What could/should be done about Oxbridge in a deal on tuition fees?

Yesterday, there was much comment about how Oxford and Cambridge universities should jolly well make more effort to admit more students from more disadvantaged backgrounds if they're going to charge £9,000 in tuition fees.

But what can be done, what difference could it make and how likely would they be to do anything that radically changed the ways they've always done things?

As a start to answering these questions, here are some true stories from the chalk face to show that it's (a) quite possible to bias an admissions system without causing any decline in the standard of degree results and (b) unlikely to happen at Oxbridge until or unless change is imposed upon them.

No correlation between A level and degree results
In the early 1970s, I was a departmental admissions tutor at one of the post-Robbins new universities. As I hadn't a clue how to do the job - and there was little or no advice to be had from anyone else - I thought I'd better do some research into the subject.

To my surprise, I found that educational researchers at the time had been unable to find any statistically significant correlation between high grades at GCE 'O' and 'A' level and high class degrees (defined as 2:1 and above). Nor did it make any difference what subjects were taken or which university was attended - with one notable and intriguing exception.

The Joint Matriculation Board (formerly Northern Universities) used to run an 'A' level paper in 'general studies', which many admissions tutors mistakenly thought was far too general to be worth counting in deciding whether or not to offer an applicant a place - mistaken because the JMB general paper was the only 'A' level subject that actually did correlate strongly with eventual degree performance: i.e. a good pass at that was a strong predictor of a class 2:1 or 1st class degree (regardless of degree subject).

These findings were, I learnt, widely known among other admissions tutors but, as far as I could tell, were not taken into account in the way they approached the job.

An admissions system with a bias against the privileged
So I set about creating an admissions procedure for our department with a deliberately built-in bias towards applicants from under-privileged backgrounds. After all, if good good GCE results were unreliable predictors of good degree performances, what was the point of placing so much weight on them? And if the JMB general paper was a good predictor, why didn't we place more weight on that?

So I devised a points system, the full details of which escape me 40 years later. But I do remember that part of it involved awarding different scores to applicants from different types of schools - that went roughly as follows:

Fee-paying school: 0
Direct-grant grammar school: 1
State grammar school: 2
Comprehensive school: 3
Secondary modern school: 4
Local technical college: 4

The more points a candidate scored on this (and various other scales), the more likely he or she would be to get an offer of a place.

Reaction?
Left-wing colleagues around the university were very positive about it and some even tried to get their own departments to model their own admissions procedures on ours. That may have been predictable enough, but what was more surprising was that it wasn't unanimously dismissed by more conservative elements on the staff.

One keen Tory, who happened to be head of the admissions department in the university's central administration, loved it and tried to persuade other departments to do something similar. He saw it as being efficient and rational - so efficient and rational (and this was probably why he liked it so much), that he could issue my score card to his assistants and delegate them to do the job for us - which they were able to do much more quickly than when processing UCCA forms from other departments.

Degree results?
As far as I know, degree results achieved by those admitted to our department by this overtly slanted admissions procedure were no worse than they would otherwise have been.

And, in retrospect, I have only one regret - about the applicant who scored so highly on my score card that I made him a very low conditional offer (2 E grade 'A' level passes). His headmaster was furious, and phoned me up to complain that the boy had the potential to get into Oxbridge and it was disgraceful that I was not only tempting him not to carry on working for his 'A' levels (which he didn't) but was also trying to entice him away to one of these jumped-up new universities.

Although the boy went on to get a 1st class honours degree and eventually became a university professor, I still have a slight sense of guilt. As we all know (and knew then), there are certain career advantages in having an Oxbridge degree - and I still worry that I may have restricted the opportunities he might have had if I hadn't worked so hard to get him to accept our ridiculously attractive offer.

Why Oxbridge is unlikely to do likewise
Later on, my last full-time academic job was as a fellow of an Oxford college. Although it only catered for post-graduate students, I had colleagues and friends who were fellows of undergraduate colleges and who were actively involved in the admissions process.

1. The case of the middle-class Marxist
On one occasion, I went to a meeting attended by a rather famous left-wing intellectual, who certainly supported the admission of students from a much wider range of backgrounds - at least in principle.

