Students from disadvantaged backgrounds and students who are the first in their families to attend college are at heightened risk to leave school without a degree. It's not a matter of students coming to school inadequately prepared--something else is at work (e.g., Steele, 1997). It's not merely disheartening for these students, there can be potentially grave financial repercussions for dropping out. 

Most colleges and universities have programs meant to help students with the process of transitioning, and they often focus on practical skills like choosing classes and study strategies on the assumption that navigating academic life is a significant part of the problem.

In the last few years researchers have focused on a quite different approach: offering students a "lay theory" of the college experience. A lay theory is a set of beliefs that are used to interpret one's experiences. In the case of college, two beliefs have been flagged as especially important: that the transition to college inevitably involves setbacks, and that these setbacks are temporary.

College always includes disappointments, both academic and social. A student fails a test, or a callous professor tells them that their writing is beyond hope. (My freshman year of college an English professor wrote this as the entire comment on my exam essay: "No. D" Students get lonely, and have trouble making friends.  For students who grew up in families where it was always assumed that they would attend college, such disappointments are dispiriting, but not threatening. The student may even wonder if he or she belongs in college, but that doubt likely doesn't last. For a student who did not grow up in an environment where it was taken for granted that they would graduate college that doubt may persist. They may think that they are not smart enough to succeed, that they are "not college material," or that their cultural background is not compatible with college. 

Researchers have sought ways to instill a lay theory of college that would change that interpretation, focusing on two ideas: setbacks in college are common  (and therefore should not be taken as a sign that you don't belong) and setbacks are temporary (so things will get better). 

Researchers have had some success with this intervention in smaller experiments (Stephens et al, 2014; Walton & Cohen, 2011. Now a new study (Yeager et al, 2016) suggests that a simple, inexpensive intervention works at scale. 

Before they matriculated at college, students participated in an activity taking just 30 minutes, administered over the Internet. They were told that it was to help them think about the transition to college, and that they would have the chance to share their experiences, perhaps helping future students. 

There were three experimental conditions. The social belonging condition provided information showing that feeling out of place is common in the transition to college, but most students do make friends and succeed academically. The growth mindset condition provided information showing that intelligence is malleable, and that student can succeed with effort, coupled with effective strategies. The third condition combined both strategies. In each case, students were asked to write an essay about how the information they read might apply to them, as a way of cementing the information in memory, and to help them imagine making it applicable to their own experience.

One experiment targeted the entering class of a large public university. As shown in the table below, the intervention improved retention. All three of the intervention conditions were equally effective. 

Another experiment administered the intervention at a selective private university. The figure shows that disadvantaged students receiving the intervention earned higher GPAs in their first year of college 

Consistent with the theory, advantaged students don't benefit from the intervention; they already believe that they can succeed at college, and that they belong there, so their lay theory of college is likely already similar to the one described in the intervention.

Two things are noteworthy about this experiment. First, the reduction in the achievement gap is quite sizable, on the order of 30-40%. Second, this intervention was remarkably brief, and remarkably inexpensive. Obviously this work needs to be replicated and the interventions fine-tuned. (The growth mindset intervention didn't really work in Experiment 1.) But if this finding holds up, it must be counted as a huge success for social scientists, and for David Yeager and Greg Walton in particular. 

This column originally appeared at RealClearEducation on May 27, 2014.
Is college worth the high cost? After all, everyone knows a college degree doesn’t guarantee a good job—English majors all work at McDonalds, right? This lore is gaining acceptance (see discussion of the “college bubble” here and here, for example) but a new review in Science (Autor, 2014) marshals data suggesting that it’s dead wrong. 

College graduates not only continue to make more than non-graduates, the education-wage premium is increasing. It has risen in most advanced economies, and nowhere more than the US. In fact the difference between the median incomes of high school graduates and college graduates in 1979 was about $17,400 (in 2012 dollars). In 2012 it had doubled to around $35,000. (Autor doesn’t cite these data, but a 2013 OECD report also suggested that unemployment rose much less for college graduates during the recent recession.)

The income difference is not an artifact of the wild increases among the top 1% of earners. As Autor emphasizes, wage inequality has increased across the spectrum of incomes and is well represented among the “other 99%.” He cites various studies suggesting that 60% or so of the increasing difference in US wages is due to the increase in the education-wage premium. Other factors contributing to the difference include the decline (in real dollars) of income for high school graduates, the declining influence of trade unions, the rise in automation and subsequent loss of jobs calling for minimal cognitive skills, and competition for those jobs in the developing world.

Autor makes the case that these seemingly disparate factors can come together into a relatively simple model of supply and demand. Since the 1980’s the number of people getting a college education has increased, but the rate of increase has slowed, relative to earlier decades. Hence, the supply of people with the cognitive skill set afforded by education was expanding, but at a slow pace. Meanwhile, the percentage of jobs requiring that skill set was increasing at a much faster pace, as low skill jobs were exported or automated. The market responded to supply and demand: wages for college graduates skyrocketed because there were not enough of them; wages for high school graduates declined (in real dollars) because there was a glut of such workers, relative to the need.

