Beyond Lobbying: The Case for Efficiency Audits in Higher Education

In the constant cycle of budget cuts in higher education, divisions within a university often turn to internal advocacy. They argue, "Do not cut from us; cut from them." University leadership, lacking detailed knowledge of each division's operations, usually sides with the most convincing argument. This is a flawed approach. In my 38 years in higher education, I have read about but never seen an efficiency audit conducted. It is high time we change that.

An efficiency audit is a systematic examination of how well a company or organization is using its resources to achieve its goals. It can also be called a performance audit or profitability audit (in private sector). Efficiency audits offer a more objective, data-informed way to assess resource use across an institution. They are not just about identifying cuts; they are about optimizing what you have. Auditors dig deep, examining course offerings, facility usage, and workflows. For example, an audit might reveal that some units are still stuck in the age of manual data entry, a process ripe for automation. The solution? Training staff to use advanced technologies, thereby streamlining operations.

Another common finding could be staffing imbalances. Perhaps two low-paid positions could be gradually combined into one higher-paid, more efficient role. Or maybe the audit will uncover courses with low enrollment that are resource hogs. The solution could be as drastic as pruning the mission and reversing mission creep, or as straightforward as abandoning non-essential programming.

The point is, these are data-informed decisions. They are not influenced by internal lobbying or colorful PowerPoint presentations. An efficiency audit provides the kind of comprehensive insights that university leadership needs to make informed decisions, particularly when budgets are tight.

So, the next time budget cuts are on the horizon and divisions start crafting their "Don't cut us" narratives, consider a different approach. An efficiency audit might not solve all financial challenges, but it can offer a roadmap for smarter, more equitable decisions. The knowledge that all divisions have undergone the same rigorous, external audit process can also relieve the suspicion that others are not trying hard enough. In an educational landscape where every dollar and decision counts, that's not just efficient; it's essential.

The Economics of Complaining: Balancing Due Process and Administrative Efficiency

The administrative dilemma surrounding the economics of complaining is complex. On one hand, there is a moral and ethical imperative to allow students, staff, and faculty to voice their grievances. On the other hand, there is the potential for the complaint mechanism to be weaponized, leading to a flood of complaints that can overwhelm the system. This creates a quasi-economic mechanism where the "cost" of complaining must be carefully calibrated.

First, let's consider the basic principles of due process. Due process is a legal concept that ensures fair treatment through the normal judicial system, especially as a citizen's entitlement. In the context of educational institutions, due process means that every complaint must be investigated thoroughly, impartially, and within a reasonable time frame. This is essential for maintaining the integrity of the institution and for ensuring that justice is served.

Next, we must address the cost of complaining. Instituting a cost, such as requiring written grievances or mandating a multi-step review process, serves as a filter. If the cost is too high, it deters legitimate complaints, thereby perpetuating a culture of silence and entrenching bad behavior. Conversely, if the cost is too low, the system becomes inundated with complaints, many of which may be frivolous or vindictive. This not only strains administrative resources but also risks overshadowing serious issues that require immediate attention.

The George Floyd era brought about a significant shift in this dynamic. In an effort to combat racial microaggressions and low-level hostilities, many institutions lowered the barriers to complaining. While well-intentioned, this policy change was not thoroughly considered. The result has been a surge in complaints, without a corresponding decrease in microaggressions. Moreover, it has created false expectations that all grievances will be addressed, leading to disillusionment and mistrust.

So, what is the solution? We should return to the principles of due process and consider raising the cost of complaining through a multi-level review. This doesn't mean making it prohibitively difficult to file a complaint, but rather instituting a balanced process that deters frivolous complaints while encouraging legitimate ones. For example, a preliminary review could filter out complaints that don't meet a certain criterion, followed by a more thorough investigation for those that do.

In conclusion, the economics of complaining in educational institutions presents a paradox. While it is crucial to have an open channel for grievances, the system must also protect itself from becoming a tool for vendettas or from being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of complaints. Striking this balance requires a nuanced approach that respects the principles of due process. Best intentions are not enough to create a working policy and solve the underlying problem.

"Only able-bodied are welcome"

Excluding individuals with disabilities by failing to provide appropriate accommodations is just as discriminatory as excluding individuals based on race, gender, ethnicity, or sexual orientation. In fact, it would be just as unacceptable to advertise an event as "For Whites Only" or "For Straight People Only" as it is to omit language regarding accommodations for individuals with disabilities. If you say nothing, it literally means “For able-bodied people only.” An I am not being metaphorical here.

