Indice
A case for change
Nov 13th 2008 | ROME
From The Economist print edition
Universities desperately need reform—yet resist change
Dreamy student days “TUTTA LA VITA DAVANTI” (“Your Whole Life Ahead”), a recent Italian movie, opens with the voice of a young woman defending her thesis. The camera dwells on one wrinkled visage after another, until it becomes clear that the entire examining board is made up of octogenarians—and a chuckle of cynical recognition runs through the cinema audience.
The retirement age for Italian university teachers is 72. Mariastella Gelmini, education minister in Silvio Berlusconi’s right-wing government, plans to reduce it, though only to 70. And this is just one of a host of reforms she is seeking to make to one of the worst managed, worst performing and most corrupt sectors in Italy.
Italian universities are not over-funded. According to the OECD rich-country think-tank, each student in 2005 cost some $8,026, well below the average of $11,512. But the figure for Italy does not include private universities. And few critics believe that a shortage of cash is the biggest problem for state-run higher education.
Most Italians point instead to the overweening power of the baroni (barons), or tenured professors with the power of academic life and death. Many treat their faculties as personal fiefs. Nepotism and favouritism are rife: only this week news emerged of a university rector who, the day before he retired on October 31st, signed a decree to make his son a lecturer. Research by students at Federico II University in Naples found that 15% of teachers had a relative on the university staff. At Palermo University, as many as 230 teachers are reported to be related to other teachers.
The creation of jobs for relatives and friends has helped to inflate the number of Italian academics. According to Ms Gelmini, 13,000 junior posts have been advertised in the past seven years, yet 26,000 have been filled. Cronyism has also led to a proliferation of courses and departments. Italy has 37 courses with but a single student; 327 faculties have fewer than 15.
Some valuable research and inspirational teaching are done in Italian universities. But the more common pattern is of a uniform mediocrity. Not one Italian institution is in the top 100 of the 2008 Times Higher Education world university rankings. The baroni wield considerable influence over governments, particularly of the centre-left, and have used it to bury most attempts at reform.
The need for change is now pressing. Five universities are, in effect, bankrupt. The system as a whole is manifestly failing the economy. Only 17% of Italians between 25 and 34 have a tertiary qualification, compared with an OECD average of 33%. The main reason is a shocking dropout rate of 55%, the highest in the rich world.
Judging that students were being asked to stay at university for too long, Mr Berlusconi’s previous government introduced optional, three-year degree courses. But employers say that graduates of these shorter courses are not good enough. Universities are not imparting enough learning within a reasonable time.
Most of Ms Gelmini’s reforms will be included in two bills that have yet to be formally published. But earlier this month she won cabinet support for an initial measure to alter the selection process for university teachers and researchers in order to prevent abuses; to set aside more cash for student grants and accommodation; and to mitigate the effects of earlier cost-cutting legislation by raising the number of lecturers and researchers who can be hired for every one that retires.
All this might seem good news for students and teachers. Yet students have staged protests around the country. This week the main trade union federations planned a national strike, though one of them pulled out at the last minute. The opposition argues that no good will come of reforms inspired by cost reduction. But the government retorts that Italy’s ultra-low birth rate has created what Ms Gelmini calls “an historic opportunity” to raise quality while spending less. At least her plans deserve a fair hearing.
Nov 13th 2008 | ROME
From The Economist print edition
Universities desperately need reform—yet resist change
Dreamy student days “TUTTA LA VITA DAVANTI” (“Your Whole Life Ahead”), a recent Italian movie, opens with the voice of a young woman defending her thesis. The camera dwells on one wrinkled visage after another, until it becomes clear that the entire examining board is made up of octogenarians—and a chuckle of cynical recognition runs through the cinema audience.
The retirement age for Italian university teachers is 72. Mariastella Gelmini, education minister in Silvio Berlusconi’s right-wing government, plans to reduce it, though only to 70. And this is just one of a host of reforms she is seeking to make to one of the worst managed, worst performing and most corrupt sectors in Italy.
Italian universities are not over-funded. According to the OECD rich-country think-tank, each student in 2005 cost some $8,026, well below the average of $11,512. But the figure for Italy does not include private universities. And few critics believe that a shortage of cash is the biggest problem for state-run higher education.
Most Italians point instead to the overweening power of the baroni (barons), or tenured professors with the power of academic life and death. Many treat their faculties as personal fiefs. Nepotism and favouritism are rife: only this week news emerged of a university rector who, the day before he retired on October 31st, signed a decree to make his son a lecturer. Research by students at Federico II University in Naples found that 15% of teachers had a relative on the university staff. At Palermo University, as many as 230 teachers are reported to be related to other teachers.
The creation of jobs for relatives and friends has helped to inflate the number of Italian academics. According to Ms Gelmini, 13,000 junior posts have been advertised in the past seven years, yet 26,000 have been filled. Cronyism has also led to a proliferation of courses and departments. Italy has 37 courses with but a single student; 327 faculties have fewer than 15.
Some valuable research and inspirational teaching are done in Italian universities. But the more common pattern is of a uniform mediocrity. Not one Italian institution is in the top 100 of the 2008 Times Higher Education world university rankings. The baroni wield considerable influence over governments, particularly of the centre-left, and have used it to bury most attempts at reform.
The need for change is now pressing. Five universities are, in effect, bankrupt. The system as a whole is manifestly failing the economy. Only 17% of Italians between 25 and 34 have a tertiary qualification, compared with an OECD average of 33%. The main reason is a shocking dropout rate of 55%, the highest in the rich world.
Judging that students were being asked to stay at university for too long, Mr Berlusconi’s previous government introduced optional, three-year degree courses. But employers say that graduates of these shorter courses are not good enough. Universities are not imparting enough learning within a reasonable time.
Most of Ms Gelmini’s reforms will be included in two bills that have yet to be formally published. But earlier this month she won cabinet support for an initial measure to alter the selection process for university teachers and researchers in order to prevent abuses; to set aside more cash for student grants and accommodation; and to mitigate the effects of earlier cost-cutting legislation by raising the number of lecturers and researchers who can be hired for every one that retires.
All this might seem good news for students and teachers. Yet students have staged protests around the country. This week the main trade union federations planned a national strike, though one of them pulled out at the last minute. The opposition argues that no good will come of reforms inspired by cost reduction. But the government retorts that Italy’s ultra-low birth rate has created what Ms Gelmini calls “an historic opportunity” to raise quality while spending less. At least her plans deserve a fair hearing.