Year: 2023

One of my earliest memories of growing up as a bilingual child in the Philippines was that my siblings and I felt…well, rather special. The fact that from the age of two or three we could rattle off in French amongst ourselves, then within seconds and without a moment’s hesitation switch to English when addressing our relatives or friends around us, always seemed to enthral and impress some people. It was at times annoying though. Occasionally, my mother’s friends, who found it irresistibly cute that we could speak French, would squeeze our cheeks in delight and beg us to say something in French (anything!) even if they couldn’t understand a word we said.

People would frequently make a fuss. But despite the unwanted attention, we knew that not everyone around us could speak two languages fluently. Later on, when as a family we went to live in the French countryside for a few years, all my French classmates knew that my sister and I were the only ones who could speak English fluently, and because of this, we felt just a tad more unique. Nevertheless, during the early years of our childhood, being bilingual felt more like we had a cool party trick up our sleeve, rather than a useful and advantageous skill. It was only years later, as we started growing up, that we realised what a wonderful gift our parents had given us by striving to bring us up as bilingual and, eventually, multilingual children.

My Filipina mother, who spoke French fluently after studying at the Alliance Française in Manila and later on at the Sorbonne University in Paris, only met my French/Swiss expatriate father once she returned home to her native Manila. From the earliest years of their marriage, they decided that we would grow up to be at least bilingual in French and English, and ideally proficient in Tagalog (the other official language of the Philippines in addition to English). Thus, they proceeded to make French the main language of the family at home, and enrolled us in an English kindergarten in Manila to begin with.

As I grew up, I continued my schooling in France and, upon returning to the Philippines, first at the French School and later at the International School in Manila. I found it quite easy to pick up Spanish as an additional subject, because of its similarities to French and Tagalog. Subsequently, I went on to study Japanese at my university in Tokyo, and this opened up more doors for me throughout my career – including getting a dream job at Nike’s world headquarters in the United States. There, I picked up my sixth language, Portuguese, thanks to the work I did for Nike in Brazil. To this day, I credit my parents’ foresight and efforts in giving me this priceless gift of languages, which has granted me countless opportunities in my personal and professional life.

Today, as I contemplate raising my own multiracial children in multicultural Singapore, I am acutely aware that being bilingual or multilingual is becoming an increasingly widespread social phenomenon, governed by the trends of globalisation, immigration and the rapid rise of cross-cultural marriages. It is however interesting to observe that, historically, language exposure as a result of migration, conquest, colonisation and even slavery has created a multitude of sociolinguistic environments in which individuals have been exposed to other languages, besides their own mother tongue. In fact, the reality of today’s present world is that across most continents, multilingual speakers continue to outnumber monolinguals, making multilingualism the norm and monolingualism the exception.

Consequently, there was never a doubt in my mind that my own children would grow up speaking at least two languages, as I did.

I was determined to ensure that I would give them that advantage early on, no matter what. As I spent considerable time and energy researching and reading up on the subject of bilingualism and multilingualism, I came across a surprising controversy about whether growing up bilingual is an advantage or a disadvantage. The theory is that growing up bilingual is beneficial to a child’s development and cognitive skills, but many have come to question the idea because they believe that bilingual children end up without complete fluency in any language. Despite the historical facts pointing to the contrary, there have even been voices in the past claiming that raising bilingual children is something unnatural.

Nowadays, most linguists agree that these kinds of theories and myths are completely unfounded. In 1962, Elizabeth Peal and Wallace Lambert conducted one of the first studies of bilingualism in ten-year-old children from six schools in Montreal, Canada. Their study confirmed the positive influence of bilingualism. The results showed that ten-year-old bilinguals (French/English) performed far better on intellectual analytical tests than did monolinguals.

Since then, numerous studies on language development have corroborated these findings and demonstrated that being bilingual not only enhances our ability to understand and analyse concepts, but also increases our access to multiple perspectives in a multicultural society. Furthermore, growing up bilingual is not only the easiest way to learn a language, as it was for my siblings and me, but it also makes learning other languages much easier. The differences in sounds, word order, rhythm, intonation and grammatical construction in a new language are much easier to learn if you already speak a couple of languages. Indeed, bilingualism has been proven to help children develop overall better analytical and academic skills, than their monolingual peers.

Knowing more than one language facilitates a natural flexibility and adaptability, and boosts self-esteem and self-confidence, while increasing the appreciation and acceptance of other cultural differences. And when it comes to career prospects in most parts of the globe, as I found out myself, knowing more than one language has been established as an excellent way to increase your chances.

Furthermore, research conducted by a group in Concordia University in 2019 found growing evidence to suggest that bilingualism provides cognitive benefits such as better inhibitory control, and that it can be a protective factor against the onset of Alzheimer’s disease. Numerous studies have found that the onset of Alzheimer’s disease is delayed by 4-5 years in bilingual patients when compared to monolingual patients regardless of sex, lifestyle, education and occupation.

