Covid-19 Leaves Universities Short On International Students—And Money
Experts on the sector say it will take years for the schools, among the best in the world, to recover from the economic damage.
4 min
SYDNEY—Australia’s decision to close its borders protected it from the coronavirus. But that policy is wreaking havoc on the country’s universities, which relied on lucrative tuition from foreign students who are stuck overseas.
Experts say it will take years for the schools, among the best in the world, to recover from the economic damage. Already, Australian universities have cut more than 17,000 jobs, according to industry group Universities Australia. It said operating revenue fell 4.9% last year and is expected to fall another 5.5% this year.
“As students finish and we haven’t got new ones coming, we’re yet to hit the bottom basically,” said Peter Hurley, a policy fellow at the Mitchell Institute for Education and Health Policy, which forecast that the country’s universities could lose up to $15 billion in international tuition through 2023.
Leaders all over the world have needed to balance protecting their populations from the virus with the economic damage that those policies can cause. But with a vaccine rollout expected to start in Australia soon, pressure is ramping up on conservative Prime Minister Scott Morrison to provide clarity on how and when international students could return.
Leaders in the nation’s states and territories have pressed for some places in the quarantine system to be reserved for international students, but Mr. Morrison has argued that returning Australians must come first. Thousands of Australians remain stranded overseas because the government has imposed caps on returning travelers, part of an effort to ease pressure on its hotel quarantine system and to minimise the risk of highly contagious variants of the coronavirus from spreading into the community.
The matter could be discussed at a cabinet meeting later this week. Any change in policy could signal whether Mr. Morrison is ready to loosen border restrictions with vaccines on the horizon.
Phil Honeywood, chief executive of the International Education Association of Australia, said overseas students are starting to doubt that they will return to Australia this year. He is concerned some students may drop out and go study in other countries like Canada, the U.K. and the U.S.
“The stickability of those students is now in question,” he said.
Ahmed Korayem, a 32-year-old in Egypt, wasn’t sure whether to start a master’s program in compliance and regulation at an Australian university because of the country’s border closures. He worries that studying online wouldn’t be the same as being there in person and that it would be difficult to interact with his professors because of the time difference.
Mr. Korayem has decided to enroll at school, but he said a prolonged period of border closures could force him to drop out later.
“If it’s three months and then I would be able to move and continue my studies face-to-face, I can handle this. If it’s more than that, then I think no,” Mr. Korayem said. “The uncertainty can be stressful.”
Foreign students, particularly from China and India, have been lured to Australia by its relative proximity to Asia, easy access to visas and high-quality schools. Australian universities charged them higher fees than domestic students; international tuition at one point made up more than 40% of student revenue at universities, according to an estimate from the Mitchell Institute.
Although students can study remotely online, international-student enrollments were already down 14% as of November, according to Australian government data. The number of international students physically in the country has fallen further—and is down about 35% when compared with pre-pandemic levels—according to the Mitchell Institute’s Mr. Hurley.
“I don’t think anybody had on their risk scenarios literally no international travel,” said Paul Duldig, chief operating officer at Australian National University in Canberra, the capital. The school estimates its international-student tuition fees fell last year by about 30%.
Aside from cutting staff, universities are delaying campus improvements and eliminating fields of study. Australia’s reputation for producing important academic research is also at stake, given that universities used much of that international tuition to fund scholarly pursuits. About 11% of Australia’s researchers, including postgraduate students and staff, could lose their jobs due to the decline in fees from international students, according to research from the Melbourne Centre for the Study of Higher Education.
To make up for the revenue decline, the Australian government included about $770 million in aid to fund university research in this financial year’s budget. But a long-term solution depends on allowing international students back into the country, according to academics who have studied university finances.
Before the pandemic, Australia was the third top destination for international students, behind the U.S. and the U.K., according to United Nations data. Australian universities were also more reliant on international students than other countries. In 2018, 27% of all students in higher education in Australia were from overseas, according to data from the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, a group of wealthy countries that has 37 members. That was the second highest percentage in the OECD, behind tiny Luxembourg. In the U.S., just 5% were international students.
At Monash University, one of Australia’s top research schools, tuition from international students fell $85 million last year and overall revenue dropped by $270 million, a nearly 5% decline. The school is cutting 277 jobs and eliminating 2% of its courses. It is also shelving or deferring long-term building plans, including a new medical educational center, a biomedical teaching facility and an artificial-intelligence and data-science building.
Margaret Gardner, president and vice chancellor of the university, said having international students on campus enriches the academic experience for domestic students who get exposed to different cultures and viewpoints even if they are going to school close to home.
“It’s not just about plugging a hole,” she said. “I can’t begin to tell you how much difference it makes to the education you provide.”
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Terrible commutes. Expensive child care. Employees explain why they will keep working from home.
4 min
What’s still keeping American workers out of the office?
At a time when restaurants, planes and concert arenas are packed to the rafters, office buildings remain half full. Thinly populated cubicles and hallways are straining downtown economies and, bosses say, fragmenting corporate cultures as workers lose a sense of engagement.
