Is There A “Real World” of College?

In 2012, we launched a large-scale national study of higher education, including 2000 in-depth interviews across eight constituencies at ten undergraduate colleges. With one partial exception, these schools were not vocational; they described themselves as liberal arts schools. We set out to understand the perspectives of multiple stakeholders across disparate institutions, ones that ranged in size, selectivity, status (public or private, two years or four years), and geographic location. To our knowledge, our data and analyses were—and still are—unique (see The Real World of College). They constitute a treasure trove for those, like us, who believe in the importance of attending carefully to what people choose to say—and what they don’t say—when given the opportunity to freely discuss their experiences and viewpoints.

The current challenges confronting higher education notably at our own university, have prompted us to reflect on our study and our findings—what we anticipated and what we did not. We reflect as well on what might be most useful, as we seek to move forward in constructive ways.

Over the last decade the terrain has changed dramatically. We began our study at the beginning of President Obama’s second term. Sometimes referred to the “Higher Education President,” President Obama lobbied regularly for investment in college, endorsing its promise for individuals and for the broader society. We could not have anticipated that four years later, toward the end of our data collection, President Trump proclaimed that he “loved the poorly educated.”

To our credit, our study revealed problems that now loom large for higher education—specifically, the prevalence among students of mental health concerns, as well as feelings of alienation from the curriculum, peers, and institutions as a whole.

On the other hand, we did not pick up certain warning signs—"canaries in the coalmine.” Possibly amplified by inflammatory rhetoric from politicians as well as hurtful messages on diverse media, campuses began to foreground issues about diversity, equity, inclusion, and free speech—and all too often, these became polarizing. More recently, campuses have been struggling to navigate opposing views on political strife and warfare in the Middle East as well as widespread charges of racism and antisemitism.

Moreover, we did not realize—nor could we have anticipated—the degree to which higher education itself would be placed under a microscope—both in private board rooms and in the press, on television, and on social media. Indeed, in parts of our country, state laws now govern the curriculum, books, and even certain verbiage that can and can’t be used in classrooms; the Supreme Court has reversed its earlier rulings on admissions policies; and some wealthy donors have begun to publicly scrutinize and indirectly “force” the resignation of high-profile presidents at prestigious schools.

Beyond this scorecard, looking ahead, how might the concepts that guided our work, the tools that we created, and the principal findings that we obtained be useful to the sector?

To begin with, we found almost no consensus about the principal purpose of college—what we call the “mental model” of the college experience. At most schools, we found a sharp disjunction between the views of students, parents, and alums on the one hand—and the adults on campus—faculty and administrators—on the other.

Specifically, the bulk of first-year college students and graduating students view college as a “transactional” experience—a time and place to build a resume for a job. For most students at most schools, these views do not shift over the course of a two-year or four-year college experience. Furthermore, these views are corroborated in large part by their parents, young alums, and trustees.

This stance contrasts dramatically with that of faculty and administrators; the latter cohorts, view college as a pivotal opportunity for exploring new fields, people, and activities—and transforming—investigating one’s personal beliefs and values, and reflecting on the kind of person one aspires to be at work and in the world.

While troubling, the misalignment across constituencies about the purpose of college would not be worrisome if one could in fact demonstrate that higher education added educational value to its students. Here, we developed a measure of what we called Higher Education Capital (HEDCAP for short)—briefly, an individual’s capacity to attend, analyze, reflect, connect, and communicate. We were relieved to discover that, in most cases, graduating seniors displayed more HEDCAP than did first-year students; but on some campuses, HEDCAP moved very little—thus suggesting that student’s cognitive and intellectual skills had not been enhanced by two or four years of higher education. Moreover, demonstrating the possibly unique effect of the college experience, HEDCAP did not rise once students left campus—alums remained static at best.

As we look back at this decade-old research, what conclusions might we draw?

First, by its nature, empirical research with a human population describes a situation at a moment in time (in our case 2012-2018). And not surprisingly, when surrounding conditions (like politics and pandemics) alter sharply, one needs to be alert to possible differences in the experiences and attitudes of that that population. Accordingly, it’s important to have measures that can be repeated at a subsequent time—like those that we developed for mental models and HEDCAP. Only in that way can one tell what may have changed—in whatever way(s), and what has remained constant.

Second, it’s helpful to have measures that are open-ended—ones that allow subjects to share what’s on their mind, and not just respond to issues on the minds of the survey-makers. This stance allowed us to pick up signs of mental health challenges and issues of belonging—though it proved less sensitive to issues of diversity and equity.

While research is most useful for describing the “here and now,” findings can also inform recommendations for individuals, institutions, and the sector. Here is where our study might be most valuable. Across campuses we documented tremendous mission sprawl— and remarkably little attention to the possible cognitive, intellectual, and thinking benefits of a four-year nonvocational education. To be sure, no single index—and that includes HEDCAP—can prove the value of a college education. Therefore, we recommend a far sharper focus on what can uniquely be provided by two or four years of an education that is not primarily vocational and the courage to document—and indeed, proclaim—its effects.

© Wendy Fischman 2024

We are grateful to the Kern Family Foundation for supporting our research on higher education.

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Ethics and American Colleges: A Troubled Saga—or Our Humpty Dumpty Problem