He'd just spent the morning interviewing applicants for places in his college and arrived complaining about how difficult and frustrating he was finding it all:

"However much I want to accept students from state schools, the problem is that the ones from public school come across so much better - and it wouldn't be fair to turn them down in favour of people who just aren't as good as them."

It didn't seem to have crossed his mind that his difficulties (and decisions) might have had something to do with the fact that he was a graduate of the same college where he was now a fellow and had formerly attended a well-known public school

2. A surprising revelation
Another colleague told me of an incident at an interview in which a prospective student had suddenly broken down and become a trembling wreck. When the interviewers asked him what the matter was, he replied: "Well, I haven't heard that one before." When they asked him what he meant by that, he spilled some rather interesting beans.

It turned out that his (fee-paying) school had a policy of getting all their pupils who ever went to an Oxford interview to write down, immediately afterwards, all the questions they could remember having been asked. These then went into a data-base that was used to coach all their future Oxford candidates before they went off for their interviews.

It was (and still is) a school with an outstanding record of getting its pupils into Oxbridge.

What chance of change?
It's about 25 years since I left Oxford, so I've no idea whether or not the university is still at the mercy of dons with an implicit (though reluctant, of course) bias towards public school applicants and fee-paying schools with systematic and effective ways of coaching their pupils in interview techniques

If it is, there seems little chance of shifting the balance to give pupils from state schools a better chance. Nor, when so many of our top politicians (in all parties) are products of the same public school-Oxbridge conveyor belt, does it seem likely that any of them will go very far beyond recommending change towards insisting on change.

Time to impose a built in bias
My solution would be to set up a controlled experiment along the lines of the admissions system I devised 40 years ago: build a bias in favour of students from less privileged backgrounds into the way Oxbridge colleges allocate places for a trial period of, say, three years. Then monitor the results to see if there's been any decline in degree performance.

If, as used to be the case, there's as little correlation between degree results and GCSEs as there used to be between GCEs and degree results,* there would surely be nothing to lose and everything to gain - if, of course, our politicians really do believe in making the opportunities available to our young people a good deal more equal than they are at present.

* P.S. Since writing this, I've just heard some fascinating news via Twitter from @SalBrinton, to whom many thanks. According to a recent and pretty respectable looking piece of research, comprehensive pupils outperform independent and grammar school pupils in university degrees.

On the face of it, this sounds to me like further evidence in support of weighting univerity admissions procedures in favour of pupils from the state sector...

In praise of parliamentary rowdiness

Following today's Prime Minister's Question Time, Patrick O'Flynn, chief political commentator at the the Daily Express, made an interesting point on Twitter about the Speaker's attempts to deter MPs from booing, heckling and cheering so vigorously (via @oflynnexpress):

"Bercow overdoing the 'calm down' stuff on PMQs. Many of us think ideas must be aggressively scrutinised and don't hate the rumpus."

I don't hate the rumpus either - but for rather more technical reasons that have to with providing incentives for our representatives to pay attention to what each other is saying during parliamentary proceedings.

Rowdiness and the debate about broadcasting parliament
My research into speaker-audience interaction started fairly soon after broadcasts from the House of Commons first began (radio only) in 1975. In the debates leading up to it, I remember being amused and baffled by arguments from the opponents along the lines that it shouldn't be allowed because the rowdy behaviour of MPs would set a bad example to the young.

My interest in audience responses to different forms of public speaking had already reached the point of realising that the central problem for listeners to speeches was that the primary incentive for paying attention in conversation (i.e. the threat that you might have to start speaking any second now) is massively eroded for audiences: once you know that you won't get a chance to speak for the next 10 or 20 minutes, staying awake can become a serious problem

As I've written elsewhere: 'The reason why applause in political speeches seemed a promising place to start was because it provides instant and unambiguous evidence that listeners are (a) awake and paying close attention and (b) approve strongly enough of what’s just been said to show their approval of it (by clapping hands, cheering, etc.).'

Rowdiness as a powerful incentive to pay attention
In Lend Me Your Ears (pp. 32-33), I touched on the issue of negative audience responses as follows:

'.. the apparently rowdy behaviour of British Members of Parliament during debates in the House of Commons may have some rather more positive benefits than its negative public image would suggest. After all, if the odds of being called upon to speak are as poor as one in several hundred, there's so little chance of getting the next turn that you might as well go to sleep. But the tradition of cheering, booing and heckling not only provides an alternative way of expressing a view, it also give members more of a reason to listen. To be effective, booing and cheering require a degree of precision timing that can only be achieved by paying attention closely enough to be able to identify statements worth responding to.'