In semiotics, the absence of a message can be the same as the presence of a message. This concept, known as "the absence of a sign," highlights the importance of context and interpretation in understanding the messages being conveyed. By failing to include language of accommodation in event advertising, organizers are sending a message of exclusion to individuals with disabilities.

At our college, we are committed to creating a welcoming and inclusive environment for all, including people with disabilities. Our new recent policy states that events and media resources that are not inclusive may not be advertised on any college-controlled information resources. When someone asks me to share an upcoming event or put a link to a video in the college's update, I click on the link, and check if there is an RSVP and if it asks for accommodations. I also check if the event is not too soon because we know that finding a captioner or an ASL interpreter at short notice is impossible. Additionally, I check if the video has good, human-edited captions or an ASL feed. If these criteria are not met, I apologize and decline to share.

The policy may be seen as controversial because the events and resources may benefit other marginalized people. The larger society unfortunately has not yet relegated exclusionary silent statements like "for hearing people only" as outrageous. An event or a video may be deemed too important even though it is not accessible. However, just because larger society has not yet recognized the importance of inclusivity, it doesn't mean we should do nothing. One day, we all will all be embarrassed by old pictures where people are invited to an open event, and the message says nothing about accommodation.

Forwarding information about an exclusionary event or resource is endorsing it, and therefore, I personally can no longer do it, and I don’t think anyone else should. 

• I call on the entire campus to adopt a similar policy. 
• I also call on everyone to boycot events and resources that are not accessible. 

California Master Plan, and Why it should be revised

In 1960, the Plan was a recognized achievement in higher education policy. Most states and many nations copied it to some degree. It is still a required reading in higher education history and policy courses. It created three large public education systems with distinct missions: Community Colleges, the CSU, and the UC. The plan performed remarkably well, giving broad access while forcing the three systems to stay focused on their respective missions. Community colleges – for all programs below BA, CSU for bachelors’ and masters’ degrees, and UC for everything, including PhD level programming.

The plan has been changing gradually. Some community colleges were authorized to offer a limited number of bachelor’s degrees. CSU’s can now offer four doctoral degrees for practitioners (Ed D in Ed Leadership, DNP in Nursing, DPT Physical Therapy, and AUD in Audiology). Right now, 68 doctoral programs are offered by the CSU, including many joint programs with UC campuses. These recent shifts recognize the realities of the new knowledge-based economy. While in 1960, a tiny minority of workforce had doctoral degrees. In California now, almost half a million people have doctorate degrees. But per capita, the state lags behind 11 other states, including New Mexico and Rhode Island. Within CA, counties vary greatly by the percent of their doctorate-educated populations, From Modoc at .12% to Yolo at 5.12%.

I am not suggesting we need to churn out more and more doctoral graduates regardless of their employment prospects. It is easy to enter the race to the bottom if regulations are completely abandoned. Unfortunately, we know that free market competition does not work in education. If you deregulate higher ed, the Akerlof’s Lemon Law kicks in. At the same time, CSU should continue to expand its degree offerings for fields that we know are short of workers with advanced degrees, and therefore are guaranteed employment. I imagine some of the hard sciences and computer sciences are among them. I know for sure that mental health practitioners and their supervisors are on that list.  While UC had built am impressive range of research-focused PHD programs, those are not going to feed the labor market for practitioners with advanced degrees. It is time we recognize the trend at the State level, and make actual revisions to the Master plan, rather than keep authorizing one degree at a time. An amendment could be simple: CSU is authorized to offer doctoral degrees other than PHD. There is already a robust approval process all the way to the chancellors’ office to approve new degrees, including labor market analysis. I am just not sure it should take a new legislative action every time we do that.

The ethics of false promises, or What education cannot do

Could Russian educators have prevented the moral catastrophe of popular support for the aggression? Could American educators have prevented the poisonous blooming of paranoid anti-democratic Trumpist movement? For centuries, education was thought of as a remedy against hatred and ignorance. The results are less than encouraging: the world has never been as educated, and paranoia and xenophobia are as alive as ever.

I have been thinking lately about the ethics of over-promising. Did we, educators, implicitly promised to solve problems we cannot truly solve? We have been happy to receive public funding under a false assumption that we can reduce inequality (we did not), diminish xenophobia (we did a little), eliminate racism, reduce poverty, and solve a host of other social problems. What is the moral responsibility of the one who promises regarding the extent of their ability to deliver? Are we pitching snake oil to the public?

