution is necessarily a loss by another.</p>
<p>And as Chris Brink, a former university Vice-Chancellor, <a href="https://bristoluniversitypress.co.uk/the-soul-of-a-university">shows</a>, the rankings have no scientific validity. He points out that the different ranking systems – Times Higher Education is just one among many – produce different results based on the criteria used and the weighting assigned to each. A small change in the weighting results in significant changes in an institution’s ranking. </p>
<p>South African universities need to stop playing the game. There is no reason to. The government exerts no pressure on universities around rankings. The problem is that South Africa has a fixation on becoming “world class”. This is indicative of a lack of self-confidence in its own abilities and competence; a hangover from the isolation of the apartheid past and a colonial inheritance.</p>
<h2>The wrong priorities</h2>
<p>Rankings have perverse and distorting effects on the role and function of institutions in national higher education systems.</p>
<p>Research is a key criterion for rankings. This discourages institutional diversity. All institutions strive for research-intensive status irrespective of their context, capacity and resources. This has been the main stumbling block to creating the sort of differentiated system that’s needed to address South Africa’s knowledge and skills needs. </p>
<p>Differentiation would be based on a continuum of institutional types: some offering vocational and technical diplomas; others focused on undergraduate formative and professional degrees; and the research-intensive institutions focusing on postgraduate degrees and research. </p>
<p>But a differentiated system remains elusive. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, teaching is undervalued. Meeting research output targets is the key performance indicator. This generates income and boosts rankings. Senior professors, who tend to be more research productive, are often absolved from undergraduate teaching to focus on research. This diminishes the students’ learning experience. They are not exposed to developments at the cutting-edge of their chosen field of study to excite their curiosity and interest. </p>
<p>Finally, the criteria used in all the ranking systems – research outputs and income, staff-student ratios, international staff and students, staff qualifications, Nobel laureates and so on – are biased in favour of institutions in the developed world. And while some developing countries such as China are <a href="http://www.universityworldnews.com/article.php?story=20170905140031381">making inroads</a> into the top 100, this is due to sustained and high levels of economic growth. This has enabled large investments in higher education that’s beyond the reach of developing countries in general.</p>
<p>It’s time for South African universities to remove themselves from this game. But why are they playing in the first place?</p>
<h2>Time to refocus</h2>
<p>The standard institutional response is that the rankings matter to students, parents and employers. It matters because institutions make it matter. They highlight their rankings (and how they compare to other institutions) for competitive reasons, trying to attract the best and brightest.</p>
<p>But quite frankly for the country’s research-intensive universities, this competition is at the margins. </p>
<p>Rankings should not be South African universities’ <em>raison d’etre</em>. They should focus on building a quality higher education system that is responsive to the challenges that face South Africa in the 21st century. </p>
<p>This requires a diverse and differentiated higher education system based on institutional collaboration rather than the market-driven competition that results from participation in global rankings. </p>
<p>Professor Adam Habib, the vice-chancellor of the University of the Witwatersrand, has <a href="http://firstthing.dailymaverick.co.za/article?id=129121#.W8mZ9nszbIU">reportedly suggested</a> that South African universities should withdraw from rankings. This is a step in the right direction. Are his colleagues ready to rise to the challenge?</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/105221/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ahmed Essop does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Global university rankings are based on a snapshot of institutional performance. A gain by one institution is a loss by another.Ahmed Essop, Research Associate in Higher Education Policy and Planning, Ali Mazrui Centre for Higher Education Studies, University of JohannesburgLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1014942018-08-23T13:52:50Z2018-08-23T13:52:50ZAfter a slow start, South Africa can still speed ahead on SDGs. Here’s how<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232476/original/file-20180817-165967-14oahr2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">South Africa is struggling to eradicate poverty.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">EPA/Nic Bothma</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Three years ago 193 member states of the United Nations adopted the world’s most ambitious set of development goals yet. The 17 Sustainable Development Goals <a href="https://sustainabledevelopment.un.org/post2015/transformingourworld">(SDGs)</a> cover everything from eradicating poverty to protecting biodiversity, building resilient infrastructure and fostering responsive institutions.</p>
<p>The commitment on the part of both developed and developing countries to meet the goals isn’t in question. But many are struggling to make sure the 2030 targets are met.</p>
<p>Some of the biggest barriers to implementation are policy incoherence and ensuring that policy making <a href="https://theconversation.com/six-barriers-that-make-it-difficult-for-african-states-to-use-research-for-policy-86492">is informed by evidence</a>.</p>
<p>In addition, the SDGs require governments to stop <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1002/sd.1745">developing policy in silos</a> and to start working across departments. This a challenge for most, if not all. </p>
<p>South Africa too has been relatively slow in implementing the ambitious SDGs. There are a number of reasons for the slow start. </p>
<p>Like many middle-income countries, it too struggles to coordinate policy initiatives. Also, national priorities’ emphases differ from those of the SDGs. This shouldn’t be surprising. Many of the country’s developmental challenges are the result of a particular part of history, notably the legacy of <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/article/history-apartheid-south-africa">apartheid</a>.</p>
<p>In <a href="http://sasdghub.org/new-publication-implementing-the-sdgs-in-south-africa/">a recent publication</a> by the <a href="http://sasdghub.org">South African SDG Hub</a>, a national facility aimed at fostering evidence-informed policy making, experts from government, academia and development partners highlight further constraints to progress. This includes the poor state of the government’s research and analytical capacity, policy uncertainty, and the fact that the country doesn’t invest enough in science, technology and innovation.</p>
<p>Yet, despite the relatively slow start, South Africa has the capacity to speed up implementing the goals. A practical motivation for doing so is that it’s due to present its first <a href="https://sustainabledevelopment.un.org/vnrs/">voluntary national review</a> next year. This is basically a report card on progress on the implementation of the SDGs. </p>
<h2>Picking up speed</h2>
<p>The three most important items on the country’s to do list are to:</p>
<ul>
<li><p>finalise a national SDG coordination mechanism</p></li>
<li><p>build on existing momentum in the public, private and civil society sectors, and</p></li>
<li><p>capitalise on the expertise at universities.</p></li>
</ul>
<p><strong>National SDG coordination mechanism</strong>: Effective coordination is a must-have for any country interested in realising the SDGs.</p>
<p>A <a href="http://sasdghub.org/features-of-effective-sdg-co-ordination-mechanisms-emerging-good-practices/">recent report</a> by the South African SDG Hub collected and synthesised good practices from around the globe. It also identified features needed to build an effective national coordination mechanism. </p>
<p>Arguably the most important one is political buy-in at the highest level. In countries with the expressed support from their heads of state, progress is quicker. Without such high level support, such a mechanism will struggle to drive the implementation of the SDGs. </p>
<p>Experiences in other countries have shown that inclusivity is also important. This means that academia, civil society and the private sector should be represented. They must also be able to make a substantive contribution to national implementation of the SDGs. </p>
<p>Additionally, the participation of non-state actors will assist with awareness-raising across layers of society. Bringing together this wealth of expertise and experience will enable reliable recommendations. </p>
<p><strong>Existing momentum:</strong> Simply put, the growing number of activities aimed at realising the SDGs need to be connected.</p>
<p>In many ways the South African government is already addressing the SDGs, albeit indirectly. This includes initiatives aimed at using technology to <a href="http://www.health.gov.za/index.php/mom-connect">improve maternal health</a>as well as <a href="https://www.education.gov.za/Programmes/QualityAssuranceandSkillsDevelopment.aspx">quality of education</a> to <a href="http://www.nda.agric.za/docs/media/NATIONAL%20POLICYon%20food%20and%20nutrirition%20security.pdf">improving food security</a>. On a technical level, <a href="http://www.statssa.gov.za">Statistics South Africa</a> has launched a baseline indicator report on the SDGs.</p>
<p>Civil society and the private sector are also increasingly focusing on the SDGs. Many initiatives can be cited, notably innovative programmes aimed at addressing <a href="https://www.yes4youth.co.za">youth unemployment</a>, and promoting <a href="https://www.yasdg.com">youth entrepreneurship</a>.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, many of these and other SDG initiatives remain disconnected. Creating synergies shouldn’t be difficult though. The trick lies in mapping, connecting and supporting what’s already out there.</p>
<p><strong>University expertise:</strong> Universities have the expertise and, more often than not, the motivation to support the realisation of the SDGs.</p>
<p>According to a <a href="http://ap-unsdsn.org/regional-initiatives/universities-sdgs/university-sdg-guide/">report</a> by the <a href="http://unsdsn.org/">Sustainable Development Solutions Network</a>, the premier academic network that supports the SDGs, universities can equip students with the knowledge and skills to implement complex development agendas. In their research, they have the opportunity to experiment with innovative and multidisciplinary solutions. And, as relatively neutral convening spaces, universities can initiate and facilitate cross-sectoral dialogue.</p>
<h2>Towards 2030</h2>
<p>Despite its weaknesses, the 2030 Agenda has the potential to improve the lives of South Africa’s most vulnerable groups and individuals. This is especially so in the current environment, wherein resources are constrained. But in order to do so, society needs to coordinate and support existing activities and expertise better.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/101494/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Willem Fourie co-ordinates the South African SDG Hub at the University of Pretoria.</span></em></p>Despite a relatively slow start, South Africa can speed up its implementation of the SDGs.Willem Fourie, Associate Professor at the Albert Luthuli Centre for Responsible Leadership, Co-ordinator of the South African SDG Hub, University of PretoriaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/965532018-05-28T13:47:31Z2018-05-28T13:47:31ZUniversity writing groups provide an unexpected space for change<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/219380/original/file-20180517-155558-9x8fcj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">ZephyrMedia/Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/0260293930180102">a seminal paper</a> on what constitutes quality in education, scholars Lee Harvey and Diana Green argue that a “quality education” is one in which a student experiences a “personal transformation” as a result of enhancing and empowering mechanisms. </p>
<p>They claim that students are “enhanced” when they are positioned at the centre of the learning and assessment process, and are “empowered” through being involved in the decision-making around their own transformation. </p>
<p>Such transformation conversations, especially in African contexts, almost always include contested debates on <a href="http://hdl.handle.net/10520/EJC132752">curriculum</a>. Notably, scholars have highlighted how the problem is not only what universities teach – that is, the curriculum – but also the way they teach it. This refers to ways of teaching that can sufficiently engage with and problematise “normal” practices in higher education spaces.</p>
<p>So the question becomes: what can universities do to enhance both personal and curriculum transformation?</p>
<p>We set about answering this question in <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/07294360.2018.1450361">a study</a> about university writing groups. These groups are inspiring and empowering spaces run by and for students. Here, students use feedback from peers to develop their writing practices. It’s a collaborative and collegial environment.</p>
<p>Writing groups might also have unexpected benefits for transformation, as <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/07294360.2018.1450361">our research</a> has shown. In South Africa, calls for the decolonisation of university practices and curriculum have dominated transformation conversations. Writing groups provide a space where students can learn and engage with these complex issues. </p>
<p>Our study focused on a writing group programme at a research-intensive university in South Africa. Data from the initial pilot programme as well as the 13 current groups were collected through anonymous reviews and interviews with participants. The groups are multidisciplinary in composition although we made a general divide between the Natural Sciences and Humanities. Each group consists of between six and eight students with meetings co-ordinated by a PhD student or post-doctoral fellow.</p>
<p>Our findings show that writing groups can play a key role in transforming students by providing a space where their own “voice” can be developed in their writing. Developing a sense of voice is a difficult part of academic writing and takes a lot of practice. The regular, constructive and encouraging feedback from peers and the long-term, ongoing interaction provides a consistent and supportive network that students value. This suggests steps towards transformation in both the way we teach academic writing and the individual student’s writing practices. </p>
