Faith struggles in science: Academic schools as religious sects

Embedding the economics of religion in economic theory

Religion and religiosity influence our modern society and our social coexistence to a great extent (e.g. Berggren and Bjørnskov, 2013; Wiseman and Young, 2014). Prima facie, it may seem irritating to analyze phenomena of faith like religions ² on the basis of economic theory. What is behind this approach is the understanding of economics as a general social science of action that can be extended to all areas of human life (e.g. Becker, 1976; Frey, 1990). The economic model to explain human behavior is based on two central assumptions. Firstly, people weigh the expected costs of their actions against the expected benefits of the action (e.g. Becker, 1976; Kirchgässner, 2013; McKenzie and Tullock, 1978). And secondly, an individual attempts to increase his or her benefit in accordance with his or her individual preference order under incomplete and asymmetric information and the uncertainty of future events (e.g. Emrich and Follert, 2019; Kirchgässner, 2013; Lindenberg, 1985; Opp, 1985, 1999). Economists distinguish strictly between a person’s goals, which result from individual and free preferences, and its restrictions, which limit the possibility of achieving the goals.

If this general behavioral model can be applied to the above-mentioned areas outside the traditional field of knowledge of economics, it can also be applied to the decision of an individual to join a religious community. Anderson (1988), Iannaccone (1991) and Schmidtchen (2000) point out that first approaches to an economic consideration of religion can already be found in Adam Smith’s work “Wealth of Nations.” The modern economic analysis of religious behavior begins with the pioneering household model of Azzi and Ehrenberg (1975) in the Journal of Political Economy. The authors distinguish three motives for the practice of religion: the salvation motive, the consumer motive and the social pressure motive. Under the salvation motive, they understand the benefit of consumption in the form of redemption after death. Current consumer benefits arise from membership in the church and corresponding religious activities, which is referred to as consumer motive. Finally, especially in areas with a high level of religiosity, renouncing membership in a church can lead to economic or other social disadvantages. So social pressure arises, the result of which Azzi and Ehrenberg (1975) call social pressure motive. Durkin and Greely (1991) examine the religious activity of an individual based on insurance theory and make it clear that this can be interpreted as insurance for a possibly existing paradise. Iannaccone (1998; further Höhener and Schaltegger, 2012; Iyer, 2016; Schmidtchen, 2000) differentiates between different research strands of the economic analysis of religion: First, the belief in the existence of a higher being and religious behavior are analyzed using the rational choice model. Furthermore, a second research strand looks at the (economic) consequences of religion. A third branch of research is devoted to the assessment of a country’s economic policy from a religious perspective. A fourth pillar of religious economics is the institutional consideration of religious groups. This considers the fact that certain organizations concentrate on the production of religious goods and make them available as suppliers on the market. Already Durkheim (1981) emphasizes the collective dimension of religion and points out that a religion without an institutionalized church is hardly conceivable (Schmidtchen, 2000). In this context, Iannaccone (1997) designed the economic model of sects. This approach will be the focus of interest in this paper, which is why it will be presented in the following chapter to provide the theoretical background for our analysis of academic schools.

The economic analysis of sects

A large part of religious goods is produced by organizations specializing in this area (Schmidtchen, 2000). If one wants to deal with the (economic) analysis of sects, first one must define sects. It is questionable how sects are distinguished from other religious communities, for example, churches. A first scientific differentiation between churches and sects is provided by Ernst Troeltsch (1912: 362). He describes churches as universal organizations that aspire to be mass-dominating. In contrast to this, sects are rather small groups which aim for a personal-internal relation and a personal-direct connection between its members. Sects can be found in almost all cultures, but with varying degrees of separation between religious and political sects (Fox, 2004). In the following, we will not focus on the historical, cultural, or sociological characteristics to differentiate, but rather on the economic view of the sect as an organization. A clear-cut assessment is not always possible, but an assessment based on the rules of conduct of the respective organization has become established within the economics of religion (also in the following, Schmidtchen, 2000). While churches generally treat their members with leniency, sects are characterized by many more restrictive rules of behavior. Iannaccone (1997: 104) describes sects as follows:

Sects demand high levels of commitment and high rates of participation, require strict and distinctive codes of conduct, emphasize ‘particularistic’ beliefs and practices (which distinguish their members from those of other religions and, presumably, make them superior to all others), and view secular society as corrupt, dangerous, and threatening. Sects emphasize ‘volitional membership’ (personal conversion as opposed to membership through birth), and they attract a disproportionate share of their converts from among the less advantaged segments of society – ethnic minorities, the poor, and the less educated. Most sects eschew religious professionalism, favoring lay leadership and simple organization structures in which members can participate as equals.

