Chapter 40 Arrival of the Examinees
Was enrolling 800 students really a lot? Arthur could only say—it wasn't, not at all.
Compared to universities in later generations that regularly enrolled tens of thousands of students, for the Australian National University—the only university in the country—800 admissions was a very modest number.
But that had to be judged in light of Australia's population. Currently, the entire country had just over 3.7 million people, and the number of high school graduates aged 18 to 30 suitable for university enrollment was even smaller. It was possible that the whole of Australia couldn't even gather 10,000 eligible students.
"Principal Wilfred Freeman Weinberg, how many applicants do you estimate will sign up this time? Will it be enough to meet the enrollment target?" Arthur asked.
Enrollment targets still had to be backed by application numbers. If too few applied, setting the target too high would be pointless—and potentially embarrassing.
"Your Highness, according to our estimates and the Education Ministry's data, there are about 21,000 Australians of proper age who have completed high school. After excluding those with stable, high-paying jobs, fewer than 10,000 remain as potential applicants. Under normal circumstances, at least 1,000 should apply. But if Your Highness endorses the program, that number could easily multiply," said Wilfred Freeman Weinberg, subtly suggesting that Arthur publicly encourage eligible Australians to apply.
"Hahaha, that's fine. All of you are experts in education, and you know better than anyone that talent must be refined. I want you to select around 1,000 of the most outstanding candidates from the applicants and cultivate them well—they will be the backbone of Australia in the years ahead," Arthur laughed, giving his approval.
"Your Highness, we must also consider whether the applicants' families can afford the high cost of university. I believe the royal family and the government should cover most of the expenses; otherwise, many students may be forced to drop out midway," Wilfred added, pressing his advantage.
As an experienced academic leader, Wilfred had spent most of his life serving as principal or dean at major institutions across the British Empire.
Now brought to Australia with a generous salary, he had only one request: to have a say in the university's development.
Arthur didn't mind. Professional matters were best left to professionals. Although he had extensive knowledge and experience from the future, he knew that a qualified monarch should delegate authority effectively.
"No problem. The royal family will cover 70% of tuition costs, and the remaining 30% will also be fronted by the royal family for now. After graduation, the student's performance will determine whether that portion is waived," Arthur said with a smile.
Arthur wasn't being overly charitable. He was willing to waive part of the cost, but only part. The rest, paid upfront by the royal treasury, could be used to secure the students' loyalty and forge a closer bond with the monarchy. It was a subtle way of cultivating future talent for the royal family.
Wilfred saw through Arthur's strategy but did not object. His only goal was to turn the Australian National University into one of the world's top institutions. He didn't care much about anything else.
"In addition, the royal family will establish a Royal Scholarship within the university, granting at least 200 awards annually to outstanding students from poor families, with each scholarship valued at a minimum of ten pounds," Arthur added with a smile.
This announcement landed like a bombshell. In an era where university students were one in a million, such generosity was unheard of.
What made university so rare, aside from disparities in national education development, was the cost of tuition.
Everyone present was an expert in the field of education. They had heard of partial tuition waivers—but never of a system that practically paid students to attend.
Arthur had already waived the bulk of tuition and promised to cover the rest upfront. Now, he was also offering scholarships. Who wouldn't want to study in Australia?
And the cost to Arthur? Barely 2,000 pounds a year.
But this initiative would dramatically boost the university's appeal. With a one-in-four chance of winning a scholarship, many would be tempted to take a shot.
"Alright, those are the policies. You can adjust enrollment numbers based on the actual number of applicants. But do not exceed 1,500 or fall below 800. I will launch a public campaign to encourage Australians to apply. How you choose the best students from the crowd—that's up to you," Arthur concluded before leaving the meeting with his guards.
Once Arthur left, the room did not go quiet. Instead, the competition over enrollment quotas began immediately.
Although Arthur had capped overall enrollment, he hadn't set strict quotas for each department.
That meant departments could increase their numbers within reason, triggering fierce competition over who could admit the most students.
While teachers from the five departments battled over quotas, Arthur had already returned to his estate and begun preparing the public campaign.
Australia had newspapers—remnants from the former colonies—which Arthur had since unified under his control.
In this era, newspapers were the best tool for shaping public opinion. Controlling the press meant controlling the national narrative.
After all, in an age with little entertainment, the only way for people to access information was by buying—or borrowing—a newspaper.
(End of Chapter)
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