<p>We found that the collegial “safe space” offered by writing groups allows for students’ emotional well-being to be actively supported by a committed community of scholars. Being untied from evaluation, students can engage freely without risk of judgement. Writing groups are also seen to provide a space for students to experiment with, and explore their changing identities.</p>
<h2>Altering practice</h2>
<p>The teaching structure of writing groups is also important; these are not “top-down” spaces. Rather, they are organised, maintained and led by the students themselves; creating an egalitarian setting where students can develop their practices in a flexible, supportive environment.</p>
<p>But perhaps of most interest was the ways in which the writing groups also played a key role in transforming practice. </p>
<p>Multidisciplinary groups are <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/07294360902725025">particularly useful</a> for making disciplinary practices explicit to students because they highlight how academics in different subjects write in different ways.</p>
<p>Challenging and negotiating the choices made in their writing exposes students to how writing reflects disciplinary norms and values – that is, particular ways of being and doing in academia. This enables students to start recognising that there is not only one way of “doing”. It incites them to start challenging the norm. </p>
<p>For example, Natural Science writing tends to be more objective and detached. Humanities tends to be more subjective, with claims being justified according to the theoretical perspective being used. The differences in the kinds of knowledge being made in different fields plays out in myriad differences in style and tone. </p>
<p>Writing groups also provide a space where many of the “rules of the game” of academia became revealed to students. They provide invaluable opportunities for these different rules and conventions to be debated, unpacked and challenged by students in ways that standard learning platforms or teaching spaces cannot achieve to the same degree.</p>
<h2>Questioning and challenging</h2>
<p>Our research suggests that writing groups provide an ideal space where personal transformation can occur. They not only provide support for student writing through feedback activities, they also put the onus of writing support back into the hands of the students themselves. This enhances students by putting them at the centre of decision-making around their learning and empowering them to take a proactive approach in their development and transformation into academic scholars.</p>
<p>While writing groups are not a panacea for the complex academic literacy challenges students face in transforming university contexts, they can and do play a valuable role in providing a transformative space for postgraduate students to learn, question and challenge.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/96553/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Writing groups provide a space where the “rules of the game” of academia become clear.Kirstin Wilmot, PhD Candidate, University of SydneySioux McKenna, Director of PG Studies & Higher Education Studies PhD Co-ordinator, Rhodes UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/927512018-04-15T08:44:40Z2018-04-15T08:44:40ZA more flexible curriculum approach can support student success<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/208653/original/file-20180302-65516-ll6cxo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=2%2C4%2C995%2C672&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Young people don't always know exactly what they want to study, or what their interests are. Flexibility helps.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Rawpixel.com/Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Financial access is extremely important for poor and working class students wanting to get a foot in the door at universities. But on its own this isn’t a guarantee of success.</p>
<p>South Africa has very poor student throughput (that is, from enrolment to graduation) and low retention rates in <a href="http://www.che.ac.za/">undergraduate education</a>. Only 30% of students complete a three-year bachelor’s degree in three years. And less than two-thirds complete within an <a href="http://che.ac.za/sites/default/files/publications/CHE_South%20African%20higher%20education%20reviewed%20-%20electronic_1.pdf">additional two years</a>. </p>
<p>A <a href="http://www.africanminds.co.za/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/9781928331698_web.pdf">recent study</a> of students’ experiences in BA and BSc degree programmes found that curriculum structure and flexibility can play a crucial role in students’ progression and success.</p>
<p>The study traced the influence of higher education on the lives of 73 young people who had registered for a BA or BSc at one of three South African universities. In-depth interviews were carried out with them six years after their first year at university.</p>
<p>We found that most students didn’t enter university with fully formed ideas of their interests and strengths. The experience of knowing exactly what they wanted to do, coming to university and seamlessly doing it, was rare.</p>
<p>Our study found that flexibility in the structure of BA and BSc degrees was important. It helped students to find their strengths and passions, and to allow them to change direction during the degree if they needed to. This in turn helped them complete their studies.</p>
<p>In narrowly specified programmes with limited choice or flexibility, students could be left feeling trapped in programmes that no longer matched their interests or strengths. </p>
<h2>Different experiences</h2>
<p>Curriculum structure in the formative science and arts degrees varies substantially across the country’s universities. Some universities offer flexibility of subject choice within the BA and BSc degree structures (taking into account prerequisites for senior courses), or even the choice of a few electives in other faculties. </p>
<p>In at least one university in South Africa, students can select a mixture of BA and BSc subjects, in a very flexible, <a href="https://eric.ed.gov/?id=ED415738">liberal arts type approach</a>. Including Philosophy in a Science degree, taking Zoology with Psychology, or Law with Geography, allows students to engage with a broad spectrum of concepts and ways of thinking. </p>
<p>Other institutions have more highly specified offerings - for example, a BA in Tourism, or a BSc in Biological Sciences. These sort of programmes were introduced in some South African universities in the early 2000s, in response to <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1023/B:HIGH.0000035544.96309.f1">a policy move</a> away from the traditional bachelor degree. </p>
<p>This was intended to make undergraduate degrees more “relevant” and to lead more directly to particular employment options. In these rigid degree programmes, subjects are tightly specified with little room for choice of elective modules or for curriculum flexibility. </p>
<p>Our study found that flexibility really helped students. This is not surprising, considering that most of the young people we interviewed came from schools that offered limited career guidance. Also, many are first in their families to enter university; they have <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-class-and-social-capital-affect-university-students-92602">limited family experiences</a> of higher education to draw on.</p>
<p>Change in direction of study was easier for those in BA programmes, since the BA rules of subject combination allowed for more wrong choices and changes in direction without leading to an extra year of studying.</p>
<p>This is to be expected as the sciences have hierarchical knowledge structures: senior BSc courses have junior courses as prerequisites. Failure in key first year science courses meant that students could be barred from progressing to the second year of study. If there was no chance to retake these courses during the year, a whole extra year of study was required. </p>
<p>So what can universities learn from these students’ experiences?</p>
<h2>Rethinking structure</h2>
<p>There has already been one significant proposal around curriculum restructuring in South African universities; it suggested lengthening the three-year bachelor’s <a href="http://che.ac.za/sites/default/files/publications/Full_Report.pdf">degree to four years</a>. This is unlikely to be adopted given the current financial pressures on the country’s higher education sector. </p>
<p>But we do think there is still scope to address some curriculum issues our study has highlighted within the current BA and BSc structures.</p>
<p>Universities should know that students don’t enter higher education with a full sense of their strengths and interests. A curriculum needs to make some trial and error possible. Professional degrees such as medicine or engineering may need a more specified curriculum, but the relative flexibility in the formative BA and BSc degrees is important. This allows students to try out different disciplines and find their passions.</p>
<p>In a degree with limited choices and, at some universities, very fixed prerequisites, many students fall by the wayside and can’t easily get back on track. For these students, mounting debt tends to compound the challenge of academic progression.</p>
<p>The academic year could also be better structured to enable flexibility. Vacation periods could be used for students who need time to resit assessments, repeat prerequisite modules or attend credit-bearing summer schools. This would support students’ progression through the curriculum.</p>
<h2>Flexibility matters</h2>
<p>A more flexible programme, coupled with strong <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-universities-need-to-invest-in-strong-advice-systems-for-students-92750">academic advising structures</a>, allows young people to find their strengths and interests – and to change direction, if need be. </p>
<p>It can also allow them to develop the sort of <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/higher-education-network/blog/2013/aug/12/students-interdisciplinary-teaching-research-university">interdisciplinary perspectives</a> needed to address the key issues facing society in the 21st century.</p>
<p>Universities will need to rethink curriculum structures to enable rather than constrain students’ success and progression through higher education. </p>
<p><em>This is an edited abstract from “Going to University: The influence of Higher Education on the lives of young South Africans” (2018) Case, J., Marshall, D., McKenna, S. & Mogashana, D. African Minds. Available for <a href="http://www.africanminds.co.za/dd-product/going-to-university-the-influence-of-higher-education-on-the-lives-of-young-south-africans/">download here</a>.</em></p>
<p><em>The other authors of the book from which this piece is extracted are Professor Jenni Case (Head of Department of Engineering Education at Virginia Tech), Professor Sioux McKenna (Head of Postgraduate Studies at Rhodes University) and Dr Disaapele Mogashana (student success coach and consultant at <a href="http://www.mytsi.co.za/">True Success Institute</a>).</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/92751/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors of the book 'Going to University: The influence of higher education on the lives of young South Africans' are grateful for the financial support of the NRF.</span></em></p>Curriculum structure and flexibility can play a crucial role in students’ progression and success.Delia Marshall, Professor, Department of Physics and Astronomy, University of the Western CapeLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/927502018-03-14T14:32:54Z2018-03-14T14:32:54ZWhy universities need to invest in strong advice systems for students<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/209505/original/file-20180308-30965-1sds1h3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Proper guidance, support and advice can help university students enormously.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Monkey Business Images/Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>It is relatively rare for a young person to leave school knowing on their own exactly what they want to do next. And, even if they do, it’s unusual to seamlessly and independently go to university, complete the degree of their choosing, graduate, and move into the working world.</p>
<p>For most young people the world beyond school is complicated. They need a great deal of support – particularly from their families and universities – to navigate their higher education choices. This is borne out by <a href="http://www.africanminds.co.za/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/9781928331698_web.pdf">a recent study</a> which tracked the experiences of 73 students who, some six years before, had started bachelor’s studies at one of three research-intensive South African universities.</p>
<p>The study focused on how young people navigate the opportunities and constraints of university study. One of the key findings was that the country’s universities seem mostly to have limited capacity for giving students advice about academic choices. In some other parts of the world, most notably the US, <a href="https://www.wiley.com/en-za/Academic+Advising:+A+Comprehensive+Handbook,+2nd+Edition-p-9780470371701">this is a whole field of expertise within a university</a>, with dedicated staff focused solely on giving students advice.</p>
<p>There is substantial literature showing the <a href="https://works.bepress.com/samuel_museus/12/">positive effects of academic advising</a> on student retention and progress, especially for those from underrepresented groups in higher education.</p>
<p>As we <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-class-and-social-capital-affect-university-students-92602">point out elsewhere</a> in the book on which this research is based, many of the students we interviewed didn’t have the support structures at home that could offer informed advice about issues such as the choice of institution, degree, funding routes. Proper advisory systems in universities can be especially helpful in this context. </p>
<p>It’s not easy. South Africa’s universities are dealing with a <a href="https://www.iol.co.za/saturday-star/dispelling-myths-around-higher-education-funding-12947553">huge resource crunch</a> and it takes money to set up many of the systems that would be needed. </p>
<p>But it’s a worthwhile investment. Universities that can formalise academic advising and make it more accessible are likely to see better results in students progressing from enrolment to graduation. </p>
<h2>Some interventions</h2>
<p>While few universities appear to have formal, full-time advising structures, there are one-off or informal interventions at some South African institutions.</p>
