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Quality education is widely regarded as the backbone of a country’s development. Statistics show that nations that are successful, strong, progressive, and exemplary consistently maintain very high standards of education. Our government, too, has allocated a comparatively significant share of the national budget (around 11 percent) to this sector. It is often cited that Japan invested nearly 49 percent of its budget in education for several years following the Second World War. In India, Jagdish Gandhi introduced the concept of the Quality Circle into the academic ecosystem with the expectation of an overarching, education-induced transformation. One of the key indicators for measuring the quality of education is research. This argument is also advanced in the special issue publication Chetanako Muhan (2080), published by the Shreekant Adhikari Foundation. Yet today, research activities seem to be drifting away from their mission and turning increasingly into a mockery.

A few months ago, a distinguished speaker invited to a regional program proudly claimed, “I did research for half an hour today and discovered a few things.” As a presenter at the same program, this contributor found it difficult to comprehend whether research is something that can truly be completed in half an hour. On another occasion, a person with an academic identity uploaded a photograph on Facebook of himself on his mobile phone, and captioned it, “Doing some serious research.” Has research now been reduced to ‘mobile work’? Does merely knowing how to use Facebook qualify one as a researcher? Such questions persist.

Sometime later, this contributor received an email from a PhD researcher who had sent a questionnaire to measure patients’ perceptions of private hospitals. Despite visiting hospitals only to care for others, express goodwill, or attend meetings, the contributor has rarely been a patient in a private hospital for at least the past 15 years. Upon being informed of this, the sender casually replied, “No problem, just choose whatever option seems good and tick it.” These are only representative incidents, but taken together they clearly reveal how a dense and serious subject like research is being dangerously trivialized.

Research is a strong foundation and an essential pillar of academic life. Anyone completing a master’s degree is required to conduct at least one research project, which is often their first formal exposure to research. How far they pursue it thereafter depends on their sustained interest and commitment. Those who cannot fight should not join the army; those who cannot argue should not study law; those who cannot generate profit should not enter commerce; and those who cannot conduct research should think carefully before entering academia. Yet in recent times, distortions appear to be expanding far more rapidly than purity in academic research.

It is both pathetic and painful that thousands of identical research works under the same title circulate in academic circles. Research outputs lacking rigorous study and genuine effort—prepared and even home-delivered theses—are becoming increasingly common. At times, dissertations by unmarried researchers include acknowledgements thanking “my husband” or “my wife,” mistakenly referring to a friend’s spouse. Some pages read, “I am deeply grateful to my supervisor for continuous support, advice, suggestions, and tireless encouragement throughout the study,” even though the supervisor may never have met the student even once. Should one laugh or cry?

There is also a growing misconception that research must be based strictly on primary data. Many insist that “expert opinion doesn’t count, but respondents do.” Thick data requirements, non-numerical support, and deep interpretation are bluntly dismissed. Furthermore, the validity, participation, and honesty of respondents are rarely verified. Questionnaire-based studies often collect opinions rather than factual data. Research is not an election where whatever the majority says becomes truth. If the goal is to gather opinions, the choice of respondents should depend on whether the topic demands the views of the general public or of experts. For instance, if one is researching the usefulness of a political or electoral system, can conclusions be drawn merely by surveying random people on the street? Or is it more logical to sit in a library, study expert literature, examine prior research, and compare practices across countries?

Pushparaj Joshi’s book Research Methodology argues that comparative and analytical desk-based study must occupy a larger space in contemporary research. Nonetheless, the University Grants Commission and universities remain hesitant to recognize desk studies as legitimate research. The UGC tends to value time spent running around fields collecting data as grant-worthy, while time invested in dense comparative analysis grounded in core literature is largely disregarded.

Regardless of the method, once research is completed, publication is desirable. So-called “high-ranked” foreign journals demand exorbitant fees while offering prestige through labels such as Q1 to Q4 and Scopus indexing. At the same time, journals seeking modest collaboration or regional partnerships are branded as “predatory.” As many university research projects are donor-driven, assessment standards have become increasingly distorted. Commercial considerations now overshadow scholarly collaboration, turning publication into a transactional rather than intellectual exercise.

Recent data show that only seven medical science journals from our country are listed in these self-proclaimed, dollar-fee-driven rankings. No journals from other disciplines are included. In the social sciences, publication criteria appear heavily biased toward Western preconceptions and colonial narcissism. To secure space, publications must shape conclusions to fit Eurocentric narratives of supremacy—alongside paying hefty processing or publication fees.

How long will our universities continue to apply foreign and biased standards to evaluate local academic work? When will we break the illusion that “foreign” automatically means “international”? Is something international because of borders, or because of standards? The irony is that even the publications of our own universities and the University Grants Commission are excluded from these inflated and questionable rankings. 

There is also no shortage of “scholars” who possess negligible and nondescript publications of their own but are experts at offering heavy-handed advice to others. Another troubling aspect is the contradictory feedback given by evaluators. Many internal and external examiners speak superficially and in violation of basic research principles. This contributor has frequently witnessed reviewers contradicting their own earlier advice. Some say, “It’s not correct,” yet fail to explain what is wrong or how it can be corrected. Such distortions damage the very core of research.

Recently, a friend who claimed to have strong research skills bragged, “You don’t need to work hard anymore. Just give clear prompts or bullet points to ChatGPT, and it will instantly prepare a research article. Then you can submit it wherever you want.” Such remarks instantly dim whatever little enthusiasm and commitment remain. Due to the negligence of both researchers and regulatory bodies, genuine dedication to research is steadily being discouraged. Research was once an extraordinary and sacred mission. Today, it has been reduced to a cheap joke.

