An experiment in market-led higher education: The case of the Buckingham ‘licence’

Any higher education institution in England wanting degree awarding powers has to register with the Office for Students (OfS), an agency set up under the Higher Education and Research Act, 2017. (In the UK, higher education is a devolved responsibility. Northern Ireland, Scotland and Wales have their own regulatory bodies.) Registering with the OfS brings with it a huge range of regulations, with implications for content taught, teaching methods, employment of staff and admissions of students, which drastically undermine educational independence (see Tooley, 2024).

Degree awarding powers in England, as in many countries across the world (e.g. Australia, India, Ireland, the Netherlands and New Zealand), go in tandem with strict government regulations. However, is it conceivable to provide higher education without degree-awarding powers and hence freedom from these regulations?

This article focuses on the case of the University College at Buckingham's ‘licence’ as an example of what is, or at least was, possible. The experiment lasted from the 1976 opening of the University College at Buckingham until the University of Buckingham was granted a Royal Charter in 1983.

To be clear, I am not discussing here higher education in countries which have permissive regulatory regimes, such as the United States, where there is no national protection of the title of university and degree-awarding powers (although some states have restrictions). In such countries, different issues could be explored, outside the context of this article. In certain states in the US, for instance, unaccredited institutions of higher education arise, often deemed to be low-quality and dubbed ‘diploma mills’, although conversely there are also unaccredited Bible colleges and seminaries, whose degrees do have considerable value in the market. Instead, this article asks: in countries where degree-awarding powers and the use of the university title are tightly regulated, is it possible to conceive of market-led higher education outside of this government tutelage? I argue that the case of Buckingham answers this question in the affirmative.

By the late 1960s, notable academics in the UK were worried about the ways in which government was impinging upon university autonomy, and hence on academic freedom and scholarly excellence. They sought to launch a new university as a beacon for independence. This was not some fringe group: chaired by Sir Sydney Caine, Director of the London School of Economics (LSE), the Planning Board for an Independent University included distinguished professors such as Oxford's Max Beloff, and the LSE's Michael Oakeshott and Alan Walters.

In the introduction to the seminal paper setting out the case for a new independent university, the Institute of Economic Affairs' Arthur Seldon wrote: “For some years the increasing finance of universities by government has provoked thought on the urgency of at least one major centre of university teaching and research that would be free of government finance and therefore of government influence” (Seldon, 1969, p. 4).

Professor Max Beloff, who was to become the first Principal of Buckingham from 1974 to 1979, outlined how the new independent university would be explicitly designed to challenge three commitments which “have dominated the public approach to higher education in this country”. These were “a commitment to egalitarian at the expense of elitist values; a commitment to collectivism at the expense of individual or group initiative; and a commitment to conceal from the beneficiaries of higher education and the public at large the real costs of the expansion in the provisions for higher education” (Beloff, 1971, p. 20). The greatest problem with universities, he wrote, is the “inroads on their autonomy”, which “have led increasingly to their absorption into a single system like the Napoleonic université” (1971, p. 22).

On 29 March 1973 the University College at Buckingham Limited was incorporated as a company limited by guarantee, that is, a non-profit company without shareholders. Classes started on 3 February 1976. The first Matriculation speech was given by Margaret Thatcher, then the leader of the Conservative Party and first female Leader of the Opposition in Parliament. “I am here because I believe in an ideal”, she said, “and I believe that ideals are meant to be lived”. The ideal was of educational freedom: “independence, we must remember, is not a gift”, she said. “It is not something that governments confer, but something that a free people enjoys – and uses” (Conservative Central Office, 1976).

Buckingham was created under an “extremely hostile Labour government” which “ignored it, in the hope that it would fade away” (Hedgcock, 1983). Indeed, the Department of Education and Science boycotted the inauguration (Buckingham Advertiser, 1976).

The first graduation took place on 17 February 1978, hosted by Sir Ralph Verney (Vice-Lord Lieutenant of Buckinghamshire) with His Royal Highness Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh in attendance. Of the 48 students who sat their finals, 43 were successful, in Law, Economics and Politics. There was one first-class honours.

But what exactly were the students graduating with? Herein lies a story of entrepreneurial flair against an adverse regulatory environment. There were two major innovations – the first of which led, not quite intentionally, to the second.

