According to the TU/e, this involves around 500 dropouts, out of an intake of 3,000 to 3,500. Of course, figures can be nuanced, and there is always turnover, but the trend is clear: the housing shortage remains acute. These are not anonymous numbers. This is about the international talent that we as a region so desperately need, talent that is dropping out before they have even set foot in a lecture hall.

And that is precisely where the problem lies. The university wants to grow and, with the prestigious Project Beethoven, is fully committed to attracting thousands of additional engineers to the Brainport region. A noble goal, but the reality is that of an orchestra without chairs. No matter how ambitious your plans are, you won't get anywhere without a roof over your head. Five thousand extra rooms are needed to make up for the current shortfall. The university is not allowed to build them itself. So there are discussions, master plans, task forces. The result is still pending.

Responsibility is conveniently shifted: the municipality, the business community, the university—everyone points to each other. Brainport belongs to all of us, but apparently the housing shortage belongs to no one. Meanwhile, this tug-of-war undermines our own ambitions. While we talk, those top talents choose a university that does have room.

The easy conclusion: more rooms are needed quickly. But the real question is more fundamental. Can a university continue to focus on international growth when its foundations are not in order? Those who promise a future but offer no place to start are not selling a vision. They are selling thin air. 

Wob Knaap is a Data Science student at TU/e. The views expressed in this column are his own.