18 minute read
Fees in a Pandemic
The cost of tertiary education in South Africa is an issue that makes a reprisal at the beginning of each academic year. Every January, social media is saturated with pleas for financial assistance, crowdfunding posts and outrage that we find ourselves marching for access to education yet again. What makes 2021 more unique is the sheer magnitude of students who would face this challenge due to financial implications the pandemic has had on South African families. This article aims to investigate the increase of university fees during a pandemic. This article does not intend to delve into the matter of historic debt or the fee crisis, but a discussion about tuition fees can never take place without placing it into context.
One of the greatest changes the pandemic has brought about is the move to a socially distanced university experience. Campuses, once a gathering place for thousands, are only willing to accommodate a few hundred in order to stay in line with national standards on gatherings. Most students are now studying through ‘physically distanced methods’ which involve, for the most part, learning via the internet and self-study. With less access to amenities and the loss of in-person teaching, the constant question is whether university fees reflect the new style of teaching.
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When one is considering the backdrop of the fees crisis, it is important to understand how tertiary education has changed. The pandemic called into question the entire structure of the education sector. The shift to physically-distanced learning has forced a majority of universities to deliver their courses primarily online. Some universities opted for a combined online and physical teaching approach, which entails online lectures and in-person practicals. Many universities were forced to upgrade their information and technology systems in order to meet the demands of digital learning and teaching. Seasoned educators who were persistent in their rejection of modern teaching methods were forced to train themselves in the use of technology. Some universities which were historically reserved for non-white citizens, simply could not make these changes and opted to pause their academic calendars until some form of in-person learning could
These changes have a cost implication for universities. Bolstering digital infrastructure was an unprecedented expense and additional provisions had to be made in training the staff to deliver their courses online. Accessibility for students was a key element, and many universities currently provision data allowances for students who study off-campus, while still maintaining the Wi-Fi infrastructure for the students who occupy residences. Many of the overheads in the running of universities remained the same. Many universities chose not to retrench staff nor to reduce their pay. Additionally, with some universities running limited services, certain facilities such as libraries and research labs have had to remain fully functional, while other services were entirely online. A close example is the Kramer Law building, which remained closed for the greater portion of 2020. So, with the learning experience having changed so drastically, what makes up the cost of tuition in 2021?
In ordinary circumstances, the cost of tuition is split across teaching, learning materials, facilities, staff salaries and other miscellaneous costs. As mentioned before, physically distanced learning is vastly different from in person classes. Online learning now primarily comprises digital content such as narrated slideshows, pre-recorded videos, podcasts, chatrooms, discussion boards and online quizzes. Tests, assignments and examinations for the most part have been held online. Video conferencing tools such as Zoom and Microsoft teams have become critical for holding meetings and providing additional support, but using these platforms en masse often requires subscription.
These new costs must be taken into consideration, but one must not ignore that many of these services have always been included in the cost of tuition. Most universities have subscriptions to thousands of research databases and computer applications for each student, in order to allow them to complete their work. One such example is the entire Microsoft Office Suite, which every student has access to during their studies. It is not that these costs are completely new and sudden, but rather that both students and staff are now far more reliant on these.
With the move to online learning, most facilities are partially closed and require less maintenance due to less use. It speaks to reason that overheads like electricity and water will be less and that should reflect in tuition costs. One has to ask then how different the mode of learning is to universities that have always functioned entirely through distance.
When discussing the fees crisis, a key discussion point is the #FeesMustFall movement. This movement began in 2015, in response to the planned increases in course fees for 2016. Its core message was clear: the cost of tertiary education made it inaccessible to the poorer portion of school-leavers. This poorer demographic is composed almost entirely of Black, Coloured and Indian persons, descendants of the groups left economically impoverished by the apartheid regime. The cost of education created a class barrier which was indirectly racist due to the proximity of racial profile to class disparity. The movement also brought attention to the matter of the ‘missing middle’, the category of students who do not qualify for the NFSAS, but cannot afford the cost of tertiary education. Over and above this, the movement criticised government for failing to fulfil the constitutional right to education all South Africans hold. The measures taken in 2015 provided temporary relief, but the cost of fees has continued the trend of annual increases. Due to this, the movement lingers on, the protest reigniting with each registration period. Nearly six years after the movement began, historic debt and fee blocks have returned the matter to national attention.
