The Dorm Key Ritual
by Gary North, March 7, 2003
Over a decade ago, I gave a presentation to a
conference of conservative college students. I told them
this:
“When the person at the front desk of a college
dormitory building hands an incoming freshman the
dorm room key, the parents’ authority over the
student symbolically and operationally ends.”
There are three important symbolic events in this
life: birth, marriage, and death. There are three rituals
that match these events in Christianity: baptism, wedding,
and funeral. In some Christian traditions, confirmation is
a fourth. Jews have circumcision, bar mitzvah, wedding,
and funeral.
All groups today face a new ritual: the ritual of the
dorm key.
The Ritual of the dorm key
For a majority of educated American Christians, the
ritual of the dorm key has replaced confirmation as the
more significant rite of passage. It takes place
definitively only once, and every parent of a college
freshman senses the finality of this rite when it takes
place, or soon after. With the steady increase in the
divorce rate, the ritual of the dorm key, which happens as
a rite of passage only once, has replaced the ritual of the
wedding, which may happen more than once.
A parent may go through a few additional motions, such
as helping the student with luggage, a computer, and the
stereo, but then the final moment of passage takes place.
The student, key in hand or pocket, says goodbye, and the
parent walks down the hall toward the parking lot.
The parent may briefly notice that the person in the
room right across the hall is not of the same sex as the
child who has just been left behind. But he shrugs,
swallows hard, and keeps moving, eyes straight ahead.
Mixed dorm halls had not appeared in my antediluvian
era. But in the college days of today’s parents, this
arrangement had begun. What goes around comes around. The
ritual that not so long ago provided a sense of liberation
in the departing parent now provides a sense of foreboding.
From this event on, a parent has virtually nothing to
say about the student’s collegiate experience, other than
writing the checks.
There will be many, many checks to write, all large.
If you are like the vast majority of American parents of
college-eligible children, you’re going to write them.
We hear about peer pressure on teenagers. Kids’
stuff! Such pressure doesn’t rival the pressure of this
comment:
“I hear that your kid got accepted at [XYZ]
University. That’s great.”
How many parents reply along these lines?
“I’m not going to contribute one dime to send my
child into that moral cesspool. That place is a
recruiting ground for atheists, feminists,
Marxists, and envy-driven anti-capitalists. I
refuse to put child under their authority. That
place is a meat-grinder.”
The number of these parents is not legion. They constitute
a remnant.
If you, as a parent, do not see this coming at least a
decade before the day of reckoning arrives, then you have
been living in fantasyland. You may be suffering from SAD:
“Selective Alzheimer’s Disease.”
If you know this day will come sometime in the next
two years, you had better develop a plan of action to delay
it or even avoid it altogether.
There are a lot of things you can do. The problem is,
most parents don’t perceive the existence of these highly
practical options, and among the few parents who do, most
do not have the strength to persuade their college-bound
children to implement any of them. The peer pressure is
just too great. I don’t mean peer pressure on the
students. I mean the peer pressure on the parents.
[If you’re a grandparent, your have watched your
children go through this rite of passage. Your
children haven’t overseen it. They deserve to be
reminded. Remind them. Forward this report.]
A $140,000 crap-shoot
Let’s talk about the risk-reward ratio of an
investment in your child’s college education. The risk is
high. You have no assurance that your child will graduate. Half of those who begin college don’t finish.
Not-quite-a-bachelor’s degree is worth approximately
zero. A student’s time would far better have been spent as
an apprentice to a plumber, or as a heating-cooling system
technician. Failing to finish college is an economic risk.
Let’s go through the numbers. Here is the worst-case
scenario from a parent’s point of view. You probably won’t
have to go through these particular numbers. Let’s call
these numbers “Ivy League numbers.” Tuition: $25,000 this
year, which will probably rise 5% to 7% per year. Room and
board: another $8,000 a year and rising. Books: $1,500 a
year. Transportation? Your guess. New clothes for your
daughter: your guess. You will be on the hook for at least
$35,000 a year, except that costs will rise at least 5%
every year. Count on it.
“Maybe there will be a scholarship.” No, there won’t
be. There are no scholarships, except for super-brilliant
students and gifted athletes. The collegiate marketing
tools that are called “scholarships” are in fact a legal
form of what economists call price discrimination.
The “scholarship” committee estimates how much money the
school can probably get you to fork over, given your level
of income, and then it lowers the fee schedule to whatever
level that the committee thinks you will be willing to pay.
If you’re rich, you will pay 100%. Sucker!
