Lessons from Denmark: Time for Australia to Borrow a Page from the Danes on International Students, By James Reed
From the smelly lecture halls of Sydney and Melbourne, Australia's international education sector has long been a golden goose, pumping billions into the economy and filling campuses with ambitious minds from around the world. But as of 2025, that goose is looking more like a wild flock: chaotic, overburdened, and increasingly seen as a feathered backdoor to permanent residency rather than a pathway to genuine learning. With enrolments hovering at nearly 926,000 in mid-2025, a mere 1% dip from last year's peak, the system is straining under housing shortages, skyrocketing rents, and a migration pipeline that's more leak than lock. Enter Denmark, the Nordic pragmatist that's just slammed the door on visa abuse with a suite of targeted reforms. On September 18, 2025, Denmark's Ministry of Immigration and Integration announced it's making life "significantly more difficult" for unqualified third-country students, zeroing in on hotspots like Bangladesh and Nepal. Australia, staring down its own visa vortex, should absolutely lift these policies. Not wholesale, our system's too entrenched for that, but selectively, to restore order, prioritise quality over quantity, and ensure international education remains a boon, not a burden.
Let's face it: Australia's student visa program has morphed into a migration magnet, and it's spiralling out of control. Pre-pandemic, international students contributed a supposed $40 billion annually to the economy (contested by Macrobusiness.com.au), but the post-COVID rebound turned into a torrent. By 2024, offshore visa applications had surged, only to plummet 40% amid crackdowns, yet onshore numbers kept climbing, with 30% of graduates fast-tracking to temporary work visas as a bridge to permanency. The government's response? A controversial cap of 270,000 new commencements for 2025, up slightly from initial plans but still a blunt instrument that's spooked universities and agents alike. Critics howl that it's damaging our global rep, but the real damage is already done: visa misuse as a "backdoor to the labour market," echoing Denmark's exact gripe.
The red flags are everywhere. Family visas for student dependents, meant for support, not settlement, have ballooned, particularly from South Asia. While data on exact breakdowns lags (the Department of Home Affairs' bi-annual stats are playing catch-up), patterns mirror Denmark's: high inclusion rates from Nepal (up to 74% in some cohorts) and India (23%), dwarfing the 1-2% from China or the US. Dropout rates tell a starker tale: first-year attrition hovers at 10-15% for many international cohorts, far above domestic averages, with surveys revealing "non-study-oriented" applicants flooding low-rigour courses like hospitality or business. Pass rates? Often sub-70% for exams, compared to 90%+ for locals or top-tier internationals. And the kicker: agents peddling "study-to-stay" packages, fake docs, and exaggerated job prospects, turning visas into a $2,000-a-pop lottery ticket.
This isn't just academic fluff, it's fuelling Australia's housing hell. International students and their families gobble up rentals in a market where vacancy rates scrape 1%, driving rents up 10% year-on-year in student hubs. Both Labor and the Coalition agree: something's got to give. The Opposition's even pledging a post-study work visa (subclass 485) overhaul, slamming it as a "misuse" route to jobs and PR. But half-measures like fee hikes (now $2,000 per visa) and risk ratings aren't enough. We need Denmark's precision scalpel.
Across the globe in Copenhagen, Denmark's dropping the hammer on what former Immigration Minister Kaare Dybvad Bek calls a "huge increase" in students and families from Bangladesh and Nepal exploiting studies as a labour market loophole. Their September 18 blueprint isn't anti-immigrant, it's anti-abuse, backed by hard data from eight universities: 74% of Nepali and 58% Bangladeshi permits included families (vs. 1% Chinese), dropout rates at 13% (vs. 4% others), and pass rates lagging at 55-65%. One-third of Bangladeshi students at Aarhus were flagged as "not study-oriented," often stumbling on group work or exams due to mismatched prep.
The fixes? A targeted toolkit:
Academic Gatekeeping Entrance exams, targeted language tests for third-country applicants. Ensures genuine quals; weeds out underprepared.
Document Scrutiny Universities partner with National ID Center for fraud checks; retroactive reviews of existing permits. Cracks down on fakes from agents.
Family Firewall Sharp cuts to spousal/dependent visas. Curbs "chain migration" without study focus.
Post-Study Squeeze Work permits slashed from 3 to 1 year. Limits backdoor job/PR grabs.
Cost Barriers Tuition hikes for non-EU students. Deters bargain-hunters; funds verification.
Agent Oversight Monitoring recruitment channels for misrepresentation. Targets the pipeline of deceit.
Universities like Aarhus are on board, cherry-picking tools for feasibility while preserving spots for "talented" applicants. It's not about closing borders; Denmark still welcomes 30,000+ internationals yearly, but about quality control, ensuring the system serves education, not exploitation.
What Australia Should Swipe: A Tailored Danish Import Kit
Australia's already dipping toes with its 2025 cap and "Genuine Student" tests, but Denmark's playbook offers sharper edges we can lift without upending our $50 billion sector. Start with academic rigour: Mandate entry exams or IELTS-plus for high-risk nationalities (Nepal, India, Bangladesh), mirroring Denmark's tests. Our 10-15% dropout epidemic? Nipped in the bud, saving unis from revenue black holes and boosting grad employability.
Next, family limits: Cap dependents at 20-30% of permits for non-OECD countries, phasing out the 70%+ anomalies. This echoes Denmark's slash without banning families outright, fair, data-driven, and a direct hit on housing strain. Pair it with Denmark's document deep-dive: Empower Home Affairs with a "Visa Integrity Hub" for real-time credential verifies, plus audits of the 30% funnelled to 485 visas.
And the big one: Trim post-study tails. Denmark's one-year cap? Australia should hack our 2-4 year 485 down to 18 months for most, reserving longer for STEM/PhD stars. It slams the migration backdoor while keeping talent in play, win-win for a labour market that's picky, not porous. Toss in agent blacklists and tuition bumps for low-yield courses, and voila: a system that's sustainable, not a free-for-all.
These aren't radical; they're refined. Early signs from Denmark show applications dipping 5-10% from abuse-prone pools, but overall quality rising, no mass exodus, just smarter inflows. Australia could pilot them in 2026, using our enrolment data dashboards for tweaks.
Reining It In: A Stronger System for All
Denmark's reforms aren't a cautionary tale, they're a blueprint for balance. Australia's out-of-control influx risks torching the very industry that defines us. By lifting these policies, we protect housing, cull fraud, and magnetise the brilliant over the bargain-bin. Sure, unis will gripe about admin loads, and agents about lost commissions, but the alternative? A 2025 of visa chaos, with commencements down another 5-10% from uncertainty alone.
Albanese's team, take note: Borrow from the Danes before the flock flies north away from this place.
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