A Fairfax Media investigation this week exposed a website writing made-to-order assignments for students at 16 Australian universities. What does it say about the health of our higher education sector? Adam Morton explains.
How did the scheme work?
In a snapshot of what experts say is evidence of a wider problem at Australian universities, the investigation by reporters Amy McNeilage and Lisa Visentin found up to 1000 students had hired the company to write their essays and assignments, and sit online tests on their behalf.
Run by the MyMaster Group, it has churned out thousands of university assignments and collected hundreds of thousands of dollars over the past two and a half years. The website is written in Chinese and aimed at international students from China, boasts 100 graduate writers from prestigious Australian universities and claims to be the largest essay-writing service in Sydney.
Based on 697 receipts for deposits into the MyMaster account, students have pay up to $1050 for an individual assignment. Students pay a 50 per cent deposit and are promised a pass or credit for a flat rate. A distinction or high distinction quality piece costs a premium.
Which universities were the students from?
All over the country. Though largely from Sydney campuses, the students in the sample of assignment requests uncovered included institutions in Victoria, Western Australia and Queensland. The most affected Victorian institution was La Trobe University, which has its principal campus in Bundoora in north-east Melbourne. Its students spent $3108 with MyMaster in the period examined. RMIT was also on the list.
Is this site a one-off?
No, it is a wider and longer-term problem. The Fairfax investigation found there were numerous websites offering similar services, though most were found to be based offshore.
Back in 2006, The Age asked three academics for essay questions and commissioned essays answering them from US websites. The academics then marked them.
The results were mixed. One would have passed or slightly better. One would have failed because, though well written, it ignored the required reading list. The third didn't turn up.
Of course, students cheated long before they had access to the Internet, including paying others to do their work. US fraternity houses have a storied history of basement libraries full of essays for students to pass off as their own. But access to organisations willing to help falsify your way through a degree has never been easier.
Beyond the rise of the Internet, what are the underlying causes here?
There isn't a simple answer to that, but the shifting funding model for Australian universities has arguably played a role. Federal funding per student has been cut over time, and the cost born by students has risen. For most Australian students, this cost is deferred until they earn a living wage and then drawn over time from their salary.
International students pay up to three times as much as locals for their degrees – up to $40,000 a year – and pay it upfront. Universities are increasingly reliant on them, with some generating up to a quarter of income from international student fees. The international education industry is now worth $15 billion a year, making it the country's fourth biggest export industry behind only iron ore, coal and gold. Of the more than 230,000 people on international student visas last year, nearly a third were Chinese.
Australian universities being internationally attractive is unarguably a good thing, and a diverse mix of backgrounds enlivens a campus, but there is concern that the pressure to boost the bottom line is leading to universities admitting students who don't have a good enough grasp of English to cope with a course in that language. There are anecdotal stories of students turning up to enrolment and classes with friends or others to interpret on their behalf. This shouldn't be possible – students are required to sit an English language test before being admitted – but there have been reported instances of rorting of these tests, particularly in China. Some academics have questioned whether universities and bureaucrats have been happy to turn a blind eye, fearing a crackdown would scare away prospective students.
What has the reaction to the investigation been?
Frustration, largely. Some academics were savage, accusing the universities of being addicted to revenue from fee-paying students to the point that it admitted and passed some who were functionally illiterate. More than 50 contacted Fairfax Media after the initial report was published, many concerned that the reliance on international fees had led to systemic cheating.
Universities largely acknowledged a problem, but said it should not be overstated – that it was confined to a small number of students and that there were systems in place to catch those who cheated.
What does it mean for the quality of Australian degrees: are students getting what they pay for?
Speaking anonymously, academics in some disciplines say there is an implicit expectation that they will pass fee-paying students who fulfil the requirements of the course – attend classes and submit assignments – unless their work is disastrously poor. Some doubt whether this makes for a system that adequately prepares students for the job market, particularly in some postgraduate courses designed specifically to attract international students.
What happened in the MyMaster case?
The director of the MyMaster Group, Yingying Dou, declined to comment. Within hours of her being approached the site was taken down.