This form of discriminatory pricing is a highly
sophisticated competition among Ivy League schools to
recruit very bright students who will become either famous
(the production of prestigious alumni, which is a marketing
strategy) or rich (the market for future donations). It’s
an investment in the future: the college’s future, not
yours.
You can easily spend $140,000 after taxes in tuition,
room, board, and books (TRBB). Your child can give up four
years of his life to earn a degree at an Ivy League
university, assuming that his college board scores are high
enough and his high school grades were all A’s, and he
speaks Mandarin Chinese. You may think I’m joking. I’m
not. Straight A’s and a 1600 score on the SAT’s won’t
necessarily get a student into Harvard. He or she also
needs extracurricular activities or the correct genetic
background (which includes being the white son of a Harvard
multimillionaire alumnus).
Let’s say that the total bill is $140,000. I come
along and say, “I can get you almost the same product for
about $7,000, but not from an Ivy League school.” You turn
me down. Your Jenny Sue has just been accepted at
Princeton, and you’re going to pay the tab. I ask, “Will
Jenny Sue earn 20 times more money just because she is a
Princeton graduate?” “This isn’t about money!” you insist.
The day a parent says, “This isn’t about money,” the
family’s net worth is about to suffer a substantial
decline.
This leads me to North’s law of collegiate financing:
“A proud parent and his money are soon parted.”
That’s why, when I speak of “your child,” this applies
equally well to your grandchild. Every dime that your
children spend on their children’s college educations is a
drain on your family’s inter-generational capital.
Market Strategy #2
An acquaintance of mine is a direct-mail marketing
genius. I know maybe six people who may be as good as he
is in selling things through direct mail. One of them is
his wife.
I was at a Jay Abraham conference a few years ago. I
was sitting alone with Mr. X, and off the top of his head,
he gave me one of the most profound insights into marketing
strategies that I have ever heard. I’ll share it with you.
There are two ways to sell things. The first is
well known. “At this rock-bottom price, supplies
are running low! Act now!” But there is a less
well-known approach. It’s the Ivy League’s
strategy. “We really don’t want you. We really
don’t need you. But, under certain limited
circumstances, we might just let your child
attend here. But don’t count on it.” Parents
can’t get their checkbooks out fast enough. They
beg to have the opportunity to write large
checks.
The Ivy League universities’ approach rests on the
public’s perception of high walls to match their ivy-
covered halls. They are selling exclusivity. Their
marketing strategy has been perfected ever since Harvard
opened in 1636. They have fine-tuned it. Their freshman
classes are oversubscribed by ten to one, yet most high
school seniors don’t even bother to apply. They know they
can’t get in.
Most colleges cannot pull off marketing strategy #2.
They don’t have the aura of exclusivity. They will enroll
any student with a warm body and a blank check. But they
also can’t use the “Act now!” strategy. This is because of
the oligopolistic system known as academic accreditation.
Later in this report, I will be more specific about how
this system works, but trust me: accreditation is the key
to high costs, the restricted entry of new competitors, and
low value for parents’ money.
If you play the collegiate game by the official rules,
you and your money will soon be parted.
The good news is this: there are unofficial rules. If
you know what they are, and if you can persuade your child
to follow them, your child’s college education won’t cost
you an arm and a leg. It will cost you only a rib or two.
A Sucker’s Game
Here is the dirty little secret of the academic
degree-awarding industry known as higher education:
A college degree is way overpriced. Students
(parents) pay way too much money. Students spend way too
much time in class — time that is far better spent in
reading and writing. Then they pay room and board on top
of it.
Paying for a child’s college education is the largest
single expense that parents face, other than buying a
house. But buying a house is done over decades. A college
education must be paid for in four or five years. Loans
are available, but they must be paid off even if the
student quits or flunks out, unlike buying a house. Also,
a house may appreciate in value. It rarely falls in value.
In contrast, there is no re-sale market for receipts for
college expenses.
What I’m going to discuss here, very few people know
about. If I had not spent so much time inside academia, I
probably would not have found out, either.
I know how the American academic system works. I was
trained as a scholar. In 1972, I was awarded a doctoral
degree by one of America’s better universities. I have
written 43 books. I have taught at the college level.
I’m outside the academic system, and I have been for
most of my post-doctoral career. I know enough about how
the system works not to be overly impressed with it. I
also know how to beat the system. The system is rigged
against upper-middle-class parents.
Rolling the Dice for $11,000 a Year
The average college bill per year at a tax-funded
university is about $11,000 a year. This is where most
students attend.
About 15 million Americans are attending college
today. About half pay their own way. The other half are
supported by their parents. Fewer than half of all
students who enroll in college graduate with a bachelor’s
degree.
