Top Management Program in Higher Education
Fleet, Hampshire
4 July 2000
Global Developments in Higher Education
Sir John Daniel
Vice-Chancellor, The Open University
President, The United States Open University
Introduction
It is a privilege to be with you and I thank Professor Robin Middlehurst, whose work I admire greatly, for the invitation to speak to you about global developments in higher education. Being here makes me rather envy you the opportunity of this course and takes me back to some of the memorable experiences of professional development in my own career. I think back to 1978 when I attended one of the first offerings of Canada’s Senior University Administrator’s Course - called the SUAC course - at the University of Western Ontario in London, Ontario. I was then a callow youth of 36 just beginning my second PVC-level appointment as Vice-President for Learning Services at Athabasca University in Alberta.
I have three very clear memories of the course. First, they taught us that being fit was an important quality for a senior university administrator so an extrovert academic from Western’s School of Physical Education took us in hand every morning at 6:30am for running and other forms of exercise. This was, in theory, voluntary. However, since points were given for individual attendance to our various student teams the peer pressure to participate was fierce.
What impressed me was that all the anglophone course members turned up for the morning work-out whereas the francophone members stayed in bed. Having spent the previous twelve years in francophone universities in Paris, Montreal and Quebec I could understand and sympathise with them. But I reverted to type on this occasion and became a team-playing anglophone. I guess I must have learned the fitness lesson at a deeper level because I have tried to keep fit ever since. It’s important for a vice-chancellor to be able to outrun his pro-vice-chancellors and university secretary over any distance.
In my previous job, as president of Laurentian University in Ontario, I kept fit by swimming in the University’s pool. That was a good lesson in humility because one of our students, Alex Baumann, won three gold medals in the Los Angeles Olympics. He would sometimes be training when I went to the pool at lunch and would do three or four lengths for every one of mine. So concentrate on being fitter than your management colleagues. Don’t delude yourself that you can compete with the students in the physical arena!
The second memory of the course that has stayed with me is an exercise that was developed by the Canadian Armed Forces. You were a member of a small group of survivors from a plane crash in the wilds of Labrador and you were given a list of the peculiar assortment of items that you had managed to rescue from the burnt out plane. In the first part of the exercise each individual had to figure out their own plan, drawing on these resources, for surviving and getting help. Then we were put into groups of about six and each group had to work up a strategy drawing on the individual plans.
The individual and group proposals were then compared with the recommended strategies of Canada’s military survival experts for this situation. What I found absolutely amazing was that all of the group strategies were, without exception if I remember correctly, better than any of the individual plans for survival. That really impressed me and has influenced my behaviour and commitment to teamwork ever since. I now always take the time to thrash out policy and action proposals with my top group at the OU, most especially if one member has a view orthogonal to the rest.
I note also in this context that the tradition of developing courses in teams explains the superior quality of the Open University’s courses. That is a proof of the superiority of good teamwork from a quite different area.
The third memory was of the cases we studied. In those days business schools were either committed to the case study method or absolutely not committed to the case study method. There was open warfare between the two camps. The University of Western Ontario was devoted to the case study method and for our course they had gone to a lot a trouble to produce real cases on management and administrative issues from Canadian universities. These had been rendered anonymous – the Canadian equivalents of the University of Poppleton – and we had to work on the cases and develop a way out of each set of problems.
The really interesting part was that at the end of each case study they would bring in the people from the real university on which the case was based to tell us what had really happened. It was fascinating. In nearly all cases our own savant analyses and complex proposals for solution bore no relation to reality. In some cases, of course, the problem had simply solved itself – with time. In another case where we had come up with a subtle plan to reorganise the students’ union the real managers had simply terminated the contract of the university’s caterers and solved the problem. That too was a useful lesson. Using time and keeping it simple can take you a long way in university management.
I understand that you have been engaged in somewhat similar exercises and I would hazard a guess that your own approaches to creating an e-university are over complex and over eager – just like those about to emanate from HEFCE.
My next, and extraordinarily memorable experience of professional development will make you rather jealous. This was the year, 1989-90, that I spent as a student at Canada’s National Defence College. This college, the Canadian equivalent of the UK’s Royal College of Defence Studies, was a senior executive course in Canadian and international affairs. We were a group of forty. Mostly senior Canadian military officers but with a number of American, Australian, British and New Zealand officers as well as some Canadian civil servants and corporate people and one or two academics like me let in to leaven the lump.
