November 20, 2025
UWA Public Policy Institute Higher Education Summit 2025, Fit for Purpose? The Future of Governance, Regulation & Impact of the Australian Higher Education Sector
The politics of higher education – know when to hold and when to fold
Keynote speech from Vicki Thomson, Chief Executive, Group of Eight Universities
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When I was asked to close today’s UWA Policy Institute forum, I kept coming back to a song some of you of a certain age may know – and I am showing my age!
Kenny Rogers’ classic – The Gambler – about knowing when to hold ’em, when to fold ’em, and when to walk away.
Now, I promise I’m not about to break into song – although I have been known to!
But the metaphor is powerful.
Because leadership—whether in life, business, or higher education—is about judgment.
It’s about timing. It’s about knowing when to stick with what you’ve got, when to change course, and when to rethink the game entirely.
And right now, in Australian higher education, we are at that moment.
The stakes are high. The cards on the table—governance, regulation, funding—are shaping the future of our universities.
Today, I want to talk about three things:
- The hand we’ve been dealt—the governance and regulatory frameworks we operate under.
- The signals of change—ATEC, the mergers in South Australia and potentially here in WA.
- And most importantly, what true reform looks like—and why we need it now.
Let me start with a conversation I had recently with the Commissioner of Jobs and Skills Australia—who is also the interim ATEC Commissioner – Professor Barney Glover.
We were talking about the future of tertiary education – system stewardship – and he said something that has stayed with me:
“We need courage. And we need a system where everyone does not look the same.”
Think about that. Courage—and diversity of approach.
And yet, here we are. Forty years after Dawkins, still operating under a structure that makes our institutions look and act more alike than different.
As I said recently – just look at the fact that we have 37 law schools across our 38 public universities Australia – 37!
Do we really need that many?
Does that make sense in a country of our size?
While other critical areas—like advanced manufacturing, cybersecurity, and Indigenous health—remain underdeveloped, we keep duplicating the same programs.
It’s a clear sign of uniformity over diversity. Instead of encouraging differentiation and specialisation, our system rewards sameness.
And I’ll be frank: I don’t believe we’ve had courage in policy reform.
We’ve had reviews, we’ve had tweaks, we’ve had endless consultations—but not the bold, structural changes that the sector desperately needs.
The Group of Eight universities are the research heavy lifters of this nation. We produce 70% of Australia’s university research, drive innovation, and underpin our global reputation. But the current system treats us as if we are interchangeable with every other institution.
That stifles excellence and ignores the unique role Go8 plays in national prosperity.
That’s why this conversation matters.
So let’s look at the hand we are dealt.
Our governance and regulatory systems were designed for a different era. They were built for a time when universities were smaller, less complex, and less globally connected.
In 1988 – the year before HECS was introduced – there were 420,850 students in higher education in Australia including 11440 overseas students. In 2024 there were over 1 million Australian students enrolled in higher education and almost another 600 thousand overseas students.
A time before digital transformation, before international competition, before the research and innovation economy became central to national prosperity.
And yet, here we are—still playing with that same old deck.
The last true structural reform in Australian higher education was the Dawkins reforms of the late 1980s.
Those reforms were bold.
They reshaped the sector, expanded access, and created the unified national system we know today.
But that was more than 40 years ago.
Since then, we’ve had tweaks, adjustments, and incremental changes. We’ve had funding reviews, regulatory refinements, and compliance layers added like barnacles on a ship.
What we haven’t had is systemic reform.
And now the cracks are showing.
Since the Dawkins reforms, domestic student numbers have doubled.
The Universities Accord is calling for another doubling.
But here’s the kicker: there’s no clear vision for the system or the funding that will make that happen.
We are getting big without knowing the odds.
Funding per student? It’s been sliding in real terms for a decade, while costs climb higher than inflation.
The Education Investment Fund – the main pot for infrastructure – has been closed.
Meanwhile we are spending hundreds of millions every year on compliance.
That’s money that could be invested in research or student support.
Our regulatory environment is fragmented, with State and Federal governments, multiple agencies, overlapping mandates, and reporting requirements that often duplicate effort.
For the Go8, this mismatch is stark. We attract the majority of competitive research funding, yet we operate under the same compliance and regulatory frameworks as institutions with vastly different missions.
And then there’s the hidden cost of research – the essential infrastructure, compliance, and support services that make world-class research possible but are not fully funded. Often we are topping up salaries to market rates just to keep that talent.
For every dollar the Government provides, the Go8 estimates we have to find an additional $1.19 in unfunded support. That comes largely from international students. Without it Government funding programs like the ARC, NHMRC and MRFF would collapse.
For research-intensive universities, these costs are significant and growing, yet the current funding model does not adequately recognise or reimburse them.
This leaves the Go8 carrying a disproportionate financial burden simply to maintain the research capacity that underpins Australia’s global standing.
We are asked to lead globally significant research while navigating rules designed for a one-size-fits-all system.
That’s not just inefficient—it’s a structural mismatch that puts Australia’s research future at risk.
And let’s talk about governance.
Universities must be accountable.
We support transparency—absolutely. But accountability must be proportionate.
Right now, governance frameworks often impose layers of reporting and oversight that add cost and complexity without improving outcomes.
For research-intensive universities like the Go8, this means time and resources diverted from innovation and teaching to compliance.
Recent analysis by the University of Sydney shows its legislative compliance register lists 331 instruments and associated documents, with 157 imposing significant compliance burdens – a 10 per cent increase in just two years.