<p>At one institution for example, there were sample introductory lectures at the start of the year. Students found this very helpful though they pointed out that attending just one lecture wasn’t necessarily enough to make a fully informed decision about whether to pursue that course or degree path.</p>
<p>Some universities also allowed students to change courses within the first few weeks of the academic year. But this can be tricky because students then need to make up what they’ve missed.</p>
<p>Some students spoke of establishing a rapport with individual lecturers and even their deans. This meant they could discuss their plans and choices with someone who was well informed. But this was relatively rare at the larger universities and was left largely to chance – requiring both students with confidence and initiative, and supportive, engaged academics</p>
<p>It also wasn’t always a successful approach: in our study we did hear of situations where the advice students received from academics was incorrect or even insulting. One student who was struggling in a science degree, for example, was told that she was a “pretty girl” and maybe she should change to a degree in education.</p>
<h2>Flexibility</h2>
<p>Some work is being done in South Africa to improve the situation. The National Student Financial Aid System is <a href="http://www.nsfas.org.za/content/publications/FINAL%20-%20A%20NSFAS%20Response%20to%20the%20MTT%20Missing%20Middle%20Report%2031%20January%202017.pdf">looking at models</a> for more broader support for the students it funds. This is good news, since these students are often those whose families may not have the social capital and information to support their decisions. </p>
<p>Another thing that universities should consider is a more flexible curriculum structure. Our research also found that where the curriculum is fairly fixed and university rules preclude much movement between programmes, there is little opportunity for navigating a successful pathway. This is a problem for students who only become aware of their skills and passions along the way and wish to change their degree course. A flexible curriculum coupled with strong advice structures could make a real difference to such students.</p>
<p>_This is an edited abstract from “Going to University: The influence of Higher Education on the lives of young South Africans” (2018) Case, J., Marshall, D., McKenna, S. & Mogashana, D. African Minds. Available for <a href="http://www.africanminds.co.za/dd-product/going-to-university-the-influence-of-higher-education-on-the-lives-of-young-south-africans/">download here</a>. </p>
<p><em>The other authors of the book from which this piece is extracted are Professor Sioux McKenna (Head of Postgraduate Studies, Rhodes University), Professor Delia Marshall (Faculty of Natural Science at the University of the Western Cape) and Dr Disaapele Mogashana (student success coach and consultant at <a href="http://www.mytsi.co.za/">True Success Institute</a>).</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/92750/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors of the book 'Going to University: The influence of higher education on the lives of young South Africans' are grateful for the financial support of the NRF.</span></em></p>Formal, accessible academic advice systems can help university graduation rates.Jennifer M. Case, Department Head and Professor, Department of Engineering Education, Virginia TechLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/926022018-03-06T14:59:24Z2018-03-06T14:59:24ZHow class and social capital affect university students<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/208477/original/file-20180301-152575-1494gth.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=44%2C160%2C849%2C837&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Work hard, read your books, and university will be a breeze...or will it? </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>There’s a great deal of comfort to be had in the idea that success at university is primarily or exclusively the result of a student’s hard work. All that’s needed is for students to do their best and fairness will prevail. Students who don’t apply themselves will fail. End of story. </p>
<p>Or is it?</p>
<p>A far more complex picture of student success and failure has emerged from <a href="http://www.africanminds.co.za/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/9781928331698_web.pdf">a study</a> tracking the influence of higher education on young people’s lives. We worked with 73 people who first registered for a BA or BSc six years before the data was collected. They had pursued these degrees at three South African research-intensive universities.</p>
<p>Many of the participants shared a strong sense that their university years had provided them with access to powerful knowledge. They felt better able to act in ways aligned to their values and goals. But not all had been able to attain this overwhelmingly positive experience equally. Social class – as well as a range of other factors in the institutions themselves – played a huge role in people’s experiences of accessing and succeeding in higher education, and then getting into the workplace.</p>
<p>Those from impoverished rural settlements or towns, or from peri-urban townships, experienced far more significant hurdles than their urban, middle-class counterparts. This was in part about connections: middle-class, urban students were able to draw on networks before, during and after university. So they tended to enjoy shorter, smoother routes through the institution.</p>
<p>This finding is neither new, <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/212017/the-tyranny-of-the-meritocracy-by-lani-guinier/9780807078129/">nor specific to South Africa</a>. The study refutes common sense explanations of higher education success and failure that continue to dominate in our <a href="https://digitalcommons.georgiasouthern.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1391&context=ij-sotl">universities</a>. These understand higher education success to be predominantly a function of attributes inherent in the individual. Failure is understood to result from the student’s <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/03075079.2015.1072148">lack of such attributes</a>. </p>
<p>Similarly, common sense explanations <a href="http://cristal.epubs.ac.za/index.php/cristal/article/view/80">conceptualise universities</a> as being acultural, apolitical spaces where people acquire skills. This maintains the fiction that higher education is a <a href="http://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674088023&content=reviews">meritocracy</a> which fairly rewards individual students’ hard work, motivation, “language skills” and intelligence.</p>
<p>Our data shows the institutional culture, the curriculum structure, teaching and learning approaches, and family support and relatives’ own knowledge of how universities work all played a role in students’ making their way through the system.</p>
<p>Our findings raise a number of concerns for institutions – and individuals – who would like to see fair opportunities for young people wanting to advance their education. </p>
<h2>Family support</h2>
<p>In South Africa, as in similar economies, it is a huge investment for a family to have a young person who is not earning for a number of years after school, and who might also add costs to the household during this period. </p>
<p>The families of some of the participants were able to manage this investment. Some funded their studies through a combination of resources from bursaries, family, or part-time work.</p>
<p>Others, though, came from families with absolutely no financial flexibility and were frequently in financial crisis. This pressure took a toll on the students’ academic progress. Even those who had some funding from the <a href="http://www.nsfas.org.za/content/">National Student Financial Aid Scheme</a> struggled: they had no safety net for any crisis. It took a great deal of energy to manage their basic financial requirements. </p>
<p>But the extent to which the family was able to foster aspirations and engage with the young person’s deliberations and choices was perhaps even more important than financial support. </p>
<p>The data showed that having people with whom to discuss their decisions played a very important role in participants’ higher education journey. This meant having informed people – not necessarily graduates themselves – to talk through their choices. </p>
<p>For instance, a young person might not get access to their first choice of university, and could turn to relatives for discussions and alternative ideas. A more challenging experience for some participants was when they failed academically in their chosen degree and had to figure out a new course of action. </p>
<p>Much of this kind of understanding came from another family member’s experience of going to university. But it was also closely tied to <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/0142569042000236952">cultural capital</a>: social class played <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/01425692.2011.527723">a significant role</a>. The transition to the expectations of the university, to its peculiar and discipline specific knowledge making practices for example, is difficult for all students. But access to these powerful knowledge practices is uneven and it is a disservice to pretend <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2014/06/08/books/review/degrees-of-inequality-by-suzanne-mettler.html">otherwise</a>. </p>
<p>The social side of university life was also enormously important to these young people, as might be expected. Fitting in, making friends and experiencing campus life were often mentioned. Students from less well-off families sometimes struggled, feeling they had to keep up with more affluent friends in a materialistic culture.</p>
<h2>Cohesion</h2>
<p>How can prospective students from settings where family members or teachers do not have the cultural capital related to university study get support in making decisions? And how can universities assist in attending to these needs once they have made their way into higher education? </p>
<p>While universities can’t attend to all societal problems, the data would suggest that institutions have some role to play in forging social cohesion among their own staff and student body.</p>
<p><em>This is an edited abstract from “Going to University: The influence of Higher Education on the lives of young South Africans” (2018) Case, J., Marshall, D., McKenna, S. & Mogashana, D. African Minds. Available for <a href="http://www.africanminds.co.za/dd-product/going-to-university-the-influence-of-higher-education-on-the-lives-of-young-south-africans/">download here</a>.</em> </p>
<p><em>The other authors of the book from which this piece is extracted are Professor Jenni Case (Head of Department of Engineering Education at Virginia Tech), Professor Delia Marshall (Faculty of Natural Science at the University of the Western Cape) and Dr Disaapele Mogashana (student success coach and consultant at <a href="http://www.mytsi.co.za/">True Success Institute</a>).</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/92602/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors of the book 'Going to University: The influence of higher education on the lives of young South Africans' are grateful for the financial support of the NRF.</span></em></p>Social class plays a huge role in people’s experiences of accessing and succeeding in higher education.Sioux McKenna, Director of PG Studies & Higher Education Studies PhD Co-ordinator, Rhodes UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/921932018-02-27T15:21:17Z2018-02-27T15:21:17ZThe case against free higher education: why it is neither just nor ethical<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/207289/original/file-20180221-132647-1ki41rf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Those demanding free higher education don't realise this would be a regressive policy.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Reuters/Mike Hutchings</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>South Africa’s just-ousted Minister of Finance committed another <a href="http://www.treasury.gov.za/documents/national%20budget/2018/speech/speech.pdf">R57 billion</a> to higher education and training over the next three years. In his first (and last – he was removed from the portfolio less than a week later) budget speech, Malusi Gigaba followed through on former president Jacob Zuma’s <a href="https://www.news24.com/SouthAfrica/News/zuma-announces-free-higher-education-for-poor-and-working-class-students-20171216">controversial promise</a> in December last year of fee-free higher education. </p>
<p>The minister’s announcement is likely to be well-received by those who have supported <a href="https://edition.cnn.com/2015/10/27/africa/fees-must-fall-student-protest-south-africa-explainer/index.html">the demand</a> by relatively small student groups that “Fees Must Fall”. Yet there is a major fault that is ignored by those who favour free higher education. It fails to provide a justification for increased allocation of resources to higher education on the grounds of equity or social justice. </p>
<p>There are <a href="http://www.chet.org.za/presentations/university-cape-town">persuasive</a> <a href="http://www.universityworldnews.com/article.php?story=20160223145336908">arguments</a> that free higher education will be <a href="http://www.universityworldnews.com/article.php?story=20150605131029778">unambiguously regressive</a>. This is because it involves a transfer of resources from lower to higher income individuals within a national population.</p>
<p>This has been evident in certain other African and South American countries, as well as in Western Europe. Some countries do offer free tertiary education. Germany and Norway are current examples. But, first, they are rich in per capita income terms. And, second, “free” is ambiguous because it covers only selected components and not the full cost of this level of education.</p>
<p>Free higher education must be judged inherently regressive. It <a href="http://www.universityworldnews.com/article.php?story=20160223145336908">certainly will contribute</a> to South Africa’s <a href="https://theconversation.com/factcheck-is-south-africa-the-most-unequal-society-in-the-world-48334">already high inequality</a> by international standards. </p>
<h2>From a social justice perspective</h2>
<p>To understand the social justice dimensions of the question requires that attention be paid to the end of the process of higher education, the outcome, not the beginning when the focus is on costs and who bears them.</p>
<p>The bulk of graduates in every higher education system enter the labour force’s upper echelons. This places graduates well up in the top 10% to 15% brackets of the national distribution of earned income. </p>
<p>Most significant from a social justice perspective, university graduates receive considerably more income than the median taxpayer, or those within the median tax bracket, who inhabit the middle of the array of taxable income levels in every country.</p>