We were based in Kingston, Ontario and when we were there we would have an outstanding visiting lecturer each day. They covered a huge range of topics. Then there were the field trips. In the first half of the year, from August to Christmas, we studied Canada and went on four trips, using military planes, to every province and territory of Canada. Most Canadians, who live within a hundred miles of the US border despite being citizens of the second biggest country in the world, never see the wonderful magnitude of their wonderful country.
But we did. From the outports of Newfoundland to the massive hydro-electric installations of northern Quebec. From the Inuit community of Cape Dorset on Baffin Island to the icy outpost of Resolute Bay. From Yellowknife in the North West Territories to the village of Old Crow in the Yukon. From spending the night patrolling in a police cruiser in Vancouver to viewing the vast tar sands of northern Alberta. From the vibrant city of Toronto, perhaps North America’s most successful urban community, to the evocative walled city of Quebec.
At each stop we were addressed by provincial premiers and ministers and other representatives of the great and the good. But we also went out to the soup kitchens and the First Nations reserves and heard at first hand about life as it is really lived.
Then, in the second half of the year, our focus switched to the world. Remember that this was the year that the Berlin Wall came down. Ceaucescu was overthrown and killed while we were home from the course for Christmas. It was a unique year to travel the world and – this is where I fear you will be jealous – we visited 25 countries in five trips. Two trips to the USA: one, to what you might call the US civilian, to help us understand the social, political and economic context of Canada’s overwhelming neighbour. A trip second to visit the US military.
We started in Omaha, Nebraska, where at that time there were still planes in the air on a round the clock basis to provide the Strategic Air Command with a control centre in case of nuclear war with Russia. Then we moved through some of the key centres of the US Army, Navy, Marines and Air Force to end up at the Pentagon in Washington. This was good background experience back in the UK two years later when the Gulf War started. I remember various British colleagues suggesting that on the basis of their performance in Vietnam the Americans would get creamed in the Gulf. Fresh from seeing the enormous power and professionalism of the US forces I could see that the Gulf was their kind of war and so it proved to be.
Then we faced out from North America. First a trip down through the Caribbean to South America. Learning in Jamaica about the devastation of the drugs trade. Being harangued in Belem, at the mouth of the Amazon, by a Brazilian general with the wonderful name of Thanaturgo, about the impertinence of the rest of the world telling Brazil what to do with its rain forest. And then to the bizarre experience of being taken around a part of Patagonia, in southern Argentina, by a guide called Emrys Williams who spoke fluent Spanish, a little English but no Welsh, through towns where all the street names were Welsh: Calle Evans, Avenida Jones and such like.
Then we took a trip around the world. First to Korea and to Panmunjom to experience at first hand the frightening demilitarised zone between the two Koreas. Then to Japan, whose booming economy and technological savvy was then the envy of the world. I particularly remember a trip at 5am to Tokyo’s central fish market which was a staggering reminder of the richness of the oceans and how we are depleting them. Later that day the challenge eating a formal meal, Japanese style, sitting cross-legged at a table nine inches high. Next was Thailand, where we saw both the sex industry of Bangkok and the attempts to get farmers in the golden triangle north of Chang Mai to change from growing opium poppies to coffee.
From there to two very different island states. First Singapore. Highly organised and switched on. Very clear about where it was going as a nation. Then across the Indian ocean to the Seychelles, a little country trying to follow the socialist path. I recall a poignant hoarding by the roadside which read ‘No one is going to stop this revolution’. From there to the bustling chaos of Nigeria which included a trip out of Lagos to the University of Ife where the commitment of the staff was as inspiring as the resources available to them were depressing.
That gave me some context for a discussion of technology at the Association of Commonwealth Universities conference in Ottawa two years ago. After plenty of talk about what technology could do for universities an African VC got up and said that the queues of people outside his office back home were not an indication of his personal popularity but of the fact that his office had the only working telephone link to the world outside the campus.
Then it was on to Senegal where the lasting memories are of a trip into the country to see the attempts being made to stop the encroachment of the desert and, later, to the Ile de Gorée. The Ile de Gorée is a fortified island off the coast from Dakar and it was an assembly station for the slave trade. 20 million slaves, of which six million died, passed through its buildings which today are just as they were in the last century, making it one of the world’s most haunting historic sites.