We now turn to the University of South Africa (UNISA). UNISA is a premier distance education provider in South Africa which services a large number of students who are not in a position to pursue an academic qualification on a full-time basis. The cost of the most expensive full-year module (or course) at UNISA comes in at R3403, where some students can expect to pay an estimate of between R5000 to R15 000 at contact institutions. The massive price
difference may come from the additional resources students studying at a contact institution have, but given the reduction in contact activities, the question that remains is, why is the difference still so high?
The differing rates of infection globally have slowed down the academic year in varying degrees. Some institutions in more heavily affected countries like the United States and the United Kingdom have yet to return to face-to-face learning at all. In East Asia, where the pandemic is largely under control, contact lessons have been the norm for a few months already, affecting how students interpret fee increments. It is important to note here that there is some international consensus among students that university fees have become too high, increasing at rates far greater than inflation.
The College Board, an organisation which tracks the pricing of higher education in the US, reported that several institutions intended to reduce their tuition fees. This has been brought about partially by the student debt crisis in which the US finds itself, but has been exacerbated by the pandemic’s economic impact. Locally, the University of the Western Cape, which was established in the 1960s for Coloured persons, was among the earliest to freeze their tuition fees. The initiative taken by UWC was lauded and led to the criticism of institutions such as Wits and UCT, which are resource rich from their proximity to whiteness during their formative years.
We can establish from the above that higher education institutions have taken a varied approach to the annual fee increments. Some have elected to freeze fees, while some have opted to reduce fees. The majority however have applied the annual increment, an act which has been perceived as anti-poor. The backlash received from this has pressured many institutions to allow students to register for their studies with the existing student debt. The late decisions to allow students to register with debt has exposed that institutions do indeed have the capacity to take measures like this but do not. Many institutions acted in the best interest of staff, by ensuring job security and maintaining salaries as they were – a welcome decision. Similar concessions should be made to the student body. Mere acknowledgement that students are also facing financial distress is insufficient.
From the discussion above it is evident that tuition pricing is fraught with challenges and can never be done without considering the right to basic education. It is undeniable that universities and the student body they cater to have been forced to adapt to the circumstances. Despite protest, students have applied themselves to the new style of learning and assessment. The flexibility and patience that students have displayed throughout the past year deserves to be met with similar enthusiasm, and I am of the belief that, at the very minimum, universities should have been mandated to freeze tuition costs. Moreover, in light of the changes and hardships that were brought about by the pandemic, institutions should remodel and restructure tuition in efforts to accommodate all students.
Get to Know a Lecturer: Lauren Kohn
(Constitutional Law and Administrative Law)
What is your background in law and why did you decide to become a lecturer?
Truth be told, after matriculating I didn’t quite know what I wanted to specialise in, though, if I’d been able to go rogue and had had the cash, I would have run off to the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts in London – I loved performing, but also painting and all things linguistic. Neither of my parents enjoyed the privilege of a tertiary education and so they didn’t quite know how to advise me at the time. So, I decided to start with the ‘general’ before finding my ‘specific’ niche: Business Science and a UCT-Res-experience it was. I loved campus life and meeting people from other parts of the country and continent. B.Bus.Sci was a gruelling baptism by fire at tertiary level, though, and I can’t say, “debit – credit-ing” lit my fire. As a result, I perhaps over-compensated. I registered for additional courses like English, Film Study, French 2, and brought the Business Law module forward and this proved seminal. Somehow, I ended up in the Law Library, under a picture of Helen Suzman, paging through old versions of the SALJ and the Law Reports and I have a very clear memory of this moment. I wanted to read, question and solve in this field. Even the recollection of the scent of those books full of knowledge (be it morally good or bad) excited me. In that moment, I decided I would specialise in Law, and once my gut tells me something, I tend to defer to it.
