Global rankings for 2025 have triggered fresh bouts of soul-searching within India’s higher education sector. While explanations abound—from resource limitations to lack of internationalisation—one critical but under-recognised factor continues to undermine true educational excellence quietly: India’s near-unchallenged obsession with prolonged, in-class direct teaching and rigid requirements for on-campus presence. This deep-seated attachment to the classroom as the central, even exclusive, site of learning is symptomatic of broader systemic problems, and urgently demands reflection.
The current controversy at the University of Delhi over the mandated 12-hour daily on-campus presence for students is both emblematic and alarming. Why do our institutions cling so stubbornly to the notion that more hours corralled in classrooms necessarily translates into better learning? And, more importantly, what do we lose by doing so, both as individuals and as a collective academic community aspiring towards global standards?
To understand this persistence, one must reach back to the origins of the ‘factory model’ of education, devised during colonial and industrial times to produce disciplined, predictable workers rather than intellectually-agile citizens. Indian academia has inherited not just the infrastructure but also the attitudes of this antiquated, control-centred approach. We have equated rigorous supervision with quality, time in class with learning, and discipline with genuine engagement.
However, research in educational psychology and the lived experience of leading universities worldwide have since revealed that this equation is flawed. Global pedagogical thought, influenced by figures such as Lev Vygotsky, Jean Piaget and John Dewey, champions the idea that knowledge is actively constructed, not passively absorbed. Learning is context-rich, socially mediated and deeply self-directed. And yet, in India, the ‘teacher as sole authority, student as vessel’ model persists, out-of-step with both research and the demands of the 21st century.
Holding to this model comes at a cost. Students, forced to sit through hour after hour of top-down instruction, may appear compliant, but genuine engagement with content—deep, critical learning—wanes. When the academic calendar is crammed with contact hours, students have little time for essential independent reading, interdisciplinary exploration, or the solitary acts of thinking and reflecting that university life should offer.
This approach underestimates students’ maturity and capacity for self-regulation, resulting in what Paulo Freire termed the ‘infantilisation’ of learners. Students, policed and over-scheduled, are given scant practice in taking initiative, a crucial skill as adults and global citizens. The rationale, often stated, that busy timetables keep students “out of trouble” is not just patronising, but fundamentally at odds with the purpose of higher education, which is to nurture independent thinkers and responsible actors.
Moreover, the toll of such prolonged sedentary, passive engagement is not just cognitive, but also physical. Studies highlight increased risks of back pain, poor fitness and rising anxiety among students; compounded by cognitive fatigue and diminished motivation. Research in cognitive psychology, such as the well-known ‘spacing effect’, finds that distributed, active engagement fosters deeper, longer-lasting learning than uninterrupted content delivery. Yet, these are ignored.
Nor are teachers spared the consequences. Faculty members tasked with delivering day-long lectures lose out on precious time for research, curriculum innovation and individual mentoring. When exhaustion becomes routine, the entire institution suffers. Staff morale plummets, creativity is stifled, and research productivity falls—all factors that global rankings penalise. The result is a loss of institutional vitality and the intergenerational transmission of low aspirations.
Contrast this with the world’s best universities. In the US, Europe, and parts of East Asia, students may spend fewer formal hours in class, but are trusted and expected to learn independently, collaborate with peers, engage in real-world projects, and participate in diverse experiential learning opportunities. The university campus is not just a collection of classrooms, but a vibrant ecosystem: libraries, labs, community sites, workshops, and discussion forums are part of the extended learning environment.
Reform at the institutional level requires a shift in mindset from control to facilitation. It means recognising that genuine academic excellence arises not from surveillance and compulsion, but from empowerment and trust. As Malcolm Knowles’ andragogy (adult learning theory) emphasises, university students are adults; their learning thrives when self-directed, relevant, and problem-based.
Change requires courage from university leaders—deans, vice chancellors and policymakers—ready to challenge old assumptions, listen to students and faculty and learn from global evidence. Policies must focus on the fundamental objective of universities: nurturing critical, lifelong learners who can contribute meaningfully in a complex world. Faculty, students, and civil society also share the responsibility to drive this change.
The essence of a great university is its ability to liberate learning from the confines of both walls and the clock, fostering curiosity, autonomy, and resilience. If we aspire for our universities to truly excel, the answer is more trust, freedom, flexibility, and intellectual adventure.
John J Kennedy | Former professor and Dean, G Christ (Deemed) University, Bengaluru
(Views are personal)
(johnjken@gmail.com)