Has Scottish public opinion really turned against free education?

The data doesn’t quite say that. But if we zoom out and think about why fees are free in the first place – higher education framed as a public good – there are interesting insights here that deserve a look.

For example – among those who’ve attended university, 88 per cent consider it personally worthwhile – with nearly six in ten declaring it “definitely worthwhile.” But when asked whether university remains valuable for today’s generation, confidence drops off. Then only 63 per cent believe it’s worth it, with just 21 per cent expressing a strong conviction.

Geographic divides

The geography of opportunity remains uneven across Scotland. While 25 per cent of all respondents here think they live within five miles of a university, this rises dramatically in Glasgow (52 per cent) and Lothian (51 per cent), and falls to just 8 per cent in Central Scotland and 13 per cent in the Highlands and Islands, despite the existence of UHI.

University attendance is much higher in urban areas (27 per cent) compared to rural areas (21 per cent) – a reminder that geography still governs opportunity. Even knowing you’re living near a university doesn’t guarantee engagement with it.

When viewed through a socioeconomic lens, patterns of inequality become impossible to ignore. In this sample residents of the most deprived areas (SIMD quintile 1) are not only less likely to have attended university, and those who do are less convinced of its value – only 62 per cent found it “definitely worthwhile” compared to 71 per cent in the least deprived areas.

And when asked whether university is worth it for people today, just 42 per cent from the most deprived areas affirm its value, compared to 52 per cent in the least deprived regions.

Class divides then extend into graduate outcomes in interesting ways. Among graduates earning over £100,000, 94 per cent believe university was worthwhile, compared to just 73 per cent among those earning under £26,000. More striking still is the 29-point gap in those who describe it as “definitely worthwhile” – 60 per cent for the lowest earners, 94 per cent for the highest.

Value calculation

In this polling, the perceived value of university education is closely bound to employment outcomes and earning potential. When asked why university is worth it, respondents overwhelmingly cite pragmatic reasons – training for a specific career (67 per cent) and improving job prospects or income (66 per cent).

Far fewer mention personal growth or societal contribution. Here, value is measured in personal pounds, not principles.

That utilitarian view appears across demographics but manifests differently. Ethnic minority respondents – though representing a small sample (n=41) – are more likely to be graduates (57 per cent vs 26 per cent among white respondents), more likely to believe university is worth it today (64 per cent vs 63 per cent), and crucially, more likely to say it helped them train for a specific career (81 per cent vs 67 per cent).

Interestingly, people who know “a great deal or fair amount” about university funding are more likely to support its value (NET worth-it score: 49 per cent) compared to those who know “just a little or nothing” (37 per cent). This suggests that information and confidence shape opinion – maybe we need better public education about education itself.

An interesting generational pattern emerges when you look at attitudes by age. Among 65–74-year-olds, 80 per cent said their university experience was “definitely worthwhile.” Yet across all older age groups, fewer believe university remains valuable today. Only 36 per cent of respondents aged 75 and older consider it “definitely worth it” for current generations.

Satisfaction with one’s own experience coupled with skepticism about the current system is almost certainly commentary on massification – older generations who benefited from more straightforward career pathways express doubt about whether today’s university experience offers the same value.

The data also reveals patterns over alternative routes through higher education. Only 7 per cent of respondents graduated via part-time or distance learning, and these individuals report lower satisfaction rates – just 46 per cent say it was “definitely worthwhile” compared to 59 per cent overall, and they’re more likely to select “probably” or “neither/nor.”

It suggests that “alternative” educational pathways are still perceived – even by students/learners themselves – as second-tier options, perhaps reflecting inadequate support structures, perceptions of legitimacy, or practical issues like isolation.

Health status is another factor re access and perceived value. Respondents with long-term health conditions are notably less likely to have attended university at all, less likely to find it “definitely worthwhile” (51 per cent vs 62 per cent among those without health conditions), and less likely to believe it’s worth it for people today (51 per cent vs 63 per cent).