Rowdiness and democracy
If, like me, you think it's rather a good idea for our representatives to pay close attention to what others are saying in parliamentary exchanges, getting our MP's to 'calm down', as recommended by Mr Speaker Berkow, would be a rather bad idea.

And, if you don't believe me, go and watch some legislative assemblies in other countries where there is no tradition of audience participation. If you do, you'll be as amazed as I've been on quite a number of occasions by what I saw: when one person is speaking, most of the others spend most of their time going through their brief cases, sorting out papers, reading them and generally showing no sign whatsoever of listening to anything said by anyone else.

In the face of such indifference from other members, the speakers themselves typically deliver their speeches with marginally less passion and conviction than a weather broadcaster reading out the latest shipping forecast.

Further reading:
  • Clayman, Steven E. 1992 "Caveat Orator: Audience Disaffiliation in the 1988 Presidential Debates." The Quarterly Journal of Speech 78: 33-60 (Download PDF).

The Big Society and the resurrection of guilt-edged philanthropy?

The mystery of David Cameron's 'big society' is still bubbling along - from an ernest discussion of philanthropy on Newsnight a week or so ago to an erudite editorial in today's Guardian.

In response to the former, I was so unimpressed by the moralising waffle from the 'expert' guests that I tweeted something along the lines of "any first year sociology student could surely do a better job than this" on Twitter.

What I had in mind was that any first year sociology student will have been exposed to Max Weber's classic thesis on the Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, which didn't get a mention from any of Newnight's 'experts' (at least while I was watching).

Weber in a nutshell
Central to Weber's argument was that Protestantism, especially the Calvinistic variety, was a powerful incentive to work hard, because work would keep you on the straight and narrow and protect you from sin. If this resulted in your accumulating wealth and spending it on yourself, you'd be veering back towards sin, so you'd better plough it back into the business - which would then grow further and offer yet more temptations, so you'd better plough that back into the business as well - and accumulate more wealth, etc., etc.

That, according to Weber, was what had spurred enterprise and capitalism to grow so strongly in protestant countries. But, as old age approached, the best way for the wealthy to avoid sin - and to save their offspring from the temptation of spending it all on themselves (i.e. sinning) - was to give large chunks of their capital away to worthy causes, as exemplified by famous English philanthropists like Lord Leverhulme and Joseph Rowntree.

Is British philanthropy a thing of the past?
One of the complaints being made by some of the pundits in the media (e.g. in the Newsnight programme mentioned above) has been that Britain's current generation of super-rich, unlike some of their counterparts in the USA, are much less philanthropic than their predecessors.

I have no idea how accurate a claim this is (as I could name at least one English billionaire who gives rather a lot of his money away - but does so without having his name attached to any of the benefits he pays for).

A legacy of the 1960s?
However, I am inclined to believe that there may well be fewer British philanthropists than there used to be, because I also happen to believe that the decline of the Protestant Ethic - i.e. a major motivation for philanthropy, according to Weber - may have been a hidden and lasting legacy from the 1960s.

I'm not suggesting that the sixties saw a sudden reduction in British puritanism in any particularly religious sense, but rather that people started to feel less guilty about enjoying leisure activities when they could/should have been working.

Work, leisure and guilt
My evidence is admittedly rather flimsy and personal, as it comes from noticing how some of my academic colleagues during the 1970s-80s, only a few years younger than me, seemed to have no qualms at all about taking whole afternoons off work to play golf or cricket - whereas I, along with others of a similar age, felt thoroughly guilty about taking as much an hour off to play squash, even though we had no particular commitment to Calvinism or any other form of protestantism.

In other words, when it came to feeling guilt about not working, there seemed to be a big difference between those of us born before 1950 and those born after 1950, perhaps because the younger cohort had spent more of their youth growing up during the swinging sixties than we had.

If there's any truth at all in this, more of today's British super-rich are also likely to have been born since 1950, in which case they're probably much less afflicted by feelings of guilt about spending their money on themselves than the wealthy once were. And, if the guilt factor has declined, it may also have weakened a key motive for graduating from entrepreneur to philanthropist.