First, Buckingham was unique in that its undergraduate programmes were of two years' duration, rather than the three which had long been the norm in England. As one commentator put it, three-year programmes in the UK are “sacrosanct … it has always been like that, for excellent reasons nobody can quite recall” (Walden, 1992). Except reasons could be recalled: During the Middle Ages, Oxford and Cambridge were subject to plague during the summer months. Scholars were safer vacating the towns, avoiding the plague, and they could also help with bringing in the harvest back home. As Walden dryly noted, it “being some time since anyone died of the plague in Buckingham”, the Buckingham founders inserted an additional term where other universities have the long summer break. With the additional teaching time, undergraduates could complete degrees in two years, suffer no learning loss because of the extended summer holiday, and enter the labour market a year earlier and with one year's less accommodation expenses.

Financial efficiency arguments were also important for a new private university where every penny mattered. What was the sense in raising money to purchase land and buildings and employ staff, if these were fully used for only around half the year?

Second, however, students were graduating with ‘licences’ of the University College at Buckingham, not degrees as might be expected. These licences had no government imprimatur. And yet, awarding only these licences, the new university expanded over tenfold in numbers, (graduating 43 students in 1978 and 473 in 1982). How did this transpire?

The issue of what awards the new independent university could offer was discussed at the first meeting of the Planning Board for the Independent University, on 22 January 1969. A customary route to becoming a new university in the UK was for a university college first to offer teaching for University of London external degrees. After some years doing this successfully, a putative university could petition for a Royal Charter and gain degree-awarding powers, or, less commonly, achieve the same through a private Act of Parliament.

Royal Charters can be traced back to medieval times in Europe, when monarchs began granting special privileges and legal powers to certain towns, guilds, or groups, to encourage economic development and to regulate and promote trade. Some of the earliest Royal Charters were granted to universities, including Oxford and Cambridge and their colleges, from the thirteenth century onwards.

The decline in the prominence of these charters in commercial life can be attributed to many factors, including the emergence of parliamentary systems, where legislative bodies took on a greater role in shaping laws and regulations, so reducing the exclusive authority of monarchs. Hence, their significance in commercial life diminished, replaced by more modern legal and regulatory frameworks that govern economic activities.

However, following the traditions of Oxford and Cambridge, institutions of higher education in the UK were spared the general desuetude of Royal Charters, as a result of a range of factors. Many universities and colleges have deep historical roots, often dating back several centuries, and the tradition and prestige associated with these institutions contribute to the continued value of Charters. Moreover, donors and benefactors may be more likely to contribute to institutions with a long-standing and prestigious history, again associated with Royal Charters. From the late nineteenth century until 1992, all new universities except Newcastle, which was separated from the University of Durham by Act of Parliament, were created and given degree-awarding powers by Royal Charter.

Starting as a college offering University of London external degrees and then petitioning for a Royal Charter to become a university in its own right was the tried and tested route that had been followed by, amongst others, the Universities of Birmingham, Manchester, Bristol, Reading, Nottingham, Southampton, Hull, Exeter, Leicester and Cardiff. Overseas institutions following the same route, including the Universities of Ceylon, West Indies, Ghana, Ibadan and Nairobi.

However, an alternative route to degree-awarding powers had opened in 1964 when the Council for National Academic Awards (CNAA) was established, to regulate technical higher education institutions known as ‘polytechnics’. In 1972, an Academic Executive was established by the Planning Board for the Independent University, given the task of deciding between the options of the London external and CNAA degree routes.

Although a widely accepted and well-trodden pathway, the University of London option was seen as imposing “an intolerable strait-jacket” (Pemberton & Pemberton, 1979, p. 64), and so the CNAA route was chosen. It may seem counterintuitive that the Planning Board would seek to be directly regulated by a central government agency rather than indirectly through the University of London. This may have been because of the role of Lord Hailsham, who was closely involved with the new university, unveiling its foundation plaque and becoming the first ‘Visitor’ of the university on 3 May 1974 – and later in 1983 becoming its first Chancellor. The CNAA had been inaugurated when Lord Hailsham (then known as Quintin Hogg) was Secretary of State for Education and Science; it may have been felt that he could extend some influence over it.

On the other hand, in his speech unveiling the foundation stone, Lord Hailsham pointed out that going to the CNAA was “some derogation from the bold ideal of absolute independence”. However, he continued, “there seems no other way of doing justice to students who commit their future to a new institution, and are entitled to expect something of objective value recognised by the outside world as the result of their studies” (Hailsham, 1974). In other words, even those at the forefront of promoting independence in higher education could see no alternative to state endorsement as the way of achieving recognition.

At the time there would have been a range of certificates that were issued by private sector bodies and not endorsed by the state. Examples would have included the newly created International Baccalaureate, music certificates, and martial arts awards (see Tooley, 2021). It is interesting that no equivalent contemporary examples of alternatives to state recognition could be thought of in higher education.