Strictly religious communities have been studied in the socio-economic literature, particularly regarding the United States (Iannaccone, 1992, 1994, 1997), but the analyses can generally be applied to such organizations. Sects are initially characterized by high costs for their members (in the following, Iannaccone, 1997; Schmidtchen, 2000). At first, sects impose strict rules which often intervene in all areas of the members’ lives. This may concern the consumption of stimulants, sexual activities or contact with non-members. In his or her position in society as a whole, the member will regularly have to bear high costs, as sect members may be stigmatized by outsiders. If one considers only the cost side, it seems irritating that sects can exist at all in a free religious market (see e.g. Becker and Nashat Becker, 1997; Iannaccone, 1997). The fact that there is nevertheless an obvious demand for them can be explained by the benefits of membership. Characteristic of a sect is the largely homogeneous membership structure. Because of the high costs, there is rarely a risk of free riders (Iannaccone, 1992, 1994). Members share a common interest, pursue the same goals and set themselves apart from outsiders, which increases the sense of community and thus creates an intangible benefit. This benefit also creates a high level of attachment among members to the sect and among each other (Kelley, 1972; Iannaccone, 1994; Stark and Bainbridge, 1980), which naturally results in high withdrawal costs, since leaving the sect would often mean the loss of the entire social environment. Max Weber (1922) already points out the strong cohesion and the resulting social network within a sect. In Protestant sects, for example, it could be recognized early that the members of the sect took care of other members who had got into financial difficulties, following the principle: “mutuum date nihil inde seperantes.” By building social networks within a sect, the member strengthens his or her individual social capital. From the sect’s point of view, members’ social networks can also be used for recruitment (Stark and Bainbridge, 1980).

To consider the extent of the interaction with outsiders in the context of two facts: a complete renunciation of interaction presupposes that the sect has an appropriate infrastructure that makes it self-sufficient in a certain way. As long as this infrastructure is insufficient, the members of the sect must interact with outsiders (Iannaccone, 1994: 1204). The interaction with outsiders can also have another effect at the same time: Smith et al. (1998) show that the interaction can increase the commitment and collective identity of the sect members. In their opinion, too much shielding from the outside world leads to the members ‘levels of commitment drops because the costs of membership become too high.

Costs and benefits of sects

At this point, we can summarize the most important characteristics of (religious) sects according to the economic approach: Becoming member of a sect causes entry costs, which are supposed to be high. Following Williamson (1979) entry costs are transaction-specific investments for the relational contract (e.g. Furubotn and Richter, 2009) between the sect and the member. After the decision to enter the sect, they are irreversible, in other words, they are “sunk cost.” Obviously, there is a relation between the amount of the entry costs and the duration of the membership insofar as the high entry costs only pay off with longer membership.

The membership comes with running costs for example in the form that time must be spent or activities have to be carried out for free. Being member of a sect also causes opportunity costs because certain behaviors and certain actions of consumption, for example, being member of another sect, are not tolerated by the sect. Based on the theory of optimal time allocation (Becker, 1965), we understand the opportunity costs as the rate of return of investing time in the best alternative activity.

And last but not least leaving the sect produces exit costs because in this way, for example, the personal network of relationships is lost and the remaining members of the sect will try to win back the renegade member with threats or other methods. In this context it seems to be reasonable to assume that the member establishes and deepens relationships within the sect over time and familiarizes himself or herself with the teachings and thus builds up human and social capital. Therefore, the exit costs become higher the longer an individual is member of a sect due to the strong ties within the sect and the transaction-specific investments.

However, besides that being member of a sect delivers high (immaterial) benefits through interacting with like-minded people.

According to the economic theory, the decision to enter a sect should follow a present value calculus. The net present value is the difference between expected future benefits and costs of being a sect member for the periods t = 0,1, . . ., n.

Therefore, a potential member will join the sect, if

U > C E n + C O n + C O p p + C E x ,

with entry costs C E n , the net present value of the running costs C O n , the net present value of the opportunity costs C O p p , the net present value of the exit costs C E x , and the net present value of the benefits of being a member U .

