It is becoming difficult to ignore potential tension between the internationalisation of higher education and plans to cut net migration. Recent UK government policies, such as the reduction of the graduate visa from two years to 18 months, could have severe consequences for universities in Scotland.
Scottish government funding per home student has not kept pace with inflation. To compensate for the subsequent gap in resources, universities have become more dependent on international enrolments.
In addition, Scotland faces specific demographic challenges. By 2075, the number of working aged Scots is predicted to fall by 14.7 per cent and, without migration, the population would be in decline. Encouraging young people to remain after graduation could help to balance the ageing population. However, although the Scottish government favours a more generous post-study visa route, this is not supported by Westminster.
Ability to adjust
Rhetoric around internationalisation tends to emphasise positive factors such as increased diversity and cross-cultural exchange. Yet, as an English for Academic Purposes (EAP) practitioner, I have long been concerned that learners from diverse linguistic backgrounds are often viewed through a lens of deficiency. There is also a risk that their own needs will be overlooked in the midst of political and economic debate.
To better understand how students’ sense of identity is affected by moving into new educational and social settings, I carried out interview-based research at a Scottish university. Like other “prestigious” institutions, it attracts a large number of applicants from abroad. In particular, some taught master’s degrees (such as those in the field of language education) are dominated by Chinese nationals. Indeed, when recruiting postgraduate interviewees, I was not surprised when only two (out of 11) came from other countries (Thailand and Japan).
My analysis of data revealed typical reasons for choosing the university: ranking, reputation and the shorter duration of master’s courses. Participants described being met with unfamiliar expectations on arrival, especially as regards writing essays and contributing to discussion. For some, this challenged their previous identities as competent individuals with advanced English skills. These issues were exacerbated in “all-white” classes, where being in the minority heightened linguistic anxiety and the fear of being judged. They had varied experiences of group work: several reported – not necessarily intentional but nonetheless problematic – segregation of students by nationality, undermining the notion that a multi-national population results in close mixing on campus.
In a survey administered to a wider cohort of respondents on a pre-sessional EAP programme, the majority agreed or strongly agreed when asked if they would befriend British people while at university.
However, making such connections is far from straightforward. International students are sometimes criticised for socialising in monocultural groups and failing to fully “fit in”. However, the fatigue of living one’s life in another language and simultaneously coping with academic demands means that getting to know locals is not a priority. At the same time, research participants expressed regret at the lack of opportunity to interact with other nationalities, with one remarking, “if everyone around me is Chinese, why did I choose to study abroad?” Some encountered prejudice or marginalisation, reporting that they felt ignored by “fluent” speakers of English. Understandably, this had a detrimental effect on their ability to adjust.
Different ways to belong
To gain different perspectives, I also spoke with teachers who work with international students. EAP tutors believed that their classes offer a safe space for them to gain confidence and become used to a new way of working. However, they wondered whether there would be a similarly supportive atmosphere in mainstream university settings. Subject lecturers did not invoke phrases such as “dumbing down”, but several had altered their teaching methods to better suit learners from non-Anglophone backgrounds.
In addition, they questioned whether internationalisation always equated to diversity. One commented on the advantages of having a “multicultural quality”, but added that it “has to be a mix” – something which is not possible if, like on her course, there are no Scottish students. Another mentioned that the propensity to “stick with your own people” is not a uniquely Chinese phenomenon, but common behaviour regardless of background.
A few academics had noticed that most Chinese students take an attitude of, “I’m doing my (one-year) master’s and maybe then I have to move back to China.” Chinese students are less likely than some other nationalities to apply for a graduate visa, suggesting that their investment in a degree abroad is of a transactional nature.
The majority of survey respondents indicated that they would adapt to a new way of life while living abroad. However, during my last conversation with focal interviewees, I uncovered different levels of belonging, ranging from, “I feel like I’m from Scotland”, to “my heart was always in China”, to “I don’t have any home.” Participants generally viewed their stay as temporary: in fact, all but the Japanese student (who accepted a job in the US) returned to their home country after graduation. Although they described their time in Scotland in mostly positive terms, some were disappointed that it had not provided a truly intercultural experience.
Meltdown
It is clear that universities in Scotland have become overly reliant on international tuition for their financial sustainability. At the same time, there is conflict between the devolved administration’s depiction of Scotland as outward looking and welcoming, and the reality of stricter migration policies over which it has no control.
Discourses which position international students as outsiders who add to high immigration numbers could deter some from coming. If they are seen only as economic assets, their own cultural capital and agency might be neglected. It is also important to problematise the notion of “integration”: even my small study suggests that there are different ways of belonging. No group of learners is homogeneous: even if they come from the same country, individual experiences will differ.
To navigate the current financial crisis, Scottish universities need to do everything possible to maintain their appeal. With elections being held next year, higher education policy will continue to be a key area of discussion. At present, there are no plans to introduce fees for home students, making revenue from international tuition all the more essential.
However, at a time of global uncertainty, taking overseas students for granted feels enormously unwise. Instead, it is crucial to ask how they can be made to feel like valued members of the academic community. The answer to this question might be different for everyone, but engaging with students themselves, rather than relying on unhelpful assumptions, would be a start.