After a few weeks back in Canada our final trip was to Europe and the middle East. We arrived in Prague in May 1990. The whole of Eastern Europe was intoxicated with liberation. An American diplomat on the course, who became a good friend, summed it up well as we were walking round Wenceslas Square: ‘the sense of emerging freedom here is so strong its almost sexual’. He is now the US Ambassador to the Council for Security and Co-operation in Europe, the CSCE.
We continued on to Germany where we were almost the last people to go through Berlin’s Checkpoint Charlie before they demolished it. Having hacked off our own bits of the Berlin Wall we proceeded to Austria and then to Israel and Jordan. In both countries our hosts took us north. In Israel to see the border with Lebanon and to appreciate the strategic importance of the Golan Heights. In Jordan to look down on the Sea of Galilee and to appreciate the strategic importance of the Golan Heights.
It was particularly interesting being with Canadians on this last part of the trip. Canada is based on negotiation and accommodation between its founding nations, the First Nations, the French and the English. So Canadians assume that with a little goodwill people can sit down round a table and work out a solution to any dispute. It was interesting to watch them take on board the depth of animosity in the Middle East and the unlikelihood of any early end to what we hopefully call the peace process.
While the group was visiting the UK I skipped a visit to the site of the Channel Tunnel in order to spend time with my soon-to-be OU colleagues. I had begun the year’s course at the National Defence College as president of Laurentian University in Ontario - having been given nine month’s leave to do the course after five years in office. I planned to return to Laurentian and do another five-year term but I was appointed to the OU during the year.
Although I hadn’t planned it that way the Defence College course was the perfect preparation for a change of job and country. Think globally, act locally has now become a cliché but I shall always be grateful for the world perspective I got from that exciting year. However, I also had to get ready to act locally and on the basis of a dinner with the OU Deans while we were in London on that trip I made two recommendations for the appointment of pro-vice-chancellors. A rough-and-ready selection process you may think. But both did brilliantly. Indeed, Ann Floyd, whom I appointed as PVC for continuing education has been an outstanding member of my team for ten years, finishing her last term as PVC for curriculum and awards this month.
I also took advantage of the international travel in that year to steal a few hours off here and there to visit universities, particularly the open universities in countries such as Korea, Japan, Thailand and Israel.
All of which is a long way of saying that I envy you your course and I quite understand what you mean by the Brussels factor. It is when a group shares a new experience and gains new insights together that bonding increases and individual understanding is deepened. But now it’s time to earn my supper and speak more explicitly about Global Developments in Higher Education, which is the topic Professor Middlehurst asked me to speak to.
I don’t apologise for this long introductory travelogue. It helps to explain where I’m coming from and the opportunity to travel the world in that historic year of 1989-90, when the Cold War ended and a new era began, was an immense privilege. The global developments in higher education that I shall explore are all related, to a greater or lesser extent, to the era of globalisation that really began then.
I shall talk about just three issues. Two of them seem very important to us today but may not have quite the importance we think for the overall advancement of humankind. The third has major implications for humankind on this planet but barely registers on our radar screens in British universities. I shall be brief and pithy in order to provoke discussion but I’ll recommend some reading to you so that you can gain different perspectives on these issues later.
The purpose of universities
The first issue is the purpose of universities. Here I don’t mean the simple statement that universities engage in teaching, research and service to the community but the real purpose, the way people engage with that general mission. To find that real purpose you have to look at the way universities are set up, funded and governed. At the risk of doing violence to the more subtle aspects of the 912 years of academic history since the foundation of the University of Bologna in 1088 let me summarise as follows.
The first medieval universities were funded directly by the students, who set up as a small community and hired scholars to teach them. The students had the whip hand over both the scholars and the local town. The scholars had to get the students’ permission to leave town for any reason. If the students thought their landlords were gouging them or the townsfolk were otherwise obnoxious they simply moved the whole university somewhere else. The beginnings of Oxford University were a bunch of English student hooligans who got thrown out of the University of Paris. Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose!
Then church and state moved in to gain some control of this important phenomenon. Nevertheless, the idea of a university as a self-governing body of scholars took root early. That is not to say, or course, that some of these bodies of scholars were not under ferocious pressure to toe a line set by the church or by the monarch. However, the atmosphere was generally benign. The church, for all its political shenanigans, believed that education was important for the development of human beings created in the image of God. Monarchs thought universities were a good thing and liked to fund them as monuments to themselves – Queen’s College, King’s College and so on. Operating budgets came from a mixture of endowments and student fees.