Academic schools, disputes, and philosophy of science

Building on Fleck’s (1980 [1935]) analysis, Thomas S. Kuhn (1962) develops our today’s understanding of science as a community. The starting point of a completely new approach to the history and development of such scientific communities was Kuhn’s (1962) seminal work The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Kuhn assumes that scientific development is not a steady process but takes place in leaps. Additionally, to empirical observations, according to Kuhn (1962), especially in the young stages of a discipline, profound convictions, some of which are hardly provable, play a decisive role, which Kuhn attributes to ideological or material motives. Especially in the early stages of a discipline, competing schools of thought regularly argue over the correct view. Kuhn states that the development described was not long ago for the majority of disciplines, only mathematics and astronomy are probably exceptions. In the competition of these schools of thought, one side usually turns out to be more effective due to increasing information, so that a paradigm develops from the different schools of thought, which is widely, but not completely accepted within the scientific community. Due to the widespread acceptance of the paradigm, the competitive process leads to the development of what Kuhn calls a “normal science.” But even in this phase of consolidation into a paradigm, conflicting schools remain in existence, although the view of outsiders is strongly marginalized. ³

Finally, when a discipline has reached a corresponding degree of maturity and the contradictions to the observations take on a critical size, one paradigm is replaced by a new one in the course of scientific revolutions; this process is erratic.

It is particularly interesting for our study that most of Kuhn’s remarks refer to science. For humanities, he questions whether subfields have even reached the state of a paradigm. Although, of course, in modern social science communities certain findings can be regarded as secured and generally accepted, there are, of course, considerable differences in the explanation of natural law phenomena and the explanation of human behavior. Apart from that, it must be emphasized that economics, which is our starting point, is a comparatively young science, so that intense conflicts between schools are hardly surprising, and insofar economics cannot be considered as a “normal science.” The critical question arises, however, whether this point can be reached at all in a discipline that is primarily concerned with explaining human behavior, since human decision-making is not subject to any physical laws, even though a research strand is developing, for example through the field of neuroeconomics (e.g. Glimcher and Fehr, 2014), that attempts to explain human action based on neuroscientific considerations.

What we can state for our investigation is that competing academic schools appear in all phases of this development process. In the “paradigmatic” phase, however, one of these schools gains the upper hand for at least a while and dominates the academic field.

Science and religion

The comparison between science and religion can be made with regard to Nelson’s (2014: XV) economic analysis:

Economists think of themselves as scientists, but as I will be arguing in this book, they are more like theologians. [. . .] [W]e economists are more truly the heirs of Thomas Aquinas and Martin Luther.

Perhaps, this strong belief in their models by economists let Reinhard Selten (1999: 304) draw the analogy to the theological world with the new term “rationology.” ⁴ In line with this view, Nelson (2014: 117) quotes a statement by Paul Heyne at the AEA annual meeting in 1996:

[A]ny economist who is trying to understand the world of human interactions with the hope of making them more effective is very likely to be operating with a theological vision.

Similar echoes can be found for example, in Cox (2016) and McCarraher (2012), who see neoliberalism as religion, Adam Smith as its founder, the market as God and Wealth of Nations as its holy scripture. Mayer (2012: 95), who speaks of a Church of Anglo-Saxonian economics, and Micklethwait and Wooldrige (2000: 336), who use the term Broad Church of neoliberalism, go in a similar direction (Söllner, 2021).

Given these similarities between science and religion, Emrich and Pitsch’ (2014) considerations are only logical:

With recourse to Kuhn’s (1962, further Drønen, 2006) and Feyerabend’s (1975b) interpretation of science as religion, Emrich and Pitsch (2014) point out that science as a community itself is based on beliefs. As mentioned in the chapter before science and the development of new knowledge is a dynamic process and at a certain culmination point changes occurs. Both, Kuhn (1962) and Feyerabend (1975b) elaborate as a decisive characteristic of this change the acceptance of common languages of observation. And this decision of a group of individuals to adopt a common language of observation can be understood, with Emrich and Pitsch (2014), as an act of faith.