That all hints at exclusion, insufficient support, or both.

Who should pay?

Table 39 is the source of much of the coverage.

Only 44 per cent of Scots believe the government should fully fund tuition fees for all first-time undergraduates. 43 per cent support a means-tested model, where the government pays for students from low-income households, but expects contributions from those who can afford it. Just 3 per cent believe students should pay the full cost themselves, and only 7 per cent support partial contributions based on income.

That does also mean that nine in ten Scots support some form of public funding. The division lies not in whether the state should contribute, but whether that support should be universal or targeted.

Support for full funding dips noticeably among older Scots, higher earners, and graduates themselves. Just 41 per cent of over-75s support full public funding, compared to 63 per cent of 18–34s. Meanwhile, graduates are more likely than non-graduates to favour models that include student contributions – perhaps reflecting a belief in giving back, or a lived familiarity with the system that reframes their expectations.

That divergence points at a deeper tension between idealism and individual return – the more you’ve benefitted from the system, the more you may feel responsible for sustaining it. But it also raises questions about intergenerational fairness – are younger people being expected to accept less generous terms than those who came before?

When asked who should be prioritised if funding is limited, the public is pretty progressive. Table 59 shows that low-income households (65 per cent) and people from disadvantaged backgrounds (55 per cent) top the list. Carers, disabled students, and refugees sit in the middle tier, while high academic achievers (13 per cent) and first-generation university students (11 per cent) are at the bottom.

And when it comes to alternatives to public funding? They barely register. Only 32 per cent support a graduate payment model (Table 54), and just 39 per cent support employer contributions (Table 58) – even though 31 per cent oppose the latter outright. Other ideas, like charging for second degrees or asking wealthy graduates to pay more, also fail to pick up majority backing.

People want a model that works – but they don’t want debt by another name. Even when asked to consider seemingly fair or delayed repayment models, resistance runs deep.

What’s “fair” also shifts dramatically with income. Table 61 shows that among those who accept tuition fees in principle, 42 per cent say under £3,000 a year is reasonable, while only 5 per cent think over £7,500 is justifiable. That’s a clear rejection of the fee levels used in England. Among those earning over £100,000, 40 per cent support charging more than £5,000 per year. Among those earning under £26,000, just 17 per cent agree.

So any reintroduction of a fee-based model would require very careful framing – because public support is both conditional and sensitive to perceived fairness.

The other notable thing is that despite the strong opinions, few people really understand how university funding in Scotland works. Only 7 per cent say they know “a great deal” about it (Table 38), and 65 per cent say they know “just a little” or “nothing at all”.

The mismatch matters. It means opinions are shaped more by values, identity, and lived experience than by detailed knowledge. It also opens up an opportunity – better public understanding of the system could support reform. But that same transparency could also reveal uncomfortable truths and generate pushback, especially if people feel they’ve been sold an ideal that no longer exists.

The public good

Scotland’s public broadly maintains support for university education, especially as a route to better employment and financial security. But belief in its universal value appears to be eroding – undermined by inequalities, lived experiences, and a generational shift in expectations. The data suggests people want opportunity – but also clarity, fairness, and tangible outcomes.

The polling also doesn’t really get into the trade offs – should fewer go? If you had to put money in, who would it come from? And so on.

The free fees policy in Scotland was established around the principle of higher education as a public good – insights from this data don’t suggest a clamour for fees, but they do point to areas where the public good narrative needs strengthening.

First, addressing geographic disparities through better outreach and support for students from underrepresented regions. Second, narrowing the outcome gaps between highest and lowest graduate earners to demonstrate that university enables social mobility. Third, improving support for alternative learning pathways so they aren’t perceived as lesser options. Finally, removing barriers for those with health conditions to create a genuinely inclusive system.

The public still largely believes in higher education’s value – but that that value needs to be more fairly distributed.