To be fair, on some promises, we delivered. Getting a college degree does improve your life outcomes. Desegregation actually benefited a lot of children. Head Start is a successful program. Free and reduced lunch program does improve children’s wellbeing. Multicultural education does reduce prejudice. I am not linking empirical source here, but I think I can find evidence for each of these and many other positive outcomes. We are doing something very impactful.

An ethical position is not to over-promise, and not to under-promise either. Our professional responsibility is to be clear on what we can, and what we cannot deliver. An old plumber in Ohio told me about my old war box house’s sewage pipes: “I will clean your roots for you, but you will be calling me the same time next year.” The caveat is a sign of professional responsibility. We just need to be very clear with ourselves and with the public on what we can, and what we cannot deliver. While the principle is clear, I am not sure of the pragmatics of the solution. Who exactly, and how should tell the public about the limits of education as a vehicle of social improvement? I cannot think of a genre of scholarship of policy communication that does this. Which advisory to which political body will deliver the language of moderation? No one wants to hear the “curb your enthusiasm” message in the midst of political fight over resources. Do you want some extra funding for K-12 education? Well, maybe this is not a good time to tell people what you cannot achieve. And there is never a good time to say it, because there is always a political fight for resources. So keep on giving false promises. Will we eventually suffer from the backlash? Oh, wait, we already do.

After the pandemic: soft or hard landing

Many large CSU campuses have not yet dealt with the anxiety of dropping enrollments so prevalent in most of the country. Because of our young, ambitious, mostly immigrant population and relatively generous public support, we never really had to think hard what students really want. They came anyway. This is all about to change soon, and we will be subjected to the unrelenting forces of market-driven competition for enrollments. I am just a little worried about how well we as a system are prepared for it.

Here is one example. A new diversity among students has emerged and is patently obvious to anyone who wants to notice. Some students prefer f2f classes while others prefer more hybrid and online classes. We can debate endlessly about why this new split had emerged, and which group is wiser than the other. The difference in preferences does exist, and we can chose to ignore it or address it. “Hard landing” would be to ignore these new preferences, then face a drop in enrollments, and then fight to get back those students who may have come to us if we were more accommodating. A “soft landing”  would be to hedge our bets, and try to accommodate both groups of students.

Neither of these two options is easy. Going fully back to the pre-pandemic f2f world just does not seem like a good idea. And yet we do not know what to go to. So far, we have been operating on arbitrary target numbers, like 80-20, or 75-25, where the first number is for f2f or hybrid sections, and the second is about online sections. We do not know, however, what the real preference is. We do not know how many students want fully online programs, and how many – just some classes online and others f2f.

If we try to accommodate, the same questions must be answered. Do we redo whole programs, or just throw in a few online sections, so students can choose? Logistically, it is very difficult to guarantee students either a f2f or online track within an existing program, mostly because of our gened and free electives, and partially because of accreditation definitions. Adding additional layer of complexity will stretch our ability to manage to the point of breaking. And what if we misjudge the situation, and offer something students do not want, or few of them do? That would be a waste of resources. From a PR point of view “Sac State will meet your preference for online, f2f or hybrid course modalities” would be a great promise. The question is – can we keep it?

I have too many questions and too few answers. This is probably one of those cases where a committee could work through these issues. I just don’t think we can afford to ignore it.

There is no shortage of teachers, only shortage of money to pay them

The absolute majority of policy-makers work under the assumption that the laws of labor markets somehow doe not apply to teachers. The professions is somehow exempt from the basic laws of economics, like supply and demand.  Every few decades, the US educational systems go into paroxysms of teacher shortages. The panic results in urging to prepare more teachers, exalting the virtues of teaching profession, and just luring more people in. ‘

However, teacher educators prepare more than enough teachers; our school districts just cannot hold on to them. The problem is about 90% in teacher retention, and only about 10% in supply problems. The labor shortages in other professions are resolved differently. For example, when we do not have enough plumbers, the labor market reacts, and their wages go up. Some people agree to pay more, and eventually more people will want to be lumbers, while others will learn how to install a toilet on their own, and the demand shrinks. The market balances itself. If a teacher would make $100,000 a year, we would have no shortage, and could be more selective in who we admit into the profession. Millions of people with credentials that do not work in schools will return to classroom. No exaltations of virtuous teachers would be needed, no heroism, or the language of public service. Of course, no one wants to significantly increase taxation to pay for it, hence the hand wringing.