This being said, there are unfortunately still many people who could have grown up bilingual, but regretfully did not, because of the choices their own parents made to focus on a single language. Many immigrants, for instance, make a conscious effort to fit into their new country, and as a result prefer to concentrate on the language of the home nation at the expense of their native tongue. While these motivations are completely understandable, many children regret their parents’ decision in the long term. Besides having their child miss out on the great advantages of growing up bilingual, parents who don’t stimulate the learning of their own mother tongue are ensuring that their children lose a valuable cultural heritage and an important connection to their own roots.

Ultimately, the pros of being bilingual vastly outnumber the cons. And there are basically only four potential drawbacks to growing up bilingual, which are not even applicable in every case. They are: starting to speak later, mixing languages, the additional effort for the parents and the different levels of fluency in both languages (reading & writing vs only speaking, for instance). While it has been said that bilingual children, in some cases, begin speaking later (sometimes three to six months later) because they are learning two language systems at the same time, it is a small price to pay for the ability to grow up bilingual.

Mixing words is usually a temporary phenomenon, which tends to diminish by the age of four or five, or when vocabulary in each language augments. It is also true that raising a bilingual child is a big commitment and a long-term investment. It requires extra effort from the parents to ensure the right amount of language exposure and discipline to keep language rules consistent. But parents of bilingual children agree overwhelmingly that the benefits for their children are well worth the effort.

Lastly, reading and writing in two languages adds to the academic workload especially if the aim is complete fluency in both languages. It helps if the alphabet is the same, but often this is not the case, such as in Chinese and German for example. As a result, fluency in both languages actually hinges on many factors and varies depending on the individual’s own ability, commitment and, of course, on the chosen language’s degree of difficulty. And while it is possible for some individuals to be completely and equally fluent in two languages (speaking, reading and writing), it is not uncommon for some bilingual people to feel more comfortable writing or reading in one language rather than in the other.

Nevertheless, despite these numerous challenges, there is no doubt that multilingual children enjoy more advantages in their life as a result. My own four children are extremely fortunate to be growing up in multicultural Singapore, speaking French and English fluently. They are conversational in basic Tagalog, which we speak every day with our Filipina nanny at home. Spanish has spiked their curiosity too, as they are keenly aware of my many Spanish-speaking expatriate friends. And they chuckle and pride themselves about the fact they can already understand a little Spanish and Malay, because of the similarities with Tagalog (which is a blend of Malay and Spanish).

Additionally, my children have been studying Chinese for many years, while first attending the Lycée Français of Singapore in their primary school years, and then middle school and high school at the United World College of South East Asia (UWCSEA), one of the most diverse and culturally rich schools in the world. Even if they sometimes complain to me about how hard it is to learn Chinese, I remind them that one day, they will realise how privileged they all are to be exposed to such an important and valuable language. I promise them, as my parents promised me, that their hard work and efforts will give them an added advantage in life when it comes to both career and personal opportunities.

Bringing up bilingual or multilingual children takes some effort and determination, but the benefits vastly outweigh the difficulties and leads to cognitive benefits that will last their entire life. Learning a new language is not simply an additional practical skill, it offers a completely different vision and perspective of the world. While it opens up a whole new cultural appreciation, it sharpens our intellect and keeps our brain alert.

Speaking more than one language strengthens leadership skills by broadening the way people communicate, how they are perceived by their audience and how they connect with their own multilingual and multicultural teams. It has certainly helped me become a much more inclusive and empathetic leader, particularly given the diversity of my colleagues and teammates. And while attaining and maintaining fluency in any language takes tremendous commitment and discipline, in the end, couldn’t bilingualism – or multilingualism – be one of the greatest gifts you could offer your own children?

This article was from the QS Insights Magazine, Issue 2. Read the full edition. 

The education sector is no stranger to policy reviews. The process can be as promising as it is daunting for those involved, and stakeholders working in education are often keen to ensure their voices are heard. Dr Ant Bagshaw unpacks the Australian Universities Accord, announced in November last year, and explores what past reviews from around the world might tell us to expect.

This year, the Australian higher education sector is excited. In part, that excitement comes from an open border and international students returning in large numbers. The disruption of the COVID pandemic is in the rear-view mirror, and there is a lot of talk of micro-credentials and new ways in which universities can address the country’s pressing skills gaps. But, more than any of that, the sector is talking about the University Accord process. The excitement is not without merit.