As Richard Murnane (who often collaborates with Autor) has argued for decades, there is every reason to think that these employment trends will continue; jobs that require modest cognitive skill yet pay living wages will not return to the United States economy.

So yes, college is worth it—or better, obtaining cognitive skill that is demonstrable to employers is worth it. The promise of obtaining them outside of the usual educational route (via MOOCs, for example) is still a work in progress.

For educators and education researchers, this conclusion doesn’t change much of what we’ve been trying to do, as we already believed in the importance of education for individual economic promise. Autor’s analysis offers data should we care to take on skeptics, and adds urgency (if any was needed) to the work.

What aspects of background, personality, or achievement predict success in college--at least, "success" as measured by GPA?

A recent meta-analysis (Richardson, Abraham, & Bond, 2012) gathered articles published between 1997 and 2010, the products of 241 data sets. These articles had investigated these categories of predictors:

• three demographic factors (age, sex, socio-economic status)
  
• five traditional measures of cognitive ability or prior academic achievement (intelligence measures, high school GPA, SAT or ACT, A level points)
  
• No fewer than forty-two non-intellectual measures of personality, motivation, or the like, summarized into the categories shown in the figure below (click for larger image).
  

Make this fun. Try to predict which of the factors correlate with college GPA.

Let's start with simple correlations.

41 out of the 50 variables examined showed statistically significant correlations. But statistical significance is a product of the magnitude of the effect AND the size of the sample--and the samples are so big that relatively puny effects end up being statistically significant. So in what follows I'll mention correlations of .20 or greater.

Among the demographic factors, none of the three were strong predictors. It seems odd that socio-economic status would not be important, but bear in mind that we are talking about college students, so this is a pretty select group, and SES likely played a significant role in that selection. Most low-income kids didn't make it, and those who did likely have a lot of other strengths.

The best class of predictors (by far) are the traditional correlates, all of which correlate at least r = .20 (intelligence measures) up to r = .40 (high school GPA; ACT scores were also correlated r = .40).

Personality traits were mostly a bust, with the exception of consientiousness (r = .19), need for cognition (r = .19), and tendency to procrastinate (r = -.22). (Procrastination has a pretty tight inverse relationship to conscientiousness, so it strikes me as a little odd to include it.)

Motivation measures were also mostly a bust but there were strong correlations with academic self-efficacy (r = .31) and performance self-efficacy (r = .59). You should note, however, that the former is pretty much like asking students "are you good at school?" and the latter is like asking "what kind of grades do you usually get?" Somewhat more interesting is "grade goal" (r = .35) which measures whether the student is in the habit of setting a specific goal for test scores and course grades, based on prior feedback.

Self-regulatory learning strategies likewise showed only a few factors that provided reliable predictors, including time/study management (r = .22) and effort regulation (r = .32), a measure of persistence in the face of academic challenges.

Not much happened in the Approach to learning category nor in psychosocial contextual influences.

We would, of course, expect that many of these variables would themselves be correlated, and that's the case, as shown in this matrix.

So the really interesting analyses are regressions that try to sort out which matter more.

The researchers first conducted five hierarchical linear regressions, in each case beginning with SAT/ACT, then adding high school GPA, and then investigating whether each of the five non-intellective predictors would add some predictive power. The variables were conscientiousness, effort regulation, test anxiety, academic self efficacy, and grade goal, and each did, indeed, add power in predicting college GPA after "the usual suspects" (SAT or ACT, and high school GPA) were included.

But what happens when you include all the non-intellective factors in the model?

The order in which they are entered matters, of course, and the researchers offer a reasonable rationale for their choice; they start with the most global characteristic (conscientiousness) and work towards the more proximal contributors to grades (effort regulation, then test anxiety, then academic self-efficacy, then grade goal).

As they ran the model, SAT and high school GPA continued to be important predictors. So were effort regulation and grade goal.

You can usually quibble about the order in which variables were entered and the rationale for that ordering, and that's the case here.  As they put the data together, the most important predictors of college grade point average are: your grades in high school, your score on the SAT or ACT, the extent to which you plan for and target specific grades, and your ability to persist in challenging academic situations.

There is not much support here for the idea that demographic or psychosocial contextual variables matter much. Broad personality traits, most motivation factors, and learning strategies matter less than I would have guessed.

No single analysis of this sort will be definitive. But aside from that caveat, it's important to note that most admissions officers would not want to use this study as a one-to-one guide for admissions decisions. Colleges are motivated to admit students who can do the work, certainly. But beyond that they have goals for the student body on other dimensions: diversity of skill in non-academic pursuits, or creativity, for example.

When I was a graduate student at Harvard, an admissions officer mentioned in passing that, if Harvard wanted to, the college could fill the freshman class with students who had perfect scores on the SAT. Every single freshman-- 800, 800. But that, he said, was not the sort of freshman class Harvard wanted.

I nodded as though I knew exactly what he meant. I wish I had pressed him for more information.

References:
Richardson, M., Abraham, C., Bond, R. (2012). Psychological correlates of university students' academic performance: A systematic review and meta-analysis. Psychological Bulletin, 138,  353-387.