It would be much more honest for, say, the California State Assembly to pass a resolution like this: “Sorry, folks, we overpromised and cannot deliver. We built a huge universal educational system, made promises of quality teaching and afterschool enrichment, of supporting equal chances in life for children of different backgrounds, of and services to children with special needs. But we cannot do it on the tax money we can collect from you. Not enough teacher want to work for the salaries we pay. Therefore, the State is declaring the great educational bankruptcy. Starting tomorrow, the school districts are allowed to collect tuition from parents who can afford to pay it,  and use the additional revenue to compete for better teachers. All the promises are off the table. Free and universal public education ends now. It was a good run, but alas the public does not really want it.” This is not what I want to happen, just pointing out this would be an honest solution; more honest than letting tens of thousands of absolutely unprepared substitute teachers to babysit the most needy children.

Modality and morality or Do not go back to normal if it was abnormal

There we go again. I felt smug about figuring out a perfect solution, only to realize it does not work in real life. In ASL, facial expressions are an essential part of the language. Wearing a mask makes it very difficult to communicate. Face shields tend to fog up and they have a glare problems. I thought we would keep ASL interpreters on Zoom, and project the Zoom onto the large screen for meetings – and pipe any presentation through the same Zoom window. All participants, on Zoom and in the room would see the same thing, and the interpreter would not have to wear a mask. So, Binod, Michele, Leah and I went in to test the hypothesis. We tried our most advanced media studio room.

Here is how it went:
- What happens when a Deaf person from the audience wants to speak at a meeting? I need to see them up close, - says Michele, our interpreter.
- They will sign into a special laptop station with a camera. For equity, all speakers will have to come up to that station to speak.
- That’s a lot of commotion for everyone to come up to the speaking station, even to ask a quick question.
- OK, what if everyone will have a laptop and be logged into Zoom at the same time?
- Multiple Zoom sessions will create audio feedback, bunch of echoes – we learned that last year.
- OK, they will all be muted, and the room mics will pick up their speech.
- I imagine bunch of people in the room, each staring at and speaking/signing into their laptops… Why did they come f2f to begin with?
- [Silence]

This is just a small part of that testing exercise. At some point, we realized that someone had to be essentially a camera operator, and make sure the right picture is on screen and in Zoom. We have to develop a process where people on Zoom would feel as included in the conversation as people in the room – same opportunity to speak, same level of empowerment to affect the outcome of the meeting. In other words, every little problem has a solution. However, in aggregate, they are too much to overcome. Every little thing can go wrong. And it is too much to handle for whoever facilitates those meetings. Since I lead the College meetings, it would be me. I am not tech-shy at all, but that would be too much even for me.

Do not always listen to techno-optimists. Sometimes the technology is simply not there. The techies are trained to think how to solve problems. It is very difficult for them to say “sorry, we cannot solve this problem yet.” They will keep thinking about yet another camera, another powerful microphone, another trick to match displays, etc. Interestingly, the ed tech industry have been working on the problem of split classrooms for decades, so it is very hard for them to admit the problem has not been yet solved. It may be one day, like in Sci-Fi movies, where you are talking to a hologram, and are not aware this is not an actual human being. But we are very far from that.

Here is a really profound question for you. Why do we want to get back to f2f “normal” meetings? Because we enjoy the full spectrum of sensory experiences - an occasional short chat, a glimpse of other people, an aside joke, the body language, the energy of the room. But many of those things are inaccessible to Deaf and hard of hearing, to people with limited vision, with a difficulty processing facial expressions, not fluent in the working language, etc. What is fun for an able-bodied person is exactly the thing that excludes others.

Zoom is also incredibly limiting, but it is limiting to everyone in about the same way. At least we figured out how to make the interpreter visible. Thanks to artificial intelligence, the auto-captioning is actually OK: not as good as the best human captioner, but better than a terrible one. We learned that zoom-based meeting are not as much fun, but they do the job – things get discussed, and decisions made. Now, tell me, on balance, would you trade fun for most for more inclusion for all?

Moreover, the split modality will create a new underclass of people who cannot come. The very nature of the duel (split) modality puts the two groups of participants in two very different positions. It is impossible to provide equal opportunity and equal experience for both. By the way the few faculty that tried to teach the split classroom (we call it HyFlex here) all hated it. It requires too much effort from the instructor and takes attention away from teaching. Add accommodation for disability to this already very difficult task, and this is a recipe for disaster.

