There’s a lot of children on campus. Are they safe?

Not all of them are. I’m not talking here about the odd Real Genius in England, nor about established practice in Scotland. I’m talking about the under-18s in those international pathway providers that have a shiny building on the edge of campus.

I’ve been looking at a range of the policies, advertising and contracts that surround living in one of these providers, and if I think back to discussions about safeguarding when I was a college governor, in some cases what I’ve found has been quite alarming.

Some pathway providers’ safeguarding frameworks for under-18 international students read less like child protection policies, and more like sophisticated disclaimers.

There’s a pattern. Organisations repeatedly assert that young people will live “as adults” and that they “will not act in loco parentis”, all while importing adult-tenancy style obligations and liabilities. The effect is to shift risk onto children and their families in ways that sit uncomfortably with contemporary safeguarding expectations in education settings.

Many of the policies I’ve seen construct a legal fiction. Parents are required to sign consent documentation containing language like:

The parent/guardian(s) declare their acceptance that [we] will not act in loco parentis.

Please note that [we do] not provide 24-hour supervision in the student accommodation.

Please note you MUST submit this form as part of your UK visa application.

The requirement to submit a waiver as part of visa applications would make many parents feel they’re waiving ordinary expectations of care to secure the study place.

One pathway operator frames its setting as “predominantly an adult environment”, states that the university and college “do not act in loco parentis” and “do not normally provide any special support or supervision for students under the age of 18” – even while acknowledging these students are legally children.

Another requires parents to agree to accept liability for debts and to appoint a UK-based guardian if the child is in private housing and parents live overseas. The model shifts day-to-day risk back to families rather than describing the organisation’s own supervision and escalation arrangements.

Five categories of concern

Across the stuff I’ve seen – including policies, contracts and advertising from providers managing thousands of under-18 international students annually – several red flags recur.

Some policies say that the organisation can’t consent to non-emergency medical treatment and require students to self-manage medication, or words to that effect. If a child is too unwell to care for themselves, one provider’s policy says the organisation “will not accept responsibility” and “may advise the student to return home.” That reads like a welfare gap, not a contingency plan.

Medical consent is sometimes rehearsed accurately in principle, but operational arrangements remain thin. Who holds emergency contact authority at 02.00? Who escorts to hospital? How is medication support handled in practice? Policies often leave these questions unanswered.

There are better examples. One major provider’s policy explicitly states:

In an emergency a senior member of [centre] staff has permission to act on medical advice.

While staff at pathway providers are “trained” and policies sometimes reference safeguarding frameworks, some explicitly state they “do not carry out DBS checks on staff or other students” even when under-18s are placed in mixed-age premises where contractors and external accommodation staff enter rooms.

One provider’s group policy makes no published commitments on staffing or safer-recruitment standards for anyone with room access in under-18 buildings, including contractors, or on the level of night cover. Another notes it will rely on “personal identification” and working-hours access rather than proactive safer-recruitment controls. For cohorts explicitly acknowledged as children, that feels thin.

In some, students are often “free to come and go” and providers state they will not check up on a student to make sure they return to their accommodation. There is frequently no curfew, no welfare rounds and no explicit missing-child escalation pathway in accommodation sections – only a generic emergency phone number. In practice, that means no routine mechanism to notice when a 16 or 17-year-old isn’t home.

One provider’s policy lists a series of restrictions but provides no detail on who does the evening check, what happens when a student isn’t in, how quickly that escalates or who calls police or social care if contact can’t be made. There, conditions exist without a published missing-child protocol or timelines.

Forced dependency

In some policies, accommodation is framed as “generally intended” for the use of adults with no published commitments on under-18s’ placement – no detail on single-sex flats, visitor rules, nightly checks, welfare rounds or staff vetting.

One notes under-18s “may” be allocated on-campus rooms and that a guarantor signs, but it doesn’t set any under-18-specific residence conditions such as age-segregated floors, guest rules, curfews or quiet hours tailored to minors, or supervision expectations for third-party purpose-built student accommodation used by the pathway.

Providers often commit to inform guarantors about arrears or serious breaches “without the student’s consent” and reserve broad rights of room access. One policy explicitly reserves the right to unannounced access where it “suspects illegal substances” or wishes to “check on your welfare.”

But there is often no explicit under-18 consent framework for safeguarding-critical disclosures – like when a child is missing overnight or hospitalised. One provider’s policy notes exceptions for debt-related disclosures to guarantors – less so for safety.