As monarchies gave way to democracies the democratic state and the civil society also saw value in universities. In the USA the Land Grant universities were established in the 19th century to bring the advantages of university teaching to the agricultural population in rural areas. Indeed, in the USA the three elements of what we now regard as the standard university mission: teaching, service and research, developed in that order with research, inspired by Humboldt and the German tradition being the last function on board. In the UK the civil and commercial communities of prosperous cities like Manchester, Birmingham and Leeds created universities for their communities.
In the last half of the last century, of course, state involvement increased dramatically in most countries, bringing with it bureaucracy and unionisation. The notion of a self-governing community of scholars was eroded from above and below. From above governments became more and more prescriptive about what universities could and should do. From below staff tended to bring a trade-union discourse to university governance giving the impression – which was often reality – that the personal and material situation of the academics was a more important factor in decision-making than any disinterested search for truth or a commitment to the educational advancement of the community.
Nevertheless, in both private and public universities there was a general agreement that any surplus funds should go toward the mission of the university. Since you can spend an infinite amount of money on research it is always possible to mop up any surplus funds in a university in this way.
The rise of for-profit universities
It is against this background that the emergence of universities with a for-profit motive is a very significant development. Of course we have always had educational institutions, including universities, that operated for-profit. The difference was that until recently they existed in an instructional twilight of low status and reputation. Forty years ago distance learning, then called correspondence education, was particularly attractive to organisations with a for-profit motive. Some of these ran operations of integrity but many did not. Distance learning, then as now, provides many temptations and opportunities to take a student’s money without providing a commensurate service.
Two things happened to change this, both in 1970. In that year Jessica Mitford published an article in the Atlantic Monthly, ‘Let Us Now Appraise Famous Authors’, that was a devastating exposé of a well-known American correspondence school and some of the famous writers who lent their names to sanction its dubious practices. Mitford’s article sparked a flurry of legislation and guideline writing directed at correspondence education, both nationally and internationally. Meanwhile, the same year another organisation was attempting to show by example how distance learning could be conducted in the public interest and with integrity.
I refer of course, to Britain’s Open University, which opened for business in 1970 and attracted 40,000 applicants with just two advertisements in the Radio Times. This example, and the tighter regulatory framework, kept the for-profit sector much more honest in the following years. By and large its offerings focused on professional and vocational subjects rather than on university degree level work.
The new phenomenon today is that for-profit education has evolved in three ways. It is increasingly engaged in university-level work; it is engaged in face-to-face teaching as well as distance teaching; and it has emerged from the reputational twilight - if not from frequent controversy. This is without doubt a significant global development in higher education. What are we to make of it?
It is, of course, just one by-product of the wider process of globalisation so let me start with a word or two about that. There is, of course, argument about how real or how new this phenomenon is. My colleague Grahame Thompson at the OU is one of the sceptics who argues that Britain was more closely linked to the global economy in 1900 than it is in 2000. However, since everyone believes that globalisation is the trend of the times we must take it on board. I believe it is true that globalisation today is more intense and far-reaching, partly because it involves individual citizens, as airline travellers and websurfers, instead of just companies and states.
I recommend two books, one by a young Canadian female journalist, Naomi Klein, the other by an older American male journalist, Tom Friedman, who is foreign correspondent of the New York Times.
Friedman’s book The Lexus and the Olive Tree is rather repetitive and unstructured but all his key points are summarised in his introduction. To a non-American reader his style is tinged with jingoism and xenophobia. Globalisation means Americanisation but don’t worry because the USA will be a benign hegemon. However, capitalism is king and any government that has higher per capita public expenditure than the USA had better get with it and change.
Naomi Klein’s book, No Logo: Taking Aim at the Brand Bullies, is very well written and nicely structured. She addresses the evolving behaviour of companies in relation to their brands. Much of what she says is directly relevant to the impact of the for profit-sector on universities. Her first point is that companies are increasingly focused on shareholder value as the only criterion to be used in judging their performance or social worth. Gone are the days when companies were associated with a product and with a workforce who made things. Today the focus is on the brand. Furthermore, whereas the primary use of the brand as an assurance of quality large companies today try to link their brands to vaguer concepts of culture, values and image.
