They were clearly disappointed with my answer. Not that I had expected it turn out any other way.
An agent aggregator company (AAC), with an incredibly large network of agents, had just briefed me on the LL.M. programs offered by one of their client law schools. The law school in question was new to the India market, and had turned to the AAC to build recruitments.
In our conversation, the AAC detailed the financial aid exclusively for enrolments via their platform, the law school’s rankings, and the various employment opportunities available. The last one was couched in particularly vague terms which, I suspect, would not survive much scrutiny.
And of course, the commission an agent could make.
Their question, which lies at the very heart of student recruitments, is how many Indian enrolments could be expected in the next twelve months.
My answer?
“Zero”.
Let me tell you why even if you, much like the AAC, did not ask.
Student recruitment is a long-term play – there are no shortcuts. Technology, social media, alumni networks, and outreach activities can and do help but they cannot guarantee outcomes.
What is required is the building of human connections. Which in turn requires a deeper understanding of (and care for) an applicant’s specific requirements. The human ability to assess and advise. A human empathy.
This takes time.
Of course, I also understand the quagmire that AAC’s find themselves in given that their very existence hinges on getting the maximum possible number of applicants, and their tuition fees, into the waiting arms of their client universities.
Do AAC’s really have the time or money, and hence inclination, to invest in building “human” resources?
For universities, AAC’s promise access to global network of agents, a reduction in recruitment costs, and a bump in tuition revenue. Which, apart from the truism of things that are too good to be true, also means lesser control over just how this recruitment takes place. Do universities really exercise control over what an AAC says, advertises or shares with potential applicants?
So, do universities care? Should they?
For an applicant, questions can arise over why an agent recommends one university over another. Are agents assigned for specific disciplines or is their knowledge more, for lack of a better word, inter-disciplinary in nature? How exactly does AI, and the objectivity it surely provides, reconcile with the fact that educational choices can be incredibly subjective.
Much like the stakeholders above, do applicant’s care? Should they?
These questions, and their answers, are far from simple. They encompass a tremendous range of issues, including the philosophical, regulatory, financial, and cultural.
And in these muddled and muddy waters lies the fact that there are very, very few student recruitment markets that are as ripe for capitalism as India’s. Not even China’s.
I suppose the question to be asked is whether in this mishmash of competing needs and wants, of cutting-edge technology and a future which is nearly here, is there a space for a human-to-human connection? Should there be?

Leave a comment