Furthermore, Emrich and Pitsch (2014) transfer the central motives (salvation, consumption, and social pressure) described by Azzi and Ehrenberg (1975) to the scientific community as a whole. Depending on the individual weighting of these motives in the target function of the scientist, he or she allocates his or her resources accordingly in the achievement of the goals mentioned above. To the extent that believers in a religious community orient themselves by principles of faith, a scientist must commit himself to the “ethos of research” (Merton, 1938). Emrich and Pitsch (2014) therefore transfer the motives known from the economic analysis of religion to the scientific community.

While Emrich and Pitsch (2014) developed these ideas for the scientific community in general, this paper aims to take a step further and transfer the insights of the economics of religion and, in particular, the economic theory of sects to academic schools.

Economic analysis of academic schools

In order to be able to transfer the economic model from sects to academic schools, it is necessary on the one hand to explain the characteristics of a scientist and on the other hand to explain those of an academic school in this context. Of course, it must be taken into account that the economic theory of sects cannot be transferred completely congruently to academic schools and that some facts are presented somewhat differently in academic schools than in sects.

A scientist can be characterized as follows: Like every human being, scientists maximize their expected financial or non-financial benefits under incomplete information and uncertainty (e.g. Emrich and Follert, 2019; Kirchgässner, 2013; Lindenberg, 1985; Opp, 1999) and react more or less systematically to incentives and divide their material and their available time according to their individual preference (e.g. Follert et al., 2020).

The application of the rational choice approach seems to be appropriate above all because extra-scientific interests are becoming increasingly important. Stompka (2007: 211) elucidates this phenomenon as follows:

In our time we have witnessed the emergence of a different model of science characterized by dependence on huge financial resources, privatization and secrecy of research, commodification of research results, bureaucratization of scientific institutions and instrumentalization of science by subjecting it to extra-scientific interests.

Like other people, scientists are therefore under the “cold star of scarcity” (Schneider, 1967: “Kalter Stern der Knappheit”). The following goals can be typified for a person according to the method of homo oeconomicus represented here (e.g. Emrich, 2015; Emrich and Pitsch, 2014; Follert et al., 2020):

Given the above motives to engage in scientific activity, the preferences of most scientists will differ. If we assume that, from the parallels between religion and science mentioned above, the motives of religious economics, consumption, salvation, and social pressure are also the preferences of a scientist, then his subjective benefit from attending an academic school will depend on the extent to which the school is compatible with his or her individual weighting of those preferences within his or her utility function. For example, a scientist who is rather characterized by the salvation motive, will invest the scare time into those activities that promise internal scientific benefits, for example, through discussions with like-minded people. In contrast, consumption motives could play a more important role for another scientist. He or she will therefore make sure that his scientific work can be marketed as well as possible within the scientific community and/or outside it, in order to consume the non-financial (e.g. reputation) or financial (e.g. through lectures, political, or management consulting) benefits. A third scholar may be guided by social pressures within his or her group. For example, it is conceivable that a young scholar, perhaps not yet emancipated and courageous, will follow the line of thought of his or her academic teacher, even though he or she realizes neither consumer benefit nor salvation experience.

Now that the characteristics of the scientists have been located in this context, the next step is to fit academic schools into this theoretical structure.

This is not the first time that the image of a sect is used to describe a school within science. Almond (1988) differentiates a methodological dimension (hard or soft) and an ideological dimension (left or right) to characterize four “Schools and Sects in Political Science.” Since the beginning of science, academic schools have shaped the further development of their respective disciplines and have assumed “constitutive functions for the transfer of knowledge and procedures” (Klausnitzer, 2014: 10, translated by the authors). In his sociological analysis of academic schools, Stichweh (also in the following, 1999) points out the importance of complementary role structures. On the one hand, there are teachers, on the other hand, there are learners. This naturally results in an asymmetry in terms of knowledge and power. However, this understanding of roles changes over time, so that former learners regularly become colleagues, although a certain asymmetry remains. This is followed by a rolling system in which junior scientists are generated and trained, so that an ideal school continues to develop over generations. Klausnitzer (2014: 9, translated by the authors) uses the example of the “Scherer Schule” of German philology to point out an important characteristic of the academic school, namely the differentiation from external students:

While the members of the [school] emphasized their training with the [. . .] teacher as a key event of academic socialization and emphasized the special achievements of their association, outside scientists perceived this connection as a ’crony system’ and ‘cartel’.

The transfer of the sect’s economic model to academic schools is not too far off, given that literature in the first half of the 18th century does not yet refer to “scientific schools” but to “philosophical sects” (Stichweh, 1999). The designation as a sect does not contain any judgement of any moral kind (Stichweh, 1999). There is some evidence that the “philosophical sect” is a suitable synonym for the academic school as an organization.

