By Shimeon Lee, policy analyst
It’s always fascinating to see how some researchers interpret the word “minimum”. For most people, it refers to the basics: food, rent and transport. But in certain circles, the minimum has come to mean something quite different. In the latest example of its ever expanding definition, the Higher Education Policy Institute has produced the second edition of their “Minimum Income Standard for Students” report. It makes the extraordinary claim that students in England need £61,000 (£77,000 in London) to enjoy a minimum socially acceptable standard of living over the course of their degree, on top of their tuition fees.
With thousands of students receiving their GCSE results today and A-level results last week, these figures will undoubtedly be used to justify calls to increase the generosity of the student loan system. However, closer examination reveals that this “minimum” bears little resemblance to the common understanding of the term, encompassing a broad inventory of goods and activities that go well beyond the essentials.
Among the items needed to maintain this “minimum” with quote “no nice to haves” are a 40 inch television (split among flatmates), a Bluetooth speaker, wireless headphones, a full length mirror, fancy dress, mattress protector and topper, a weekend holdall (separate from an everyday backpack), as well as an “above-entry-level” laptop (with at least 8GB of RAM).
Naturally, the “minimum” also includes £520 a year on alcohol for pre-drinking (described as “very modest”), £300 on takeaway and £520 for food “on the go” - all of that on top of the actual budget for cooking at home. Of course, no “minimum” would be complete without a healthy dose of entertainment. £1,820 a year for things like gym memberships, Netflix and going to the pub, £200 for celebrations, and a four day three night weekend away (with an extra £100 to cover additional activities and eating out), and don’t forget £260 just for taxis.
Some of the more questionable inclusions are costs that only affect a minority of students but are treated as if they apply to everyone. For example, students will almost certainly already have a smartphone coming into university, yet the report includes the cost of a phone in its calculations, a phone that will be replaced after two years at that. Similarly, most students will have a suitcase, bedding and towels at home. Yet the report assumes these will all need to be purchased.
The authors call for a reset of the student maintenance support system, with their minimum standard as the central benchmark. In their model, a mix of maintenance loans, part-time work and parental contributions should be enough to meet this sum (presumably scholarships and bursaries would have to be included as well). They argue that maintenance loans need to be larger, although this should be done in a fiscally neutral way, paid for by higher interest rates on student loans.
While this seems reasonable, attentive readers will spot the sleight of hand. With only 56 per cent of undergraduates expected to pay back their loans in full, it quietly embeds the principle that the state should be responsible for underwriting not just the essentials of living and studying, but a host of non-essential spending as well. If interest rates on loans are raised even higher to account for this, the burden will fall on all graduates - regardless of whether they chose to live frugally or embraced the “minimum” lifestyle set out in the report. It is right that graduates pay for the cost of their degree, but it is unreasonable to expect them to subsidise the lifestyles of others.
There is value in calculating the typical costs of university life. It can help parents and students weigh their options and make informed decisions. That’s especially true as the next generation of undergraduates open their exam results and weigh up whether to commit to three years of higher education.
However, presenting these figures as a “minimum” risks creating confusion among audiences who do not read beyond the headlines and may lead to politicians feeling compelled to respond based on an inflated view of student living costs. Most people will agree that the state should play a role in ensuring no student goes without the basics, but that instinctive generosity should not be exploited to push for a much more expansive vision of university life underwritten by taxpayers, or to pressure politicians into spending even more than they already do.