<p>This observation applies to <em>direct</em> taxation: personal income tax, company or corporate tax, wealth taxes and estate duty levied on individuals or corporate entities. But the regressive nature of the income transfer to university graduates is even more striking when attention is directed to <em>indirect</em> taxation. Examples include VAT, fuel levies, import and excise duties and a large set of user charges. </p>
<p>Indirect taxes are not levied directly on liable persons or their income generating entities like companies and corporations. Yet ultimately such taxes are paid by all consumers, irrespective of their levels of income, because they are paid by entities who are not individual consumers. This makes them regressive: <em>everyone</em> in South Africa will pay 15% VAT and a higher fuel levy from now on, in line with the <a href="http://www.treasury.gov.za/documents/national%20budget/2018/speech/speech.pdf">2018 budget speech</a>.</p>
<p>Regressive transfers financed by the state – taking from taxpayers and giving to students in the form of free higher education – is the main reason why international examples of free higher education are so few and far between. That is why the <a href="https://jhupbooks.press.jhu.edu/content/financing-higher-education-worldwide">international literature</a> is generally sceptical – even hostile – to demands for free higher education. </p>
<p>One example widely cited is Australia where free higher education was decisively rejected in recent times. When a student loan scheme was under debate there about 20 years ago, the opponents of free higher education coined the slogan: <em>Why should bus drivers pay for the education of lawyers?</em> Why indeed? Today Australia possesses one of the world’s <a href="https://theconversation.com/factcheck-does-australia-run-one-of-the-most-generous-student-loan-schemes-in-the-world-52696">most successful</a> national student loan schemes.</p>
<h2>Social justice matters</h2>
<p>In the real world of course, there are individual students who fall through the net and do not graduate. They miss out on becoming high-earning members of a national labour force. Consequently, a number of once enrolled students end up burdened by debt obtained while studying, either from private sector sources like banks or from the state under a tertiary education loan system.</p>
<p>But these individuals, together with entering higher education students from poor households who are eligible for subsidy from state sources in many countries, must be treated as <em>personal</em> cases. They are judged legitimate or not legitimate candidates for free higher education provided by government. </p>
<p>Each individual case has to be decided on its own merits. But when viewed as a <em>group</em>, usually small in number compared to total enrolment, they certainly do
not constitute a justification for free higher education throughout a given national system.</p>
<p>Another issue that should be a serious concern is that fiscal authorities in a country short of revenue simply cut the allocation to post-school education - universities and technical and vocational colleges. This has been the case for many years in South Africa, and happens because universities and post-school colleges are not an important constituency in the competition for resources. </p>
<p>This has led to <a href="https://chet.org.za/resources/sustainable-higher-education-funding-and-fees-south-africa">chronic underfunding</a>, a fact which has not been recognised by “Fees Must Fall” and free education activists. This is highly likely to continue as a major problem in the future if higher education is held to be nominally “free” in publicly stated policy.</p>
<p>If there are circumstances specific to South African higher education which might justify a claim for more resources to be devoted to post-school education, then these circumstances must be explained upfront and in detail. Thus far no “Free Education Planning Groups” at universities appear to have done so.</p>
<p>Every university has a responsibility to clarify the values by which it functions. This is a responsibility to all its members, as well as to the concerned public outside. The neglect of social justice in South Africa’s ongoing free higher education debate is highly surprising. It is also undermining of the values that must be explicit in the public sector allocation of resources.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/92193/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Sean Archer does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The ethical and political reasons to avoid free higher education are unambiguous.Sean Archer, Research associate, School of Economics, University of Cape TownLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/904742018-01-24T13:53:46Z2018-01-24T13:53:46ZFree higher education in South Africa: cutting through the lies and statistics<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/202804/original/file-20180122-46251-1j5aock.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The fight for free university education in South Africa is entering its fourth year.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Reuters/Siphiwe Sibeko</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Public discussion about higher education funding in South Africa has been beset by numerous fictions and misunderstandings since the Fees Must Fall movement emerged in 2015. These have been compounded by the political opportunism of President Jacob Zuma and his advisors. </p>
<p>In mid-December 2017, with <a href="https://www.businesslive.co.za/bd/national/education/2017-12-16-breaking-news-zuma-blindsided-treasury-in-free-higher-education-decision/">relatively little consultation</a> or planning, Zuma <a href="http://www.presidency.gov.za/press-statements/president%E2%80%99s-response-heher-commission-inquiry-higher-education-and-training">announced</a> that in 2018 free higher education would be provided to all new first year students from families that earn less than R350,000 per year. </p>
<p>Having participated in the <a href="http://www.che.ac.za/sites/default/files/publications/CHE_South%20African%20higher%20education%20reviewed%20-%20electronic_0.pdf">20-year review of South African higher education</a> in 2013, advised parliamentarians on different funding proposals in 2015, and <a href="https://theconversation.com/options-on-the-table-as-south-africa-wrestles-with-funding-higher-education-87688">engaged</a> with a report by the commission Zuma set up to examine fee structures, it’s become apparent to me that it is critical to debunk a number of prevalent myths around higher education funding.</p>
<p>The current public “debates” contain many myths or misconceptions about what free tertiary education would mean, ranging from the implications of free higher education proposals for poverty and inequality to the feasibility of funding such proposals. Unless these myths are unmasked the free higher education debate will remain misguided and likely lead to very different, negative outcomes.</p>
<p>In many respects, Zuma’s free higher education proposal is the worst kind of populism. It’s been sold as a radically progressive policy that can be achieved with no negative consequences. But it will actually do very little for the neediest South Africans. And it could have negative consequences for the stability and progressiveness of public expenditure. </p>
<h2>Busting myths</h2>
<p><strong>Myth 1: Spending on higher education is about helping the poor</strong></p>
<p>When the Fees Must Fall movement emerged, it insisted its fundamental demands were based on concern for poor South Africans. The movement argued that this group was effectively excluded from higher education or disadvantaged in their studies because they could not afford the fees and other costs of studying. </p>
<p>The idea that the movement for free higher education is based on a concern for poor youth is clearly absurd when you consider that <a href="https://theconversation.com/south-africas-feesmustfall-protests-some-inconvenient-truths-67516">only 5%</a> of South Africans aged between 15 and 34 are students in universities, while 34% are unemployed. </p>
<p>A recent, comprehensive evaluation by South African and international academic economists for the World Bank, examined the effect of government spending and taxation on inequality. Using data on who pays taxes and who benefits from different kinds of public spending, it <a href="http://www.econ3x3.org/article/how-much-inequality-reduced-progressive-taxation-and-government-spending">found</a> that higher education was the least progressive of all social expenditure. It did the least to reduce inequality, since higher education benefits only a very small proportion of the population and those who do benefit tend to come from wealthier households than the vast majority of South Africans. </p>
<p><strong>Myth 2: There are no consequences for increasing taxes or increasing borrowing</strong></p>
<p>Even if higher education is not the most progressive way to use public money, some supporters of free higher education have argued that it could be more progressive than existing studies suggest – provided the money is raised from wealthier South Africans. </p>
<p>Strictly speaking, this is true. The problem is that supporters of Fees Must Fall have written about possible ways of raising revenue as if the money is effectively free. Proposals such as “double the <a href="http://www.sars.gov.za/TaxTypes/SDL/Pages/default.aspx">skills levy</a> on companies” or “increase income taxes” are empty; they fail to address the negative consequences of tax increases. </p>
<p>A higher skills levy, paid by firms to fund national training initiatives, means lower profits for firms and potentially less investment. Higher income taxes could lead to greater tax avoidance measures, shifts in how employers remunerate employees, or a reduction in people’s working hours. All these could lead to revenue decreasing. Such dynamics need to at least be taken into account when tabling such proposals. But this has not happened. </p>
<p>The result could be a reliance on taxes, <a href="https://www.businesslive.co.za/bd/economy/2017-11-13-news-analysis-vat-hike-essential-to-plug-hole-in-revenue/">like VAT</a>, that are harder to avoid because they are paid by the vast majority of South Africans. There’s a perverse consequence to all this: “free higher education” could actually increase inequality.</p>
<p>This myth-making has recently been compounded by Zuma’s proposal and its advocacy by one of his advisors, Morris Masutha. </p>
<p><strong>Myth 3: Free higher education will reduce youth unemployment and save on future social spending</strong></p>
<p>Masutha claims that free higher education <a href="https://www.enca.com/south-africa/watch-free-higher-education-funds-itself-says-zuma-education-advisor">will “fund itself”</a>, primarily by reducing future social security spending on social grants and government-built houses. He insists that abolishing fees will lead to higher economic growth. </p>
<p>Given the <a href="http://resep.sun.ac.za/index.php/lmip-conference-presents-new-view-on-challenges-of-tertiary-education-in-sa/">tiny proportion</a> of poor youth who can access higher education through their basic education results, the claim about social expenditure is clearly false. </p>
<p>There is a positive relationship between higher education and economic growth. But the current proposal could only “pay for itself” if it produced dramatically more graduates and so increased their economic contribution. There is no reason to believe an effect of that scale is likely and no modelling has been provided to support such claims. </p>
<p><strong>Myth 4: Zuma’s December 2017 proposal is the best way to help poor and needy students</strong></p>
<p>Zuma’s proposal contains two extremely dishonest components: the definition of “poor and working class” students and the limiting of the policy in 2018 to new first year students.</p>
<p>It effectively proposes that in 2018 a first year student from a family earning R340,000 per year will get full government support. But a second year student from a family earning R130,000 will get no support. And a student from the R340,000/year family will get the same support as a student from a R20,000/year family. </p>
<p>This clearly doesn’t prioritise poor students. </p>
<p>A <a href="https://pmg.org.za/committee-meeting/21700/">rough costing</a> by the Department of Higher Education and Training in 2015 suggested that the threshold could be raised to R217,000 per year for all students. This would benefit more needy students and, at an estimated cost of R12.5billion, been far more feasible than what Zuma has proposed.</p>
<p><strong>Myth 5: Zuma’s proposal is feasible because it “only” costs R12billion - R15billion</strong></p>
<p>Current estimates put the cost of Zuma’s proposal in 2018 at between R12 billion and R15 billion. Some commentators have suggested this cost will remain static in future. That is almost certainly false. </p>
<p>It would only be true if such funding was either not extended to students entering universities in 2019 or was taken away from the 2018 cohort. Neither scenario makes any sense. Instead, funding is likely to be extended to second years in 2019 and third years in 2020. That will likely lead to an annual cost of <a href="https://www.news24.com/SouthAfrica/News/no-comment-sachs-says-over-masuthas-fee-free-lying-claim-20180104">R40billion</a> or more. </p>
<p>An increase of R12 to R15 billion <a href="https://www.fin24.com/Economy/fee-free-university-education-regressive-davis-tax-committee-report-20171113">may be affordable</a>. But a R40billion increase is an entirely different proposition.</p>
<h2>Critical decisions</h2>
<p>Thousands of new students are being registered at universities right now. The 2018 Budget is set to be tabled next month with public finances under extreme pressure. Given this reality, it’s critical that all the myths surrounding “free” higher education are laid to rest.</p>
<p>Only then can difficult decisions be taken in the best interests of all South Africans.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/90474/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Seán Mfundza Muller currently provides advice to civil society groups on public finance issues and is involved in a European Union-funded collaboration to increase, and improve, civil society engagement with legislatures.</span></em></p>In many respects, President Jacob Zuma’s free higher education proposal in South Africa is the worst kind of populism.Seán Mfundza Muller, Senior Lecturer in Economics and Research Associate at the Public and Environmental Economics Research Centre (PEERC), University of JohannesburgLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/876882017-11-19T09:17:35Z2017-11-19T09:17:35ZOptions on the table as South Africa wrestles with funding higher education<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/195208/original/file-20171117-7559-1sfexx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The storm clouds above South Africa's universities could be dissipated with careful fiscal planning.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Reuters/Mike Hutchings</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><a href="http://www.presidency.gov.za/press-statements/release-report-commission-inquiry-feasibility-making-high-education-and-training">A report</a> into the feasibility of offering free higher education at South Africa’s universities has finally been released. It has been nearly two years in the making, developed by a commission of inquiry that President Jacob Zuma set up in response to nationwide fee protests.</p>