Now, when we go back completely back to normal, and not driving to a meeting will be indeed a preference, then we do not owe that much to people who chose to stay home. We can provide marginal participation opportunity for them, as a courtesy. If you want full participation – come here. But we are not in that world yet. People who do not come may have medical concerns for themselves, and their families. It looks like Zoom meetings are here to stay for some time. And even then, why go back to normal that has been exclusionary? How do we redefine the normal, so it works for more people? It may be the case that Zoom meetings are here to stay for a long time.

From the dictatorship of tests to a new educator preparation framework

It took a global pandemic to start undoing the damage done by the regime of teacher preparation that can be describes as over-under-regulation. A whole succession of federal policies is largely responsible for it: The No Child Left Behind, the Rate to the Top and the NCLB waiver regime. The Fed finally got out of the business of reforming education, but states continue to demonstrate significant inertia.

The regime consisted of two somewhat mutually exclusive pillars. The first is imposing multiple regulatory hurdles on the individual teacher candidate. No, it is not enough to finish high school; you must also pass a basic skills test. No, it is not enough to get a major from an accredited university; you must also pass a subject-matter knowledge test. And in many states, including California, you also must pass either a reading test, or somethings else to appease some crazy lobbyist still shock-shelled after the ancient Reading Wars. If the first pillar is about over-regulation, the second one is the opposite: let anyone, any school district or a local brewery open their own teacher preparation program, as long as they comply with some basic rules. That was a response to the conservative attacks on teacher preparation institutions in the University. We were called “Too theoretical” (read “Too social justice-oriented”).

Now the dictatorship of tests has started to crumble simply because during the pandemic, there was no way to administer all these tests, and states had to show some flexibility. And guess what – the sky did not fall on earth. This is beyond just teacher preparation; the entire duopoly of SAT/ACT is unraveling right before our eyes. Many universities had removed them from admission requirements, and guess what? – Yes you guessed it right, nothing terrible happened or is likely to happen. If anything, elite universities may become a little more diverse

What should state governments do? Right now, they are simply suspending or abandoning the most burdensome and non-sensical requirements. However, this time of change calls for a more comprehensive, more intentional shift in regulating teacher preparation. Both the intent of the new policy and its content should be constructed with the full use of research base, but also with the clarity of values connected to public interest.

One approach would be to prioritize diversification of the profession and encouraging professional self-regulation. For states like California, with rapidly changing demographics, the former is no brainer. The latter may be a bit more controversial, for we are asking our officials to overcome decades of suspicion toward teacher preparation programs. However, in our business professional ethics had always worked better than external controls. I’ve been at it for over 30 years. Every single time when we managed to improve something was because my colleagues wanted it to happen, not because someone told them what to do. Ethics is a material tangible asset. As far as regulatory tools go, shame and pride are much more powerful than accountability and compliance.

1. Radical expansion of access. Right now, admission to teacher preparation program in almost every state is a nightmare of hoop-jumping exercise. The profession is just not welcoming to anyone, especially to candidates of color and to first generation in college.
2. In admissions to credential programs:
• Expanding ways of demonstrating subject matter mastery based on academic credentials earned plus possibly some review of transcripts.
• Abandon basic skills testing. It does not exist for other professions. If regionally accredited higher ed institutions give bachelor degrees to people without basic literacy skills, let’s fix the higher education accreditation. But stop suspecting every future teacher of being illiterate.
• Valuing cultural competency and lived experiences as well as subject matter knowledge. It is not that difficult to achieve. Take into consideration the exposure to diversity in high school experience, fluency in a second language, experiences of living abroad, etc – such forms of cultural capital are important for future teachers.
3. In awarding credentials, move away from blanket EDTPA control to assessing a random sample of candidates. We helped Pearson collect hundreds of millions of dollars from struggling students, for a well over a decade now. Isn’t this time for them to show that EDTPA actually predicts teacher performance in the classroom? Is there proof that it does? If they still cannot do that after all this time, perhaps we should think of some other way of external validation for teacher preparation programs? The evidence so far is very mixed (Goldhaber et.al 2017) or negative (Greenblatt 2015).
4. In program approval, most states and CAPE use meaningless procedures like looking for places in syllabi where a certain ill-considered standard element is introduced, taught, or assessed. This ritual has nothing to do with research, nor does it reflect the real strengths or weaknesses of the program under review. The standards are made by a consensus of random experts and determined by each expert stamina more than their expertise. Almost none of the teacher preparation standards have any research base to rely on. And this is no secret – everyone in the know knows that. What works in program approval is when colleagues from other institutions come and look into what we do. States should keep and strengthen the peer-review part of the process, and radically reduce the mindless compliance activities resulting in thousands of pages of paperwork.