So, it’s a very big gamble to invest time and money in
trying to earn a degree. The odds are against you. Your
goal ought to be to reduce these odds. You can do this by
taking advantage of loopholes.
Every system has loopholes. Loopholes are official
exceptions that are mandatory for any system to be
consistent with its official standards, but which would
threaten its economic survival if more than a small
minority of users took advantage of these loopholes.
Higher education is no exception.
Here is my view: there is no good reason for people
not to use them when they’re available. They are made to
be used. You might as well be the person who uses them.
Paying retail is not necessary. If a person knows
where to look, he can earn a fully accredited bachelor’s
degree that is not overpriced: not in money charged, not in
time invested (if he can meet certain life-experience
requirements), and not in distance travelled. He can earn
it at his desk for under $7,000. In under three years.
Because of the World Wide Web, a student never has to
leave his desk to earn a B.A., except to take monitored
exams at the local library.
The Web has changed just about everything. But it’s
only one option. There are others. There are many ways to
skin the academic cat.
Beating the System
You can send a child to a distant campus, either tax-
funded ($44,000 TRBB) or private ($80,000 TRBB). Or you
can let him live at home, work part-time to fund his own
education, and spend as little as $7,000 over 2.7 years.
I know of a case of a home-schooled student who earned
a college degree in six months for $5,000. This was not
some phony diploma issued by an unaccredited diploma mill.
It was a degree from a state university. He never left
home to attend. He did not even live in the same state.
How was this possible? Because there are a few
accredited colleges that grant people academic credit for
their education-related work experience, and even life
experience, meaning unsalaried work. I call these “merit
badge courses.” If a student can show that he has the
knowledge equivalent to a college class, he doesn’t have to
take the class. He just has to pay for it — sometimes at
a big discount. Some students can knock a full year off of
their course requirements this way.
This option makes sense educationally. What we learn
on the job sticks with us. Our work teaches us in the
broadest sense. Why shouldn’t adults receive formal
educational credit for knowledge they have mastered — not
just learned in a classroom, but truly mastered — on the
job?
Only a few accredited colleges grant academic credit
for work experience and life experience. Some that offer
this don’t publicize it. They can’t afford to.
Advertising is expensive. So, the story doesn’t get out.
That’s why so few Americans know of this opportunity.
A degree from Harvard, Yale, or Princeton will have a
lot more prestige than one from any of these colleges. But
will that Ivy League degree get its holder a job that pays
20 times more (after taxes) than a degree from a college
that costs 20 times less? Not likely.
College expenses for most students are high because
colleges are inherently inefficient. That’s because the
original model was invented eight centuries ago, when there
were only six or seven colleges in Europe, and the printing
press had not been invented. A library of a thousand hand-
copied manuscripts was worth a fortune. Young men had to
journey long distances to earn a college degree, back when
travel was expensive. Not many people could afford to do
this.
Colleges adopted the lecture method because students
back then could not afford to buy books. Lectures are
highly inefficient ways to teach. Consider how you learn
anything that’s important. You don’t do it sitting in a
lecture hall, except maybe for a brief introduction, and
even that could be put on videotape. You probably don’t
read a textbook. You learn from a manual. Then you learn
on the job, preferably under the immediate guidance of
someone who does the job already.
Why would anyone choose to sit in a classroom for 50
minutes, three times a week per course, five courses per
semester, for 16 weeks per semester? No business teaches
its employees this way. Yet colleges teach mainly this
way. It doesn’t make sense . . . from the student’s point
of view. It makes a lot of sense from the teachers’ point
of view — teachers who may lecture only 6 times a week,
and rarely more than 12.
Today, there are local public libraries (which became
widespread less than a century ago), academic paperback
books (introduced about 50 years ago), videotapes
(introduced widely only in 1978), CD-ROM’s (1991), and the
Internet (which really got rolling in 1995). But, despite
all this technology, traditions die hard in academia. It
costs college students (or their parents) a lot of money to
keep these traditions alive.
A student can read a book at home or at a local city
library. He can write a term paper at home or in the
library. He can take an exam at the city library, with a
librarian as a proctor to make sure he doesn’t cheat. He
doesn’t need to attend college. But most colleges require
students to attend classes on campus. Why? Not for the
students’ sake.
Paying for what you don’t need
The vast majority of colleges require students to
attend classes on campus. This requirement has nothing to
do with the way that most students learn new academic
material. It has everything to do with paying off
mortgages on the college’s expensive buildings. It has
everything to do with shelving $100 million worth of books
in a $50 million library building, with a full-time staff,
so that faculty members can write term papers for each
other that almost nobody will ever actually read. This is
called “publish or perish.”