In 1972, the Academic Executive of Buckingham informally approached the CNAA, reporting back to the Planning Board that no difficulties were envisaged, as long as the new institution didn't call itself a University; ‘University College’ would suit nicely. Negotiations with the CNAA began, with good progress made between April and November 1973 discussing the first course, a two-year law degree. However, it was the two-year nature of the programme that was to be the major obstacle, as set out in a letter dated 28 November 1973 from the CNAA to the Principal, Max Beloff. Degrees were of three years' duration, the CNAA declared, and there could be no exceptions.

Beloff replied at length to the CNAA on 22 February 1974: “The Buckingham two year degree”, Professor Beloff wrote, “should be called an eight term degree, since there will be four terms, each of approximately 10 weeks, in every calendar year”. He pointed out that this total of 80 weeks for the course compared favourably with the 72 weeks overall for an Oxford and Cambridge degree. He highlighted the mode of instruction:

On 8 July 1974, the CNAA sent a delegation to Buckingham. Because the University College buildings were being renovated, meetings were held at the Swan and Castle (now the Villiers) Hotel. At these meetings, “The proposal for a two-year degree course was probed in detail, and it was apparent that this was a topic fraught with difficulty” (Pemberton & Pemberton, 1979, p. 69). So it was “not entirely unexpected” when the CNAA wrote to Buckingham at the beginning of August 1974 that they were not “prepared to accept” two year degrees. Rather than seek recognition for three-year degrees, Buckingham withdrew from the negotiations. The Board decided that “to obtain for its students the reassurance which the CNAA's imprimatur might have provided would have required too great a sacrifice of freedom in such central matters as curriculum design and the structure of the academic year” (Pemberton & Pemberton, 1979, p. 69).

So what was to be done? The Planning Board decided to name the Buckingham qualification a ‘licence’, and pursue a genuinely free-market alternative to government-sanctioned degrees. They aimed to gain recognition for the licence from a portfolio of ‘end-users’, and then publicise this widely to prospective students. The aim was to show potential employers and other universities that a Buckingham licence was considered equal to a normal degree.

A letter in The Times (17 August 1975) set the tone “signed by representatives of six of the country's leading companies”. This stated: “As heads of companies which recruit widely among university graduates, we would like to put on record that we look forward to welcoming applications from future graduates of Buckingham and will certainly accept Buckingham degrees [sic] as evidence of their qualifications” (quoted in Pemberton & Pemberton, 1979, p. 70).

Second, overtures were made to the legal profession; and the Law Society (for solicitors) and the Council of Legal Education (for barristers) both wrote to the University College that they were persuaded that the Buckingham law licence was equivalent to any law degree awarded by recognised British universities (Council of Legal Education, 1975; Law Society, 1975).

Third, after Buckingham's approaches, the Association of Cost and Executive Accountants, the Institute of Chartered Accountants in England and Wales, and the Institute of Chartered Secretaries each agreed that Buckingham licences were equivalent to degrees from elsewhere. Other groups took slightly longer to persuade, but by 1981 the Civil Service Commission and the Armed Forces had also accepted that Buckingham licences were equivalent to degrees (Stevens, 1983).

Finally, external examiners for University College at Buckingham programmes were recruited by the Registrar on the explicit basis that they apply equivalent standards of marking to those they would at any other recognised university. Indeed, as the second Principal, Professor Alan Peacock, pointed out, this was a two-way process: “No better indication of [equal] recognition can be given than the fact that several senior academic staff (at Buckingham) are presently external examiners … for other universities, including Oxford, Cambridge, St Andrews, London and Liverpool” (Peacock, 1982, p. 3).

By the time of the third student intake in 1978 “it was possible not just to claim, but also to prove from experience, that for most practical purposes a student coming to Buckingham was on an equal footing with a student reading for an honours degree in corresponding fields in British universities” (Pemberton & Pemberton, 1979, p. 74).¹

In 1982, Professor Alan Peacock opened the Prospectus acknowledging that “The process of de facto recognition of the Licence seems to be approaching completion”. Hence, “The Council of Management has now decided that this is the right moment to petition Her Majesty-in-Council for a Royal Charter” (Peacock, 1982, p. 3).

Recall that the original aim had been for the University (College) to prove itself for a number of years, and then seek a Royal Charter. Having proven itself, the Royal Charter route was now available to take.

However, the de facto recognition was a much greater accomplishment than what was originally set out to achieve. The University College had proven that a purely market-driven institution could create a completely new market-led qualification to which end-users such as the law and accountancy societies, the civil service and armed forces, and other universities gave a value equal to government-endorsed qualifications. This was so much more significant a step than simply achieving successful teaching towards CNAA or University of London degrees for a number of years. Indeed, de facto recognition could arguably have become the legitimate end-goal for an independent, market-led university, rather than a stepping stone to state sanction through a Royal Charter.

