Tag Archives: academic standards

Some Faculty Say Diversity Lowers Academic Quality

Harvey Mudd College has been roiled by a self-study, informally titled the Wabash report, that referred to some anonymous faculty declaring that efforts to promote diversity in the student body had lowered the quality of the school.  At first, the school tried to block publication or censor parts of the report, completed in 2015, but leaks began and The Student Life, the school newspaper, ran what it said was the full report on March 24 of this year.

In a letter to students four days later, the Faculty Executive Committee wrote: “A small number among our faculty have expressed their concern that the admission of women and marginalized students has led to a lowering of standards, but a majority of faculty members disagree. One only has to examine student performance in a wide range of courses to see that the intellectual richness we love at Harvey Mudd has been enhanced by a diverse student body.” The report has still not been officially released.

Science and math are important at Harvey Mudd, one of five liberal arts colleges in the Claremont consortium that also include Pomona, Scripps, Pitzer, and Claremont McKenna, plus two graduate schools.

A committee examining the Harvey Mudd classroom environment commissioned a study from the Center of Inquiry at Wabash College in Indiana. Two representatives from the center visited campus and conducted focus groups with students and faculty members. The reference in the Wabash report to possible student decline from diversity efforts is low-key, vaguely attributed and brief:

“…a significant number of faculty thought that Harvey Mudd students had, over time, become less capable of, and less interested in, meeting the challenge of Mudd’s difficult curriculum. While it is not unusual for us to hear faculty lament ‘the decline in the quality of students,’ what was unusual, in our experience, was that many students had heard and felt this sentiment from some of their faculty. The students had also heard that they weren’t as good as Mudd students in the past because there are more women and underrepresented ethnic minorities at Mudd now. While some students brushed off these comments, others either resented them or took them to heart.”

The report spends a good deal of time discussing the lack of student interest in the college’s honor code and even more time on students’ feelings that the pace and the amount of work required at Mudd are too heavy and relentless. The long list of student complaints included these:

“I realized there would be more flexibility in college, but it was much harder than I thought it would be.” • “You’re always thinking, what’s the next thing to do?” • “I have no extra time for anything really.” • “I know I’m not procrastinating because I don’t have the time. I worry that my shower takes too long.” • “I want to have time to go to the store, buy food, get a haircut, do laundry, but I can’t because anytime I spend doing that is time I’m spending not doing homework.” • “Usually I stop when everything is done for the next day, but there’s always more stuff to do.” • “The first semester is hard but doable. It’s not as bad because it is pass/fail. The second semester is horrible. I was working so much, and I don’t remember anything.” • “I felt like I was being clubbed in the head by problem sets.”

Faculty comments about student workload and its impact included: “Mudd has an oppressive curriculum.” • “‘Happy’ is not a common way of describing Mudd students.” • “When they graduate, a good chunk of Mudd students aren’t sure if they would do it again. • “There are no role models for students here. HMC seniors are burnt-out. They’re not inspiring students to develop good habits.” • “All students can do physics here. They just can’t do it with all the other things they have to do.” • “Play is not an institutional value here.” • “Students don’t have time to reflect or relax. “Students are stretched so thin that if any little thing goes wrong, it all blows up.”

Student protesters concentrated on more mental health services, possibly because the faculty comments on diversity lowering school quality were tucked away in an unreleased report run only in the school paper. They wanted funding for mental health services to be boosted every year by 25 percent until the 2021-22 academic year. They called for a release of the student affairs office’s budget, and additional money — $3,000 each — for six student groups that represent minority interests on campus.

The administration also should carve out dedicated spaces in the college’s new academic building for each of these six groups, they wrote. When administrators didn’t respond to the demands, the students staged a sit-in April 12.

Later that week, students organized a march around campus and presented administrators with their demands. They want five new counselors for the coming academic year, with three of them being people of color. “When administrators didn’t respond to the demands, the students staged the sit-in April 12.

Maria Klawe, the college president, compromised on some of the student requests at the sit-in. She will provide $1,500 to each of the six minority student groups, a one-time allocation, with the administrators willing to consider more in the future.

Student Ratings Bait Profs Into Lowering Standards

In the fall of 1980,  towards the end of my first semester of college teaching, I received a memo saying that on the last day of class I was to hand out the course evaluation forms for students to complete and return.