Unless a student wants to major in physics, chemistry,
or engineering, any college should be able to teach him
whatever he needs to know through the Internet. This
education should not cost more than $2,000 per year for
four years. And that is with no government subsidy.
Even today, with very little competition among the
colleges, it need not cost more than $1,750 a year if you
know where to look. But you have to look very carefully.
So, why does it usually cost so much more? Because
the colleges want it this way.
Only a handful of colleges have adopted 100% Internet-
based B.A. degree programs. The instructors employed by a
100% Internet-based college would have to work a lot harder
than they do now. They would have to grade a lot more
papers for a lot more students. They would not be paid
$50,000 a year mainly to deliver nine hours of lectures a
week, 32 weeks a year — lectures that they wrote 20 years
ago.
The only thing that keeps Internet-based education
from replacing 90% of the colleges in America is this: the
people who run the colleges have got themselves what
economists call a cartel. They don’t want to lose it.
The Academic Cartel
What is a cartel? You have heard of OPEC, the cartel
that controls the supply of oil. Its full name is the
Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries. OPEC
representatives get together and agree to reduce their
production of oil. This keeps oil prices high: high
demand, low supply.
That’s exactly what colleges do. They have set up an
academic cartel. They keep out new colleges — colleges
that are willing to meet consumer demand by selling
educational services at a lower price. The higher
education system doesn’t allow them to do this. There is a
legal barrier to entry for new colleges. It’s called
“accreditation.”
Existing colleges have joined regional accrediting
associations that Ph.D.-holding bureaucrats operate. The
representatives of these colleges set the standards for
accreditation. It’s kind of like a club. I mean the kind
of club that you hit people over the head with.
Accrediting organizations are not run by the
government, but they depend on state governments to make
non-accredited colleges illegal. The legal use of the
words “college” and “university” is controlled by the
states.
State governments define what constitutes a college or
university inside their own borders. Most states define a
college in terms of one criterion: it is accredited by one
of the regional accrediting associations. This pretty much
freezes the number of colleges that are legally allowed to
issue accredited degrees.
Accreditation reduces the supply of degrees actually
awarded. This reduced supply of education is not based on
a lack of supply of students who are smart enough and who
are willing to work hard enough to qualify for a college
degree. It’s a question of an artificially limited supply
of degree-granting institutions.
The colleges have those huge buildings, lawns to mow,
employees to pay, and all of those professors, assistant
professors, and teaching assistants with no Ph.D.’s (who do
most of the work grading papers and leading discussion
sections for freshmen and sophomore classes). This is a
huge investment. If there were true competition, 100%
Internet-based colleges would bankrupt hundreds of these
schools. Most of the others would have to learn how to
compete.
As a general rule, accrediting associations only
accredit schools that invest millions of dollars in
buildings. But in today’s digital world, liberal arts
instruction doesn’t require real estate. It only requires
dedicated teachers and dedicated students who are self-
motivated.
If the degree-granting system were really honest — if
it were not run by a cartel — then accredited college
degrees would be offered to any person who could pass the
same exams that the tuition-paying students also have to
pass. If the student could learn the material on his own,
but pass the standardized exams, then he would get the
degree.
Accrediting associations don’t allow this. Why not?
Because it would bankrupt hundreds of colleges that are
protected from true competition by the accrediting
associations. It would wipe out the colleges’ tuition
system, real estate system, and low teaching load system.
In every system, there are loopholes. Accreditation
has left intact at least seven of them. Hardly anyone
knows about all seven. One of them is off-campus learning.
Off-Campus Learning
Off-campus learning is a huge threat to the economics
of today’s campus-based system of higher education. But a
few colleges do offer it in the name of democracy. The
accreditors dare not ban these programs altogether, for
that would be undemocratic, but they monitor them carefully
to make sure that the programs don’t get too price-
competitive.
Only about 10% of 4-year colleges and universities
offer their students as many as half a dozen degree
programs by distance learning, even if they offer a hundred
majors to on-campus students. Most of these schools charge
the same tuition to distance-learning students that they
charge to on-campus students, even though off-campus
students don’t use the colleges’ real estate.
Nevertheless, some real bargains have slipped through the
cracks. But you have to know about their existence and
then go looking for them. Here is a good introductory
list.
Colleges like to pretend that off-campus learning is
substandard, second-best education. But is off-campus
learning really substandard? The evidence says otherwise.
The most recent evidence suggests that off-campus learning
is superior to traditional classroom education, from high
school through college.
