Professor Tom Harrison
Before we can determine how to educate effectively in a rapidly changing world, we must first be clear about what it is that those of us working in universities are actually seeking to educate for.
At a recent higher education conference on ‘Learning to be Human in the Age of AI’, I was struck by the semantic minefield of terms used to describe what a full and rich university education should encompass today. This lack of clarity often led to conversations at cross purposes—unsurprising, given that language shapes how we access and understand the very concept of higher education.
While institutional missions varied, most contributions appeared to converge—implicitly or explicitly—around three broad domains: knowledge, skills, and a third area that is less clearly defined, but no less essential.
The first domain—knowledge—is the least contested. Universities have always been concerned fundamentally with generating, preserving, and transmitting knowledge. Yet the aim is not mere accumulation. A university education requires students to engage critically, develop depth of understanding, and recognise how knowledge is constructed and contested.
In the age of generative AI, however, knowledge has become increasingly accessible. Students can now retrieve summaries of “the best that has been thought and said” at the click of a button. This has led some to question whether knowledge remains central to a university education and what forms of knowledge might be compromised by AI or, indeed, might be made more accessible. While knowledge must remain foundational—particularly in research, where the production of new knowledge is essential—any suggestion that it should diminish in importance is misguided. If anything, the proliferation of information makes critical engagement with knowledge—and the depth of understanding that this requires—more important, not less. At the same time, the availability and affordances of generative AI challenge the notion that universities are defined solely by knowledge transmission.
The second domain—skills—has grown in prominence, particularly in the UK context of tuition fees, shifting labour markets, and rapid technological change. Universities are increasingly expected not only to educate but also to prepare students for employment. This expectation is reasonable. Graduates should develop both discipline-specific and transferable skills that enable them to operate effectively in professional contexts. In fields such as medicine, teaching, and engineering, relevant skills have always been central within a university education. The key question is not whether skills matter, but how they are balanced with knowledge.
It is the third domain, however, that generates the most confusion. There is broad agreement that higher education should prepare students to apply their knowledge and skills in ways that benefit both themselves and society. Yet the language used to describe this domain is fragmented: behaviours, attributes, values, dispositions, soft skills, competences, transferable skills, 21st-century skills, non-cognitive skills, and, more recently, human, human-centric or human-centred capabilities in contrast to AI. In short, it is a semantic minefield.
This proliferation of terms obscures rather than clarifies. What is needed is a unifying concept—one that has perhaps fallen out of favour in universities but is now re-emerging across education systems globally.
I propose that we adopt the term character.
By character, I mean the constellation of qualities—indeed, virtues—that shape how individuals think, act, and relate to others. Character is not an optional add-on, but the integrating force that determines how knowledge and skills are applied. Without character, knowledge can be misused and skills deployed unethically.
The Jubilee Centre Framework conceptualises character across four interrelated dimensions:
• Intellectual virtues: e.g. critical thinking, curiosity, discernment, creativity etc.
• Moral virtues: e.g. integrity, justice, courage, humility, compassion etc.
• Civic virtues: e.g. community, citizenship, civility, responsibility to others etc.
• Performance strengths: e.g. teamwork, leadership, resilience etc.
These are often treated as separate categories in higher education discourse, but they are better understood as the building blocks of character.
Central to this framework is practical wisdom—the meta-virtue that brings these dimensions together. It is the capacity to make sound judgements: to know what to do, when to do it, and how to act in complex, real-world situations.
Adopting character as a unifying concept also helps to address several persistent misconceptions.
First, character is not an outdated or politically loaded idea. While it has sometimes been narrowly interpreted, its philosophical foundations—particularly in neo-Aristotelian traditions—are both robust and enduring. At its core, character concerns human flourishing, both individual and collective.
Second, character can be educated. It is shaped through experience, reflection, and social context. Universities are not neutral environments; they already influence students profoundly through their curricula, pedagogy, assessment practices, and institutional culture. The question is not whether universities shape character, but whether they do so intentionally and effectively. Importantly, this is not about indoctrination, but about supporting the development of free, responsible, and reflective agency.
Third, while character is complex and not always easy to measure, it is not beyond evaluation. Universities already assess aspects of character: intellectual virtues through critical thinking, integrity through academic conduct, and collaboration through group work. Measurement remains challenging, but this should not become an excuse for neglect.
Clarifying this third domain matters because the ethical and effective application of knowledge and skills depends upon it. Without character, the aims of higher education remain incomplete.
A clearer classification—knowledge, skills, and character—offers several advantages. It provides a shared language through which universities can articulate their purpose. It helps students and wider audiences better understand the value of higher education. It also enables more coherent curriculum design, aligning learning outcomes, teaching practices, and assessment. Crucially, it makes explicit the university’s civic contribution to the common good.
It is time to move beyond semantic confusion. The mission of universities should be clear in the age of AI: education is not only about what students know or what they can do, but about who they become. It is about knowledge, skills, and character.