Reviews of higher education systems are a regular occurrence in many jurisdictions. Australia has fond memories of the 2008 Bradley Review, the last time policymakers had a hard look at higher education. In the UK, the Robbins Review of 1963 established the principles which shaped the development of the sector for the rest of the twentieth century. More recently in England, reviews by Dearing in 1997 and Browne in 2010, are known for their impact on undergraduate tuition fees though both had wider remits. More recently, Wales’ Diamond Review in 2016 made significant changes to student support in the principality.

For the current Australian review process, the Labor Government, which won the Federal election in 2022, has established an expert panel led by a former vice-chancellor, Professor Mary O’Kane. Naming it an accord rather than review, inquiry or commission, reflects a history of industry-wide agreements, particularly between employers and trade unions. It’s a term which has resonance for the Labour party and creates an expectation of collaboration between multiple interested parties.

The terms of reference are wide, with seven areas of focus:

1.Meeting Australia’s knowledge and skills needs, now and in the future
2.Access and opportunity
3.Investment and affordability
4.Governance, accountability and community
5.The connection between the vocational education and training and higher education systems
6.Quality and sustainability
7.Delivering new knowledge, innovation and capability.

That’s a lot to do, and the review panel made up of eminent names from within higher education and industry only has a year in which to do it.

Inevitably, the broad terms of reference for the Universities Accord have a lot of people excited about the scope of potential change in the sector. With this remit, radical changes could be made to the way Australian higher education is funded, organised and regulated. Many commentators have already submitted lengthy analysis and evidence to the panel in the hope of shaping the review’s conclusions.

I’m cautious about whether there will be radical change. The sector is mostly in good health with large, well-funded universities producing employable graduates and enabling the country to punch above its weight in research. Secondly, there needs to be significant political will to make change for the sector, a prospect that seems unlikely in the context of more pressing demands on parliamentary time like fixing the economy, saving us from climate disaster, reforming the Constitution or addressing the infrastructure needs.

In education and industry policy, it’s the skills agenda – vocational education and training – and lifelong learning which are likely to receive more attention from this government. In part, this is due to these topics speaking more to a traditional Labor base. There is also much more to fix here with fragmented and inadequate funding, misalignment to industry needs and a deficit from a history of neglect from policymakers.

With so much else to do, finding the political space to make policy changes for higher education seems unlikely. For me, the interesting part is how the sector engages with the review process and the opportunity it affords for renewing, or reshaping, our understanding of the purposes and benefits of higher education.

What’s the point in reviews?

Major reviews of areas of public policy happen often. They offer politicians ways of developing ideas and proposals for reform through deep engagement with experts like the people chosen for the Accord’s review panel. Through consultation exercises, calls for evidence, visits and research, these review processes gather large volumes of information, evaluate and synthesise it into priorities and make recommendations which politicians can then adopt, or not. The review process can be particularly useful for addressing complex problems, and in areas where the solutions may not be immediately obvious. Reviews are useful when there is a sense that ‘something should be done’, but not exactly what that something is.

Reviews in higher education are particularly useful tools because of the way the sector is structured. In Australia, and in other countries including New Zealand and the UK, universities operate in a quasi-autonomous, highly regulated system. They are generally established by the government, either at a national or state level. They receive a mix of funding directly from government, indirectly via loans made to students, and through income from students themselves such as accommodation fees or tuition from international students.

The autonomy of institutions means that governments have more limited levers to effect change than in the schools system or another more centrally controlled area. This is why consultation with the sector is an important tool for socialising policy ideas and ensuring that the recommendations of the review lay out a case for change.

Politicians can also try to hand over difficult decisions to a review process. The level of tuition fees for domestic undergraduates is a contentious topic: it affects a lot of people and has the potential to be a political minefield. Just ask Nick Clegg. Prior to the May 2010 general election in the UK, candidates from the Liberal Democrats signed pledges not to raise the level of tuition fees. When the Browne Review came out six months later in November, the government’s policy was to raise the headline fee three-fold. By this point, Clegg, as leader of the Liberal Democrats was Deputy Prime Minister in a coalition with the Conservatives, felt compelled to support the fee increase. Many people remember this as a betrayal and it was one of the reasons the Liberal Democrats were all but wiped out at the following election. The review can take some of the heat but the decisions rest with politicians.

In the case of the Universities Accord, the rationale for its establishment is that there is a set of issues facing the sector which need to be addressed. One of these issues is tuition rates, on which a lot of attention has focused, but there are also matters like equitable access to higher education which has barely improved in a decade. While successful as a whole, the Australian higher education sector isn’t serving all communities equally and there are big gulfs in participation between regional and metropolitan areas.

By establishing a review process, the Minister is using a mechanism for explore the interconnection of issues of funding and fair access alongside research and community engagement. It’s from this exploration that we can – possibly – have coordinated and coherent policy responses.

What can Albanese learn from May?

