Deborah Coddington: University doesn't have a monopoly on achievers

Photo / Greg Bowker

After much lobbying, photographing potholes as big as moon craters, and making submissions, our road is finally tar-sealed.

The only downside is my formerly filthy SUV, a true off-road farm vehicle, now stays so clean it comes close to resembling a Remuera tractor.

I never before understood how much precision and care went into transforming a dusty in summer, muddy in winter, country goat-track into a quality road with a hard, smooth surface, deep drains either side, soak pits, culverts and sharp, curved edges.

As I worked in the vineyard, I watched the contractors. They were on the job from 6.30am until 7pm, hazard lights flashing in the dark.

The skill with which they worked the heavy machinery was amazing. I reckon the guy on the digger, slicing so neatly along the road edge, could pick his nose with his machine if he tried.

It was great observing a road gang take pride in their work. The finished job is beautifully executed - to my eyes, a work of art.

Most of the guys have worked on the roads since leaving school - they know no other career - and there's probably not a university degree among them.

So they're not affected by last week's news that universities will restrict entry to those with the highest marks.

In fact, they'll be better off - less of their hard-earned tax will be wasted on students who shouldn't be anywhere near a university.

Why should attendance at university be a right, open to anyone who might want a stab at getting a degree? I suspect the attraction for many is the interest-free loan, the lifestyle, and - for a government looking for positive news - low unemployment figures.

Well, we've paid a price for our snobby attitude in herding school-leavers into tertiary education - student debt of $11 billion and growing at $1 billion annually.

I'm not opposed to university degrees, per se. I don't want an unqualified doctor doing operations, for instance, but you don't need a degree to be a journalist or a marketer, and hundreds of Bachelor of Communications graduates are getting paid to tell untruths.

Of course, when Auckland, Massey, Victoria and Otago announced last week they would all raise the entry bar and only admit the number of students for which the Government provides funding, there were predictable grizzles from education unions.

But universities have been carrying the can for thousands of unfunded students. The way students moan about student loans, you'd be forgiven for thinking that taxpayers were relieved long ago of any financial responsibility, but we still subsidise every student somewhere between 50 and 75 per cent of their studies. So numbers must be capped somewhere.

But it's not the financial reasons which irk me so much. Look at this quote from Liz Gordon, Quality Public Education Coalition, on reducing the numbers at universities: "We are going to be the thick country."

"Thick" is a horrible insult. Is someone who didn't go to university "thick", and therefore not a good person?

We've just sold our Wellington house, and moved a container-load of goods to Martinborough using a relocation firm I'd hired successfully before.

Its Masterton contractor Bryan, probably in his late 50s, has been in the moving business since he was 9, working for his dad. He did a spell in the freezing works, but came back to packing and moving because he loved it.

Anyone who has moved house knows it's a stressful, dreadful job, but Bryan was cheerful, and so efficient you'd think the Army had been through our five-level home, wrapping and boxing.

I have as much admiration for people like this who do life's hard yakka - Mr Shifters carrying pianos up and down flights of stairs and roadies scraping back the clay then spreading layers of metal, building up surfaces until it's perfect for sealing - as I have for surgeons mending hearts and limbs, barristers saving the innocent from incarceration.

Just because you're not bright enough for university or choose to not follow tertiary training doesn't mean you're thick. No one is thick who takes pride in their work. Tradespeople are clever - we need more of them.