I am not going to insist these exact approaches should be used. However, I am certain state governments need new frameworks, some coherent strategy on what to do with its educator workforce and educator preparation.

References

Goldhaber, D., Cowan, J., & Theobald, R. (2017). Evaluating prospective teachers: Testing the predictive validity of the edTPA. Journal of Teacher Education, 68(4), 377-393.

Greenblatt, D., & O'Hara, K. E. (2015). Buyer Beware: Lessons Learned from EdTPA Implementation in New York State. Teacher Education Quarterly, 42(2), 57-67.

Hybrid as default: Imagining a post-COVID university

The year of forced distant learning is revealing two contradictory ideas: One is that meaningful instruction in the online environment is possible, although not easy. The other is that students and faculty physical co-presence for relationship building. My prediction is obvious: the post-COVID higher education will settle somewhere in between. While students and faculty crave on-campus experience, they are not craving all of it. Students will still love to hang out on campus, but not necessarily sit in hot packed classrooms. The need for human connection can be satisfied in fewer hours and trips on campus, without significant loss of learning. I think we should expect the hybrid mode of instruction to become the default. Obviously, there will be expanded online-only programming, and there will be exceptions at the other end, For example, I cannot foresee theater or dance programs going hybrid. But the bulk of coursework will settle somewhere in between. I know this may sound as a simplistic prediction, almost too obvious to matter. However, the most obvious is often the most realistic.

Sac State is engaging in planning for a new campus in Placer County. So far plans look somewhat boring: they for a typical college campus, with need for rooms driven by CSU formulas and matrices developed decades ago. How about envisioning a hub of hybrid instruction? We probably need fewer classrooms, but also classrooms that allow remote participation in instruction. We would need more places for students to work individually or in small groups. It would be nice to integrate cafes, shopping areas, entertainment venues, so life is not as separate from learning as it used to be. As we cannot expect large public investments, perhaps the new campus should also use a non-traditional economic model. Otherwise, it is not clear where they money will come from.

I am just so relieved to start thinking about wonderful mundane and practical things, and stop worrying about the coup d'état.

Is preschool a deniable service?

Karen, and Associate Dean, and I had exactly the same thought while visiting a preschool in Shenyang: “Why they can afford it, and we cannot?” The preschool is a gorgeous building with large windows, a number of role-play areas (a toy kitchen, a supermarket, a hospital). There was a multi-layer crawl construction in the middle, bedrooms for all children, classrooms, a pond with real fish, a fruit and vegetable garden… Whatever stereotypes you may have about Chinese preschool, definitely did not apply – the kids were happy, outgoing, curious, and busy playing and socializing. I specifically asked if this private preschool is an exception. I was told that it is one of the 5-stars, better preschools, but by no means is an exception in the city of 8 million. In fact, many university faculty kids went here. In China, university professors are solidly middle class, of course, making more than an average person, but still one can tell – this is not a place only for the elite.

Now, the median salary in Shenyang is $14,826 per year, while the median household income in in Sacramento is $ $56,943. Those are not the same measures, but still. Why is it again that they can afford such preschool, and we cannot? I actually know all the answers – about the labor cost, about the taxation structure, about the paternalistic state… Yet somehow, none of these answers satisfies. We have the money build and run quality preschool for every child. What we lack is a political consensus on whether such a service is undeniable.

There is a class of services I call undeniable – they are impossible to deny to anyone. And the list of those services have been expanding with time. For example, anyone who shows up at an emergency room will be served regardless of income. That right cannot be denied anymore, even though it is a relatively recent achievement. No one can starve in this country. While some people’s diet may be terrible, there has not been starvation. No child can be denied a K-12 education. Its quality may be questionable at times, but K-12 education is an undeniable service.

As the scope of undeniable services grows, so does the role of the state. You may or may not be a fun of socialism (I am definitely not one), but the practical reality is strikingly obvious: the list of deniable services keeps shrinking, while the list of undeniable services keeps growing. Preschool is still a deniable service, but for how long? Higher education is deniable, but we are not sure if it lasts. Basic healthcare has been deemed an undeniable service in most of the developed world, with the exception of the US, but the exception will not last for long. The existence of disposable wealth itself drive the process. It becomes morally impossible to see a starving person in the middle of an affluent society. There are many socialist and even communist institutions in the US, you only have to make an effort to see them. Public libraries are utopian communist organizations – free to all, unlimited. The military and the police, public education, community health clinics, environmental protection, fire departments, urban infrastructure - all socialist institutions, already here.