Maybe you think I’m exaggerating. Maybe you think
there is some tremendous educational benefit that students
receive by attending classes on a college campus, compared
to the education gained by students who learn at home. Let
me prove to you that you’re wrong.
Well, actually, I won’t prove this to you. Thomas L.
Russell will. He has been studying this question for a
long time. He has gone back and looked at the published
evidence of the comparative performance of students who
have taken their courses on-campus vs. those who have taken
their courses off-campus. These academic studies go back
to 1928.
Russell’s amazing discovery is this: there is no
significant difference in student performance. This is
what study after study has shown, decade after decade.
To read the findings of educational professionals, click here.
Click on any year to see a summary of that year’s
report. The years are on the left-hand side of the screen.
Here are just a few samples from the era before TV was
widely used as an alternative to actual attendance in a
classroom:
1928: ”...no differences in test scores of
college classroom and correspondence study
students enrolled in the same subjects. “
1936: ””[Results of this study were very similar
to Crump 1928 and showed]...no differences in
test scores of college classroom and
correspondence study students enrolled in the
same subjects...”“
1940: “In all but two comparisons, correspondence
study students performed as well as or better
than their classroom counterparts and in the two
cases which were the exception the differences
were not significant.”
1943: ”... showed no significant differences
between the groups in terms of motivation to use
supplementary reading material.”
1949: “[Results of this study were very similar
to Hanna 1940 and Meierhenry 1946 and showed...]
in all but two comparisons, correspondence study
students performed as well as or better than
their classroom counterparts and in the two cases
which were the exception the differences were not
significant.”
It gets even more amazing. Recent studies have
revealed that students who have been educated in a off-
campus learning setting produce higher performance rates
than conventional classroom-based education does.
I ask you: Why are you determined to have your child
at age 17 or 18 go through the ritual of the dorm key? Why
not keep the child closer to home for an extra two years,
and then send the child off to college?
Even better, why not let the child stay at home for
all four years, work part-time, earn enough to make a down
payment on a home, and get the B.A. by mail?
Best of all (this is not hypothetical), why not pay
$5,000 and have the child get an accredited degree in less
than one year? Even I, as a man from inside academia,
didn’t know that this is possible. I found out less than a
year ago.
## Why Pay Retail?
No college can afford to give information away. Yet
there is almost nothing that is taught in a college that a
student could not get in a local public library or on the
Web.
If you have ever seen the movie, “Good Will Hunting,”
you probably remember the scene in the Cambridge,
Massachusetts restaurant where Will, a high school graduate
who is a genius, blows away a hot-shot Harvard student.
Will knows far more than he does. That’s because Will has
spent time in the public library, and he remembers
everything he has read. He tells the Harvard student that
he is spending a fortune to learn what Will has learned at
the public library.
There is a mid-way position between the Harvard
student’s parents’ enormous expenses and Will Hunting’s
lack of formal education. You child or grandchild can earn
an accredited degree at a fraction of the cost. I hope I
have motivated you to pursue other paths to this needlessly
expensive, high-risk, government-regulated crap-shoot.
Conclusion
Not all of you will want to pursue this topic any
further. Maybe you discovered this information too late.
So, I don’t think I should devote any more space to the
topic here. This article is probably too long already.
But for those of you who are in the market for an
accredited college degree at a wholesale price, but who
just aren’t sure if I’m blowing academic smoke (or maybe
even inhaling), I’ve written a follow-up report. It’s
called, Thirteen Myths of American Higher Education,
and Why You Shouldn’t Pay for Them
[I even offer a special bonus for all you hard-
core types who have made it to the end of this
issue. I refute the myth that non-students are
not allowed into the research libraries of
America’s most prestigious universities. There
are two words that do the trick: the “open
sesame” of research libraries. If you
know these two words, you don’t have to be
enrolled as a student or be an alumnus to get in.
In every case where a gatekeeper has ever told me
that I was not allowed in, I have said these two
words. The person then unlocks the turnstile.
Yet I pay nothing to enter. This is a very
useful piece of information, especially at a
research university a long way from home when
you’re on a tight deadline.]
To get your copy of my report about 60 seconds from
now, click here.
Your email program will pop up an email box. Then all you
need to do is click the SEND button.
About 60 seconds later, go to your email browser
program’s SEND/RECV button and start clicking. When
my report arrives in your mailbox at your internet service
provider, your click on SEND/RECV will download it.
For those of you who have already written lots of
checks to a member institution of the oligopoly of higher
education, I can only say that I’m sorry that you read this
report too late. If I believed in either luck or
reincarnation, I’d tell you, “Better luck next time.”