In a small classroom at the Polytechnic University of Milan, six students sit around a table and, in slow, hesitant English, discuss the answers to a true-or-false test on various customs around the world.
“Number 19 is false,” says Kaya Lacki, an English-language instructor from the United States with red, spiky hair. “Because if you’ve ever been on holiday in the U.S., you should tip a taxi.”
“Teep is ...?” asks a confused student.
Such struggles are common for those learning English as a second language, but the success of Ms. Lacki’s class is key to this prestigious institution, which is often referred to as Italy’s MIT. The students are actually university administrators and librarians, and the class is part of a controversial effort to make English not only the primary language of instruction for all graduate and many undergraduate courses, but also a main language spoken on the campus.
Across continental Europe, more classes are being taught in English to better prepare students for a global work force and to attract more foreign students. But such moves have brought fierce opposition. Recently, a bill that would allow French universities to increase the number of courses taught in English spurred a debate in that country.
In May the Polytechnic University of Milan, which enrolls almost 40,000 engineering, science, urban-planning, and architecture students, faced a similar obstacle after a regional administrative court ruled against its switch to English, saying the plan “dramatically limited the freedom of teaching and the right to study.” The ruling came in the wake of a petition by professors at the university who opposed the move. It was signed by 234 out of the roughly 1,400 faculty members.
Opponents of the switch argue that it limits access to education and introduces “an element of linguistic discrimination” against university employees. They also oppose what they see as its rushed introduction, a complaint that resonates even with those in favor of the change.
Just a short walk from Ms. Lacki’s classroom through the leafy urban campus, the person in charge of the linguistic overhaul sits at a round glass table. Rector Giovanni Azzone, a compact 51-year-old in a gray suit, says that the shift to English is a core part of a strategy aimed at preserving the university’s leading position in Italy. He has allocated almost $4-million to pay for English instructors and other changes required by the plan.
“A few years ago, if you were a good Italian pupil fond of engineering, it was common for you to choose to come here,” says Mr. Azzone, in accented but easy-to-understand English, which he learned in private classes. “What’s changed now is that the general climate in Europe is one of dissatisfaction. It’s really pessimistic. At present, Italian young people of best quality are thinking to go abroad. So either we create an international environment here assuring them that they will be able to work in Italy and the rest of the world or we will decrease our captive market.”
‘Not Everyone Is Willing’
While two undergraduate programs and numerous graduate-level classes were already offered in English, in 2012 the process toward a full conversion began in earnest. Almost 300 professors and researchers, along with 238 people on the support staff, started attending weekly English classes, which were to continue to 2015.
Back in Ms. Lacki’s class, the administrators and librarians express mixed feelings about the process.
“I’m very happy working at the Politecnico, and I love the students, but sometimes I don’t agree with the rector,” says Amalia Grazioli, who has worked in the registrar’s office for the past 35 years. Ms. Grazioli speaks in tentative English, turning often to ask the instructor to translate words for her. “This is like an imposition. The method for me is no good. We study here only once a week. It’s not enough.”
Ms. Grazioli’s classmates also say they worry that even after the lessons, they probably won’t be fluent enough in English to assist foreign students. Ms. Lacki agrees with her students and says that without more-intense lessons, she doubts the students’ language skills will greatly improve.
“I have good groups, like this one, but not everyone is willing,” says Ms. Lacki. “Some people feel like they’re obliged as they sit and don’t really participate, and it’s like pulling teeth.”
A Better Way?
Indeed, it’s what some describe as the coercive nature of the switch that seems to provoke the most resentment. Hans de Wit, director of the Center for Higher Education Internationalization at the Catholic University of the Sacred Heart, in Milan, says the resistance could have been avoided.
“I think that in taking such a strong position, Rector Azzone has created enemies,” says Mr. de Wit. “If he’d gradually developed consensus by focusing on those professors, administrators, and students who want the change, then he would probably have been much more successful, rather than creating a fear that everyone has to speak English at a certain level.”
Nonetheless, Mr. de Wit calls the Italian court decision “a shock,” given that the petition came from a small percentage of the faculty. He also says the ruling will have a negative impact on the further development of teaching in English in Italian higher education.
Still, many students enrolled at the university say the promise of access to a larger job market overrides concerns about how the change to English is being handled.
Andrea Damiani, a master’s student in computer engineering, supports the change, likening English to Latin in the Roman era. He says he just wishes the professors could speak it better. Nearby, Javier Hualpa, an Argentine who is also working on his master’s in computer engineering, nods his head. In order to be accepted, he says, international students had to prepare for the demanding standardized test of English as a foreign language. “Then when I hear the professors speak English in class, I think, you didn’t pass the Toefl exam!” he says, laughing.
While proponents of English-language teaching describe those issues as bumps on the road, others say they speak to the central problem of abandoning a country’s native tongue to the tide of globalization.
One of Italy’s most vocal opponents of the change to English is Giorgio Pagano, an architect and secretary general of the Esperanto Radical Association, a group that supports linguistic diversity and opposes English as the world’s lingua franca.
Mr. Pagano describes the switch to English in Italian universities as nothing short of “linguistic occupation” and a costly cultural “suicide mission.” Inflammatory rhetoric aside, he points out the switch comes with a huge price tag for a university system already buckling under the strain of budget cuts. He adds that sectors such as Italian textbook publishing also suffer as a result.
But like many across continental Europe who oppose the introduction of English in universities, Mr. Pagano describes his concerns as primarily cultural: He argues that by teaching certain subjects in English, rich cultural traditions will be literally lost in translation.
“If Italian architects are still valued in the world today, it’s because they’re part of a hallowed Italian tradition of excellence that includes Borromini, Michelangelo, Brunelleschi, and so on,” says Mr. Pagano. “So what sense is there in teaching this great tradition in basic English? The world is interested in great Italian architects, not mediocre ones who speak low-level English.”
Mr. Azzone, the rector, insists the switch to English is the only option for institutions such as his to retain Italy’s best and brightest. “If an institution in Italy wants to be high quality, it’s not conceivable now to focus only on the national market. It’s just too risky.”
However, with the recent court decision, the risk is more real than ever. Mr. Azzone plans to meet with the university senate in early June, when they are likely to decide to appeal.
