top of page

By:

Sunjay Awate and Dr. Kishore Paknikar

23 October 2025 at 5:20:01 pm

Education for Sale, Conscience on Hold

Globalisation taught the world to look at India as a market first and a culture second. Beauty pageant crowns once signalled the discovery of a lucrative consumer base. A similar shift is unfolding in education, where India’s enormous learner population has turned schooling itself into an export opportunity for others and a purchasing decision for us. India is now the world’s most populous country and has the largest cohort of young people, a demographic fact that powerfully shapes how...

Education for Sale, Conscience on Hold

Globalisation taught the world to look at India as a market first and a culture second. Beauty pageant crowns once signalled the discovery of a lucrative consumer base. A similar shift is unfolding in education, where India’s enormous learner population has turned schooling itself into an export opportunity for others and a purchasing decision for us. India is now the world’s most populous country and has the largest cohort of young people, a demographic fact that powerfully shapes how governments and corporations view the education sector. With India projected by the UN to become the world’s most populous country by 2023, our classrooms represent the largest learner base on the planet. This is why headlines now highlight foreign campuses and cross-border degree pipelines. During the UK Prime Minister’s October 2025 visit, Britain confirmed that its universities will establish new campuses in India, calling this a growth opportunity for its economy—presenting higher education as a tradable service. At least two UK universities, Lancaster and Surrey, have received approval, with several more in discussions. The framework comes from the 2022–23 regulations that allowed select foreign universities to establish independent campuses, following early examples like Deakin University at GIFT City. The term “education export” reveals that degrees, brands, and syllabi now move across borders much like any other commodity. Coaching economy Yet, an abundance of providers does not equate to an abundance of education. Over the past few decades, coaching, once a modest aid for board exams, has grown into a parallel system that shapes academic futures and often impacts family finances. Kota’s expansion into a coaching hub exemplifies this shift, with a student population exceeding 150,000 before the pandemic and approximately 30 student suicides recorded in 2023. The market now starts before school and continues after graduation. ‘Garbha sanskar’ packages complement ‘nursery admissions consulting,’ followed by bundled test prep for IIT-JEE, NEET, UPSC, and state civil services. Each stage leads to hostels, study rooms, subscription platforms, and financing options. Meanwhile, public recruitment declines, and many graduates, including engineers, turn toward government exams, increasing demand for more coaching. The private cost of schooling rises, but the public benefits in scientific ability, civic skills, and social empathy are less certain. ASER 2023 found that over half of rural youth aged 14–18 cannot solve a basic three-digit division, and about a quarter struggle to read a Grade-II text fluently. Even as access expands, real learning often stalls. Moral compass This moral tension has long been identified by thinkers who saw education as more than just job training. Rabindranath Tagore insisted that learning must connect children with nature and community, allowing minds “to stumble upon and be surprised.” Jiddu Krishnamurti warned that conformity stifles intelligence; he believed the purpose of education is to help learners see through thought patterns that trap them. Both advocates emphasized curiosity and inner freedom over compliance. Sir Ken Robinson, in his famous 2006 TED Talk, echoed this concern: “Creativity is as important as literacy.” He noted that when schools suppress imagination, they produce generations of risk-averse adults. A. P. J. Abdul Kalam added an ethical perspective: “The purpose of education is to make good human beings with skill and expertise,” intentionally placing goodness before skill. Later, economist Amartya Sen offered a structured framework - the capability approach - which defines development as the expansion of people’s real freedoms. An education that limits options through fear or strict sorting, by this standard, is a failure. Measured against these standards, much of modern practice seems misaligned. Middle school students prepare for professional entrance exams before discovering their own interests. Parents choose brands instead of educational methods. Universities promote placements more than research labs. Employers complain that graduates lack problem-solving and writing skills. The highly educated often seem least connected to the community. We are marketing children for a market rather than preparing citizens for society. India’s path forward need not be nostalgic. It can rebuild purpose through evidence-based reform, by prioritizing educational intent over mere access. Foreign campuses permitted in India should invest part of their effort in strengthening domestic research, especially in basic sciences that fuel innovation. With its vast youth base, India can revive physics and mathematics alongside software studies, nurturing inquiry-driven rather than placement-driven learning. The tyranny of single-shot, high-stakes exams must give way to modular assessments that allow multiple attempts and feedback loops. International evidence shows that spreading evaluation over time improves both learning and mental health. Curiosity must be reintroduced into early education. Tagore’s nature-rich classrooms and Krishnamurti’s emphasis on self-awareness are now reflected in outdoor science lessons, local history walks, civic projects, school gardens, maker spaces and revival of art and music. Governments must invest profoundly in teachers. A teacher’s development, research time, and well-being must be regarded as national assets. Finally, recognize student mental health as essential infrastructure. Every district should have trained counsellors, confidential helplines, and parent education programs. The civic purpose of education also needs to be restored. An educated person should be able to identify species in a neighbourhood park, write a letter to a local government office, explain why local elections matter, and volunteer without expecting recognition. A system that prepares children solely for markets may produce efficient workers and anxious adults. A system that educates for freedom fosters confident innovators and compassionate citizens. Tagore wanted minds that could be surprised; Krishnamurti wanted minds that could be free; Robinson wanted schools that honour creativity; Kalam wanted education to make good human beings; Sen wanted development to be freedom. Learning, at its best, expands life itself. Unless we accept this truth, our children will grow up beautifully wrapped yet empty inside. (Sunjay Awate is an Editor with Lokmat, Pune; Dr Kishore Paknikar is the former Director, Agharkar Research Institute, Pune and Visiting Professor, Indian Institute of Technology Bombay. Views personal.)

