Staff at Goldsmiths, University of London – one of the United Kingdom’s most celebrated universities for arts, humanities and social sciences – are on strike again. This time, it is indefinite. They are responding to yet another round of restructuring meant to generate 22 million pounds ($29.5m) in savings, mainly through mass redundancies, putting more than a fifth of the workforce at risk.

This is the third restructure in five years proposed by Goldsmiths’ management. Each restructure has been more disastrous for the institution than the last.

The initial action called by the University and College Union (UCU) branch at Goldsmiths in response to the latest “restructuring” attempt was a marking and assessment boycott. It began on April 27 to put pressure on the university to find alternatives to cutting its most important assets: the teaching staff who impart the critical and creative education that Goldsmiths is known for, and the administrative staff who provide indispensable support for it.

In response, the management imposed a lockout – 100 percent pay deductions for those participating in the marking and assessment boycott. They reminded staff that they do not accept partial performance, and that any work done would be considered voluntary. UCU called the indefinite strike from June 8. All things considered, it seems logical not to work if your employer is not paying you.

The current chaos at Goldsmiths has a history. Five years ago, management imposed a restructuring programme that was going to put the university back into a solid financial position, or so they said. They called it the Recovery Programme, coming after the pandemic, and it led to 7.6 million pounds ($10.2m) in recurrent savings.

It came at a huge cost. They wanted 52 jobs axed, especially targeting the departments of History and English and Creative Writing. Goldsmiths UCU brought that figure down to 17, through strike action, a marking and assessment boycott and public campaigning.

Management signed covenants with Lloyds and NatWest banks, allowing them access to a small revolving credit facility in return for 60 million pounds ($80.3m) of collateral and obligations to make deep cuts, including staff costs. They reduced and centralised administration, leaving students and staff with little in the way of support.

More than that, they commissioned the accountancy firm KPMG to advise on centralising administration and quantifying the value of academic programmes. Surely they forgot that neither banks nor management consultants are interested in public education, the arts and humanities, or even sustainable finances.

KPMG is interested in making money in a lucrative sector. An FOI (Freedom of Information) request made by the union recently revealed that management spent more than 14 million pounds ($18.7m) on private consultants, legal fees and recruitment agencies since 2019, including 2.7 million pounds ($3.6m) to KPMG.

Staff having barely recovered from the first restructure, management imposed a second in 2023-24 – the Transformation Programme – involving another round of mass redundancies. More than 130 jobs and 11 out of 18 academic departments were targeted. They ultimately made 62 redundancies and 16 million pounds ($21.4m) in savings. Goldsmiths was indeed transformed. The dysfunction made it unrecognisable. The pattern is clear: each restructure was sold as a solution to the crisis, and each left the institution weaker.

With literally nothing left to cut, this third restructure, which they call Future Goldsmiths, could send the institution into a death spiral. Striking staff are blamed by the interim vice chancellor, himself on a salary of 240,000 pounds ($321,130), for “not facing up to the harsh financial realities” of the university or the sector. Promotions have been cancelled, and budgets for teaching assistants have been slashed.

Yet the finances and the arguments for restructuring simply do not add up. Nobody has been told where the almost 24 million pounds ($32.1m) in savings from the previous restructures went. It is unclear why senior managers responsible for so much mismanagement are still paid inflated salaries. And it is undoubtedly the case that they could have made different decisions, bucked the trend.

Nobody forced them to go to the banks, or spend millions on consultants who, unsurprisingly, turned out not to have the best interests of students, staff or public education at heart. Nobody asked for new software that cost millions and was really only meant to replace administrative staff. Goldsmiths’ Council, ostensibly its democratic governing body, is packed with executives from the world of finance and management. And while it’s true that all universities are operating in a context of underfunding, wilfully wasting money can only end badly.

Goldsmiths is not an exception, but a particularly vivid example of a national funding model that is failing. The crisis of the British university system is directly linked to the marketisation of the sector. Means-tested tuition fees were introduced in 1998, variable fees of up to 3,000 pounds ($4,014 at the current exchange rate) followed from 2006, and after the 2010 Browne Review, the cap rose to 9,000 pounds ($12,042) from 2012. Fee income from students would replace much of the direct government funding for universities.

The market would decide if universities went under or needed to be taken over by private providers. It also meant a massive increase in competition between universities for students, the scramble only intensifying when student number controls were removed in 2015. Of course, the most prestigious universities got the most students, leaving many others struggling. This was touted as “student choice” by the Browne Review.

A decade later, struggling universities have become normalised. Nottingham recently issued notices to 2,700 staff members at risk of redundancy. The union has called 61 days of strike action in response. Sussex has proposed 200 redundancies, while Essex closed its Southend campus, proposing 400 redundancies. Sheffield Hallam wants to save 26 million pounds ($34.8m) with 130 redundancies. The list goes on.

Even universities that are not under immediate financial strain are restructuring, often cutting arts and humanities subjects and ignoring their intellectual and cultural value because they are not necessarily associated with high salaries and conventional careers. Yet this has only denied access to the humanities for working-class students.

Changes to student visas under the Conservatives have certainly contributed to a decline in international students, whose fee income is crucial for survival. The Office for Students (OfS), the government regulator for the sector, estimates that 119 universities are reporting deficits for 2025-26. Now MPs are warning that 24 universities could face insolvency or closure within 12 months.

It is not only that the government has no clear plans about how to respond to this catastrophe in the making, but that it has promised not to intervene. Closures – casually called “market exit” by the OfS – were already anticipated back in 2010 when Lord Browne observed in his report that introducing a more competitive environment could mean that some institutions might suffer the risk of failure.

Two things are clear. The first is that this crisis was entirely avoidable. Direct government funding for universities prior to 2010 was an expression of the value of higher education in a civilised society. It was an acknowledgement of the contribution universities make to the economy. But funding the sector is not where the government is currently. Everything is now about national security and putting resources into preparations for war.

The university sector is also one of the last places in society where critical ideas are discussed and debated, and where young people can be exposed to such ideas. Universities are key spaces where academics and students might even critique the government’s drive to war. No wonder we now have endless media stories about university education being a waste of money.

Second, a national response led by the UCU is crucial. Staff resisting redundancies across the sector need to be central to such a response, which has to challenge government priorities. Union branches must coordinate opposition against job losses and course closures to make this happen.

As part of this challenge, there must also be an unapologetic campaign around pay, which would connect the local struggles and focus on the source of the attacks: chronic underfunding. Higher education workers have experienced an effective pay cut of roughly 25 percent since the financial crisis of 2008, and casualisation remains rampant in universities.

The crisis is not irreversible. The government can decide to fund the sector, just as Goldsmiths’ management can choose to recognise who actually keeps the institution running and change course. But neither will do so without pressure. Exerting that pressure is the task ahead if we want to save higher education in the UK.

Meanwhile, staff at Goldsmiths will continue with their indefinite strike and will need maximum solidarity so they can continue to protect jobs, valuable degree programmes and the vision of a radical education. Saving Goldsmiths is part of the wider fight to save higher education in the UK.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.