Therefore, academic schools should be classified in terms of institutional economics or organizational theory. In analogy to the interpretation of religious communities as clubs (Iannaccone, 1992), academic schools can also be described using the economic club theory. An (economic) theory of clubs was first developed by Buchanan (1965). ⁶ Sandler and Tschirhart (1980: 1482) define a club as

a voluntary group deriving mutual benefit from sharing one or more of the following: production costs, the member’s characteristics, or a good characterized by excludable benefits.

According to microeconomic theory, a club good is characterized by non-rivalry in consumption and exclusivity (e.g. Goolsbee et al., 2014). It is the main characteristic of a club that the production of the good, which is considered in the individual calculation of the member, depends not only on the own investment in the club but also on the commitment of the other members (for churches Iannaccone, 1992). In the context of an academic school, for example, it is conceivable that a student might benefit from the academic reputation and publication success of his academic teacher, which improves his own career prospects (e.g. Emrich and Pitsch, 2014). This creates positive externalities, understood as the influence of one club member on the benefits of other members (Iannaccone, 1994). ⁷ In this context, the danger of a loss of benefit through free riders has been described for religious groups (e.g. Iannaccone, 1992, 1998). For academic schools, this danger also exists in principle, which could manifest itself, for example, in fictitious authorships, but sponsors, for example, like the German Research Foundation (DFG) have a regulatory framework that at least rudimentarily reduces the discretionary leeway. It can also be argued that scientists base their behavior on the CUDOS standards developed by Merton (1985), so that deviant behavior is not compatible with the ethos of science.

Further characteristics of an academic school can be based on Becker’s before mentioned comments and on Iannacone’s (1998) interpretation of cults ⁸ , that the members particularly interact with each other (1) and little with other schools of thought (2).

This can be summarized as follows: Academic schools offer services that are in demand by scientists.

Decision to join an academic school

As every human decision, the decision to join an academic school is based on subjective preferences. We assume that the individual scholar chooses a school depending on his or her preferences for salvation, consumption, and social pressure as well as the possibility to gain a certain well-paid academic position like, for example, a tenured professorship. ⁹ The member will presumptively choose the school that maximizes his or her utility. The benefit that the scientist generates from the achievement of his goal is, of course, offset by costs. Of course, we must consider that in most cases the costs and benefits are not known a priori. On the one hand, there is uncertainty, and on the other, especially young scientists are often still poorly informed regarding the costs and benefits of a school. While we simplistically assume that the preferences are stable over time, the costs and benefits may change, for example, due to socio-political influences that make certain positions of academic schools seem less preferable. Therefore, the cost-benefit structure may change over time, leading to a situation where the change in opportunity cost alone makes it seem worthwhile to leave one academic school and enter another.

First, the benefit components should be considered which have already been mentioned above. A sense of community and exchange among like-minded people serve the salvation motive. The smaller the group, the greater the benefit for an individual that prefers salvation. This feeling is further strengthened by differentiation from members of other schools.

Within his own group, the scientist regularly experiences a high reputation and support (Dilger, 2017), which manifests itself, for example, in citations within his or her circle. Overall, however, a smaller school will publish less in terms of quantity than a school with a larger number of members. However, this does not necessarily mean that a member of a larger school is cited more often because the population of sources is larger. However, the larger the school, the broader the reputation effect will be, because a larger school tends to enable better publication opportunities in respected journals. It can also be assumed that the search for cooperation partners is easier in a school with a large number of followers than in a school with few. Therefore, the potential to satisfy the so-called consumption motive is likely to be more abundant, especially in large schools.

The close sense of belonging can also lead to social pressure, so that a scientist who is susceptible to it because of his character would join a small school even if it offered him or her little salvation or consumption. Since academic schools with a large number of members tend to be loose associations, they serve the social pressure motive to a lesser extent.

Besides that, an important aspect is the opportunity to achieve a well-paid and reputable position. Here, because of their influence in filling academic positions, large schools can offer their members better alternatives than smaller schools can do.

In addition to the benefit components, the scientist must of course also consider the costs when choosing an academic school.