The last few generations have grown up believing that schools are places of learning while prisons are popularly perceived as stations of punishment eventually intended for improvisation or reformation. Despite having clear and unassailable distinctions, if we look closely, the line between the two sometimes feels blurred these days; and, sadly, the first is inheriting qualities of the latter. Globally, prisons are now being proactively reimagined as reform centers, but our schools, ironically, are increasingly resembling as sites of sentencing or tantamount to quasi-prisons.

Government and community schoolteachers in the nation are often and repeatedly protesting, inter alia, on demand of professional growth and security while nearly 7.5m students are grappling for the commendable academic characters and conducts. Some semi-possessed reporting from the government agencies confirm that—among schoolable children—around 60 percent flow to government schools and the rest in private ones, which are mushrooming from major thoroughfares to every nook and corners of cities plus suburbs. 

In cities, however, nearly 80 percent of children are boarded in private institutions. For parents willing to enroll their wards in privately-owned schools, choosing it becomes one of the stressful decisions, often driven by convenience, family relocation, standard complex or peer pressure. Schools, meanwhile, compete with one another through flashy banners, glossy advertisements and promises of modern facilities, quality education, holistic development and myriads of other magnificent commitments. An ingrained obsession of presenting self as bigger and better schools has been an indefensibly burdensome luxury that many are professedly proclaiming. Nonetheless, most of the claims are mere meaningless myths.  

Meaningless myth

A dangerous misconception has taken root and often been tough to be chopped out: the idea that schools with skyrocketing buildings, multiplexes, exorbitant fees, techno-driven show-ups, lifts and swimming pools and larger enrollments are automatically the best. In truth, the smaller the class size, the greater the attention a child receives, and the more effective the learning goes. Schools should be foundations, carefully laying down habits and curiosity. 

Universities, by contrast, are where specialized and collective mass learning happens. At the very crude stage of experiencing academic milieu and joy, many schools are pompously heading to burden the fresh cum immature minds with unreasonable overloads that ultimately rankles them remarkably in regular course of their later academic entourage. Learning in the first phase of schooling in home-spawn context and language may be pretty easy and evidently doable as well.

Contrary to the utmost sense, many schools are distorting pre-supposed fine-tuned balance by utterly overburdening children with an obsession for English from the very earliest grades. Language is important, but it is only a medium—not the destination. What truly matters is the ability to think, to reason, to feel, to conceptualize and to cognate. Instead of nurturing these qualities, some schools prioritize rote memorization of English words, producing students who may sound fluent but lack critical and creative thoughts. The eventual outcome is mere English-murmuring machines, not independent thinkers.

Another problem lies in the weight of expectations—sometimes literally. In many cases, the schoolbag of almost all children is almost as heavy as the children themselves. Exacerbating the situation, countless textbooks and impractically time-consuming overload of homework have turned learning into drudgery and have even disturbingly occupied the parents in most cases.

Students who are deprived of adequate rest, who are frightened of not completing assignments or who equate school with fear are unlikely to develop a lifelong love of learning. Surveys show that parents often end up helping their children late into the night, feeding them as they scribble homework. Schools that pile on such busy work are not raising resilient learners but anxious children who see school as a place of punishment rather than discovery. The balance between envisioning, expectation and experience is quite brittle.

Brittle balance 

What is forgotten is that true education extends beyond classrooms and assignments. Expected academic growth and shrewd sense also stems from simple conversations with parents, sharing what one has learnt, playing with friends, helping at home, joining in community life and creatively engaging into disseminating their learning among pals and parents. These activities not only strengthen academic foundations but also foster mental health and social maturity. Unfortunately, many private schools have remained deliberately indifferent and malignant to accept the fact and adopt the appropriate mechanism in this front. 

Adding to the burden, the culture of multitasking mania has been a perishing pleasure. After long school hours, children are often pushed into music, dance, drawing, karate, swimming, horse riding—even archery—without any thought for their actual interests or capacities. Parents, eager to provide everything, risk overwhelming their children in the process. For some, the exhaustion begins with the time commute: hours on a bus to and from school. Fatigue alone can kill curiosity to a great extent. 

Many such things posed and impulsively prescribed to children are proscribing the natural growth, usual mastery and expected smartness. In fact, deposited anticipations are stymied and unknowingly preempted.  

Ironically, earlier generations who began as average students often grew stronger over time. Through gradual self-learning and hard work, they matured by the time higher education determined their career avenues. They knew the value of effort and were motivated to succeed evidently at the level which would capaciously contribute to the projected processional path.

Today, many students are excessively overloaded at the school level but they grow disillusioned when reaching university. In fact, many are found to have fully lost the energy, interest, aura and passion for learning given the pressure and stress in schools. The crucial stage of education meant to shape their professions receives them burnt-out, lax and indifferent. Statistics show students excelling at school but increasingly faltering in higher education, eventually leveling out as average in professional life.

The world’s best education systems share a common trait: school learning is easy, natural and enjoyable. Rigorous hard work comes later, but the school years prioritize growth in line with a child’s natural rhythm. A stone house may appear plain but is sturdy, hygienic and lasting; a glass palace may dazzle but is fragile and fleeting. Flashy, expensive, “hi-fi” schooling is the glass palace—grand in appearance, obviously unsustainable in reality.

Time to reflect

As parents, everyone must pause. Each ought to question: are we sending children to schools that nurture curiosity, resilience and social maturity? Or are we, perhaps unintentionally, placing them in educational prisons—burdened by books, trapped by homework and locked in a cycle of anxiety?

The answer depends not on how tall the building is or how expensive the fees are, but on how well the school balances academic rigor with natural growth, creativity and humanity. Are we schooling our wards on fashion or mission? The reality is that learners are grounded rather than growing, by and large.