<p>The lengthy report provides an accurate diagnosis of the state of higher education funding, as well as the problems it faces. But its proposed solutions are problematic. Many of its limitations arise from a failure to properly integrate an understanding of public finance and public economics into the analysis and recommendations.</p>
<p>The Commission’s report gets two critical things right – even though neither will please student activists. The first is that planned student numbers are simply too high and should be revised downwards. The second is that the country simply can’t afford free higher education for all students given its other priorities and weak economy.</p>
<p>But its recommendations are poor. Models are proposed that represent, I would argue, a significant step backwards from scenarios developed by the Department of Higher Education and Training two years ago. The department’s scenarios are indirectly supported in another report that’s just been released, by the <a href="http://www.taxcom.org.za/docs/20171113%20DTC%20report%20on%20funding%20of%20tertiary%20education%20-%20on%20website.pdf">Davis Tax Committee</a>. </p>
<p>The tax committee endorses a hybrid scheme for higher education funding. This would retain and increase grants for poor students’ university fees. It would use loans to fund the “<a href="https://theconversation.com/in-south-africa-university-is-open-to-rich-and-poor-but-what-about-the-missing-middle-36801">missing middle</a>” – students from households that earn too much to qualify for government funding but still can’t afford higher education. If South Africa’s concern is really about immediate improvements in equitable access to higher education for poor students, this is the option that should be receiving the most attention.</p>
<h2>The Fees Commission report</h2>
<p>I have <a href="https://theconversation.com/south-africas-feesmustfall-protests-some-inconvenient-truths-67516">argued previously</a> that one reason for the current state of affairs has been excessive student enrolment, relative to appropriate standards and adequate resources. Yet various <a href="http://www.dhet.gov.za/SiteAssets/Latest%20News/White%20paper%20for%20post-school%20education%20and%20training.pdf">policy documents</a> <a href="https://www.gov.za/issues/national-development-plan-2030">propose</a> rapid increases to enrolment in the coming decades.</p>
<p>The fees commission correctly argues in its report that these projected enrolment numbers are unrealistic. It points out that such high student numbers threaten quality and make adequate funding even more unlikely. It recommends that the numbers be revised downwards.</p>
<p>The commission also does well in recognising that – <a href="https://theconversation.com/latest-budget-underscores-desperate-state-of-south-africas-finances-86362">given</a> the state of South Africa’s economy, public finances and other important government priorities – free higher education for all – or even most students – is simply not feasible or desirable. It rejects both the possibility of fully funded higher education and the demand for university fees to be abolished. But it endorses the abolition of application and registration fees, along with regulation of university fees.</p>
<p>There are three critical issues within the current student funding system.</p>
<ol>
<li><p>What household income threshold should be used to determine student eligibility for support from the National Student Financial Aid Scheme (NSFAS) to ensure all students who need partial or full support are covered?</p></li>
<li><p>What resources are needed to ensure that all students below the threshold receive the adequate funding; up to full cost where necessary?</p></li>
<li><p>How should the support provided be structured in terms of grants versus loans, or combinations of these?</p></li>
</ol>
<p>The commission errs in trying to address these questions.</p>
<h2>A worsening of equity</h2>
<p>The fees commission’s fundamental proposal in response to the demand for free higher education is the adoption of an income-contingent loan (ICL) scheme. Under this all students regardless of family income who register for university are funded by loans up to the full cost of study.</p>
<p>These loans would be from private banks based on guarantees of repayment from government. In other words, after a specified number of years either the student or the government would have to start repaying the loan. There are numerous problems with this model.</p>
<p>The ICL would, in some ways, constitute a worsening of equity. Poor students who currently qualify for NSFAS grants would now only get loans. </p>
<p>In the ICL scheme, either students pay or the government does. The current state of the higher education system suggests a significant number of students will not be able to repay such loans. But nowhere does the commission calculate the implications for future government expenditure.</p>
<p>A number of other proposals are seriously problematic. One involves extending the loan scheme to students in private higher education institutions. This constitutes a dramatic change in post-apartheid policy, potentially leading to indirect privatisation of the higher education system without proper consultation or sound basis for doing so. </p>
<p>Another is the suggestion that higher education expenditure should be benchmarked as 1% of South Africa’s Gross Domestic Product. This is wrongheaded because it does not take into account the proportion of young people in the country or the state of the basic education system.</p>
<p>The Davis Tax Commission’s report is more narrowly focused but, perhaps as a result, endorses arguably the best and most feasible way forward for tertiary funding.</p>
<h2>Better scenarios</h2>
<p>The current NSFAS threshold is R122,000, which means that students whose households earn less than this in a year qualify for funding by the scheme. There are two problems: first, not even all students below this threshold are getting all the financial support <a href="http://www.presidency.gov.za/press-statements/release-report-commission-inquiry-feasibility-making-high-education-and-training">they need</a>. Second, there are students in the “missing middle” who are above the threshold. They cannot fully fund themselves but have no access to support.</p>
<p><a href="https://pmg.org.za/committee-meeting/21700/">In 2015</a> the department of higher education and training provided rough estimates of the cost of raising the NSFAS threshold and fully funding students below the different, hypothetical thresholds.</p>
<p>It estimated that increasing the NSFAS threshold to R217,00 and covering full cost of study for all students below that would require an extra R12.3bil in 2016/17 for approximately 210,000 students.</p>
<p>The Davis Tax Commission effectively endorses this scenario, proposing a hybrid scheme that retains and increases grants for poor students and university fees, but uses income-contingent loans to fund the missing middle. It estimates that an additional R15 billion could be raised annually for higher education through a combination of increasing the rate of income tax for the highest earners by 1.5%; increasing capital gains tax for corporations; and, raising the <a href="http://www.sars.gov.za/TaxTypes/SDL/Pages/default.aspx">skills levy</a> by 0.5%. </p>
<p>In contrast, the commission’s proposals for raising funds for the loan scheme and other proposals – such as taking R50 billion from a surplus in the <a href="http://www.labour.gov.za/DOL/legislation/acts/unemployment-insurance-fund/unemployment-insurance-fund">unemployment insurance fund</a> for infrastructure investment – arguably violate some fundamental public finance principles and may be illegal.</p>
<p>The tax committee’s report suggests that the department’s scenario is feasible from a public finance perspective. If the government is genuinely concerned with creating maximally equitable access to higher education for poor students, this is the immediate option that should be receiving the most attention. The design and cost of a more modest income-contingent loan scheme for those students who are not covered, even with expanded support, will require detailed technical analysis and further discussion. Some related work has been done under the umbrella of a separate income-contingent loan initiative, the Ikusasa Student Financial Aid Programme, which could be useful. As the commission report notes in rejecting it, however, there are various concerns about the actual financial aid programme proposal that make it an unconvincing option at this stage. </p>
<p>The different all-or-nothing approaches being proposed by student activists and the fees commission risk the possibility of hundreds of thousands of poor and needy students not being assisted – even though the resources are available to do so.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/87688/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Seán Mfundza Muller has received support from the Heinrich Boell Foundation to participate in parliamentary oversight processes relating to the 2017 medium-term budget policy statement, and is actively involved in providing technical support and advice to a number of civil society organisations on a range of public finance matters -- including education and higher education funding.</span></em></p>Alternative scenarios for tertiary funding in South Africa are set out in a completely separate report from the Davis Tax Committee drawing from work done by the higher education department.Seán Mfundza Muller, Senior Lecturer in Economics and Research Associate at the Public and Environmental Economics Research Centre (PEERC), University of JohannesburgLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/869562017-11-14T13:29:02Z2017-11-14T13:29:02ZFamily, community and university support helps lesbian students thrive<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193427/original/file-20171106-1020-emb9zg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C51%2C1735%2C1966&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A sign at a march in Soweto, South Africa, shows just how important social support is for lesbians.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Reuters/Siphiwe Sibeko</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>During a ceremony at the University of Fort Hare earlier this year, I had the pleasure of watching some students who’d participated in one of my research projects graduate. As they crossed the stage to receive their degree certificates their families, friends and lecturers all ululated with delight. </p>
<p>What made this moment perhaps surprising was that the graduates were lesbian women. Fort Hare is in South Africa’s Eastern Cape province, which is known to hold <a href="https://theconversation.com/gay-university-students-feel-invisible-its-time-to-shine-a-light-on-their-issues-77579">conservative ideas</a> about sex and sexuality. But these graduates were self confident and proud. They made no attempt to hide their non-conforming expressions of gender: a more masculine style of dressing, for instance.</p>
<p>How, in an environment that is considered conservative and even sometimes openly homophobic, did these women develop such a strong sense of self-confidence? I was able to find out through a project I conducted as part of my ongoing research about youth, sexuality and gender. The purpose of all my research is to try and shift attitudes towards the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, intersex and queer (LGTBIQ) community at Fort Hare through increased visibility and the normalisation of queer identities. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/303985102_Exploring_the_Impact_of_Discrimination_on_the_Psychological_Well-being_of_Lesbian_Students_at_South_African_University_Campus">research project</a> in question was conducted with black lesbian students to understand their experiences at Fort Hare University. Black here refers to people of African descent; the majority of Fort Hare’s student population is black.</p>
<p>I found that family support, being valued in their own homes and enjoying strong support from their social structures – friends and, in some cases, churches – were key to instilling these women with a strong sense of self. This allowed them to live openly as lesbians even when sometimes faced with discrimination. It also contributed to their personal growth.</p>
<p>The university’s own work in tackling discrimination also played a vital role in helping the students to feel happier, more accepted and confident. This suggests that higher education institutions can do a great deal to help their LGBTIQ students feel more at home, which could be an important intervention in a country and on a continent with <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/feb/23/africa-homophobia-uganda-anti-gay-law">high levels of homophobia</a> and <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/women/womens-life/11608361/Corrective-rape-The-homophobic-fallout-of-post-apartheid-South-Africa.html">violence against lesbian women</a>. </p>
<p>Individual academics and departments can get involved in producing research that seeks to dispel myths and encourage tolerance of different sexualities, as my colleagues and I around South Africa <a href="http://www.journals.ac.za/index.php/sajhe/issue/view/91/showToc">have done</a>.</p>
<h2>Acceptance and support</h2>
<p>There is a Zulu adage, “Akusilima sindlebende kwabo”. This really means that, irrespective of how socially unacceptable one’s child’s sexual orientation may be, parents tend to provide warmth and unconditional love. </p>