As anyone who grew in the Soviet Union, I am wary of all things socialist. A powerful bureaucratic state contains many dangers, including over-rich into private lives, and inefficiencies. At the same time, I cannot ignore the growth of undeniable services, and am not at all surprised at the rise of the Left wing of the Democratic Party. I am not sure what it would do to the next election, but the long trend seems to be towards more socialism, and more redistribution of income. We will have preschools in Sacramento like that one in Shenyang, sooner or later.

No place for democracy in standard development

At a recent state-wide Deans of Education meeting, I asked why our state’s standards for teacher preparation (TPEs) are so long. For example, this proposed set of standards has 93 items on it, which makes any meaningful compliance impossible. One of the panelist responded “It is because of the democratic process is used to develop the standards.” She added that the elements are mere guidelines, and that of course, institutions are not asked to demonstrate meeting every element of the standard. But that is exactly what we are required to do, and the panelist just could not imagine such an absurd is possible. A less charitable colleague described the process of standard development as multiple special interest groups lobbying for inclusion of their things in the standards.

No matter what do you call it, there is a problem with documents developed through broadly based participatory input. Just remember when you were a part of a group that brainstormed something. Everyone in the group needs some recognition. When you come up with an idea, you want it added to the list, otherwise you feel worthless, and rejected by the group. The groups has an interest in maintaining peace and cohesion, so it is likely to accept your idea even if it is marginal or just weird. That is how we end up with laundry lists of standard elements that are impossible to use in real life.

It is important to solicit input from broader constituencies. However, any brainstorming should always be followed by a critical phase, where a smaller group would apply a critical eye to the lists of generated ideas. Each item has to be checked against the purposes of the document. For example, can programs actually credibly show that they are meeting this specific element? It would be good to check if a requirement has any kind of basis in research. Standards should be evidence-based, and derive from research. For the example, the proposed set includes “diverse learning styles,” a theory that was debunked more than ten years ago.

Finally, California regulators completely ignore the Item response theory, which is, more or less, the essence of the contemporary psychometrics. Here is how you take GRE in math test now. If you can answer a calculus question, you will not be asked to prove that you know the long divisions, or fractions. It is because statistically speaking, people who have more advanced skills, are very likely to also have the lower level skills in the same field. Deborah Ball had a somewhat similar idea, when she came up with the idea of “High-leverage practices.” For example, if a teacher can show that she or he can adjust instruction, we can safely assume that the teacher is capable of formative assessment. Otherwise, how would she know how to adjust? Extending this logic, if a teacher can “Apply knowledge of the range and characteristics of typical and atypical child development [...] to help inform both short-term and long-term planning and learning experiences for all children,” s/he should be able to “Differentiate characteristics of typical and atypical child development.” However, the standards check for both. There is no way teaching performance can consist of 93 different scales. Some of the items should be measuring the same constructs, right? Some of the elements can be included in others.

I am not just grumbling. Poorly designed, bloated, and unenforceable standards cost the taxpayers millions and millions of dollars in labor cost and lost opportunity. More significantly, they demoralize faculty, who must pretend to comply with the poorly designed requirements. I just met with two young faculty members to discuss their committee work. One of them had recently turned in a 317 page-long matrix document, and another was in a very small group that submitted a 546-page long document. In addition, they were asked to submit things like Lists of all students and their placements, list of all faculty by status and by courses taught, adjunct faculty and TT faculty job announcements, student handbooks, Hours in the Field by Type of Activity, Current list of MOUs with partners, training materials for supervisors, clinical experiences assessment instruments, Description of Process Ensuring Appropriate Recommendation, Candidate Progress Monitoring Documents, etc., ad nauseam. I felt bad for them. Did they work so hard on their PhDs to do all this mindless work? Does anyone really think these torturous processes assure program quality?

All of this is because of one small error. Standard development cannot be a democratic, all-inclusive process. Or rather, the initial phase of it can, but not the whole of it. We failed to build in a second phase, where someone with an OK knowledge of research and some common sense could just edit it down by let’s say 90%.

