More than half of Australia’s universities dropped in global rankings this week.

Individual results always bounce around. But this drop, via the Centre for World University Rankings, suggests the decline of Australia’s standing in many global rankings systems is more than a blip.

Centre for World University Rankings president Nadim Mahassen warned

Australian universities are struggling to deliver high-quality education, attract and retain talent, and produce quality research at scale.

Mahassen explained this is “not just an academic problem” but one that undermines Australia’s “long-term future”.

The rankings also follow a high-profile opinion piece by academic Kylie Moore-Gilbert, who wrote last week how she had told her teenage stepdaughter to think twice about going to uni:

right now kids are taking on tens of thousands of dollars in debt to have a terrible campus experience while being graded on who can write the best AI prompts.

What’s going on?

What are rankings and what did they show?

Global university rankings aim to evaluate all universities in the world through a single framework. Each ranking system has a slightly different focus and methodology.

The Centre for World University Rankings measured more than 20,000 universities globally on four factors: education, employability of graduates, number of faculty members who have received top academic distinctions, and research output.

Of the 39 Australian universities included in the exercise, 14 improved their rank compared with last year, four stayed the same and 21 dropped.

Four Australian institutions made it into the top 100. While this number is the same as last year, the Australian National University and University of Sydney fell a few places, to numbers 93 and 100 respectively. The University of New South Wales and the University of Melbourne held the top spots for Australian universities at 52 and 64 respectively, with no change from last year.

June is the start of global “rankings season”, so we will soon see whether these trends continue to hold.

Other high-profile global rankings include those by QS Quacquarelli Symonds, Shanghai Ranking and the Times Higher Education.

A drop but not a shock

Last year, we saw some similar downward trends in Australia’s rankings, which university commentators described as a “wake-up call” for the sector.

So this year’s decline will not be a shock to anyone who works at an Australian university. Administrators also know the rankings can move around from year to year.

However, it is harder to brush off this year’s results. As media reports noted, universities have “tumbled” in rankings after a “scandal-plagued year”. It also follows an increased propensity to label the Australian higher education sector as being in “crisis”.

This label is tied to criticisms that unis are being run like profit-focused businesses, instead of places of education and aspiration, research and development, and civic engagement for the good of the community.

Indeed, as the rankings were released, Mahassen also cautioned Australia’s poor result reflected years of inadequate funding and the “devaluation of science and education as public goods”.

Amid criticisms of universities operating like corporate entities it is important to note federal funding to the sector (not including for HECS/HELP) has declined in recent decades, from 0.9% of GDP in 1995 to 0.6% of GDP in 2021.

Constant concerns

Universities have certainly been making headlines for the wrong reasons in recent years.

Concerns about university executives’ behaviour and pay have become regular stories.

On top of this, we have had a year-long Senate inquiry into university governance, which revealed a lack of transparency about spending on services such as consultancies. Labor senator Tony Sheldon criticised universities for

[taking money] out of the pocket of taxpayers and not going into better services for our students.

These issues have been exacerbated by both threatened and actual cuts to operations and jobs at many universities. This comes amid underpayment cases and precarious work conditions for many academics.

As the late professor Graeme Turner argued in his 2025 book, the Australian university system is “broken and urgently needs fixing”.

---

Read more: There is declining trust in Australian unis. Federal government policy is a big part of the problem

---

What are students paying for?

Some Australian undergraduates are taking on huge levels of debt to go to university.

The Job-ready Graduates scheme restructured university fees in 2021 under the Morrison government. It lowered fees in some areas, such as teaching and nursing, while massively increasing the cost of degrees in humanities fields. Despite widespread criticism of the scheme, the Labor government has not scrapped it. Arts degrees now cost more than A$50,000.

These huge costs comes amid moves to reduce in-person lectures and tutorials at some universities.

It also comes as universities – in Australia and around the world – grapple with the rise of AI and what this means for assessments, cheating and the quality of student learning.

No wonder some are questioning whether an expensive uni education is worth it.

The international student factor

But it is not just domestic undergraduate fees and poor executive management that are mixed up in the issues facing our universities.

Rankings are particularly important tools for international student recruitment. Prospective students look closely at the rankings and research and teaching reputations of various unis. A drop in rankings could mean students look to other countries in the competitive global market for the international student dollar.

That dollar is important to Australia. International students have become a crucial funding source for programs and research in our universities. For example, in 2024, Western Sydney University used 24 cents from every dollar an international student pays to subsidise domestic students, research and student services.

Overall, higher education expenditure on research and development reached $16.4 billion in 2024. More than half, around $8.6 billion, came primarily from $13 billion in international education earnings.

As the Group of Eight (which represents the country’s prestigious research universities) notes – inadequate research funding from other sources has led to their reliance on international student fee revenue to cross-subsidise research.

Any loss of income caused by a drop in international student enrolments also impacts Australia’s economy more broadly. International students are now Australia’s largest services export market. The sector was worth $53.6 billion in 2024–25.

What now?