<p>My study involved 21 black lesbian students aged between 18 and 28 years old. They were drawn from various faculties and departments at the university. One participant, Fikile (not her real name), told me:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I overcame discrimination while young. My family supported and loved me unconditionally hence I view myself like any other women. I have so much to live for and I do not regret being a lesbian.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Others explained how their families had shown support by accepting their romantic partners and welcoming these partners into their homes. This helped the women to feel valued at home. Lesbian students attributed their social competence, leadership qualities and well-being to their parents’ positive attitudes towards same-sex relationships. They also spoke of family members encouraging them to find a support group in the form of friends or sports clubs. This provides spaces in which they can be visible in their communities and develop strong networks.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/pdf/10.1080/00918369.2014.969071">Previous studies</a> have suggested that most religious people oppose gender equality and acceptance of lesbians. There are some positive exceptions in the traditionally conservative Eastern Cape province. Sihle (not her real name), explained how her brother, who is religious, and members of their church valued her:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>My brother is protective of me and where I come from in Port Elizabeth, the church members do not exclude us from the activities that concern women.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Other participants revealed that they never experienced discrimination from campus–based church societies. This echoes the findings of <a href="https://www.ajol.info/index.php/ajpherd/article/view/146682">a study</a> about LGBTIQ students’ experiences at Walter Sisulu University, which is also in the Eastern Cape. This suggests that there is at least some acceptance of lesbians by the province’s religious community.</p>
<p>Lecturers also emerged as a critical source of support for lesbian students. Participants told me that they received emotional, psychological and academic support from their lecturers. One told said that the university had “created a platform for sexual minorities to be recognised in all aspects”. </p>
<p>Part of this work had been done through the establishment of a task team that aimed to alleviate discrimination towards LGBTIQ students. The student commented that the inclusion of gay men and lesbian women on this task team had contributed to her sense of feeling “emotionally stable”.</p>
<p>Many of the students also took part in sport at the university, which offered an additional layer of support.</p>
<h2>The way forward</h2>
<p>Universities must continue to advocate for lesbians’ rights as enshrined in South Africa’s <a href="http://www.justice.gov.za/legislation/constitution/SAConstitution-web-eng.pdf">Constitution</a>. Work must also be done to strengthen institutions’ existing policies related to discrimination and protection.</p>
<p>Individual academics who are working on sexual orientation and gender identity can also pool their resources. For instance, I am part of a network of academics from ten universities that advocate for universities across the Southern African Development Community to <a href="http://www.aidsaccountability.org/?p=13992">destabilise heteronormativity</a>. This is the belief that heterosexuality is the only sexual orientation and is “normal”, where queer identities are “abnormal” or somehow “wrong”. </p>
<p>As part of our advocacy, we <a href="http://www.journals.ac.za/index.php/sajhe/issue/view/91/showToc">disseminate research</a> that we believe will foster an enabling and tolerant environment that normalises homosexuality and gender diversity. This is an example of the kind of interventions that academics and university departments can get involved in.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/86956/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jabulani Kheswa receives funding from the University of Fort Hare for his publications and conference attendance.</span></em></p>Family support, being valued in their own homes and enjoying strong support from their social structures helped instill lesbians in a conservative South African province with a strong sense of self.Jabulani Kheswa, Senior lecturer and head of department, Psychology, University of Fort HareLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/867042017-11-07T15:34:23Z2017-11-07T15:34:23ZWhy developing countries are particularly vulnerable to predatory journals<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193173/original/file-20171103-26472-fm5zvv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Predatory publishers are vultures feeding on academics' worries about output and incentives.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ondacaracola/Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Every day academics wade through emails riddled with spelling errors promising almost immediate publication of their research. These publications assure the reader that they can skip the tough realities of rejections and revisions. Just a simple click of the submission button, they promise, and within a month – or even just a few days – the article will be published. </p>
<p>No need to worry about rigorous peer review (or indeed any form of review): these journals are willing to publish <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2014/nov/25/journal-accepts-paper-requesting-removal-from-mailing-list">absolutely anything</a> in exchange for handsome sums of money.</p>
<p>These are predatory publications, and they’re <a href="http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0141076814548526">rife</a>. They’re different from mainstream journals because they charge exorbitant fees to publish the articles they solicit, and they don’t follow any of the <a href="https://www.nature.com/news/investigating-journals-the-dark-side-of-publishing-1.12666">quality assurance processes</a> expected in academic publication.</p>
<p>Academics in the developing world have become a <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4589914/">favourite target</a> for these journals, and many seem to be falling into the trap. We need to ask why. </p>
<p>The main reason for this is that there’s a systemic problem – academic publication is too often linked to performance targets or the accrual of incentive funding. For as long as this is the case, academics will take short cuts.</p>
<p>This is certainly the case in South Africa, where academics are often encouraged to publish because this will increase the subsidy the institution receives from the state rather than because it is a university’s task to contribute to knowledge creation.</p>
<h2>Pressure to publish</h2>
<p>There’s every reason for African countries to focus on increasing academics’ publishing outputs to ensure dissemination of their research. Africa contributes <a href="http://akademiai.com/doi/pdf/10.1007/s11192-007-1658-3">very little</a> to international knowledge creation. This is because the most common means of disseminating such knowledge is through academic publication and countries in Africa have not focused on developing this capacity. Developing such capacity will need to move beyond initiatives designed to support individual academics to take on the requisite research and academic writing practices. </p>
<p>It will also require consideration of the extent to which the institutional culture is focused on knowledge dissemination as part of a university’s public good responsibility.</p>
<p>African academics also continue to face multiple obstacles, such as the <a href="http://blogs.plos.org/thestudentblog/2016/06/14/publishing/">biases</a> inherent in the publishing industry. </p>
<p>To overcome these problems South Africa has adopted an approach that involves the department of higher education and training encouraging publication output through a national funding formula. It follows <a href="https://academyofsciencesa.wikispaces.com/DHET+Accreditation">various approaches</a> to ensure that only quality contributions are funded in this way. But the process is not <a href="https://theconversation.com/african-academics-are-being-caught-in-the-predatory-journal-trap-48473">failsafe</a>.</p>
<p>Universities need the money generated by publication output. They use three mechanisms to ensure that all academics publish. First, they reward academic publication explicitly in probation and promotion requirements. Secondly, some universities have imported the notion of key performance indicators from industry: research productivity is measured and the regular generation of research publications is required.</p>
<p>And thirdly, many universities provide <a href="https://theconversation.com/incentives-for-academics-can-have-unintended-negative-consequences-78408">financial incentives</a> to the individual author in the form of funding into a research account. In a few cases, this funding even takes the form of bonuses in the academic’s salary. </p>
<p>The department of higher education and training has repeatedly cautioned against the use of incentives and the “<a href="https://search.opengazettes.org.za/text/9788?dq=38552&page=1">perverse consequences</a>” they bring. But they continue to be widely used. These institutional mechanisms have created a problematic culture in some universities where “getting published” becomes the end goal. Quantity edges out quality. From here it is practically inevitable that some academics will fall for the promises of predatory publications.</p>
<p>Not all universities fall into predatory traps. <a href="http://www.sun.ac.za/crest/%5D">Research indicates</a> that over a ten-year period, research intensive universities had less than 1% of their publications in journals that showed strong evidence of <a href="http://www.sajs.co.za/sites/default/files/publications/pdf/SAJS-113-7-8_Mouton_ResearchArticle.pdf">being predatory</a>. In the same period, five other universities – which are less research-intensive in focus – had more than 10% of their publications in such journals. </p>
<p>This suggests that having a strong research culture is key. If there is a general sense that academic publication is about knowledge dissemination rather than meeting performance targets or accruing incentive funding, academics and universities become less vulnerable to these vultures.</p>
<h2>Making meaningful contributions</h2>
<p>Institutional cultures are difficult to shift. But the South African higher education sector needs to consider how it speaks about – and rewards – publications. Universities should be very wary of introducing systems that focus on counts rather than contributions. </p>
<p>More intensive measures are also needed to support academics in making meaningful contributions. Many novice academics and postgraduate scholars ask me for suggestions about where they can “get published”. They either want to know what journals are most likely to accept their contributions or which will ‘count’ when it comes to promotion. In both cases I ask them <a href="http://postgradenvironments.com/2017/10/16/selecting-journal-publication/">one simple question</a>: “Where is the conversation happening?” </p>
<p>When an academic publishes their work they are making a contribution to the boundaries of a field. So there needs to be a sense of where the boundaries of a field are. Whose work are we drawing from? Whose positions are we challenging? Academics should be publishing wherever the conversation to which they are contributing is happening. Selecting a journal on the basis of where our knowledge contribution is most likely to be read provides us as academics with a strong immunisation against predatory publications.</p>
<p>The good news is that a great many journals take the stewarding of an academic article to publication very seriously. Among them are a growing number of high quality <a href="https://doaj.org">open access journals</a> which ensure that contributions are widely available to all – and not only to the universities which have access to expensive databases. </p>
<p>And more quality open access journals are being published in the Global South – <a href="http://www.scielo.org.za/">Africa</a>, <a href="https://sparcopen.org/news/2015/open-access-in-latin-america-a-paragon-for-the-rest-of-the-world/">South America</a>, and elsewhere – than ever before. Academics can make sure their contributions are disseminated through legitimate publications that follow the kinds of quality measures necessary for credible academic contributions.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/86704/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Sioux McKenna does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>If there’s a general sense that academic publication is about knowledge dissemination rather than meeting performance targets, academics and universities become less vulnerable to predatory journals.Sioux McKenna, Director of PG Studies & Higher Education Studies PhD Co-ordinator, Rhodes UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/865522017-10-31T13:16:19Z2017-10-31T13:16:19ZSouth Africa can’t afford to see its universities pitch over the precipice<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192447/original/file-20171030-18700-cdgn8j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">South Africa boasts world class universities. It must not allow their quality to drop.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>For the past two years the actions of <a href="http://chet.org.za/data/sahe-open-data">government</a> and protesting <a href="http://www.sahistory.org.za/article/student-protests-democratic-south-africa">students</a> have slowly started squeezing South Africa’s universities into a shadow of their former selves.</p>
<p>In his book “<a href="http://nb.bookslive.co.za/blog/2017/05/23/as-by-fire-an-urgent-and-necessary-book-on-the-south-african-student-protests-crisis/">As by Fire</a>” prominent educationalist Jonathan Jansen argues that South Africa is witnessing the end of its universities. He explains that this doesn’t mean the doors will close. Registration will not stop. The day to day business of universities will continue. But, he warns, the excellence evidenced by the rankings of South African universities will slowly dip into oblivion.</p>
<p>South Africa is the only country in Africa with ten universities that regularly feature on at <a href="https://www.topuniversities.com/university-rankings/world-university-rankings/2018">least one</a> world <a href="https://www.timeshighereducation.com/world-university-rankings/2017/world-ranking#!/page/0/length/25/sort_by/rank/sort_order/asc/cols/stats">ranking list</a>. These ten are institutions that South Africans can be hugely proud of and whose achievements could serve as models for expanding excellence to other institutions.</p>
<p>The <a href="http://www.uct.ac.za/usr/news/downloads/2016/UniversitiesFundingSouthAfrica_FactSheet.pdf">decline in government funding</a> to South African universities has meant that institutions have had to look elsewhere to cover costs. This has inevitably included <a href="http://www.uct.ac.za/usr/news/downloads/2016/UniversitiesFundingSouthAfrica_FactSheet.pdf">increasing student tuition</a>. In turn, this contributed to student protests in 2015 and 2016. In some instances those protests shut down institutions – suspending their normal functioning for days or weeks at a time. </p>
<p>Shut downs have knock-on effects, some of them long lasting. If universities have to close their doors terms are delayed. Students don’t graduate and don’t pay fees. Universities cannot balance their budgets and infrastructure is not maintained. Staff salaries can’t be paid and academics have to work two or three jobs to survive. </p>