This argument (although present in contemporaneous discussions²) did not carry the day, and so it was that the University College at Buckingham applied for its Royal Charter. Just as for the CNAA application, it was by no means a foregone conclusion that it would be granted. The Times Higher Education Supplement (1983) speculated that the “University Grants Committee, the Committee of Vice Chancellors and Principals and the Council for National Academic Awards” would have been unlikely to support the application.

However, the Royal Charter was awarded on 11 February 1983,³ with the formal presentation on 23 July 1983. It must be stressed that being awarded the Royal Charter was seen by many as heralding a victory for the principles of the independent university: the Birmingham Post (1983) noted that the “University College at Buckingham, which has been quietly notching up successes since it was opened by Mrs Thatcher in 1976 … will be the only full-blown university financed by private means and not dependent on central Government grants”. The Australian noted that the Royal Charter made Buckingham “theoretically equal to Oxford, Cambridge and all the rest” (Hedgcock, 1983).

The award of the Royal Charter showed, said The Times (1983), that

The Economist (1983) took a similarly positive line in favour of the independent university: “As the government has applied the scalpel to university funding, Buckingham has prospered.” It compared Buckingham to “Enterprising universities … such as the London School of Economics”, which “have likewise reduced their dependence on government grants as fast as they can”.

So on the one hand, the award of the Royal Charter could be seen as notching up a victory for independence. A small, independent university without any government funding had achieved the accolade of a Royal Charter and with it degree-awarding powers in perpetuity.

However, it is interesting to note that in newspapers at the time an alternative perspective was also voiced, from surprising quarters, reflecting the alternative market approach that some at the University also held. The leader in the Times Higher Education Supplement (1983) noted:

Was the Royal Charter then a victory for independence or a betrayal of market principles?

Fast-forward to the present day and it would seem that quite a strong case could be made for the second view. The higher education regulator, the Office for Students (OfS), classifies providers of higher education into two categories, ‘approved (fee cap)’ and ‘approved’, which prima facie coincides with what people think of as ‘public’ and ‘private’ respectively.

Universities under the first heading are subject to 24 sets of regulations, covering an enormous range of territory, including access and participation (A conditions); quality and standards (B conditions); protecting student interests (C conditions); financial sustainability (D conditions); good governance (E conditions); providing information (F conditions); and fees and funding accountability (G conditions).

Universities under the second heading, which include the University of Buckingham (supposedly ‘independent’), are subject to 21 of the 24 conditions. The three exceptions – the ability to set one's own fees; not being held accountable through an access and participation plan (which restricts universities' abilities to conduct student admissions as they wish); and not having to enter the Research Excellence Framework, a process for ranking universities which many consider to distort the research process (Tooley & Craven, 2018) – are three freedoms worth having. But arguably these are dwarfed by the 21 remaining sets of regulations which potentially impinge upon most aspects of University autonomy, including course content and delivery, teaching quality and staff recruitment (Tooley, 2024 ).

Alarmingly, Royal Charters can now be revoked by the new regulator, even if, like Buckingham's, they were supposedly granted in perpetuity (Higher Education and Research Act, 2017, s. 45; OfS, 2022, para. 269). In other words, the hard-won accolade of the Royal Charter, which gave such a fillip to the independent university, is vulnerable to regulatory removal by a bureaucratic fiat.

Could a new institution go the free-market route that Buckingham originally embraced? Under the current regulations (OfS, 2022, paras 58, 70) it would be difficult, but not impossible. It could not have degree-awarding powers; Buckingham showed that was not required. It could not call itself a university; again, Buckingham showed that that was not essential. It couldn't access public funding or student support; these would not be obstacles to a free-market alternative. The major stumbling block may be that, without registering with the OfS, it could not acquire a Home Office Tier 4 licence, and hence could not bring in international students. However, negotiations may be possible with the Home Office to explore other routes for international student admissions. It's a further question, of course, whether any of the potential end-users of free-market certification would be as open to Buckingham-style innovations now as they were then, or whether the regulatory state is now much more all-encompassing, hindering escape.

Nevertheless, a tantalising ‘what if …? ’ question remains. What if the University College at Buckingham had continued with its market-driven licence awards, without the Royal Charter? Could it have avoided being sucked into the current regulatory quagmire? Would its existence have provided an example for others to follow, and a counterbalance to the government's demand for increasing regulatory encroachment?

Perhaps it could have been different. In any case, a role for a University like Buckingham today is to point out that the excesses of the current regulatory regime – not just for so-called ‘independent’ universities, but for all of England's universities – and to detail potential alternatives.