I RECENTLY read a university student’s blog about student finance.
A classicist, she calculated the cost of her tuition fees per “contact hour”, a calculation that takes account of all of the time she spends being taught in lectures, seminars and tutorials. I can’t remember her exact answer, but it was circa £15 an hour. The student felt this represented fantastic value. However, she went on to question whether students facing higher tuition fees next year will feel the same. She calculated that the cost per hour could triple.
Her blog was published in the same week that The Times Higher Education supplement published its annual league table of the world’s best universities, which is based principally on their teaching and research performance. As always, British universities compared very favourably to those in other countries. Nevertheless, however good the education on offer, our classicist has to be right. Some potential students will be deterred from taking on debt, not only harming their career chances, but also aspirations to improve social mobility and Britain’s competitiveness in the global knowledge economy stakes.
What surprised me most about the blog was the scathing comments it attracted. Some described reading ancient literature and history as a “hobby”. Others demanded to know how she dared ask them to subsidise a subject that would not lead directly to productive employment. I couldn’t believe how so many people saw no value in the classics or the other humanities. Surely the study of the literature and history of any age offers value to society. Good literature, whether it be the classic realism of Charles Dickens when he took on the dark side of Victorian life, or Jane Austen when she wrote satirically about the marriage market, has something important to tell us about what it is to be human and what needs to change to make life better.
I guess that’s one of the things that is wrong with the modern business world. The philosophy of Gradgrind still prevails in any workplace dominated by the need to make more and more profit with each year that passes. Isn’t there such a thing as enough: an optimum rather than a maximum amount of profit?
I guess the student’s mistake was to talk about pounds, shillings and pence in the first place. It invited the skinflint penny pinchers who think everything boils down to money to have a go at her.
THE suggestion that Bank of America might find it hard to sell its European credit card business, Chester-based MBNA, puzzles me.
I understand that credit card businesses thrive best when consumers are spending like there is no tomorrow and that we are presently far removed from such conditions, but this is a fine business.
Following the American firm’s arrival here in the UK, there were many who said British credit card providers had missed the boat. MBNA would come here with its new affinity marketing techniques and gobble up market share, which is exactly what it did.
As a result, MBNA quickly expanded its UK operation, employing more than 4,000 staff in Chester at one point.
Its partnership agreements with banks, football clubs, professional bodies and charities remain in place.
The market will return one day. British consumers will start spending again, and when that happens this business is already well-placed to take advantage. A buyer will surely be found.