I started the LLB subjects in my 3rd year of B.Bus.Sci and my soul felt happy. I also met my partner (now husband and father of our three children) in Kramer and it was wonderful to enjoy the benefits of mutual support (rather than competition). Speaking of which, I didn’t know I had a gift when it comes to the Law until our Intermediate Year final exam results came out. In my day, you had to go in and look for your student number and check your marks on a notice board. I discovered I’d come first or second in almost every subject, and to be honest, I genuinely didn’t expect this – I re-checked the marks several times!
At the end of my LLB, I was head-hunted by a NY Law Firm that started recruiting SA legal scholars, and I had also been offered a scholarship to do my LLM at Duke in the US. I went off for the interview. I recall feeling my heart wasn’t in it though and I felt a bit burnt-out at the end of my LLB. I also wasn’t yet being driven by a clear question or impulse in terms of Masters-level study. As it happened, a few days after I accepted the job offer – mainly because it felt like something I ought to do – my mom was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. She and I have always been extremely close, so I did not hesitate to phone the firm in NY and turn these opportunities down. I was by my mom’s side during those first six months of the most gruelling chemo and then took up a TA position in the Department of Private Law, and got roped into tutoring Administrative Law too, after which I went on to do my articles at what was then Webber Wentzel Incorporating Mallinicks Attorneys. It was here that I fell in love with public-law work.
The field in practice is so dynamic, interesting and relevant and I worked in a wonderful team of ‘bad-
ass’, yet supportive, female mentors who juggled motherhood and lawyering so effectively. I loved being part of a team and solving real-world problems, and I did so with passion for over four years. However, after many members of the original team moved on to the Bar, the dynamic changed and I felt it was time to attend to that unfinished business of my LLM, now with a clear research focus in mind – which, as it turns out, was ground-breaking at the time – something I remain incredibly proud of.
On conclusion of my LLM I had a cancer scare myself – I should add, at this point, that after seven years of chemo my mom beat non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma! I had a minor surgery and I felt tired.
But I’ve always ‘trusted in the process’, as lame as that may sound. The then-Dean approached me in 2013 to ask if I’d be interested in joining the faculty as a lecturer on contract to help build an academic development programme in Constitutional Law, and teach some Administrative Law. I didn’t see myself as a typical academic; perhaps in some ways
I still don’t. But, even at that point, I knew two things with absolute certainty: I love the law and I love to impart it, so I agreed and I soon realised I had found something that truly ignites my spirit and sparks my mind. I love engaging with the youth; I’m an enthusiastic person by nature, and I think one of my strengths is being able to cut through the wool and simplify the complex. My students seemed to value this and this mutual appreciation encouraged me to keep pouring my love and energy into the teachingand-learning endeavour. It has not always been easy but I have continued to write and teach, to think, to hope, to do my best to inspire and encourage others. And that is why I’m here and this is who I am.
What are you most passionate about regarding the law?
I love its inherent potential and value (to solve problems, give effect to rights, create food for thought) as well as its (related) instrumental value as a tool for change – for educating, empowering and enriching, at various levels of society and in various ways. I love its silo-shattering potential: that you can help a client, student, NGO (or even a court, through your academic writing) by revealing that a problem is generally multi-faceted and often needs solving through a careful weaving of a tapestry of legal principles. I love marrying my knowledge in different fields of law, as well as my practical and academic experience, and showing students that problem-solving can be fun, inspiring, and thought-provoking. I also feel very strongly about educating people on their humanrights. I’ve started teaching my daughters about their constitutional rights and had to laugh at my 3-year-old the other day after she stripped-down, turned around and wagged her figure at me, vehemently proclaiming, ‘Don’t look at my privacy!’
What you wish you had known as a law student?
I wish I’d had better guidance in selecting my finalyear electives. I picked subjects that I thought one ought to do (like Revenue Law – no offence intended) rather than those I was genuinely passionate about and/or intrigued by. The final-year-elective endeavour is a great opportunity to expose yourself to an array of niche fields which you otherwise might not get exposure to. Anyway, no regrets as they say. I do, after all, now know about tax transfer-pricing and how to resolve international conflicts of laws).
