The Conservative party has promised to cull “poor quality” higher education courses, and fund apprenticeships with the proceeds. For David Kernohan neither the numbers or the ideas stack up
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In its latest election announcement, the Conservative party appears to want to close 13 per cent of the “poorest performing” undergraduate courses in England’s higher education system.
It says it will be dumping the “£910m savings” (after accounting for behavioral changes) into 100,000 new apprenticeships.
Former apprentice Gillian Keegan is on hand to say:
There are no limits to where an apprenticeship can take you. Mine took me from a car factory in Kirkby to the Cabinet.
Alas there was no space for her to reflect on the impact of her undergraduate degree in business from Liverpool John Moores University, or her MSc from London Business School.
It’s not the first time that the party has announced a action on poor quality courses. We’ve heard variations on this idea this time last year, in 2022, in 2021, 2020, 2019, 2018.
The spin is that this policy represents a direct replacement – a straight swap – of problematic degrees with marvelous apprenticeships. Forget Augar’s “other 50 per cent” – the idea is to swap some of the existing 50 per cent into other routes.
The trouble is that 13 per cent of the current undergraduate population is about 265,500.
The party reckons (there’s not really another word here) that 50 per cent of this displaced cohort (132,750) will do an apprenticeship instead, 25 per cent (66,375) will go straight into employment, and the remainder (another 66,375) will take a “better, high quality, course”.
Perhaps some of them will take a maths course, where they might learn that if you are creating 100,000 new apprenticeships, then you will be 32,750 short.
Meanwhile, we also need 66,375 new home student spaces on existing courses – courses that will somehow remain high quality with extra students that cost more than the current fee cap (£9,250) to educate.
And is £1 out of every £4 borrowed by students never paid back, as the party contests to justify this fresh push on “low value” courses?
It was true a while ago (indeed, it was a deliberate design feature of the funding system), but after their own changes to repayments (40 rather than 30 years repayment, a lower repayment threshold, and the removal of real interest rates) the current cohort will repay as graduates £3.48 out of every £4 – and 79 per cent (according to the Institute for Fiscal Studies) will repay their loans in full.
(Estimates on the RAB charge vary. London Economics reckon that after the recent changes, the government is chipping in just 4p in the pound in subsidy. That would generate nothing like the savings the Conservatives are trying to divert here)
How do we figure out which courses are the bad ones? Well, I’ve spent a good few years trying to track them down in various bits of sector data, with vanishingly little success. That’s not to say there are not bad courses out there – the sector is huge, variable, and ever-changing so it stands to reason that there are some courses that some of the time are not as good as they could be.
These do generally get tracked down by accreditors and professional bodies, by provider internal quality assurance, by student feedback, and by notifications sent to the regulator. And they get improved – or closed – largely without ministerial interventions.
The Conservative answer is to use “existing and well-established quality controls known as B3” (that’s continuation, completion, and progression to a “good” graduate destination) along with (“in future”) earnings. None of these datasets are routinely available at course level, of course – but I’ve sat through enough of these crackdowns over the last four years to accept that what is actually meant is subject areas within a provider.
Each of these metrics is a lagging indicator. We don’t know how many students continue on their course until midway through the course – we don’t know how many students finish their course until the end of it.
And we don’t know what graduates end up doing until at least a year after the end of the course – with sensible salary data generally perceived as emerging after about three to five years later.
We got a bunch of what represents the state of the art for salary data, the Longitudinal Educational Outcomes (LEO) dataset, only last week. It covers graduate earnings in the 2020-21 tax year, and the Department of Education is careful to note that we were in the middle of a pandemic at that point so things were a bit odd.
There have been rumblings of a newer and fancier salary metric (as Jim picked up last week) that can address some of the Social Mobility Commission (SMC) critiques of the LEO approach, and indeed some of mine.
To give Kernohan’s Law its annual outing:
You can’t meaningfully examine output metrics without controlling for sex, background characteristics, subject, provider, and region of residence, and any attempt to do this makes for unusably small sample sizes.
To which we could add a codicil: even if an output metric that satisfied that law existed, the findings would be constrained by exogenous impacts on graduate recruitment, like pandemics.
If anyone can square this irregular dodecahedron, it’s the Institute for Fiscal Studies. And that’s who DfE have turned to, with a specific request to abandon the benchmark-free orthodoxy that has marred social mobility in recent years. LEO 2.0 will actively control for the impact of disadvantaged backgrounds.
Meanwhile this is what LEO classic looks like:
You can filter at the top by subject, years after graduation, tax year (2021-22 is the latest, but you can go back to 2015-16), and sex – and use the highlighter to find a provider of interest. If you mouse over a blob or bar at the top, you can see a relevant time series for the provider, subject, sex, and number of years after graduation in question. The pale bars are the median prior attainment of the graduates in question, which illustrates another issue – salary is inversely correlated with prior advantage (do look up business at Liverpool John Moores University, by the way).
That’s an important point and one worth hanging on to. As a way of illustrating this issue I’ve plotted the proportion from POLAR quintile 1 on the vertical axis, and the median UCAS points on the horizontal axis. The size of the dots corresponds to the number of UK graduates, and the intensity of their purpleness corresponds to the median salary (more purple equals more money. (For reasons best known to itself, DfE has not published prior attainment data for graduates of Scottish, Welsh, and Northern Irish providers – I’ve left these on the axis.)
Each subject area shows the familiar wedge-shaped plot (though it is less noticeable with healthcare related subjects). People with higher pre-18 academic achievement go to one group of universities, people from POLAR quintile 1 backgrounds go to another, and – typically – those who go to the first group tend to earn more money. We don’t get to add in the region of employment with these statistics, but it is fair to guess that most of the top earners move to London too.
In other words, it is likely that something other than the choice of provider is causing much of the salary disparities that we see on the more traditional LEO chart above.
Thing is, there’s a LEO for apprentices too. And it is an awkward read for those who claim that apprenticeships lead to a higher salary.
The tale that is not often told when politicians talk about apprenticeships is that much of the recent growth has been among those already in employment. The data that does exist suggests that average earnings among those who have completed higher apprenticeships are high, but this is skewed by a fair number of senior managers who were already earning well before they started an apprenticeship in, er, management.
The most recent iterations of this data add some more data points, but the point that the big money is in management returns – and earnings among the kind of thing that less academically-inclined 18 year olds might do are a fair but lower – still holds. That’s not to say that apprenticeships are a bad idea – far from it – but they are not the panacea that is often painted.
Nobody was really expecting higher education to play a role in this election. What we have here is a repeat of something that has been announced and re-announced on a regular basis, with little impact other than a flurry of headlines.
Vocational and academic routes are not competing routes to be played off one against the other, there’s no easy way to spot and cull “poor quality courses” in any setting (other than direct student engagement or proper quality assurance), and any successful economy needs a range of post-18 destinations to provide the skilled workers that global competition dictates we need.
Because there’s no sensible metric that can identify any poor quality courses that may be happening right now, there’s no way to know if we’d be losing the chance to train young people in the skills we need in future at good local universities. Or via the (strangely absent from this announcement) flagship lifelong learning entitlement.
And there is no way of knowing what the quality of any course would be like in a world where it was properly funded and resourced.
Debbie McVitty | Comment | 11/11/26