Universities are having to make intellectual compromises in their pursuit of bums on seats, but many lecturers are reluctant to speak out for fear of losing their jobs or ruining reputations. Mandy Garner and Pat Leon report on the difficulties of teaching the masses in the second in our series Pushing 50.
"Dumbing down has become a fact of life. There is no question about it," says Bob Brecher, reader in moral philosophy at the University of Brighton.
He says the result of years of widening participation without increasing general funding to universities have taken their toll on teaching styles. Increased ratios between faculty and students, cramped conditions in lecture halls and classrooms and a growing gap between the level of entrants and between those who want to learn and those who are just there for the qualification have forced universities to adopt solutions that Brecher believes have proved disastrous. He is one of an increasing number of academics who, despite being in favour of widening participation, are questioning the way it is being implemented and its effects on teaching.
But many are reluctant to speak out because they fear they will lose their jobs or damage the reputation of their university at a time when funding is being increasingly linked to the kind of initiatives they are criticising.
Many spoke to The THES on condition of anonymity. One history lecturer says the pressure to keep bums on seats in particular modules has led to academics going for entertainment value in lectures - what he calls "gossip" - over the basics of British history. A research fellow describes how an overseas student submitted a dissertation without bothering to remove the name of its real author from the cover. "She was the first undergraduate from a country where the university hoped to draw many recruits. Guess whether or not she passed?"
Another academic who was deeply critical of the changes the new system has brought to teaching told The THES : "My contract is due to expire shortly and I have decided - like others - that it would be wiser not to bite the hand that feeds."
Frank Furedi, a sociology lecturer at the University of Kent at Canterbury and a regular contributor to The THES , says that people who contact him about his articles often say that they wished they could say what he does. "At first I thought they weren't telling the truth, but then I realised they were actually scared - often, I think, unnecessarily."
He believes, however, that there is "a veritable movement of bureaucrats who are absolutely zealous" in supporting anything that gets more bums on seats, even if it is to the detriment of encouraging critical thinking.
"They take it very personally if anyone raises any criticism, but they need to understand that within universities there is a huge constituency of people who are very cynical as well as some who are actively against widening participation." Like Brecher, he is not against widening participation, but he thinks schools and universities have failed students. "It is not just about resources. Even if they put in billions of pounds, it would still be bad if the students are not properly educated before they get here. The problems begin in school, but they are rendered grotesque by what we do."
He believes the main problem is that universities have made "intellectual compromises" to attract more students, including those who do not really want to be there. In sociology, this has meant leaving out the hard analytical and theoretical elements of courses or "recasting them in soundbites". He speaks of "about 30-35 per cent" of students who are "completely indifferent" about studying. "If you ask them what they have read for a seminar, they look insulted."
Although Brecher also believes that universities have made intellectual compromises, he thinks the root of the problem is ideological.
His main complaint is against modularisation, which he believes is an ideologically driven attempt to fragment and commodify higher education.
It has, he says, turned education into "information to consume rather than something to be thought critically about".
For him, modularisation has been embraced as a way of making higher education cheaper in a mass system, but has instead undermined university teaching by creating an internal market where lecturers have to vie for popularity to get bums on seats and has given students a "fragmented view of knowledge".
"It fragments the student experience and staff input. Even the language has changed. People talk about delivering a module, not teaching. It is the wrong conception of what critical education is about. Education is being turned into something you can buy in a supermarket." He blames universities and staff as well as the government for failing to see what modularisation would bring in its wake, such as increasing casualisation of higher education.
Furedi disagrees that modularisation is the problem. "A system that gives students more choice would be wonderful," he says. He just does not believe the current system is a good one.
Others reject the notion that widening participation has brought negative effects.
Stephen Rowland, professor of higher education at University College London, says: "There is this idea that we are widening access to students who are less good at learning. It is a common view but it is incorrect. Some students will be, some won't. It depends on the context. Widening access is not about bringing backward students up to scratch."
Australian educationalist John Biggs distinguishes two types of student - those who tend to believe that rote learning and regurgitating material will get them through and those who basically teach themselves. Nowadays there may be more of the former than the latter, but the problem has always been there. In the past, he says, "it was the students who were doing the work and getting the results, not our teaching".
But what academics question is what is meant by teaching. Is it teaching as it is understood in schools - a style that is increasingly creeping into the university system - or is it something different? And should it adapt to current pressures?
Most academics agree that student learning styles have changed over the past two decades. This is not surprising given the greater diversity of students in terms of age, culture, physical ability, qualifications, experience, whether they study full or part time, on or off campus and given the increasing use of technology in the lecture theatre and classroom.
Brenda Smith, head of the Learning and Teaching Support Network's generic centre, says supporting non-traditional students is vital, whether it is through induction courses or mentoring. "If we say students are suitable to enter higher education, then we have to expect that they are going to be successful. That means it is important to ensure we support them," she says.
The Institute for Learning and Teaching also emphasises a student-centred approach that caters to their changing needs.
Furedi, however, is critical. "Talk of student-centred teaching is ideological," he says. "When the ILT talks about things being student-centred it means 'don't give the students a hard time', allow them to drift, reorganise your teaching strategies around drift. It is not about being student-centred, it is about being bureaucrat-centred. We are not doing brilliant things for students." Clearly academics are divided on what constitutes good teaching in a mass system with limited personal contact between lecturer and student. At one extreme, there is the Open University model where associate lecturers "facilitate" rather than teach and the teaching is done through course material. At the other, is the traditional lecture and seminar approach.
For Furedi, good teaching is about being flexible, adapting the material to the audience and challenging students. In his first lecture, he tells students that his course will be difficult and challenging and that not all of the students will like it. "Some people get up and leave at this point but others come along because they want a challenge. It makes a virtue of the fact that teaching should confront you and it makes students feel that they are being taken seriously."
He is critical of the growing reliance on technology such as PowerPoint, which he has never used. Although he acknowledges it can be useful for data, he thinks it is basically "avoiding teaching". He says others were incredulous when he told them. "They even found it disturbing. Maybe I am arrogant," he says, "but I think that if I can't keep the students'
attention for an hour without using gadgets to amuse them, I might as well be working in a nursery."
But technology need not encourage passivity, says John O'Donoghue, head of pedagogic research at the Wolverhampton-based National Research Centre for ICT in Education, Training and Employment. "The 'e' in e-learning is not just about delivery but about enhancing, encouraging and exploiting learning," he says.
O'Donoghue believes that course designers have to identify which multimedia method works best for their type of students. For example, should group discussion be via video-conferencing or will basic email messages achieve the same end? "Tutors also need to be aware of where and when learning occurs - it is certainly not in the classroom and not solely through tutor-student interactions," he says.
Rowland worries that virtual learning environments must leave space for interaction and critical thought. "If not, it will be similar to the programmed learning of the 1950s when students were taken through structured questions. If they got the question wrong, they went down one path, if right, another."
Similar concerns lurk behind the claim that technology means students can learn anytime, anywhere. While some may argue that this has always been the case, if more courses fix weekly assessments or regular assignments via computer, the learner whose style is to learn in bursts is penalised. Big Brother will be watching their log-ons.
Next week: vocationalisation