Would “more” diversity make the international higher education sector better?

Would “more” diversity make the international higher education sector better?
Universities spend a great deal of time talking about international diversity. Yet in practice, despite repeated commitments to diversify international recruitment, budgets year after year remain focused on China and India, the two markets that supply the lion’s share of international students to major English-speaking destinations. As a recent Times Higher Education article notes, however, China is no longer the “student gold mine” it once was. Universities must adapt to shifting global dynamics if they hope to sustain and diversify their international student populations.
When policymakers and commentators discuss diversity in international education, it is often in terms of restricting students from certain countries. We have often made the point that diversity is not about less of anyone but more of everyone, and that truth still holds. Whilst to date, diversity has yet to be formally written into government policy, there are growing calls for universities’ student populations to mirror the national average, effectively turning every institution into a carbon copy of the other. But would this in fact lead to a healthier, more balanced sector?
Flattening every university campus into the same demographic mix would not create variety; it would create uniformity. The irony is that universities are already remarkably similar: similar institutions, offering similar courses at similar fees. For many years, one of the few visible differentiators has been the international make-up of their student bodies. In the absence of robust and representative graduate outcomes data for international students, that diversity has provided at least some sense of distinctiveness.
Yet if such policies were introduced, they would have major implications for university admissions teams. To maintain specific proportions of students from different markets, universities would need a forensic understanding of conversion rates from different markets in order not to fall foul of new boundaries, as would their agents, who already direct over 70% of students to Australian universities and more than 60% to UK universities. Such a move would be truly disruptive to agents globally.
The real casualty in all this would be international students. Restricting where they can study would further limit choice, especially at a time when students already struggle to access transparent data, particularly when it comes to return on investment. We are yet to find any university globally that can properly illustrate the ROI of their programmes with decent international graduate outcomes and destinations data for the major overseas source markets – China, India, ASEAN etc. Any move to constrain diversity further would only disadvantage students more. In truth, international students risk being the most affected, with choice removed rather than expanded, and placements determined more by nationality than by preference or ability.
The United Kingdom and Australia are useful case studies. According to HESA, the UK hosted 732,285 international students in 2023/24. Of these, India led with 166,890 students (22.7%), overtaking China on 150,590 (20.5%), followed by Nigeria (57,545; 7.9%), Pakistan (45,425; 6.2%) and the United States (23,210; 3.2%). Smaller but still significant contingents came from Hong Kong, Malaysia, Nepal, Bangladesh, Ireland, Saudi Arabia and France, with the remainder spread across more than 100 countries.
Table 1. International students in the UK by country of origin (HESA, 2023/24, total = 732,285)

In Australia, the Department of Education’s PRISMS data indicate that by late 2023, international student numbers continue to be heavily concentrated among a handful of key markets, with the top five countries accounting for well over half of all enrolments. China remains the largest source country (166,146; 23.59%), followed by India (125,255; 17.78%) and Nepal (62,036; 8.81%). Colombia (39,685; 5.63%) and the Philippines (35,485; 5.04%) also represent significant cohorts. Notable contributions come from Vietnam, Thailand, Brazil, Pakistan, Indonesia, Malaysia, Sri Lanka, Hong Kong, South Korea, Japan and Bangladesh, while a wide array of other countries collectively make up a further 9.23% of total enrolments.
Table 2. International students in Australia by country of origin (Department of Education PRISMS, 2023, total = 783,887)

If every university in both countries had to replicate these national balances precisely, the impact would be profound. The Group of Eight in Australia, which has historically attracted large numbers of Chinese postgraduates, would be forced to cut them back. Lower-tariff institutions, which have become lifelines for Indian, Nepalese and Bangladeshi students, would be told to restrict their strongest pipelines. In the UK, Russell Group universities that rely heavily on Chinese master’s students would be penalised for that success, while post-92 institutions with growing Nigerian and Pakistani cohorts would find themselves constrained. Instead of enhancing diversity, such rules would make every campus a carbon copy of each other’s.
Illustrative contrasts
- Australia (Go8 vs non-Go8): Go8 universities have, on average, recruited 30–40% of their international intake from China, while non-Go8 providers – especially regional universities and private colleges – are far more dependent on India, Nepal and Sri Lanka.
- United Kingdom (Russell Group vs post-92): Russell Group universities often see one in three master’s students from China, whereas some post-92s draw 40–50% of their international cohort from South Asia or Africa.
The character and atmosphere of universities would inevitably shift. Today, students choose institutions not only for their courses but for the communities they will join. Some are drawn to the strong Chinese societies found in certain Russell Group and Group of Eight universities; others to the vibrant Nigerian and Pakistani communities thriving in post-92 institutions, the Nepali networks in regional Australian universities, or the Gulf student groups clustered in particular cities. Flatten these variations into a national average and you erase meaningful choice. Diversity in our sector is not just about the number of nationalities represented; it is about the variety between campuses as much as within them.
Some argue that introducing quotas would reduce risk, given the sector’s heavy reliance on India and China. But institutional-level quotas would do little to solve systemic vulnerability. Instead, they would distort admissions, incentivise agents to game the system by diverting applicants to universities with remaining “quota headroom,” and penalise institutions for legitimate areas of specialisation. Most importantly, the student becomes the loser in all of this, stripped of freedom of choice, pigeon-holed into an institution they neither want nor choose, purely because of their nationality, and not their academic performance or career aspirations.
The better way to manage risk is through transparency: publish international graduate outcomes, support employability across borders, and encourage institutions to build partnerships in source countries. As I have argued in University World News and in my HEPI essay International Graduates and the New Employability Challenge, international education must be repositioned as a career investment, not a migration lottery.
Enforcement is another problem. In the UK, the Home Office would have to link CAS allocations to nationality mix, further entrenching immigration control in academic decision-making. In Australia, the Department of Home Affairs and the Department of Education would need to ration Confirmation of Enrolments by country. Both scenarios would hardwire political priorities into institutional recruitment, lessening university autonomy, creating volatility and undermining trust among families who already worry about hostile rhetoric.
So, would more diversity make the sector better? Not if diversity is defined as making every institution look alike. Real diversity lies in embracing difference, not constraining it, in letting some universities build on Chinese demand at postgraduate level, while others cultivate deeper roots in South Asia, Africa or the Middle East. Forcing every institution to be a carbon copy would not solve the employability crisis, nor reduce the political risks international education faces. And it would also erase one of the last distinguishing features in a sector where institutions already look remarkably similar, offering similar courses at similar fees. In truth, the only meaningful way for universities to differentiate in the years ahead will be by publishing robust international graduate outcomes data and proving the employability of their students. Restricting choices further, when students already lack the evidence they most need, would handicap them once again. Students, who should be at the centre of the system, risk being the ones who lose the most.