Reclaiming Australian universities as public institutions.
Australian universities are publicly founded institutions. Their first duty is to serve the communities that built them, and the pressures of this moment make that duty more pressing, not less.
We treat public hospitals and public schools as part of the social contract. Everyone can be treated; every child can be taught. Universities belong in the same category, and we should say so plainly: they exist to serve society as a whole, not a balance sheet. Accessibility, equity, and the long-term national interest come before narrow commercial returns.
I have spent my career where universities, industry, and government meet. I helped build research commercialisation systems. I took online education into Latin America, India, and Australia. I put together university-industry partnerships in climate and biotech, including the Artificial Heart Frontiers Program, a $50 million consortium changing how we treat heart failure. One lesson held across all of it. Universities do their best work when they act as public institutions first, embed themselves in their communities, and play the long game. The results are not modest.
None of this is theory. It is already happening across the sector. The task now is not to invent the future but to back the right kind of change, and to keep growth, innovation, and global reach tied to the public purpose universities exist for.
An essential public role in society
Universities do two things no other institution does at the same scale. They educate the next generation of professionals, leaders, and citizens, and they produce the research that lifts everyday life. The output is a public good: understanding, skilled graduates, and discovery that belongs to everyone.
That public role carries an obligation to be accessible. When a student from a country town or a low-income family earns a degree, the country gains, not just the graduate. And the gain compounds. The teachers in our schools, the nurses and doctors in our hospitals, the engineers who build our infrastructure, the scientists working on our health and climate problems: all of them trained at a university. Strip that out and the services stop.
This is why public investment in universities is not charity. It is the thing that keeps the rest running. When universities are strong and open, the economy grows, communities get the people they need, and public life is the better for an educated population. Market pressure has pulled some of the sector toward a more commercial posture over the past two decades. The correction is to put public good back at the centre of every strategic decision, whether the institution is a Group of Eight giant or a single regional campus.
Global education as a public good, not just a business
International education is Australia's largest service export. Its real value is not the revenue. Every overseas student or research partner is a connection between Australia and the world, and those connections do work that money cannot buy: diplomacy, trust, and a generation of alumni who understand this country and speak for it.
So the job is to treat international students as people, not line items. Invest in their experience. Bring them fully into campus life and research. Build alumni networks that hold across continents and decades. Extend our reach abroad through genuine transnational partnerships rather than badge-selling.
Amid geopolitical uncertainty, that goodwill is worth more, not less. Educate students from across the Asia-Pacific and you seed the region with graduates who carry Australian thinking home. That is a return well beyond the balance sheet.
Educating for a lifetime, not just a degree
The one-degree-in-your-twenties model is finished. Work now demands that people retrain and upskill through their whole careers, as AI reshapes jobs and the economy moves to low-carbon industries. Universities hold the knowledge to make that possible, so they should be the ones who make it normal.
That means a shift in how we think about a degree. Instead of a one-time product, picture an academy of lifelong learning that a graduate belongs to for life. It is not a strange idea; accountants, doctors, and lawyers already have professional bodies that work this way. In practice it looks like flexible, stackable credentials: short courses, micro-credentials, professional certificates that people assemble as they need them. Policy is already moving here. The Universities Accord recommended a national skills passport and a big expansion of stackable qualifications. Picture the class of 2025 coming back in 2035 for a certificate in quantum computing, or in 2040 for a refresher in public health policy.
The public payoff is large. Workers stay current instead of falling behind. Universities become a resource people return to, not a place they leave at 22. Some institutions have started, with alumni short courses and digital badges, but a sector-wide commitment would be the real step, and it would keep faith with the public job of educating society, not one age group.
Research with real-world impact
Australia's universities are good at discovery. To serve the public, that discovery has to reach the people who can use it. Too often research has chased publication metrics while the country's real problems, from healthcare delivery to manufacturing, went unanswered. The fix is not to abandon basic research. It is to point a larger share of effort at problems that matter and to translate what we find into practice.
The numbers make the case. Every dollar invested in university research and development returns around $5 in economic benefit over time. New vaccines, medical devices, better farming, cleaner energy: the translation of research into use produces enormous public value. To get there, universities need to work much more closely with the people who apply research on the ground, through joint projects, on-campus innovation hubs, and researchers who move between the lab and industry. University scientists partnering with firms to develop mRNA vaccines is the model. It needs to become the norm, not the exception.