The Office of Impact Analysis in PMC examined just one of these – the National Higher Education Code to Prevent and Respond to Gender-based violence – and found a regulatory cost of $1.2 billion over 10 years – only $32.7 million attributable to Government.
This does not include duplication with the National student Ombudsman, TEQSA, and the Australian Tertiary Education Commission.
The estimated $173 million annual cost of the National Code exceeds the entire sector’s operating surplus in 2023.
The message is clear: if regulation is necessary – and of course it is – it must be efficient and effective. Anything less fails to serve the interests of those we aim to protect.
Good governance should enable excellence, not stifle it.
It should protect integrity without creating unnecessary bureaucracy.
It should provide guardrails – not a straight-jacket.
This isn’t just inconvenient. It’s existential. Because if we keep playing by outdated rules, we risk losing the very things that make our universities world-class. At the Go8 that means research excellence, academic freedom, and the ability to innovate.
And let’s not forget the human impact. Every compliance report, every duplicated process, every funding uncertainty—these aren’t abstract problems. They affect real people:
- academics spending more time on paperwork than research or teaching
- students facing cuts to services
- researchers struggling to secure grants because the system is clogged with inefficiency.
The same principle applies to funding.
Take the Medical Research Future Fund – capped at $650 million a year by the Morrison Government. Since then there’s been an underspend of almost $1 billion.
Recently we took a group of leading Go8 researchers – including Professor Graham Hillis fromUWA – to Parliament House to highlight the opportunity cost of the cap. We’re not just missing research milestones – we are missing chances to improve lives, save lives, and deliver the economic and social benefits that come with investing in health innovation.
One of those researchers – Professor Simon Craig – a paediatric emergency medicine physician at Monash Medical Centre, is about to submit his fifth MRFF application to conduct a randomised controlled trial to determine the optimal intravenous treatment for children with severe exacerbations of asthma.
We’re not asking for more money – the money is there – sitting in a future fund earning interest that is supposed to be spent on medical research.
Now, let’s talk about the signals of change.
In South Australia, two universities have/are merged. Here in WA, there is talk—serious talk—of a merger.
They are signs of courage. They are universities saying: “We cannot keep doing things the same way. We need to adapt.”
Mergers, when done well, are not just survival strategies—they are strategic steps toward reform.
They create scale, resilience, and the ability to compete globally. They allow institutions to pool resources, strengthen research capacity, and deliver better outcomes for students and communities.
It shows what’s possible when institutions think boldly.
They demonstrate that reform can start from within the sector—not just from government policy.
But—and this is important—mergers alone are not enough.
They are part of the solution, not the whole solution.
Because while they address financial and structural pressures, they do not fix the underlying governance and regulatory frameworks that created those pressures in the first place.
And then there’s ATEC
On paper, ATEC sounds like a solution: a body to coordinate, to streamline, to bring coherence.
But here’s the risk: if ATEC becomes just another layer of bureaucracy, another compliance burden, another set of hoops for universities to jump through, then we will have created more problems than we solve.
If ATEC is to succeed, it must simplify, not complicate.
It must empower, not constrain.
It must reduce the regulatory load, not add to it.
Ask yourself: what kind of system do we want in 2035? In 2050?
Do we want a system that limps along, patching holes as they appear? Or do we want a system that is bold, resilient, and future-ready?
And so we come back to Kenny Rogers.
Leadership is knowing when to hold, when to fold, and when to change the game.
For Australian higher education, the time for holding is over.
We cannot keep clinging to outdated structures and hoping they will somehow deliver the outcomes we need. We cannot keep folding under pressure and making piecemeal adjustments.
But there is one policy we must fold—and fold decisively: Job-Ready Graduates.
JRG was introduced with the promise of aligning student choices with workforce needs. It was sold as a way to encourage enrolments in areas of national priority by cutting fees for some disciplines and increasing them for others. It was a policy that the Group of Eight did not support at the time and we still don’t – it has been an unmitigated disaster.
Instead of creating opportunity, it has entrenched inequity.
It has penalised students who choose humanities and social sciences—fields that are critical for understanding society, shaping policy, and building the very civic fabric that underpins democracy.
It has created a system where a student’s financial burden depends not on their talent or ambition, but on a political judgment about what is “job-ready.”
And here’s the irony: the evidence shows that graduates from the humanities and social sciences are highly employable, adaptable, and resilient in a changing economy. Yet under JRG, they pay thousands more for the privilege.
In fact, the cost of a humanities degree has more than doubled, increased by 113 percent.
This is not reform. This is distortion. And it is unfair.
If we are serious about equity
If we are serious about building a system that serves students and the nation – then JRG must go
It is a policy we need to fold—not hold.
Because real reform is not about punishing choice. It is about creating a system that values all disciplines, supports lifelong learning, and prepares graduates for a future we cannot fully predict.
And for the Go8, reform must mean protecting and strengthening our capacity to lead research and innovation.
It means funding models that reward excellence, not dilute it.
If we fail to do this, we don’t just weaken eight universities—we weaken Australia’s global standing.
If we play this hand wisely—if we have the courage to act—we can secure a future where Australian universities don’t just survive the next decade but thrive for generations to come.
This is our moment to lead. To design a system that values diversity of mission, rewards excellence, and gives our students—not just some, but all—the chance to succeed without inequity or distortion.
A system that strengthens our position as global research leaders while supporting every institution to deliver on its unique role.
And yes, reform means knowing when to walk away from policies that fail—and when to run from those that harm equity and excellence.
The stakes are too high for anything less.
Let’s build a system worthy of the next generation—one that reflects courage, fairness, and ambition.
Ends