We can see these developments at work in both the activities of the for-profit educational organisations and in the development of public and private universities. In the for-profit sector it is vital to jettison all ballast that does not either help to maximise profits for shareholders or to retain student customers. Thus, for example John Sperling of the Apollo Corporation that owns the for-profit University of Phoenix, makes no bones about the fact that research is not part of the mission nor of the job-descriptions of the staff. Another obvious corollary is that such institutions concentrate on subjects that sell well. A for-profit should not be subsidising loss-making subjects from other activities unless those subjects are essential for keeping students in the revenue-generating programmes.
The commercial dynamic of a for-profit university is primarily its concern. It does, however, impact on public universities if attracts students away from programmes that those universities use to subsidise research or the less popular disciplines. The current transparency review, by helping universities know better what is subsidising what, will prepare them for this challenge.
Of more import, in my view, are the deals that public and private universities make with for-profit companies, either to support the football team or to produce courses. Naomi Klein argues that schools and universities are some of society’s most important public spaces and expressions of collective responsibility. They are institutions where open debate should be prized and transparency valued. Allowing corporate brands into the university undermines all these qualities We should not turn campuses into shopping malls and student citizens into student consumers, however tempting the corporate money might be.
Being prevented from buying Pepsi Cola on campus because Coca Cola has an exclusive contract might seem a small price to pay to get a regular supply of shirts for the basketball team but the encroachment is insidious. The purpose of the promotion of brands is to fill the space and reduce choice. There is also the real likelihood of student backlash if their university associates itself with a prominent brand that is engaged in dubious practices such as making its product in the sweatshops of the export processing zones of the third world, restricting freedom of speech through libel and copyright lawsuits, or engaging in predatory commercial practices.
There’s another issue, which we might explore in discussion, about the way universities promote and use their own brands as universities. We read recently in the Times Higher Educational Supplement that the coming e-university will be all about brand. I suggest that universities should be careful about falling in love with their brands. To judge by companies like Nike, McDonald’s and Microsoft it can be something of a time-bomb.
e-universities
That leads me directly into my second issue which is technology. My first issue was about the purpose of universities, what they are for and why they exist, and I have suggested that these purposes may not always sit well with the commercial profit motive. My second issue is how universities do what they do and in particular how they use technology. I’ll call this the e-university issue because that is its current manifestation. But we have been there before with other manifestations of technology. Let me give you a few quotes from history.
I start over one hundred and fifty years ago with a Mr Josiah Bumstead who, in 1841 said:
The inventor or introducer of the blackboard deserves to be ranked among the best contributors to learning and science, if not among the greatest benefactors of mankind.
One hundred years later in 1940, Hoban proclaimed that:
The motion picture is the most revolutionary instrument introduced into education since the printing press.
Then in 1957, according to Stoddard:
It now seems clear, however, that television offers the greatest opportunity for the advancement of education since the introduction of printing by moveable type.
But by 1962 Woefle could assert that:
Programmed learning is the first major technological breakthrough in education since the invention of printing.
And five years later Caffrey and Mossman could claim that:
The impact of computers on society, and hence on the curriculum, has been compared to that of moveable type and the printing press since Gutenberg.
You will have noted two things about those quotes, first that each new technology was going to create a revolution in education. Second, that most of them were compared to the printing press. The e-university is today’s version of the long tradition of hype about technology in education.
I say this, of course, as the head of the world’s leading e-university. Recently our 80,000 degree students online have been joined by 70,000 schoolteachers in our Learning Schools Programme. I am not aware of any other university anywhere that is operating online at anything close to this scale. It helps to root us in reality and to confirm the OU view, developed over 30 years of experience with using technology in teaching and learning, that there is no magic single medium and never will be.
If I sound downbeat it is because I find it more important to calm the starry-eyed fanatics than to encourage the luddites. We have found that the e-world does marvellous things for OU students. First it is making student administration easier for all concerned. An example is the 20,000 students who now check their student record electronically every week. Second, it has revolutionised communication between students, as evidenced by the 150,000 student-to-student messages that fly around every day on some 6,000 computer conferences. Third, it has transformed student access to libraries and databases with activity in our Open Libr@ry increasing exponentially.