What we measure has to change too. Citations and grants are not the whole story. Patents filed, policies informed, startups spun out, communities served: these belong in how we judge academic success, and some universities are already writing "impact and engagement" into promotions. That tells scholars, plainly, that work which reaches the world is valued.
Smarter research infrastructure through collaboration
Serious research now needs serious kit: expensive instruments, large datasets, specialist facilities that no single university can keep buying alone. As public institutions, we have a duty to share rather than duplicate. Australia already does this well through the National Collaborative Research Infrastructure Strategy, which coordinates open-access national facilities from genomics labs to supercomputers. The lesson from NCRIS is simple. Pooled investment goes further.
So stop buying ten of everything. Fund one world-class facility that everyone can use. We already see it in astronomy with shared observatories, in marine science with research vessels, in high-performance computing. It should be standard. The same logic applies to data: shared repositories and analytic platforms matter more every year as AI moves to the centre of research. A scientist in Perth should be able to run an experiment on a machine in Melbourne, and a team split between Sydney and Brisbane should share data in real time.
Sharing facilities also mixes the people who use them. Multidisciplinary teams from different universities, CSIRO, and medical institutes end up working side by side, which is how the best ideas cross over. It takes trust and agreement on governance and cost, but that is exactly the kind of agreement public institutions are meant to reach in the national interest.
Embracing online education
The pandemic settled the argument about online learning. Done well, digital teaching at scale works. Campuses reopened after 2020-2021, but the shift stuck, and the old idea that online is the lesser option should go with it. To serve the public, online has to be a central pillar of teaching, not a bolt-on, because it reaches people the campus never could.
Think about who that reaches: the parent who cannot make a 2pm lecture, the rural or Indigenous student hours from the nearest campus, the mid-career professional who needs a flexible timetable, the international learner who cannot travel. Good online programs reach all of them without dropping quality, but only if we build for the medium: interactive courseware, virtual labs, adaptive tools, and real live discussion, not slides on a server.
Australia was an early mover in distance education, so this is familiar ground. The online campus should feel as alive and as important as the physical one. Blend the two and you can offer hybrid paths, two years online then one on campus, or the reverse, shaped around a student's life. A strong online pillar does not cannibalise the campus. It extends the university's reach and, done with care, advances equity, because a student in a small town can take the same course as one in the city.
Driving innovation and economic growth
Universities are economic engines, not only teaching institutions. Much of Australia's prosperity over recent decades traces back to university research and graduates. As the economy leans further into knowledge, universities should lean into the role of driving innovation and growth. That is not in tension with the public mission. A stronger economy with better jobs is the public interest.
To turn knowledge into use, universities have to get closer to the startup and business world. Most already run technology transfer offices, incubators, and seed funds; these should move from the edge to the core of strategy. The aim is a clear path from campus lab to market: when a researcher develops a new solar material or algorithm, the university can patent it, fund the next stage, bring in investors or government, and spin out a company. Not every discovery becomes a unicorn, and that is fine. The point is a culture that values practical application.
Universities can also anchor innovation precincts, clustering firms, researchers, and students together and using campus land for R&D parks and shared space. In the regions, a university can be the reason a new industry stays instead of draining to the capital. And the graduates themselves are the biggest economic contribution of all. Through work-integrated learning and industry-shaped curricula, universities can turn out people who create jobs rather than only seek them. The public is right to expect a return on what it invests, and we should welcome being held to it.
Using assets for the greater good
Universities are asset-rich. Not in cash, but in land, buildings, technology, data, and intellectual property, much of it underused. Putting those assets to work for the public is part of the job.
Take real estate. Universities sit on prime land across our cities and regions. Instead of treating campuses as closed academic islands, open them: startup incubators, libraries and auditoriums and sports centres available to the public after hours, affordable student and staff housing that lifts the surrounding neighbourhood. Some are already building innovation districts and cultural precincts with local councils and business.
Then there is intellectual property. Too many patents and inventions sit on a shelf for want of commercialisation capacity or appetite for risk. A public-first mindset treats useful IP as a chance to change lives, not a legal asset to guard. That means investing in the people who can do licensing deals and stand up startups around key patents, so the work reaches those who need it. Even teaching materials are an asset; some can be released openly to add to public knowledge without undermining the degrees that fund the place. The shift is from controlling assets to stewarding them for public use, within sensible limits. A university's wealth was entrusted to it by society. Using it well for the community is a direct extension of the public mission.