The asymmetry – limited care duties alongside extensive control powers – runs through many of the documents.

Meanwhile what are, in law, licence agreements often emphasise “no landlord-tenant relationship”, the right to move a child to a hotel, termination for non-payment, strict deposit deductions and expectations to vacate by 10.00 with liability for lock changes if keys aren’t returned. One requires parents to “honour all obligations” under contracts entered before the student turns 18 – legally neat, but as is so often the case, the emphasis is on liability rather than care.

Regulation and codes

Working Together to Safeguard Children and sector practice in further education and 16 to 19 provision all stress the need for safer recruitment where staff have unsupervised contact, clear missing-child procedures and proactive welfare planning for illness, disability and mental health.

I thought there might be stuff in the national accommodation codes – but they are essentially age-neutral. They expect compliance with law but don’t set concrete safeguarding standards for minors.

In the UUK / GuildHE Code of Practice, the only explicit nod to minors is a caveat. The code applies to further education accommodation “except insofar as other legislation, notably with regard to students aged under 18, specifically applies.” In other words, it defers to wider safeguarding and children’s law rather than setting under-18 standards itself.

The ANUK and Unipol national codes (educational-establishment and non-educational versions) both set general management, safety and consumer-law expectations but contain no specific clauses on under-18s. They assume compliance with “all statutory requirements” and good practice without adding child-specific duties.

The absence of safeguarding inspection for pathway providers ought to be compared against how FE colleges are regulated. Ofsted’s Further Education and Skills Inspection Handbook explicitly requires inspectors to evaluate “how well leaders and those responsible for governance ensure that the provider fulfils its responsibilities to promote all learners’ welfare and keep them safe.”

For colleges with residential provision, this includes examining whether accommodation meets the national minimum standards for students aged under 18.

But pathway providers usually fall outside that inspection regime. Instead, they are regulated in England by the Office for Students. Its regulatory framework does not include routine safeguarding inspections of accommodation provision or welfare arrangements for minors.

Australia operates a much more structured system through the Education Services for Overseas Students Act 2000 and the National Code 2018. These create statutory requirements that pathway providers and universities cannot enrol students under 18 without first issuing a Confirmation of Appropriate Accommodation and Welfare.

This CAAW letter is a legally binding document that must verify pre-approved accommodation, 24-hour supervision arrangements, airport transfers and welfare provisions through approved organisations. Australian pathway providers have to demonstrate compliance before international minors receive student visas.

Under the framework, providers must ensure that accommodation is age-appropriate and independently verified, that welfare personnel are identifiable and contactable 24 hours, and that regular welfare checks occur with documented outcomes. The regime explicitly recognises that under-18 international students are a vulnerable cohort requiring protective infrastructure beyond what adult students need.

In Canada, there’s mandatory custodianship for children. The Custodianship Declaration Form (IMM 5646) must be notarised and signed by both parents and the named Canadian custodian who accepts legal responsibility for the minor’s welfare.

That creates a clear individual accountable for the young person – not an institution disclaiming responsibility, but a named person accepting it. The custodian must be a Canadian citizen or permanent resident living within reasonable distance of the institution.

Homestay families undergo vetting and background checks. Custodians must be available for emergencies, attend parent-teacher meetings, sign permission forms and make welfare decisions when parents cannot be reached. The declaration is an immigration requirement – students cannot receive study permits without it.

Time to tighten up

If providers are going to host 16 and 17-year-olds, the baseline should include clearly published missing-under-18 protocols with time-bound checks, escalation to police and social care, and named designated safeguarding lead responsibility shared with the university partner – not just a helpline.

There should be safer-recruitment expectations for anyone with room access in under-18 buildings, including DBS checks for accommodation staff and contractors who may be alone with children. “They carry ID” is not a control.

There should be proactive health and welfare arrangements – medication support options, agreed plans for short-term incapacity and an emergency “welfare cover” pathway that does not default to “go home.” Age-segregated or safeguarded floors with curated guest policies and sign-in, underpinned by consistent night cover and regular welfare rounds should also be there – especially in the first term.

Above all, a shift in tone is needed – rather than “we will not act in loco parentis”, we should see something like “we recognise these students are children and here is how we will keep them safe while promoting independence” with transparent joint-working protocols with the host university.

Independence matters. But independence without an explicit safety net for children is a policy choice – and a risky one – that partner universities should not be comfortable outsourcing.