A few weeks later, the packet of forms they had filled out was stuffed in my mail box. I read through them and was not surprised to find that most of the students who had done reasonably well had rated the course highly and, naturally, that most of those who had done poorly said it was terrible. Some of the comments from students in the latter group were scathing.

In quite a few instances, I wondered, “How would you know the course was so awful – you hardly ever showed up.”

‘Keep ‘em Happy’

By my second year of teaching, I had decided that the freshman and sophomores I taught had nothing useful to say. The evaluations were just a measure of popularity. I didn’t waste time reading them.

Quite a few years later, when I started doing think-tank work on higher education, one of the first books I came across was Generation X Goes to College by Peter Sacks. In his book, Sacks (who frequently writes for Minding the Campus), discussed his first year of teaching journalism at an unnamed but clearly non-selective college. He wanted to teach an academically strong course and demanded quite a lot of writing from his students, all of which he carefully critiqued.

Then came his first course evaluations. After his superiors had read them, Sacks was called in for a meeting. The chairman was concerned that so many students had given the course very low marks. He let Sacks know that he would not be rehired if his evaluations remained so terrible.

Of course, Sacks took that seriously. The next semester he had to produce far higher evaluations. He did so by resorting to what he called “the sandbox experiment,” which meant making the course easier, more fun, and less critical. That worked. After his second semester, Sacks got far higher ratings from his students and saved his job.

Get That 4.7 Average

The importance of student evaluations has not diminished at all in the almost two decades since Sacks wrote his book. Good evidence to show that is found in Stacey Patton’s piece, “Student Evaluations: Feared, Loathed, and Not Going Anywhere” in the Chronicle of Higher Education. She targets the obsession that grips non-tenured faculty members in a humanities department at a “West Coast research university.” The obsession is with getting at least a 4.7 average on the five-point scale used for course evaluations.

Patton quotes one such professor (who goes by “Janet Wilson,” fearing adverse career repercussions if she used her real name) who says that she and other department members “talk about how to reach 4.7 more than we talk about how to teach.”

There is an abundance of helpful ideas on how to elevate your scores in the article. Here are some of them: bake cookies or brownies for the students, hand out the evaluations when the most irascible student is absent, give the evaluation right after a puff assignment such as “an easy paper where they can talk about themselves,” don’t give students much time to fill out the forms, which increases the likelihood they will just circle all 5s and hurry out, and let students “hand in papers late, retake exams like it’s the DMV, and complete extra credit.”

It’s all sandbox stuff. (I don’t recall that Sacks ever baked goodies for his students; the techniques for buttering up students have no doubt “advanced” since his teaching days.)

Janet Wilson concludes, “We all know we can’t afford to uphold grading standards because of the pressure put on us.”

Exactly, and Patton observes, “Faculty members speak of evaluations’ driving decisions on hiring, promotion, and tenure; adjuncts say they feel paralyzed when a low score can mean a pink slip.”

The Decline and Fall of a College Education

Cookies, si; rigorous grading, no. That’s what American higher education has come to and here is the reason. At many colleges, keeping the students happy is the paramount concern. School officials still pay lip service to academic excellence, but the truth is that revenue maximization is far more important to them.

Happy students are more apt to remain enrolled than are unhappy ones. That’s why faculty members are under pressure to show “good” evaluation numbers, even though that means treating all of the students like little kids.

If most college students were seriously looking for education, they wouldn’t want to be treated that way. If they really wanted to learn to write well, for instance, they wouldn’t object when a professor took a red pen to their drafts and showed them where their writing was poor.

Sadly, few students enter college with a desire to work hard to improve their knowledge and skills. Far more enter college with an entitlement mindset that has them thinking, “I’ve always been told I’m a good student and therefore deserve good grades.” Taking their evaluations seriously only helps to further erode our pitiable academic standards.

Course evaluations might make sense at a level where the students were both dedicated and somewhat knowledgeable about the subject. Professors fortunate enough to teach such students would probably welcome their feedback since it could help them improve the course.  But asking the typical freshman or sophomore to rank a course and comment on it rarely produces any valuable insights. It merely encourages faculty members to worry about their popularity instead of worrying about teaching a sound, challenging course.

It is also worth noting that more than a few dedicated educators who couldn’t stand the “keep ‘em happy” imperative have left teaching. They have been replaced by the brownie bakers, deadline extenders, and extra-credit givers who are content to abase themselves and undermine academic standards for fear of bad evaluations by students who shouldn’t be in college in the first place.