When does process stop helping people and start becoming a barrier?

There is a phrase I find myself returning to often when thinking about complaints: people rarely arrive at an ombuds scheme’s doors at their best moment. This is something I have come back to throughout my career across various ombuds services, and it is no less true at the Office of the Independent Adjudicator and for the students we serve today.  
 
By the time a student reaches the OIA, they have usually been through months, and sometimes years, of frustration, uncertainty, stress, or disappointment. Some will have experienced serious personal circumstances alongside their studies. Others may simply feel exhausted by processes they have struggled to understand. Almost all are trying to navigate systems at a moment when they feel at their least powerful. 
 
That matters when we think about the rules and frameworks governing how complaints systems operate. 
 
This month, the OIA launched a consultation on proposed changes to our Scheme, the framework which sets out what complaints we can look at and how we do so. On one level, this is a technical consultation about jurisdiction, discretion, governance, and process. But underneath that sits a broader question which I think many sectors, not just higher education, are increasingly grappling with: when does process stop helping people and start becoming a barrier to them? 
 
Across higher education there can sometimes be an assumption that adding more process necessarily creates greater fairness. That is not always true. 
 
Detailed rules can absolutely provide important safeguards, consistency, and transparency; however, they can also create systems which feel impenetrable to the very people they are intended to serve. I need only look at the type and range of complaints crossing the desks of the teams at the OIA to see this in action.  
 
That tension is familiar to anyone working in ombuds. We often talk about fairness in terms of process design, but fairness is also about whether people can realistically understand and navigate systems when they are distressed, overwhelmed, or vulnerable. 
 
Research into administrative justice consistently shows that people are less likely to engage effectively with systems they perceive as overly legalistic, complex, or inaccessible. In practice, complexity often advantages those already most confident at navigating institutional structures. Accessibility is not simply about whether procedures exist or are technically available online. It is about whether people can meaningfully use them. 
 
Higher education itself has changed considerably since the OIA was established. Student expectations have evolved. Consumer protection law has become increasingly prominent. The student population is larger, more diverse, and more internationally connected. Whilst many of the features are positive, it is important to recognise that the language and assumptions of sector institutions are not always the language and assumptions of students. 
 
At the same time, complaint handling across many sectors has shifted towards greater transparency, accessibility, and user-centred design. Increasingly, there is recognition that people judge systems not only on whether decisions are technically sound, but on whether those systems feel understandable and fair. 
 
That is one of the reasons we are consulting on moving towards a shorter, more principles-led Scheme supported by clearer explanatory material. 
 
I know “principles-led” can sometimes create anxiety. In some contexts it can sound vague, or as though rigour is somehow being reduced. But ombuds work already relies heavily on the careful exercise of judgement. No two student complaints are entirely identical. The challenge is often not whether rules exist, but how they are interpreted fairly and proportionately in varied circumstances. 
 
In reality, many complaints systems already operate through discretion while presenting themselves as purely rules-based. I think there is value in being more honest and transparent about that. 
 
A principles-led approach is not about removing accountability. If anything, it places greater emphasis on explaining why decisions are made, rather than simply pointing people towards increasingly complex procedural wording. For students, providers, and advisers alike, understanding the rationale behind a decision is often just as important as understanding the rule itself. 
 
We are also consulting on several specific changes, including recognising a student for the purposes of our Scheme from the point at which they accept an offer to study, rather than registration, and reducing the time limit for bringing complaints after internal procedures conclude. 
 
Alongside this, the OIA is preparing for developments in Wales as tertiary education reform progresses and our role is expected to widen to include complaints from a broader group of learners in further education settings. To this end, we are also proposing to change our name. As our work has developed, it is becoming increasingly important that students understand what we do. So: we propose to include the words Student Complaints in our name, becoming the Office of the Independent Adjudicator for Student Complaints.  
 
But for me, the significance of this consultation is not about individual clauses. It is about what kind of complaints system education needs for the future. 
 
One of the privileges of ombuds work is that it offers a unique window into how systems are actually experienced by the people moving through them. Complaints are often uncomfortable reading for institutions. But they are also one of the richest forms of organisational feedback available. 
 
Over time, patterns emerge about where communication fails, where expectations diverge, where processes unintentionally exclude, and where people feel unheard. In some cases, complaints reveal substantive failures. In others, they reveal systems which may be technically correct but experienced as confusing, distant, or performative. 
 
The best complaints systems are not those which never receive complaints. In fact, institutions with very low complaint volumes are not necessarily institutions without problems. Sometimes they may simply be places where people lack confidence that raising concerns will lead anywhere meaningful. That is why trust matters so much. 
 
Independent redress only works if people believe systems are understandable, accessible, and capable of listening fairly and changing accordingly. That trust can be undermined by poor decisions, and by processes which feel excessively opaque, or difficult to navigate. 
 
Consultation is important precisely because independent schemes do not operate in isolation from the environments around them. Students, providers, representative bodies, and advisers all experience the Scheme differently and bring perspectives we may not see ourselves. 
 
At the same time, independence matters deeply. The OIA’s role is not to become an extension of institutional interests, political agendas, or sector fashions. We are consulting because engagement strengthens understanding and trust, not because independence itself is negotiable. 
 
Ultimately, that is what this consultation is really about. Not simply shortening documents, changing the name above the door, or redrafting clauses, but asking whether the framework underpinning independent student redress remains sufficiently clear, fair, and accessible for the environment higher education now operates in, and the one it is moving towards. 
 
I think that is a conversation worth having openly and honestly. 

Helen Megarry is the Independent Adjudicator for Higher Education in England and Wales.

ENDS

For further information, contact communicationsteam@oiahe.org.uk.