Yet workers say high costs, caregiving duties, long commutes and days still scheduled full of Zooms are keeping them at home at least part of the time, along with a lingering sense that they’re able to do their jobs competently from anywhere. More than a dozen workers interviewed by The Wall Street Journal say they can’t envision returning to a five-day office routine, even if they’re missing career development or winding up on the company layoff list.
Managers say they will renew the push to get employees back into offices later this year. The share of companies planning to keep office attendance voluntary, rather than mandatory, is dropping, according to a survey released in May of more than 200 corporate real-estate executives conducted by property-services firm CBRE, one of the largest managers of U.S. office space.
A battle of wills could be ahead. The gap between what employees and bosses want remains wide, with bosses expecting in-person collaboration and workers loath to forgo flexibility, according to monthly surveys of worker sentiment maintained by Nicholas Bloom, a Stanford University economist who studies remote work.
Escalating expenses
One reason workers say they’re reluctant to return is money. Some who have lost remote-work privileges said they are spending hundreds, or in some cases thousands, of dollars each month on meals, commutes and child care.
One supercommuter who treks to her Manhattan job from her home in Philadelphia negotiated a two-day-a-week limit to her New York office time this year. Otherwise, she said she could easily spend $10,000 a year on Amtrak tickets if she commuted five days a week.
Christos Berger, a 25-year-old mortgage-loan assistant who lives outside Washington, D.C., estimates she spends $2,100 on child care and $450 on gas monthly now that she is working up to three days a week in the office.
Berger and her husband juggled parenting duties when they were fully remote. The cost of office life has her contemplating a big ask: clearance to work from home full time.
“Companies are pushing you to be available at night, be available on weekends,” she said, adding that she feels employers aren’t taking into account parents’ need for family time.
Rachel Cottam, a 31-year-old head of content for a tech company, works full time from her home near Salt Lake City, making the occasional out-of-town trip to headquarters. She used to be a high-school teacher, spending weekdays in the classroom. Back then, she and her husband spent $100 a week on child care and $70 a week on gas. Now they save that money. She even let her car insurance company know she no longer commutes and they knocked $5 a month off the bill.
Friends who have been recalled to offices tell Cottam about the added cost of coffee, lunch and beauty supplies. They also talk about the emotional cost they feel from losing work flexibility.
“For them, it feels like this great ‘future of work’ they’ve been gifted is suddenly ripped away,” she said.
Parent trade-offs
If pandemic-era flexible schedules go away, a huge number of parents will drop out of the workforce, workers say.
When Meghan Skornia, a 36-year-old urban planner and married mother of an 18-month-old son, was looking for a new job last year, she weeded out job openings with strict in-office policies. Were she given such mandates, she said, she would consider becoming an independent consultant.
The firm in Portland, Ore., where Skornia now works requests one day a week in the office, but doesn’t dictate which day. The arrangement lets her spend time with her son and juggle her job duties, she said. “If I were in the office five days a week, I wouldn’t really ever see my son, except for weekends.”
Emotional labor
For some, coming into the office means donning a mask to fit in.
Kenneth Thomas, 42, said he left his investment-firm job in the summer of 2021 when the company insisted that workers return to the office full time. Thomas, who describes himself as a 6-foot-2 Black man, said managing how he was perceived—not slipping into slang or inadvertently appearing threatening through body language—made the office workday exhausting. He said that other professionals of colour have told him they feel similarly isolated at work.
“When I was working from home, it freed up so much of my mental bandwidth,” he said. His current job, treasurer of a green-energy company, allows him to work remotely two or three days a week.
Lost productivity
The longer the commute, the less likely workers are to return to offices.
Ryan Koch, a Berkeley, Calif., resident, went to his San Francisco office two days a week as required late last year, but then he let his attendance slide, because commuting to an office felt pointless. “I’m doing the same video calls that I can be doing at home,” he said.
Koch, who works in sales, said his nonattendance wasn’t noted so long as his numbers were good. When Koch and other colleagues were unable to meet sales quotas in recent weeks, they were laid off. Ignoring the in-office requirement probably didn’t help, he said, adding he hopes to land a new hybrid role where he goes in one or two days.
Jess Goodwin, a 36-year-old media-marketing professional, turned down an offer to go from freelance to full time earlier this year because the role required office time and no change in pay.
Goodwin said a manager “made it really clear that this is what they’re mandating right now and it could change in the future to ‘you have to be back in five days a week.’”
Goodwin, who lives in Brooklyn, N.Y., calculated that subway commutes to Midtown Manhattan would consume more than 150 hours annually, in addition to time spent getting ready for work.
Goodwin’s holding out for a better offer. She said she would consider a hybrid position if it came with a generous package and good commute, adding: “And I would also probably need something in my contract being like, ‘We’re not going to increase the number of days you have to come in.’”
Chris Dixon, a partner who led the charge, says he has a ‘very long-term horizon’
Americans now think they need at least $1.25 million for retirement, a 20% increase from a year ago, according to a survey by Northwestern Mutual
