Free Bums on Seats by Tom Davies Page B

We’re registered as a charity. So we couldn’t borrow sizable sums for the purpose.”
    Simon decided to declare his hand. He took three deep breaths, cleared his throat and set a smile. “What we want is student income which is outside the control of Government, in other words, overseas students with funding from their own government. And we want lots of them.”
    â€œHow would we attract them?”
    By making ourselves customer-friendly, so to speak. We’d establish what their government needed and then provide it.”
    â€œHow would we do that?”
    â€œWe’d find a country in need, which shouldn’t be hard. Set up a joint body to establish financial arrangements and co-ordinate academic standards and procedures. Tailor a syllabus for them. Make helpful domestic arrangements to accommodate a block of students from that country. Collect the fees and get on with delivering education.”
    Jamieson asked, “How much a student year would the free market stand?”
    â€œI should have thought around £8,000 at least for a tailored syllabus. I reckon we could cope with 200 additional new students in any year. We’ve established academic and teaching arrangements. We’re well blessed with halls of residence. Each student would take three years to go through the course, as UK nationals do now.”
    Jamieson, who prided himself on speed of calculation, blinked and informed them, “That’s £1.6 million pounds a year. So, £4.8 million over three years from just one annual batch.” He would never know it but he was the last in the room to compute the sum. He continued, “And if we could attract a new batch every year…” He swallowed hard and had a mental orgasm at the sheer joy of the imaginary cash flow.
    Bellamy said, “Interesting idea, Simon; wonder why we’ve not done it already.”
    Natalie Gold answered, “Because we’re not yet truly customer oriented. Just the thought of having customers, let alone responding to their needs, is felt demeaning. Shops have customers. Academe favours the deserving with tuition, so long as they conform to the learning structure on offer.”
    They mulled over Simon’s proposition for another thirty minutes and considered no other.
    Bellamy took the lead again. ‘Well, Chloe, I think you’ve led us well at this first meeting.” Simon groaned inwardly at the patronising old twit. He continued, “I suggest that you and Simon carry on the good work and draft an outline report for the Senior Management Executive Committee.” So that was why he’d proposed Chloe for the Chair. He was work avoiding in the finest old-style university tradition, thought Simon.
    â€œI’m sure we’d be delighted Dean,” she responded, “any final points from anyone?”
    There were none. Chloe got to her feet. “I’ll produce some notes for comment, thanks for coming.” The others went, leaving her with Simon. “Let’s go to my office then you can give me more details.” He wondered how much to say.
    They stopped at the vending machine. He produced some change. “Lemon tea, please,” she said. Simon opted for black coffee.
    In her office, Chloe opened a cupboard and produced biscuits. “Well, what else can you tell me? Which country do you have in mind? She was very direct, he thought. There was little point in him shilly-shallying.
    â€œDo you know Luke Nweewe?”
    â€œYes, I’ve met him. So you’re thinking of Zombek?”
    â€œHe comes from the ruling tribe. His father is President. An uncle is Minister of Education. Luke is one of my post-grad students, but also a friend. He talks to me of his country’s needs.”
    She surprised him by saying, “They’re in a typical economic evolutionary bind.They can tick over nicely as an agrarian society. Everyone’s well fed, reasonably housed and