France’s university system, though cheaper than U.S.’s, offers few student services

It’s a Saturday morning. You have a paper to write, and you need to check out some books. But instead of rolling out of bed and shuffling over to Butler, you have to take a 10-minute walk to the metro and a 30-minute train ride, followed by a 45-minute wait in line to get into the library. As American ex-pat and food blogger David Liebowitz likes to say, “WTF (Welcome to France).”
For an étudiante étrangère on a budget, the manner in which France’s (much more cost-effective) educational system affects students’ everyday lives is fascinating. In a city where most students are attending college largely on the government’s dime while still living at home, the university culture is extremely decentralized, even disorganized. For example, libraries containing required readings are scattered all over the city, office hours are a foreign concept, and syllabi are a luxury enjoyed by only a precious few.

Risking oversimplification, the French university system essentially works like this: If you manage to ace the grueling baccalauréat, or bac, as it is often shortened (France’s more intense, more decisive version of the SATs), you have the opportunity to attend one of France’s prestigious grandes écoles. If you merely pass the bac—which, it should be noted, is no small feat—you may attend an université, open to any student who completes the exam.

Tuition at both institutions is a fraction of what it costs to attend any American university without a scholarship. But if you ask French people what they think of the system, most will tell you that, while they like that it represents a meritocracy, American schools are better.

I’ve had this conversation several times with different people, and almost without fail, my French companion has ended the exchange with some version of the phrase, “You get what you pay for.” No matter how hard I try to communicate just how expensive certain U.S. universities are—“They can cost as much as four cars! As much as a house!”—the response is always the same: “You get what you pay for.”

At first, I found it appalling that French people would think that small bureaucratic conveniences like CourseWorks and American university traditions like football games were worth an extra $90,000. But after spending a little more time here, I’ve come to understand that their desires are a bit more complex than wanting to recreate “Animal House.”

In French middle and high schools, a group called the conseil de classe—formed by several students, administrators, parents, and the school principal—meets every year to discuss students’ progress and performance. They recommend which students should set off on the track toward a liberal arts education and which should pursue medical school, engineering school, or trade school.
As a student who changed her major four times before sophomore year of college, never mind her career path, this kind of premature division of labor is incredibly foreign. But it also sheds light on what appeals to French people about the American university system.

Although the French largely overlook the astronomical price of U.S. colleges, they appreciate the fact that students who can afford the tuition not only choose their own academic path, but are also given ample time to do so.

I’ll be the first one to admit that I am one stingy American. (I mean, let’s be serious—I’m devoting an entire series to how not to spend money while abroad.) But studying in Paris has also taught me that certain things are worth the cost. And I, for one, can’t think of anything more worth paying for than the complete freedom to choose my own personal, professional, and academic future.