In short, do what you love and do you. Keep it simple; stay in your own lane; don’t do post-mortem discussions after exams; ‘attend’ all lectures and take your own notes; read the cases insofar as possible from beginning to end; and do your best to immerse yourself in the knowledge-developing moment You’ve got this – you must believe in yourself.
What kept you sane during the hard lockdown?
My new-born baby boy (who arrived on the third anniversary of my dad’s passing. I literally went into early labour on the day; he was born at 1:49pm and my dad passed away at 1:49pm! He is the sweetest little soul and his big sisters are obsessed with him. It was hectic – I’m not going to lie; and it was tough not being able to have family and friends pop around and support etc. But love keeps one sane, at the end of the day and there was a lot of that to go around. Plus: books, chocolate, and music!
I love the law and I love to impart it.’
What’s something that your students don’t know about you?
I love singing and dancing. I actually sing (ad hoc!) with a band at a random little spot in Plett when we
go on holiday there with the kids. My classic is “I will survive” and yes, we shall survive! And if I can dance the night away somewhere with friends, well that’s enough self-care to keep me going for at least six months!
What’s been the biggest difficulty/adjustment for you in navigating the ‘new normal’?
I’m very much a peoples’-person and in certain ways, a non-conformist, so the distancing (in various senses) has not always been easy, and I’ve not loved the necessity of certain ‘nanny-state-vibes’. The lockdown-experience has shown us first-hand the extent to which government can exercise widereaching executive powers by way of regulation and how sometimes this means human-rights-violations ensue in a way that is arguably unjustified. I also really miss riffing on the law in a more organic way in the classroom with my students – talking to myself in the ether is just not the same!
What annoys you about (teaching) law students?
I get a little upset (on their behalf…going ‘mom-vibe’ here) when they don’t attend lectures and/or read the key materials; when they resist independent / critical thinking and learn by rote instead – the ‘magic notes’ (?!). There is no magic in notes unless you’ve made them or at least tweaked / reflected upon them yourself, and when they don’t read the question and answer it directly (Please read the questions and think before you write. We WANT you to do well!).
Do you think the quality of law students being trained during the pandemic will be of the same calibre as previously?
In short, yes, but (hey this is law: there are some caveats) what you put in, you get out. Remote teachingand-learning (T&L) requires a higher degree of selfregulation from students; it also requires lecturers to think more critically and reflectively about their pedagogies, their acceptable boundaries and so on. Both parties need to put in the effort. Students need to feel they can access their lecturers and aren’t entirely isolated. Yet, it is about balance, as lectures also struggle with, for example, the different demands of working in a home-environment with children around etc. We need always to be mindful of the perspective of ‘the other’ – the person on the other end of the screen, the person trying to study without decent WiFi, the single-mom trying to juggle it all and so on. A culture of kindness is key. I believe we are putting tremendous effort into ensuring a quality T&L-product for our students; in maintaining connection; in ensuring a human-face for the space, despite the distance but the students need to digest the materials and put the work in timeously. They also need to know when and how to ask for help and from whom. I for one can say that I am always here to help insofar as possible.
Who are your role models?
There are the obvious personal heroes: my brave, caring mother and my late father, who lost his own dad at just 8, and started working from a young age to help his mom support his brothers, who turned down scholarships to do Law and Ac.Sci so he could help provide sooner, and who raised me in a way I shall forever be grateful for: always to back myself; stand up for what I believe in, for others, for principles; to avoid the jaws of complacency and comparison; and always to try and maintain a positive attitude irrespective of the adversity life throws at one.
Then, on a professional level, the legend that is Kate O’Regan – a much-admired mentor of mine – and, while I never met him personally, I have a great sense of respect and admiration for the late legal giant Pius Langa, former Chief Justice of our Constitutional Court. He was a remarkable jurist and human-being. Everyone I know who worked with him refers to his humility, inclusivity, kindness and brilliance. It comes through in his legal writing, and sometimes I just want to give him a massive high-five!