First of all, the entry costs have to be taken into account. On the one hand, a precise knowledge of the program of the respective school is required, which leads to high costs for familiarization with the subject matter, since, especially in traditional academic schools, there is a long history of literature that must be studied carefully to be recognized in the circle of the school. Therefore, entry costs are likely to be greatest at large schools that can look back on a long tradition. Young or new schools with a small number of members should therefore have very low entry costs. This is different from the economic theory of sects, in which the entry costs of new radical sects are very high and those of traditional churches are rather low.

Membership in an academic school incurs ongoing costs. Academic exchange has to be cultivated, research carried out and conferences attended. These costs are likely to be greater for large schools, as they have a large number of related offers that are expected to be taken up.

Furthermore, the scientist’s decision means a narrowing of his or her own career perspectives, insofar opportunity costs occur. These costs are, of course, significantly higher for a school that represents a minority opinion than for a school that represents the mainstream. The opportunity costs are particularly high, if the smaller school has sufficient infrastructure so that the interactions of the members of this school with other schools, for example by publishing in the same journals or attending the same conferences, is considerably limited. For the first group in particular, this means in concrete terms that the chances of being called up (Dilger, 2017), published in mainstream journals, citation, third-party funded projects, etc. are reduced.

The fact that switching between academic schools is comparatively rare (Stichweh, 1999) indicates group stability, which can be explained by the level of exit costs. The reputation and credibility of the researcher, which is of particular importance in science, plays a central role here. If a scientist were to leave the academic school and henceforth represent a different school of thought, there would regularly be a loss of credibility, since the sudden change of mind might be difficult to explain. According to the economic model, a resignation is only made if the net benefit of joining another school outweighs the loss of credibility. Nevertheless, it should be noted that the exit costs for a member of a small school of thought tend to be lower than those for a scientist representing a widespread school. Of course, it can also have long term consequences on a scientist’s reputation if publication is carried out in the tradition of an academic school. For this reason entering another school could become more difficult. In other words, such a reverberation effect increases the exit costs for the scientist considerably.

The decision of a scientist to join an academic school can be presented in simplified form as follows:

Let us assume that there are several academic schools S_i, with i ∈ { 1 , 2 , … , n } , which are characterized by a different positioning and therefore serve these three motifs (salvation motive ( m i s a l ) , consumer motive ( m i c o n ) , social pressure motive ( m i p r e s s ) to a different extent. They also grant access to a specific academic position ( P i ) that comes with a certain level of income and reputation. The set of offer of each academic school can thus be described as follows: ( m i s a l , m i c o n , m i p r e s s , P i ) , with i ∈ { 1 , 2 , … , n } . Each set of offer causes the above-mentioned costs C i = C i E n + C i O n + C i O + C i E x + C i P , with i ∈ { 1 , 2 , … , n } . With the affiliation to a school the scientist incurs entry costs C i E n . In addition, he or she must consider the present value of the current costs C i O n , the present value of the opportunity costs C i O , the present value of the exit costs C i E x and the present value of the costs in the form of the effort in the corresponding academic position C i P .

The scientist will now join the school that will bring him or her the highest return E i . The following applies

E i = U i − C i = U i ( m i s a l , m i c o n , m i p r e s s , P i ) − ( C i E n + C i O n + C i O + C i E x + C i P ) → m a x ,

with i ∈ { 1 , 2 , … , n } and U i the present value of the utility of belonging to a particular academic school.

Of course, it can be argued that belonging to an academic school of thought follows chance rather than a Rational Choice model and depends on the individual socialization of the scientist, so that one could argue that one is “born into” a school. However, one can justify the phenomenon of being born in with the rational choice approach. The entry costs for young scientists are low at the beginning, because they know the scientific surroundings. Furthermore, social pressure can arise from the doctoral supervisor or other closely related scientists, so that the social pressure motive becomes the guiding principle. This also means that the exit costs increase significantly. If, on the other hand, one follows the Enlightenment’s image of man and assumes that scientists particularly define themselves through independence and freedom, one cannot avoid understanding the decision to belong to a school of thought as a free and perhaps rational decision.

Of course, it depends on the preference structure of the scientist, but in summary it can be said that small schools satisfy the salvation motive and the social pressure motive better than large schools. In return, they show higher opportunity potential. Large schools, on the other hand, make it possible to better satisfy the consumption motive and grant better access to lucrative positions. However, they have higher entry costs, higher ongoing costs, and also higher exit costs.