<p>The impact is also felt when it comes to funding. Funding agencies have deadlines and if research outputs are not met grants get cancelled. If grants are cancelled there is less money for equipment. Post graduate student bursaries are cancelled. Post graduate students drop out and go elsewhere and even if new research grants are awarded the students are no longer available to do the research. Then the research outputs cannot be met - again. </p>
<p>Universities elsewhere – in <a href="https://theconversation.com/when-politics-and-academia-collide-quality-suffers-just-ask-nigeria-67313">Nigeria</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/kenyas-universities-are-in-the-grip-of-a-quality-crisis-54664">Kenya</a> and, as Jansen <a href="http://www.universityworldnews.com/article.php?story=2017082408304974">himself writes</a>, Zimbabwe and Uganda – stand as a stark warning. South Africa must act to halt the decline and save its universities’ well deserved global reputation of excellence.</p>
<h2>Sustaining universities</h2>
<p>Who cares about universities’ world rankings? Isn’t this just an elitist system in which South Africa cannot afford to compete given its <a href="http://www.statssa.gov.za/?p=9989">declining economy</a>? </p>
<p>No, it’s not. Excellence in academia is a self perpetuating cycle. Break this cycle and universities dive into a spiral of decline. </p>
<p>Excellent students complete their degrees in the minimum time. They drive excellence in an institution’s research programmes. They then become top quality post graduate students who in turn become top class academics and a university’s research machine benefits. These graduates have the ability and the interest needed to engage with a university’s research activities. Because they excel academically, they are often keen to get to grips with more advanced research.</p>
<p>What I’ve found is that getting students involved early on in research often inspires them to study further, equipping them to be future lecturers and professors. Many research programmes – including <a href="https://www.fabinet.up.ac.za/index.php/research-groups/dst-nrf-centre-of-excellence-in-tree-health-biotechnology">my own</a> and that of the faculty in which I work – offer opportunities for undergraduate students to work in their laboratories. In this way students can participate in an institutions’ research activities. </p>
<p>In turn, increased research output <a href="http://www.dhet.gov.za/Policy%20and%20Development%20Support/Research%20Outputs%20policy%20gazette%202015.pdf">benefits universities financially</a>. </p>
<p>Keeping a steady flow of research output will ensure that South Africa can continue to boast some of the world’s top ranked research programmes. The universities of Pretoria, the Witwatersrand and Cape Town are considered <a href="http://www.heraldlive.co.za/news/2017/04/10/three-sa-universities-score-top-marks-world-subject-rankings/">world leaders</a> in mycology, ornithology, anthropology and area studies. The research programmes that earned them these rankings depend on access to top quality postgraduate students. These bright young minds drive world class research – and they come from all over the world.</p>
<p>My own programme has attracted students from Australia, China, Iran, Kenya, Korea, Nigeria, Vietnam and Zimbabwe who are now studying with me. I have in the past also had the privilege of supervising students from Cameroon, Colombia, Chile, Ethiopia, Germany, Lesotho, Namibia, Oman, Switzerland, Uruguay, Venezuela and Zambia. This internationally rich group of students benefits my research and is hugely stimulating to the South Africa students in the programme. </p>
<h2>Preventing brain drain</h2>
<p>The common thread here is engaging students and providing them with the facilities and environment that will keep them in South Africa. Brain drain is <a href="https://businesstech.co.za/news/general/120211/this-map-shows-where-all-south-africas-skilled-workers-are-going/">a reality</a>. The country <a href="https://mg.co.za/article/2016-06-10-00-scarce-skills">needs more</a> doctors to staff its hospitals and engineers to build its power stations. Losing skilled professionals is <a href="https://businesstech.co.za/news/wealth/193764/how-the-rush-to-leave-south-africa-is-starting-to-hurt-business/">bad for the economy</a>.</p>
<p>In addition, university students the world over have changed the direction of business, governments and politics because they are a country’s intellectual leaders. When the strongest of these students choose not to study at universities in their homeland the country is robbed of its next generation of leaders.</p>
<p>Universities must maintain their excellence – or watch their best and brightest minds <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/r/2010-2019/WashingtonPost/2016/07/13/Editorial-Opinion/Graphics/KF_Report.pdf">choosing to study</a> and perhaps settle elsewhere.</p>
<p>The role of universities is to educate. They need to produce research and attract brilliant young thinkers who will, ultimately, contribute to a stronger economy and society. South Africa’s universities have long fulfilled these roles. The country cannot afford to see its tertiary education sector pitch over the precipice.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/86552/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Brenda Wingfield is a Professor in Genetics at the University of Pretoria
She holds the DST-NRF SARChI chair in Fungal Genomics
She is one of the vice presidents of the Academy of Science of South Africa (ASSAf) </span></em></p>South Africa must act to halt the decline and save its universities’ well deserved global reputation of excellence.Brenda Wingfield, Vice President of the Academy of Science of South Africa and DST-NRF SARChI chair in Fungal Genomics, Professor of Genetics, University of PretoriaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/847172017-10-26T13:16:25Z2017-10-26T13:16:25ZA South African case study: how to transform student support efforts<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/190786/original/file-20171018-32361-ob5rlt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Getting access to a university doesn't necessarily mean feeling comfortable in that space.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ian Barbour/Flickr</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>South Africa’s universities have created a number of programmes to address the historic – and still existing – imbalance between black and white students. </p>
<p>Black students are more likely than their white peers to drop out <a href="http://www.justice.gov.za/commissions/FeesHET/docs/2015-HESummit-Annexure05.pdf">without completing their degrees</a>. Many experience deeply rooted <a href="http://www.universityworldnews.com/article.php?story=20120720135828322">institutional racism</a>. (I use the word “black” here in the South African context to include everybody who was <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Population-Registration-Act">classified</a> as African, Coloured and Indian under apartheid.)</p>
<p>And so each year <a href="http://www.che.ac.za/sites/default/files/publications/Full_Report.pdf">about 15%</a> of those students entering higher education do so through equity development programmes. These take several different forms, such as the <a href="https://www.news.uct.ac.za/article/-2015-07-27-academic-development-programme-student-success-not-just-access">academic development programmes</a> and the <a href="http://www.humedu.uct.ac.za/">extended curriculum programmes</a>, which extend regular undergraduate study by one year. </p>
<p>All are designed to help talented but under-prepared students with financial, academic and mentoring support. </p>
<p>These development programmes have made it possible for “<a href="http://www.che.ac.za/sites/default/files/publications/Full_Report.pdf">tens of thousands of students</a>” to enter tertiary institutions since 1994. Success rates, especially for extended curriculum programmes, <a href="http://www.che.ac.za/sites/default/files/publications/Full_Report.pdf">are high</a>.</p>
<p>But this success comes at a cost. <a href="https://open.uct.ac.za/bitstream/handle/11427/16649/thesis_hum_2015_nomdo_gideon_john.pdf?sequence=1">My</a> <a href="http://www.journals.ac.za/index.php/sajhe/article/view/588/1164">research</a> and experience of working on an <a href="http://www.mmuf.uct.ac.za/">undergraduate fellowship programme</a> at the <a href="http://www.universityworldnews.com/article.php?story=20121023192747849">“historically white”</a> University of Cape Town has shown how participation in development programmes profoundly affects black students’ sense of identity and their feelings of self-worth.</p>
<p>Students experience intense feelings of discomfort, confusion and even embarrassment at being classified as “different” and an “anomaly” alongside the <a href="https://repository.up.ac.za/bitstream/handle/2263/366/Jansen%20%282004%29l.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y">norm</a> of white academic success. </p>
<h2>Apartheid’s racist legacy</h2>
<p>Development programmes are designed to facilitate students’ non-discriminatory access into higher education. They also aim to promote the “<a href="http://www.adp.uct.ac.za/our-adp-mission">transformation of institutional cultures</a>” at historically white universities. </p>
<p>Students are placed in the programmes based on their final high school grades as well as <a href="https://educonnect.co.za/the-national-benchmark-tests-what-you-need-to-know/">national benchmark tests</a>. These results determine university placement as well as whether extra academic support is needed. </p>
<p>The majority of students who enter these programmes are black – and so they enter historically white universities with the labels “African”, “Coloured”, “Indian” or “previously disadvantaged” stamped on their existence – labels that symbolise “deficit”, serving to distinguish black students from the accepted norms of white academic success.</p>
<p>But this feeling of otherness doesn’t only exist with relation to whiteness. The vexed issue of racial classification takes centre stage. One student said: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>I thought I would be accepted as a black person… but I found… I was ‘other’ and I was ‘Coloured’ – and that was a revelation and it’s a root of lots of resentment and disillusionment on my part. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Being “black”, then, is not a homogeneous experience. Terms such as “disadvantage”, “transformation” and “black identity” have different meanings for African, Coloured and Indian students. This is a consequence of apartheid’s hierarchy of race categories under which Coloureds and Indians enjoyed better privileges than Africans.</p>
<p>So from the outset it seems impossible that these students can attain a sense of belonging. </p>
<p>But my <a href="http://www.journals.ac.za/index.php/sajhe/article/view/588/1164">research</a> and experience have <a href="https://open.uct.ac.za/bitstream/handle/11427/16649/thesis_hum_2015_nomdo_gideon_john.pdf?sequence=1">shown</a> that this needn’t be the case. If development programmes take on the fact that students are operating in uncomfortable, emotionally charged environments, the programmes can be turned into spaces that are productive and where students can develop a true sense of belonging.</p>
<p>This means actively engaging and encouraging critical discussion about issues of race, class, identity and citizenship in white-dominated spaces. </p>
<p>The undergraduate fellowship programme, on which I based my research, has shown that this is possible.</p>
<h2>A case study of success</h2>
<p>The fellowship programmes is small – only five fellows are selected for the programme each year. </p>
<p>Fellows operate in a close-knit network which facilitates critical debates about race. In this environment students are able to raise and confront tough, uncomfortable questions. The programme acknowledges the varied experiences and perceptions of the world that its fellows bring along. These differences are used as a basis for collaborative peer engagement and for creating a sense of common purpose and belonging. </p>
<p>Another core aspect of programme is mentorship. Each student selects an academic mentor – a specialist in a particular discipline who is responsible for inducting the student into that field. Mentors guide, facilitate and create opportunities for student advancement. </p>
<p>Funding is important too. The fellowship is largely funded by international organisations and is well resourced, allowing students to travel to local and international fellowship conferences, have access to specialised mentoring, research writing retreats and funds to repay some student debt on completing their PhDs. </p>
<p>This approach creates a shift in perception: black identity comes to be viewed in terms of how one feels, in <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2013/entries/heidegger/">the words</a> of German philosopher Martin Heidegger, about one’s existence and sense of “being in the world”. This allows for opportunities to create a more confident, authentic sense of “being” human that allows, as Heidegger puts it “one to feel <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2013/entries/heidegger/">at home</a> within oneself”. </p>
<h2>Lessons</h2>
<p>Of course, there is no single perfect approach for developing equity within higher education. But the lessons from my research show how important it is to create spaces for reflecting on student experiences and perceptions of higher education. </p>
<p>Extended development programmes shouldn’t try to sanitise contentious issues. Instead, they should embrace the discomfort of engaging students about the necessity of the programmes and how they are meant to contribute to transformation agendas. </p>
<p>Taking ownership in this way provides a platform for students to generate their own sense of belonging.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/84717/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Gideon Nomdo does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Students experience intense feelings of discomfort, confusion and even embarrassment at being classified as “different” and an “anomaly” alongside the norm of white academic success.Gideon Nomdo, Course coordinator: Language in Humanities, University of Cape TownLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/784812017-06-05T16:37:50Z2017-06-05T16:37:50ZUniversity tests should be part and parcel of teaching - not stand-alone events<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/171790/original/file-20170601-25658-1hvw188.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Standardised tests exist in education systems <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/education/archive/2015/06/exams-around-the-world/395540/">all over the world</a>. South Africa is no exception – and its test results often make for depressing reading.</p>