Earning public trust and shaping civic discourse
Universities are among our oldest and most durable institutions, charged not only with teaching and research but with holding to the truth and supporting honest debate. Amid misinformation, polarised politics, and falling confidence in institutions, that trust has to be earned and re-earned. The public grants universities their authority, and that grant is no longer automatic. It has to be validated by what they do.
So universities should act as honest brokers in public life. Put expertise into policy debates. When the country argues about climate or a pandemic, university scientists and economists should be front and centre with the evidence. Many already are, but institutions can do more to back them: media training, recognition for public writing and talks, town halls on the hard questions, short courses that lift public understanding on everything from AI ethics to constitutional reform.
Trust also runs on transparency. Be open about how money is used. Explain the reasons for big decisions. Hold to the highest standards in research and administration, so the public can see its confidence is well placed. And show the commitment in action, not only in statements: research and legal help offered to community organisations, support to government in a crisis, as many universities gave during COVID-19. The more a university is seen on the ground improving people's lives, the more indispensable it becomes, and the more it teaches its own students what civic responsibility looks like.
Engaging regions and communities equitably
For too long the benefits of our universities have pooled in the capital cities while many regional communities went short. If universities are public institutions for everyone, they have to reach past the metro centres. This is not only about satellite campuses, though those help. It is a sustained commitment to regional and community engagement as core business.
Start with access. I am a beneficiary of a regional university education; it was the making of my career, so I hold this view openly. A young person's chance at university should not turn on their postcode. Universities can work with government to put facilities in under-served areas so local students do not have to leave home, and where a full campus is not viable, partner with TAFEs and local learning centres for hybrid pathways. Recruitment and support should be built for rural and Indigenous students, with accommodation scholarships, mentoring, and bridging programs. These efforts line up with national targets to lift participation of under-represented groups by 2050.
Then do the research the regions actually need. Agriculture, mining, aquaculture, tourism: many of our key sectors are regional and have distinct problems to solve. Extension programs and field stations connect academic expertise to local challenges, helping a farmer trial drought-resistant crops or a country hospital adopt telehealth. A biologist studying biodiversity in the Daintree and an engineer working on inland solar microgrids are both advancing knowledge and lifting a community at once. Add cultural reach, travelling exhibitions, public lectures, school outreach, and you embed the university in the life of the place. The returns are large: slower brain drain, more local enterprise, better regional health and education. When a region thrives on knowledge and talent, the country does too. That makes regional investment a strategic imperative, not a kindness, and it is how universities earn the right to be universities of Australia, not just in Australia.
Leading on national and global challenges
Our era is defined by hard, connected problems: climate change, AI and automation, public health from pandemics to youth mental illness, cybersecurity, inequality, an ageing population. They are complex and urgent. If our universities will not help solve them, who will? The public university of this century has to see itself as a problem-solver working alongside government, industry, and international peers, not as a commentator on the sidelines.
Take climate. Universities should stay at the front of research into renewable energy, adaptation, and conservation, and they should decarbonise their own campuses to show it can be done. They hold the expertise; turning it into policy and action is a direct public service. By coordinating nationally and advising governments with one clear voice on the urgency, they can shift Australia's response. They also have to train the workforce a low-carbon economy needs, from renewable-energy engineers to environmental lawyers.
On the digital front, AI is both an opportunity and a risk. Universities should lead in building the technology and in setting the ethics around it. Computer science working with philosophy and law can produce AI ethics teaching and research, so Australia turns out experts who are also responsible. As AI spreads through every field, curricula across the board need digital literacy and clear thinking about technology built in. Healthcare is just as central. The pandemic showed how much depends on strong medical research and training pipelines. We train the doctors, nurses, and public health experts, and expanding those programs, including for under-served regions, is how we meet future demand. Research should keep tackling the diseases of our region, improving care through health economics and policy, and partnering with hospitals on trials. The youth mental health crisis is a case for campus research centres that also pilot community interventions. And because most of these problems cross borders, our universities have to collaborate internationally, joining global consortia on climate, health, and poverty and sharing what they find. Teach a student from the Asia-Pacific disaster management or sustainable agriculture, and they take resilience home with them. That is knowledge diplomacy with real effect. Universities should choose big problems as deliberately as they choose disciplines. Lives saved, ecosystems kept, technology turned to human benefit: that is the public good, and meeting it will define the legacy of Australian higher education this century.