The Big Society?
As for what such arguments have to do with David Cameron's 'big society', I don't know - unless the idea is to resurrect communal guilt in the hopes that it will motivate more of us to abandon some of our leisure pursuits in favour worthier causes...

UK Speechwriters’ Guild awards: Geoff Burch, Business Communicator of the Year 2011

The UK Speechwriters’ Guild has awarded the Business Communicator of the Year Award 2011 to the speaker and author Geoff Burch.

Geoff Burch writes business books, gives speeches at corporate and sales conferences, and has appeared on the BBC TV series
All Over The Shop.

Chairman of the judges, Brian Jenner, said: “Geoff Burch is an unusual thing, a British motivational speaker. Only he tailors his message to a British audience by claiming to be a ‘miserable bastard’.”

“What we particularly like about his style is his accessibility: his ability to put ideas worthy of a place in the
Harvard Business Review in a format understandable to a telesales recruit on their first day”.

“Geoff Burch can craft striking phrases. His messages are simple and he clearly thinks very hard about
how to communicate things. And he delivers his speeches with the panache of a stand-up comedian.”

“Mr Burch eschews Power Point presentations and business jargon, which delights the judges.
They wish to hold him up as an example of how to inspire audiences in times of crisis.”

The UK Speechwriters’ Guild was set up in 2009 to promote the interests and profile of speechwriters and raise standards of public speaking in the UK.

Last year’s winner was Sir Martin Broughton, Chairman of British Airways, who went on to prove how his speechmaking skills gave him the power to influence Government policy and make headlines across the world. Sir Martin accepted his prize at the conference of the UK Speechwriters’ Guild in Bournemouth in September 2010.

More information about the UK Speechwriters’ Guild can be found
HERE.

You don't need to speak Arabic to tell that Mubarak isn't much of an orator



I'm grateful to Martin Shovel for asking me via Twitter (@MartinShovel) earlier today: 'Where's your much anticipated rhetorical analysis of Mubarak's latest speech?'

The short answer is that there are some things for which I lack the time or inclination (or both).

But Martin's question did take me back to something I blogged about last July, when Fidel Castro had just given his first TV interview since his 'retirement' (HERE). That had reminded me of a rather obvious point I'd made in a heading above a picture of the young Castro in my book Our Masters' Voices (1984, p.4):

'Skillful public speaking can be readily recognized even in those whose politics we may disagree with, and whose languages we do not understand.'

What fascinated me then - and still does - is the fact that we don't have to be able to understand Spanish or German to be able to recognise that Castro and Hitler were highly effective orators.

The opposite is also the case: you don't have to be able to understand Arabic to be able to tell at a glance that Egyptian President Mubarak is a long way from the Premier League when it comes to public speaking - and non-Arabic speakers can check this out by watching him in action above.

The rise of the ineffective orator
Much the same can be said of other second and third generation revolutionary leaders. Compared with Nelson Mandela, Thabo Mbeki was a bit short in the communication skills department. So too were Stalin, Khruschev and Brezhnev in comparison with Lenin (and I don't speak Russian, either).

The point is that, once a new order is established, behind the scenes committee work, plotting, befriending the right people, bumping off or otherwise disposing of rivals, winning support of the right factions and organisations , etc. become far more important than being able to appeal to a mass audience of people whose votes will determine your rise or fall.

Nor, if you can get to the top job - like so many leaders of Arab nations outside Egypt - by being the favoured relation of the previous head of a ruling family, do you have to worry about anything so tiresome as being able to move, persuade and inspire mass audiences.

Although I've no idea how effective an orator President Nasser, the first leader of the new Egypt, was, I'll bet he was a good deal better at it than his ousted predecessor (King Farouk).

Aprés Mubarak?
It now looks as though Hosni Mubarak's plan to take a leaf out of the Assad family book in Syria - by handing over to his son - is about to be thwarted. So, if Gamil Mubarak is still hoping to see his father's dream come true, he may well be in the market for some professional coaching.

Martin Shovel - and other likely UK suppliers of such services - may like to note that, according to The Sun, Gamil and his family have already decamped to his modest little £8.5 million pad in Knightsbridge. For his phone number and other contact details, I'm sure that the Murdoch family and/or News International will be able to oblige...