Note to University Officials: Elevate Marketing Above Ideology

Several years ago, when I headed marketing at a major public university, a colleague suggested we needed our own “moonshot” to stem the tide of declining enrollment.  

I took the question seriously, given the catastrophic demographic “cliff” American higher education will soon endure, and then offered up the kind of moonshot I’m sure he didn’t expect. Namely, a national campaign funded by the higher education industry to encourage the growth of families and reverse the baby dearth that has left the U.S. procreating below replacement levels. This was no doubt a long-term strategy, and quite an expensive one at that, but one that might ultimately reverse the systemic decline in what has become an increasingly mature-to-declining industry.  

In an ideologically polarized country, implementing this would be harder than President Kennedy’s actual moonshot more than sixty years ago. Recent data indicate that higher education will peak this year at 3.9 million students before declining more than 13 percent by 2041. Yet, my idea was not taken seriously, thereby spotlighting the challenge one faces in having a serious, forward-looking discussion about higher education marketing.

The enrollment cliff is the most predictable event of the past 20 years in higher education, yet administrators treat it as an unalterable matter of faith. The ideological orthodoxy dominating college campuses frames cataclysmic climate change as a reason not to have children, and reproductive freedom as an absolute, unalloyed good with no downsides. Consequently, many in the professoriate and on senior university staff view family propagation as an assault on Planet Earth rather than a positive propagation of humanity—or a practical way to keep tenured faculty in their jobs for the foreseeable future.

The primacy of ideology over marketing sense also limits the industry’s ability to understand its critics and frame a market-facing response to their concerns. The primary crisis facing higher education—beyond a shrinking base market—is that increasing numbers of Americans do not believe in the value of the product. A Pew Research study revealed that only a quarter of Americans think a four-year degree is extremely important to securing a high-paying job. Half of adults believe a degree is less important than it was twenty years ago.

University leaders acknowledge this “value gap,” but in my experience, they tend to blame everyone else and acquit themselves of any wrongdoing. The company line among university administrators is that people simply fail to understand how valuable higher education is because they are bombarded by detractors and the negative messaging they promote.  For example, one advocacy group I worked with considered the message that “college isn’t for everyone” divisive rather than a self-evident proposition. If higher education cannot constructively engage on the issue of why a high school graduate chooses a trade school or an Amazon fulfillment center over enrollment, it will not expand the number of “users” of its product, key to growth in an era of demographic decline.

Then there is the elephant in the room: an ideological monoculture that actively repels many of the parents who pay the bills. When asked why he avoided political endorsements, NBA superstar Michael Jordan famously quipped, “Republicans buy sneakers, too.” Conservative and politically moderate parents send their children to college, too, and there is evidence that they are deeply alienated by campus over-politicization.

The data confirms this. A Gallup poll found that the proportion of Republicans who consider college “very important” declined from 62 percent in 2013 to only 20 percent last year. All told, Republicans were more than twice as likely to consider college as not that important (39 percent). This same survey showed that the ideological bent of universities is a major factor in perception of value, as 41 percent of those Americans who lack confidence in higher education cited “political agendas” as a major reason.   

There are signs that some universities understand the need to broaden their ideological scope, even if this reassessment is the result of political pressure. Much of this change is being driven by the civics education movement, which seeks to re-instill the principles of civic thought, civil dialogue, and the foundational principles of Western Civilization into higher education pedagogy.  A recent report by the Heterodox Academy identifies 45 civics and classical education centers across 41 public university campuses in 25 states. That’s a good marketing pitch if I’ve ever heard one.

In addition, universities are moving to address the value gap perception, seeking to better link academic programs with career outcomes and demonstrating a return on a family’s investment in their student. One such school is my former employer, Central Michigan University, which, earlier this year, became one of the few universities in the country to offer a guarantee.  More specifically, under the “Central Career Guarantee,” a graduate who does not find employment or acceptance into a graduate program of their choice may be eligible for a $2,000 check from the university, which can be used however the graduate sees fit. 

But these alone will not be enough to reverse the course of continued decline. Higher education professionals must stop preaching to the choir and instead take the time to listen to their congregants. University officials and faculty can have their own ideologies, but they can’t have their own math. To borrow Apple’s famous advertising catch-phrase, they need to “think different,” and to be open to the kind of free thinking they claim to aspire to instill in their students. Doing so is the only way to engage detractors, broaden their thinking, and confront the value gap head-on.  

Harlan Teller is a senior communications and marketing consultant and writer with more than five decades of experience counseling major corporations, including ten years as a senior marketing and communications official at three public universities. He lives in Prescott, Arizona.