But getting all this to work is hard painstaking slog. At the end of the day it enhances, it does not replace, the role of the university staff in supporting students. All this is said with style in another new book The Social Life of Information by John Seely Brown and Paul Duguid. Seely Brown is the scientific director of Xerox PARC, which has invented more of today’s e-technology than any other centre, so his technological credentials are impeccable.
Yet the fundamental theme of their book is that it is all too easy to reach the wrong conclusion by letting the logic of information push aside the more practical logic of humanity. They comment on a phenomenon that must strike us all, namely the tremendously impoverished notion of education that people who are transfixed by the logic of information bring to their discussion of learning.
The idea of learning as the steady supply of facts and information, although parodied by Charles Dickens 150 years ago, is alive and well in much of today’s discourse about the Internet. Each generation has its own fight against images of learners as wax to be moulded, jugs to be filled, and slates to be written on. The Internet simply adds the new image of the hydroponics system giving each plant its regular dose of nourishment without human intervention.
If we claim ours as the age of knowledge then we must remember, Brown and Duguid argue, that knowledge lies less in databases than people. They note that if NASA wanted to go to the moon again it would have to start from scratch because although it still has the data it has lost the human expertise that took it there last time.
Just as Mark Twain had to remonstrate that the report of his death was exaggerated, so these authors argue that the Internet is unlikely to be the end of the university. One reason is that university degrees include a certain amount of misrepresentation – a word that they use in a positive sense. They mean that behind the façade of the degree the university conducts many activities that are socially valuable but are not easily valued in the marketplace. As they put it:
The ability of the degree to shelter these activities from close scrutiny, immediate justification and micromanagement helps provide society with more diverse and versatile candidates than it knows to ask for.
I often argue that university campuses will always be in demand because they create a protected environment where young people can come to terms with life, love, liquor and learning - while sparing the rest of the community the sight of these often unsightly processes. It is particularly ironic that information technology is being used as a pretext to take the slack out of university degree programmes by micromanaging learning at the level of the individual course.
So much for technology. Please come back to me in discussion if you don’t feel that I’m appropriately aware of the utopia just round the corner.
I said that I would talk about three issues. My final topic may not excite you but I think it is very important. It is the challenge of providing higher education to the tidal wave of youngsters that will reach adulthood in the developing world over the next fifteen years. Within that overall goal there are some very painful special issues. The other day the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Natal, Brenda Gourley, dropped in at the OU. She’s an old friend and came to update us on Natal and Africa generally. The figure that stayed with me is that there are 80,000 schoolteachers in Natal and it is probable that 30,000 of them will die of Aids in the next five years.
Her question was, could the OU help with a teacher training programme that is inexpensive, can take all comers and can be rolled out at scale. We would love to help. The broader question of how to expand higher education to cope with up to 150 million students worldwide by 2020 has already been partly answered by British technology. I refer of course, to the Open University which, in world terms is the most significant innovation in higher education of the 20th century. It has led to the establishment of similar universities in many countries and a dozen of them, which I call the mega-universities, enrol over 100,000 students.
Between them these mega-universities now enrol about 2.5 million students on a restrictive definition of degree-level study and many millions more if you count their continuing education programmes. For example, the Liaoyuan TV school, just one affiliate of China’s TV University system, had 20 million farmers receiving courses of preliminary and intermediate education. Those are the kinds of figures that put our own challenges in UK higher education in perspective.
But, when you get right down to it – and I will finish with this remark – the basic challenge of higher education is the same the world over. I express it as the eternally challenging triangle of access, quality and cost. The challenge is to increase access, improve quality and cut cost. It is because the Open University has done all three more successfully than any other innovation in the history of higher education that I am proud to be its leader and pleased to speak to you today.
I wish you all well in your careers as top managers in higher education. It’s an exhilarating way to make a living.
References
Daniel, John S (1996) Mega-Universities and Knowledge Media: Technology Strategies for Higher Education, Kogan Page, London
Friedman, TL (1999) The Lexus and the Olive Tree – Understanding Globalization, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York
Klein, N (2000) No Logo: Taking Aim at the Brand Bullies, Flamingo Press, London
Mitford, JL (1970) Let Us Now Appraise Famous Authors, Atlantic Monthly, 226 pp. 45-54
Sperling, J (1999) A Business Model of Higher Education in 2025, in Universities in the Future, M. Thorne (Ed.), Department of Trade and Industry, London pp. 104-119