Lanna Hill: Would university merger create a super-school or Franken-versity?

Australia’s universities once ranked among the best in the world. For a long time, reputation was enough to draw international students and reassure industry partners. But global competition has changed the game.

Asian institutions, especially in China and Singapore, have poured billions into research and branding, racing up the league tables. Australia, by contrast, has slipped. Our universities are still respected, but certainly not world leaders. Prestige alone doesn’t stretch as far as it used to.

That pressure is reshaping the sector. Faculties are being merged, courses cut, and redundancies announced in nearly every State. And in South Australia, the most radical move is underway: the University of Adelaide and UniSA are fusing into a single Adelaide University, opening in 2026.

Supporters say scale will lift global standing and attract research dollars; critics warn it will erase history, narrow choice, and create a bloated bureaucracy. Either way, it’s a once-in-a-generation disruption.

Which brings us to WA, where the same question is now live. The Cook Government has commissioned a review of our four public universities, openly canvassing structural change.

ECU has been excluded, with its billion-dollar city campus already reshaping its trajectory, but UWA, Curtin and Murdoch remain firmly in play. The political case is obvious: if South Australia is building a super-uni to chase scale, WA doesn’t want to be left behind. But what looks persuasive in a Cabinet briefing doesn’t always translate into global competitiveness.

Because markets don’t reward organisational charts. They reward brand.

Brand pressure doesn’t just reshape student demand. It shifts the whole ecosystem. Universities that position themselves clearly and compete harder internationally tend to become leaner and more performance driven. That can sharpen outcomes — more competitive research teams, stronger partnerships, faster translation of ideas into industry.

Yet it also raises the bar for academics whose careers were built inside a traditional model. Not everyone has the networks, commercial nous or cross-disciplinary flexibility that modern branding rewards. For them, consolidation can feel less like opportunity and more like a threat.

Brand is also about culture — the intangible flavour that gives an institution character. In the US, universities market themselves as much on vibe as on faculty: sport, traditions, alumni networks, even the feel of a campus.

That sense of belonging is part of the sell. WA’s universities don’t cultivate that with the same intensity. We sell courses and facilities, but rarely a compelling story of culture or community.

A merger without that layer risks not just duplication but blandness — an institution too big to feel personal, and too vague to inspire loyalty.

On the surface, WA has real brand assets. UWA retains Group of Eight prestige, with an alumni network that still carries weight in Canberra and corporate boardrooms. Curtin has carved out an industry-focused reputation and has been steadily climbing the QS rankings. ECU’s new city campus will double as a showcase for creative industries and technology. Murdoch points to its diversity and niche research strengths.

Each of those stories is distinct. For academics, rationalisation shifts the ground. Those who can align their work with rankings or industry partnerships will adapt more easily, while others may find the new rules far less forgiving.

The real choice for WA isn’t whether we want fewer universities on a map, but whether we want stronger ones in the market. Mergers may or may not be part of the answer. But unless we invest in brand, clarity and global competitiveness, we’ll keep slipping, while others race ahead.

Lanna Hill is a strategist, speaker and founder of Leverage Media