<p>In 2014 education accounted for 6.2% of South Africa’s Gross Domestic Product and 19.1% of total <a href="http://www.treasury.gov.za/publications/igfr/2015/prov/03.%20Chapter%203%20-%20Education.pdf">government expenditure</a>. International benchmarking studies like the <a href="http://www.timss-sa.org.za/">Trends in International Mathematics and Science Study</a> and regional assessments such as the <a href="http://www.nbt.ac.za/">National Benchmark Tests</a> suggest this money is not being well spent. The level and quality of South African schools’ learning outcomes tend to be lower than those of countries that invest significantly less in their schooling sectors. For example, Singapore spends 3% of its GDP on education, yet <a href="http://www.channelnewsasia.com/news/singapore/singapore-tops-oecd-s-global-education-ranking-report-8278406">scores top</a> in Mathematics and Science among 76 countries.</p>
<p>This shouldn’t be surprising. South Africa’s National Benchmark Tests are little more than a screening system for university applicants. They only assess students’ ability to combine aspects of prior learning in a few competency areas. They don’t address the <a href="http://www.universityworldnews.com/article.php?story=20090816082047397">systemic problem</a> of poor learner performance. </p>
<p>This points to a much larger problem: namely, the deficiencies in South African schools’ and universities’ assessment practices. In our book <a href="https://www.peterlang.com/view/product/78618">Education, assessment and the desire for dissonance</a> we argue that assessment should not be considered as a one-directional activity that’s detached from teaching and learning. Rather, assessment needs to involve doing things with others, rather than for others. It has to be embedded with teaching and learning.</p>
<h2>Exam stress</h2>
<p>Assessment should be a part of teaching and learning at universities. It’s important because it will subvert exclusion and allow all students to take responsibility for their work. </p>
<p>The problem is with how this assessment is currently structured. As university lecturers we have experienced it in quite a negative way.</p>
<p>Our students – we teach educational theory and practice – are enthusiastic about their education, and committed to it. But most worry a great deal about exams, as if their learning can be appropriately ascertained just through their performance in these tests. This concern is compounded by the overwhelming emphasis many lecturers place on examination results. Exams <a href="http://www.nber.org/papers/w12199">are seen as</a> the ultimate corroboration of students’ understandings and insights.</p>
<p>This only happens because assessment is considered as that which “measures” learning: that is, assessment of learning. On top of that many of the formal opportunities students receive to consolidate and expand their insights are often erroneously connected to short pieces of work. These are mostly tests and assignments, according to which they are assessed. </p>
<p>At university, the repercussions of focusing on short bursts of measurable tasks often only present themselves when students opt to pursue postgraduate degrees. It’s not unusual, at the institution where we teach, to encounter students who access the master’s programme with remarkable results – since this is the criterion our institution uses to attract students in the first place. </p>
<p>These students come to us with particular understandings of their capacity to study and learn based on the results that we have given them.</p>
<p>Yet many of these “excellent” students battle at master’s level. Any attempt to extend the basics on which they had been assessed in the previous academic year, such as short pieces of work, is often met with serious ineptitude. They struggle to proffer their own perspectives or to articulate their own opinions. This is seemingly because they were not required to do so in previous programmes.</p>
<p>So neither the student nor the lecturer can exercise his or her governmentality. This is <a href="http://www.palgrave.com/us/book/9781403986528">a term</a> coined by French philosopher and social theorist Michel Foucault, which refers to the way in which the state exercises control. </p>
<p>The student doesn’t have the autonomy to bring what’s required to fruition, such as a research proposal. This affects the student’s responsibility and self-esteem. The teacher does not have the autonomy to undo what’s been put in place in the first instance: institutional sanctioning via results.</p>
<p>There seems to be a disconnect between teaching and learning and assessment.</p>
<h2>A new approach</h2>
<p>Assessment in university remains at odds with a plausible notion of assessment because it does not lend itself to responsible and esteemed pedagogical action: that is, teaching and learning. For this shift to happen a different understanding of assessment is needed; one that transcends the notions of assessment <em>of</em> learning and assessment <em>for</em> learning.</p>
<p>We consider assessment as embedded in teaching and learning. It needs to unfold <em>within</em> teaching and learning. This implies that lecturers and students give an account of their actions to one another by making assertions, expressing doubts through questioning and indicating their desires by making particular requests. </p>
<p>As it stands now, you teach a particular concept and then assess whether a student has understood and learnt by posing particular questions. </p>
<p>What we’re suggesting, quite differently, is that assessment for learning occurs while the teaching unfolds. A student is able to give their own initial thoughts on a particular concept while it’s being taught. Students collaborate with their teacher to reach particular understandings. Teaching and learning takes on a deliberative rather than an instructional form.</p>
<p>In this space both lecturers and students are in a position to ask what is “good” and “best” in the enactment of their learning desires. They can do things differently so that assessment enhances rather than regulating teaching and learning. That is, without entirely doing away with assessment, start using assessment for learning as well.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/78481/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Nuraan Davids receives funding from NRF. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Yusef Waghid does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Assessment should be a part of teaching and learning at universities. It’s important because it will subvert exclusion and allow all students to take responsibility for their work.Nuraan Davids, Senior Lecturer in Philosophy of Education, Stellenbosch UniversityYusef Waghid, Distinguished Professor of Philosophy of Education, Stellenbosch UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/784082017-05-30T13:55:46Z2017-05-30T13:55:46ZIncentives for academics can have unintended, negative consequences<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/171329/original/file-20170529-25247-1ibhmkt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">When academics are pushed to publish and to compete, teaching and research can take a back seat.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Rent seeking is <a href="https://stats.oecd.org/glossary/detail.asp?ID=3297">a term</a> coined in economics to describe the process by which private entities seek to use the state’s power to obtain or protect excessive economic surplus. </p>
<p>A classic example of this behaviour is when a monopolist bribes politicians or officials to protect or maintain the monopoly power that allows the company in question to charge excess prices and earn excess profits. </p>
<p>But the idea of rent seeking can be applied more broadly. Economist Robert Tollison <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s11127-011-9852-5">described</a> the analysis of rent seeking as “the study of how people compete for artificially contrived transfers”. In a <a href="http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0738059316304436">recent paper</a>, I argue that Tollison’s description provides a useful framework in which to understand the dynamics of modern academia.</p>
<p>Governments and universities are effectively encouraging academics to behave like rent seekers. This has negative effects for the integrity of academics and academic institutions. It’s also bad news for society at large. My paper <a href="http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0738059316304436">focuses on South Africa</a> and on how financial incentives, institutional rankings and the valorisation of grant funding encourage rent seeking behaviour among academics. </p>
<p>Such practices originated in developed nations. But it may be particularly harmful for developing countries to <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1023/B:TEAM.0000012239.55136.4b">adopt these mechanisms</a>.</p>
<h2>The push to publish</h2>
<p>In South Africa, as in some other countries, academics and their institutions receive incentives for publishing in certain journals. In some cases this includes receiving a proportion of the government incentive in cash. </p>
<p>These journals are <a href="http://libguides.wits.ac.za/Scholarly_Research_Resources/Accredited_Journals">accredited</a> by the country’s department of higher education and training, supplementing various international journal indices with other (mostly local) journals. The government incentive translates into approximately R120,000 ($9,000) per “unit”. A peer-reviewed, accredited journal article or book chapter by one author equals a unit; this is then divided by the number of authors.</p>
<p>The intention behind paying universities and academics for books, chapters or articles in accredited journals is good. It’s designed to encourage South African academics to produce more peer-reviewed research. The hope is that this will improve the extent and quality of the country’s academic research.</p>
<p>But it’s not obvious that financial incentives are the best way to pursue such objectives. More problematically, there are reasons to believe that an approach based on explicit incentives could lead – and has led – to very different outcomes. </p>
<p>A number of academics <a href="http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S0038-23532008000200001">have pointed out</a> that such a system creates incentives to publish in accredited journals with the lowest quality requirements. In economics, for example, getting even an excellent paper into a top international journal can take between two and five years, whereas getting a weak paper into a local journal can take a mere six months.</p>
<p>In some cases it indirectly <a href="https://mg.co.za/article/2015-12-10-unscrupulous-academics-buy-into-university-419-scam">encourages fraud</a> in the form of plagiarism. Unethical arrangements can also develop between institutions, or individuals, and publishers.</p>
<p>The global ranking of universities is another phenomenon that’s driving rent seeking behaviour.</p>
<p>The obvious problem with rankings is that at best they only reflect relative rather than absolute quality. A university could improve a great deal on various dimensions, but still fall in the rankings. It’s a zero-sum game. This is compounded by the fact that the various metrics on which rankings are based don’t necessarily represent what’s socially important: the quality of teaching, locally relevant research or developing high calibre academics for the future.</p>
<p>So the pursuit of rankings may mean pursuing things that are <a href="https://mg.co.za/article/2013-01-04-17-university-rankings-a-flawed-tool">not beneficial</a> to the university or society at large. It may also lead to universities expending resources “rigging” these metrics, rather than directing the resources at their key work.</p>
<h2>Great harm</h2>
<p>These kinds of dynamics are likely to cause even more harm in developing country higher education systems than the developed country systems in which they originated. The broad literature on rent seeking suggests - such as <a href="http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/j.1468-0297.2006.01045.x/full">with the “resource curse”</a> - that the prevalence and harms of such behaviour are worse where institutions are weak. In academia this means not just accountability structures, but especially the quality of existing academics and academic institutions.</p>
<p>Academics who are not equipped to produce and publish work that makes a substantive contribution – intellectual or other – are pushed to publish anyway. Institutions that are poorly resourced are judged by their rankings. These individuals and institutions are likely to follow the paths of least resistance in pursuit of short-term funding and status. </p>
<p>All of this distorts the behaviour of academics already within the system. It can also affect who decides to enter and remain in academia. Good academics can be driven out and rent seekers can rapidly ascend the hierarchy.</p>
<p>There have been some attempts in South Africa to respond to the perverse outcomes of these incentives. For example, the new Research Outputs Policy published by the Department of Higher Education & Training <a href="http://www.gov.za/documents/research-outputs-policy-11-mar-2015-1027">in 2015</a> pleads that</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Institutions and academics must remember the importance of research integrity when submitting their claims. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>But appeals to academic integrity don’t make a lot of sense when the entire system is built on the assumption that individuals have sufficiently little commitment to the academic project that financial incentives are needed to get them to do quality research. </p>
<p>Accountability mechanisms in academia are important given the public funding and social role of universities. However the use of incentives, rankings and similar mechanisms may well be causing more harm than good. In developing countries it may also compromise the longer-term process of building credible, high quality academic institutions.</p>
<p>Rapid, dramatic changes to the existing system may be ill-advised. But more needs to be done to develop mechanisms based on intrinsic motivations of committed, quality academics. And it’s important to limit the harms currently being caused by rent seeking.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/78408/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Seán Mfundza Muller received an honorarium in 2013 from the Council on Higher Education for participation in its '20 Year Review of Higher Education' task team. As an academic he benefits from some of the incentive systems described in the article and accompanying paper.</span></em></p>More must be done to develop mechanisms based on intrinsic motivations of committed, quality academics. It’s important to limit the harms currently being caused by rent seeking.Seán Mfundza Muller, Senior Lecturer in Economics, University of JohannesburgLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.