Future-proofing governance and accountability
None of this happens without universities becoming faster and sharper than they have been. Many still run on structures built for another era. To handle rapid change, they have to modernise governance and find the balance between public accountability and quick decisions.
It starts with purpose. University councils should name the public mission as the standard for every decision, and that should flow into the plans and the measures set for vice-chancellors. The metrics cannot be only money and enrolment. They have to include public impact: community engagement, equity outcomes, research translation. Judge leaders on public value and they will lead for it. The message runs right through the organisation: serving the public is everyone's job.
Governance also has to be able to move. Waiting twelve to eighteen months for a committee to approve a new idea is too slow when technology and student expectations shift in a season. Universities can delegate some approvals to small teams with a mandate to experiment under oversight, and pilot-and-evaluate rather than chase perfect consensus. They proved they can move fast in the pandemic, shifting thousands of courses online in weeks. Move like that on reform and governments may grant more flexibility in return. Agility does not mean less accountability. Universities remain stewards of public money and trust. It means cutting red tape and backing leadership, so that when the next shock comes, financial or technological or social, the institution can pivot and keep its public mission intact.
Collaboration over competition
The thread through all of this is that working together multiplies the impact. Universities have long competed for students, rankings, and grants, sometimes at the expense of the bigger picture. Competition can drive excellence, but in a system as small as ours, cut-throat rivalry is often self-defeating. Widening access, building shared infrastructure, taking on the grand challenges: most of it is beyond any single institution.
So collaborate at every level. At home, share resources and stop duplicating. We have talked about shared facilities; it extends to co-developed courses students can take across universities for credit, joint appointments, and coordinated outreach so every region is covered without everyone crowding the same city market. Government and industry would rather deal with a sector that offers united solutions than a scrum of institutions each pushing its own barrow, and unified advocacy is far harder to ignore. Abroad, alliances let mid-sized Australian universities punch above their weight, through co-hosted research centres and dual degrees that widen everyone's reach. Working with Pacific Island universities on climate adaptation research, or training health professionals jointly with our neighbours, builds goodwill and meets our responsibility as a developed nation.
We could go further. A shared national platform for high-demand courses, so a student anywhere can learn from the best instructors in the country. Cluster hiring, where several universities together attract a group of global experts and place each at a different institution while funding their joint network. These ideas would have looked radical not long ago. The point is to move collaboration from the margins to the centre of how universities work. Competition will not vanish, and it need not. But the balance needs resetting, and when a vice-chancellor's standing rests as much on what they built with others as on what their institution won alone, everyone gains. Students and the public never ask which university solved a problem. They ask whether it was solved.
Conclusion: a public-first future
Repositioning the sector is a big job, but the test is simple. In every strategy meeting, every budget call, every new proposal, ask one question: are we serving the public good? Treat universities as public institutions first and businesses second, and the choices that follow secure both their own future and their value to the country.
Growth and change are not optional; the world is moving too fast to stand still. But growth in service of mission is the line to hold. In that future, Australian universities in 2035 and 2050 are more open, more connected, and more useful than they have ever been. They educate a larger and more varied share of the population, because they have embraced lifelong learning and many ways in. Their reach runs deep into global networks while staying rooted in local communities. The research they produce drives industries and improves lives, backed by shared infrastructure and by funding that no longer bends academic priorities out of shape. Technology lowers barriers instead of raising them. Their people, buildings, and ideas are stewarded for the greatest public return. And they stand as trusted institutions, convening the conversations that matter and speaking plainly when it counts.
The pieces are already moving. Policy is aligning, public awareness is growing, and a new generation of staff and students wants the change. The work is to connect those pieces into one strategy with public purpose at its centre. Our universities were built as institutions of and for the people. By recommitting to that, they secure not only their own growth but the progress of the country they exist to serve. A stronger, fairer Australia depends on it, and that success will be measured not in ledgers or rankings but in the knowledge, equity, and opportunity our universities deliver for everyone.