When Theresa May became UK Prime Minister in 2016, she made a key plank of her policy agenda creating a fairer society. In this spirit, she established a major review of tertiary funding in early 2017 with a panel chaired by Philip Augar, who had spent the majority of his career in financial services. This review, which looked across the whole post-18 education landscape, aimed to explore the choices available to students, value for money and access to education as well as ensure adequate skills provision. Augar and his panel of academics and business leaders provided their Review of Post-18 Education and Funding, known as the Augar Review, in 2019 but its conclusions were not implemented.

Even the casual follower of British politics will know that it’s been a tough few years. The Brexit vote in 2016 caused massive disruption socially and economically, and it also gummed up the workings of parliament. General elections, supposed to be every five years, took place in 2015, 2017 and 2019. May left office in 2019 and has since been succeeded by Boris Johnson, Liz Truss and Rishi Sunak. In the same period, six ministers held responsibility for higher education. With turnover of leaders and chaos in parliament, there has been no time or inclination for reform.

England’s higher education system performs well by international standards. But there are serious issues which need to be addressed: real terms funding per student has dropped significantly, student debt is an increasingly problematic part of the national accounts, staff are dissatisfied leading to widespread industrial action, and the sector needs to invest in digital education, mental health support, and further extending access to underserved communities. The Augar report may not have solved all of these concerns, but its consideration would have provided space for genuine political choices rather than a muddling along of an increasingly creaking system.

Australia’s political system is in more robust health and Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has the spring in his step of a leader whose party has returned to power after nearly a decade in opposition. The economy is in better shape than the UK’s, and the higher education sector is starting in a better place than England’s. But for observers of the policymaking process, the Augar report is illustrative of the potential gap between the ambitions and excitement at the start of a process and the inaction at the end of it. Albanese won’t see himself going the way of May, but the sector should be wary of overinvesting in what the Accord can do.

Where’s the value in the Accord?

If we temper our ambitions for the review process leading to major change in the sector, is there still value in the process? I think that it’s an essential task to engage, and to maintain the optimism that there might be change if also being realistic that it’s not guaranteed. Here’s my advice for making the most of this year of the Accord:

1. Assume that there’s no extra money. It’s tempting to look at a review process and to imagine what could change for the higher education sector from additional investment. There isn’t going to be any more money for the sector. This isn’t because the sector isn’t valuable or important, or even that there isn’t a good case for investment. There won’t be extra money because of the macro conditions, because of paying off the borrowing in the pandemic years and focusing extra dollars on sectors which need the money more urgently. In this context, ideas for the Accord need to offer savings, be cost neutral, or very cheap. Ideas for reforming or reorganising the sector to be more efficient are likely to be welcomed by policymakers.
2. Share your proposals publicly. Teams in universities and other organisations have been working on their documentation for the Accord, and many have shared their responses. But there is more that can be done to communicate about the themes and issues raised and actively with stakeholders not just published on websites. I’d love to see universities engaging students and staff in the conversation about what’s important to them about the future of higher education, and promoting dialogue with communities around the valuable role that institutions play. If we see the traffic as two-way between institutions and the Accord, we miss the opportunity for the rich dialogue with others who matter.
3. Ensure that marginal ideas are raised. There are well-funded and well-organised lobby groups in the higher education sector which have had a lot of time to hone their skills in policy influence. They will be coordinated in their approach to the Accord and will make compelling arguments. It’s vital that other voices are heard too, and that there is opportunity to explore ideas from different angles. It may be that the lobby groups are right, but their role is to speak for part of the sector not the whole. This is why it’s important for more voices to engage in the process, to offer solutions, and not just leave it to vested interests.

The Accord process will run its course but there is an opportunity to do more, to add more value to the activity by using the structure of the review to support a dialogue about the place of higher education in society. I have many conversations which surface a concern about universities’ social licence to operate. The sector shouldn’t wait for the outcomes of a review which may or may not have any impact. It is incumbent on leaders across the sector to use the process as a means to broader ends.

The year of the Accord

This year, the Australian higher education sector has a timely opportunity for reflection and exploration. The Universities Accord process does not currently face the same challenges as the Augar report, although time will tell if Australia faces similar political upheaval. Nonetheless, it will still take a lot of stars to align to manifest political appetite for major change. The Australian sector has few outlets for public debate on the state of higher education. It’s also a small sector in which a few loud voices are prominent. There is also so much to be positive about in Australian higher education.

There needs to be improvement; show me a system that doesn’t have issues. Australia should be proud of its universities and celebrate their successes. This year can be one of ideas exploration, of creativity in the solutions which can make the sector better without costing more, and of a rich dialogue within and beyond universities about why they exist and the good they do for society.

This article was from the QS Insights Magazine, Issue 1. Read the full edition.