Despite the turmoil around universities, surveys show Australians continue to have higher confidence in universities than in many other institutions, including the federal government.

They have also shown their support for unis facing cuts – such as public opposition to the proposed cuts to the ANU School of Music last year.

This suggests there is some community goodwill towards universities – but we can’t take it for granted. Nor can we take universities themselves for granted.

As Mahassen said, this is not just an academic problem. If our universities are not functioning well, it spills out into the rest of our society, economy and beyond.

Kylie Message works for the Australian National University, which dropped in the rankings discussed in this piece.

The “world first museum of AI arts” is scheduled to open next month in a 35,000 square feet purpose-built facility in downtown Los Angeles.

Dataland is the brainchild of Refik Anadol and Efsun Erkiliç, artists known for using artificial intelligence and vast datasets to create large-scale immersive art projects.

The “living museum” will present a continuously evolving immersive, audiovisual experience based on millions of images, sounds and scents from nature. As an indication of what it will be like, Dataland’s website presents phantasmagorical images of ecological wonder and awe.

Anadol says he wants Dataland to

develop a new paradigm of what a museum can be, by fusing human imagination with machine intelligence and the most advanced technologies available.

But behind its futuristic facade and the fleeting cultural landscapes hosted inside, the museum has much deeper historical roots.

The birth of the museum

A clear connection exists between the aspirations and dreams of Dataland’s founders and the 19th century fascination with emerging technologies. Large-scale exhibitions promised new forms of public spectacle and commercialised entertainment.

The Crystal Palace exhibition was held in London in 1851. Its purpose-built glass and iron building was considered a technological marvel.

Visited by over six million people, it was designed to promote Britain as an industrial power.

It showcased more than 100,000 objects from around the globe. These included locomotives, hydraulic presses, agricultural products and musical instruments. Its most famous item was the world’s largest-known diamond, acquired from India two years earlier for Queen Victoria.

The “midway” at the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair was famous for its exhilarating amusements and living exhibits.

Premier attractions were the world’s first Ferris wheel and the world’s first commercial movie theatre. It also featured human display villages, or “human zoos”, that reinforced racist colonial hierarchies.

This era kicked off the modern public museum movement in Europe and the United States. Early museums were rooted in Enlightenment ideals of industrial and technological progress, civic education and national identity.

Museums including the South Kensington Museum (1857) and the Smithsonian’s Graphic Arts Department (1897) extended visitor fascination with new technologies such as cinema and railway travel, and sold mass-produced souvenirs of exotic and intriguing cultures.

Just as we today express conflicted views about AI-generated art, 19th-century audiences needed to learn how to respond to new cultural forms. Entertainment was key.

They quickly learnt viewing motion pictures was a social and public activity, improved if they suspended disbelief and expressed individual reactions.

The most well-known (albeit exaggerated) account describes an 1895 screening of a Lumière Brothers film. As the moving image of a train seemingly hurtled toward the audience, viewers are said to have screamed and ducked under seats.

Global exploitation

There is a darker side to the 19th-century precursors of Dataland.

The project’s dataset is a large nature model (LNM) – an open-source model trained on half a billion images sourced “ethically” from partner institutions including the Smithsonian in Washington, DC, and London’s Natural History Museum.

These images are complemented by data gathered by Anadol’s team from 16 rainforests “from Chile to Indonesia to Australia”.

Dataland’s website does not provide provenance information about partner institution’s source collections. But we know they would likely include 19th century specimens.

Natural history collecting was a lucrative industry in the 19th century. The increasing ease with which people and commodities were able to travel the world expanded supply chains and the global industry of specimen transfer.

Museum collecting was deeply entangled with the violent, systemic processes of European imperialism, colonial expansion and scientific exploitation.

Dataland promotes its “permission-based” approach to using data from institutions. It cites contemporary collaboration with the Yawanawá people of the Amazon as “radically responsible”.

It also insists it manages the environmental impact of the museum’s consumption of natural resources.

But Dataland does not appear to apply its own ethical standards for producing collections from rainforests to the vast historical resources it sources from its partner museums.

It is silent on the obligations it may have to contemporary descendants of communities from which specimens and knowledge were extracted. It provides no guardrails about appropriate cultural protocols or safeguards for anyone wanting to access or learn more about any of its collections.

This approach is out of step with the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. The declaration enshrines the rights of Indigenous peoples to self-determination over their data. This includes traditional knowledge and ownership over natural resources.

Many of the kinds of institutions Dataland has partnered with are now seeking to repair the loss of Indigenous knowledge, cultural heritage and authority caused by colonial collecting.

The Natural Sciences Collections Association UK explains this reparative work is

proactive in telling hidden truths however difficult, about how we got our collections – [we must] acknowledge we have them, but at what cost?

The lack of transparency and self-awareness regarding the large nature model’s use of historical collection materials is a significant oversight. It echoes criticism that AI art does not adequately seek human consent or offer credit or compensation for contemporary art.

Dataland is a museum of the future. But it cannot outrun the historical and very human legacies of the form it has chosen to align itself with – the museum.

Kylie Message does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.