The celestial world of policy

Long time ago, I used to assume that a mind greater than human has designed the world of policies for all eternity. These rules and policies perfectly match and do not contradict each other; they gently spin in a perfect harmony, vibrating with the music of heavenly spheres. When I encountered a mistake, a contradiction, a badly written policy, I thought all those people in power must be complete idiots…

The relationship of a person to an organization is somewhat similar to that of a child and her parents. To a small child, parents appear to be perfect and omnipotent. To an adolescent, they look like complete jerks and failures. A young adult eventually learns to accept his or her parents the way they are – imperfect, messy, confused, erring, but mostly OK human beings. That is what an organization and its policies are: written by human beings who are fallible, imperfect, tired, and sometimes irritated at something very specific. With time, the organizational memory fails to recall what was the occasion, but a policy tends to stick around. New policies are being written because no one remembers all the other policies, and we do not have the time to check for consistency. However, it does not mean the policies and rules are useless or stupid. It simply means we have to read them intelligently, try to understand the initial intent and the rationale, and apply them as well as we can while keeping the organization’s mission and ethos in mind.

Here is one example: we have a policy in the College that a university-wide committee for whatever reason was not able to approve for about a year and a half. We voted for a few changes, mainly to eliminate previous errors and inconsistencies. There was also one untenable requirement. Technically, we are supposed to use the older policy with more errors that can actually hurt some faculty. What should we do? The answer seems obvious to me – we use our better policy even though it has not been formally approved. Can someone complain or grieve us? – Not really, because to complain, you need to show some damages, and none is likely to occur. In fact, people are more likely to complain if we use the old, erroneous policy.

Policies, like laws, are not laws of nature. They cannot always be followed literally to the last point. This is why there is a whole world of law interpretation, when it is applied to new cases and changing circumstances. This is why the legal system has courts, not computers. Human affairs cannot be governed by algorithms precisely because we generate too much variation and too much uncertainty.

The end of the educational reform?

Here is my report from AACTE’s Day on the Hill event. Democrats are in a defensive mood; their priority is to preserve whatever education funding they can in response to the administration’s aggressive cuts proposal. The legislative branch in general seems to have lost appetite for educational reform. The only new initiative comes out of Jack Reed’s office. It is a bill to reform the Title II of the Higher Education Act. Some improvements to the TQP program, report streamlining, incentives for states to close down poor teacher preparation programs. This is hardly revolutionary, or even ambitious. The era of big by-partisan reform efforts seemed to culminate in the Race to the Top and NCLB waiver programs. The administration voucher initiative is unlikely to receive support among democrats and many Republicans. The idea is not new, have been thoroughly researched and found ineffective, and just politically hard to implement because of the states’ control over much of educational funding.

The pause can be explained by a combination of two things: The President does not have education as his priority, unlike the four Presidents before him. And even if he had ideas, the administration seems to be paralyzed anyway. However, I think there is a second, much more profound reason: no one has ideas anymore.

In the last half-century, there were only three big ideas for education: choice, technology, and accountability. All three turned out to be duds (For more detail, see this book, when it comes out). The school choice concept had all the markings of a brilliant economic reform. However, have no evidence it works. The positive effect is at best, minimal. The accountability may have some limited positive effects on student learning, but again, not nearly of the scale the reformers were hoping for. In addition, it has significant side effects, including the suppression of grass-roots innovation, which are hard to measure. The information technology does not yet seem to affect the academic achievement. The global education community has tried the three reforms in various combinations, with about the same negligible result. What is next? - Literally, no one knows.

Correction; the ideas people have seem to be a bit plain, a bit boring, a bit common sense. For example, in educator preparation, we have known teacher induction to be the weak link (the economics of it does not work). Well, try to push a massive education bill through the House and the Senate, focusing on induction. Good luck. We also have learned from well performing countries that teachers do better if they have independence, more control over their work, meaningful professional development, opportunities for team work. OK, how do you legislate that? Pass a law to respect teachers? Mandate getting rid of useless PD, and replacing it with good PD? Somehow, none of these seem politically feasible. The other large chunk of the real agenda is addressing children’s lives beyond school – poverty, chronic stress, health, nutrition, family support, residential desegregation. Yet no one had at the federal level had an appetite for such things for a long time. In fact, all the educational reforms were implemented in hope that the government won’t be doing the hard things.

I am not pessimistic. The challenges we have are actually exciting. How do you improve education without the Federal government? How do we formulate ideas for change that don’t just make sense to educators, but also engage wider political forces? How do we make education an agenda item?

These are times to think big, to think fresh, to shape the future.