It’s a time of experimentation in higher education. That’s a tell that something is wrong.
As your high school science teacher drilled, the first step in the scientific method is noticing a problem. In this case: Why are college-bound students, despite increasing high-school GPAs — and a record-high graduation rate — less prepared for college-level coursework than ever before?
Among first-semester Calculus I students at the University of California, Berkeley, a third displayed “severe preparation deficits” between 2020–23. In franker speak, one in three high school students in that period didn’t graduate with high-school level skills. That trend continues. And so, in July, over 2,300 STEM faculty in the UC system signed a letter asking that the university reinstate SAT/ACT score requirements for STEM-focused applicants.
The second step is offering a hypothesis: Something is not working in K–12 education.
State legislatures connect declining learning outcomes with the ubiquity of phones: 26, including Indiana’s, have banned the use of phones during the academic day. And why not? Over the last decade, dwindling test scores have coincided with the proliferation of smart phones among Americans. But the link is, at best, dubious.
Besides student well-being — a wonderfully vague term — researchers at Stanford University, studying data of 43,000 schools, did not find increased test scores, or many other benefits of phone-free schooling.
Surely, a broader range of factors contribute to the present crisis in learning, not reduceable to a single, conveniently visible scapegoat. It can't help that parents do too little to hold their kids academically accountable, at least according to teachers. But it also can’t help that two-thirds of teens get distracted by digital devices during the school day. Distracted students, presumably, perform worse on tests.
Basing policy on common sentiment — vibes, if you like — that contradicts critical research probably worsens problems more often than not. See tariffs, for example. Vibes might tell us that American manufacturing is suffering and needs the strong arm of the government to protect it. Economic data, however, shows that heavy industry in the United States is more productive, and stronger, than ever. Meanwhile, tariffs wreak pocketbook havoc.
But something is wrong in K–12 education, and that dysfunction creeps into higher education every time a high school senior graduates. So, universities must try something. Much like their students, some are experimenting in 1960s-style free-spiritism:
At the University of Michigan, the College of Literature, Science and Arts will hide first-semester grades from transcripts beginning in fall 2027, with the goal of “allow(ing) intrinsic motivations to guide personally meaningful academic journeys.”
When second semester comes, Michigan surmises, un-ready college students whose incentives to become ready have been stripped, will, through “intrinsic motivation,” be suddenly transformed into ready students. Michigan offers no suggestion as to where that intrinsic motivation will arise from.
Because Michigan's experiment is doubtful to pan out, universities might as well try solutions a tad more conservative — more rule-bound, rigid "1950s-style."
In the same timeframe as Michigan, the College of the University of Chicago will ban the use of technology in certain general education classes. Chicago supposes that increasing, not lowering, expectations will profit students' study ethic.
A simple test as to which of these experiments will prove more beneficial is to ask which the unmotivated student would prefer? Obviously, the hidden grade policy. After determining that, opt for the other experiment. Expecting more of students — to participate more fully in class — through extrinsic pushes like technology bans is a better bet.
There is still time for the College of Arts and Sciences at Indiana University to adopt such a policy ahead of the 2027 academic year. The college should stand behind professors who already restrict the usage of screens in their courses and encourage others to do so as well, especially in first- and second-year classes where screens are not integral to the subject.
Admittedly, technology is good. If Ned Ludd had had his druthers, the world would be worse off. Technology increases productivity while diminishing the human toil required. It’s useful at making more things more easily and, on a collective scale, is the reason why many can delay entry into the workforce, say, four years to obtain a bachelor’s degree.
But exactly the effortlessness that technology offers is counterproductive when the goal is not output but resistance — mental or physical. Arguments that technology in the classroom is necessary to prepare students for the technology they’ll encounter in the workforce amount to arguments against hitting the gym in a world where forklifts instead of manpower move boxes in warehouses. Of course, the latter argument is absurd. Outsourcing manpower enfeebles muscle; outsourcing brainpower erodes gray cells.
In my last column, I predicted a smaller future for higher education. Not only are there fewer students because of declining birth rates. The economic depreciation of college degrees means of these fewer students, fewer will choose college. As a result, many institutions of higher education will be shutting their doors over the next decades.
Academia's smaller future could resemble their equally small past, where it was a place of leisure rather than a license to work. In such a future, where academic pursuits are increasingly sought for their own sake, the students who choose college will likely want something different than high school, something challenging, which will engage them in intellectually strenuous activities.
Universities can prepare for this future now by following the example that Chicago’s College has set.
Eric Cannon (he/him) is a junior studying philosophy and political science and currently serves as a member of IU Student Government. Never miss his columns or other opinionated musings on X.