Height of double standards

The CPI(M)’s selective secularism has long treated Hindu customs as dangerous while shielding minority faiths and its own red orthodoxy.

ree

In Kerala, where portraits of Karl Marx and Vladimir Lenin still gaze down from village halls and red flags flutter undisturbed from coconut palms, it is no surprise that Hindu symbols have long provoked official censure.


But of late, the barometer for Hindu ‘intolerance’ in the state governed by Pinarayi Vijayan’s Communist Party of India (Marxist) has risen drastically. Saffron flags, devotional songs, temple rituals have been increasingly cast as ‘political acts,’ especially if they echo the cadence of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS).


Hinduism is now under increased surveillance with the government turning temples into ideological minefields. The latest controversy over a devotional song linked to the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), sung at a temple festival, offers more than just a local cultural skirmish. The CPI(M)’s attempt to reengineer Hindu religious life under the guise of secularism, while granting safe passage to symbols and slogans drawn from its own ideological arsenal, underscores a deeper malaise long plaguing Kerala’s ostensibly ‘secular’ ethos.


In April this year, the singing of an RSS ‘gana geetham’ (devotional song) at the Manjippuzha Sree Bhagavathy Bhadrakali Temple in Kottukkal had triggered a flurry of complaints and condemnations. A member of the temple’s advisory committee lodged a formal complaint, prompting the police to investigate. That the song was sung on audience request and without overt political messaging did not matter. Nor did it help that the musical troupe was not affiliated with the RSS but had merely included the song at the urging of a local sponsor.


But just weeks earlier at the Kadakkal Devi temple, revolutionary songs in praise of the CPI(M) had been performed during a religious festival. The irony is inescapable: ‘red’ slogans are welcomed into temples, but ‘saffron’ hymns are chased out.


This double standard hardly new. In 2023, the Kerala police ordered temple organisers in Thiruvananthapuram’s Vellayani to remove saffron flags and bunting for the annual Bhadrakali festival and replace them with multi-coloured decorations, citing potential law-and-order concerns. The order came despite the status accorded to saffron as a sacred colour in Hinduism, standing for purity, sacrifice and transcendence. At the time, a number of Hindu outfits decried the move as part of a broader campaign on part of Vijayan’s government to dilute and deracinate Hindu symbolism under a secularist cloak. But the campaign nonetheless continues.


That same year, the Kerala High Court ruled that saffron flags associated with the RSS could not be installed at temple sites, while claiming that temples should remain apolitical spaces. But the ruling has been applied selectively. The red flags of the CPI(M), whose hammer-and-sickle imagery draws from a foreign and explicitly atheistic tradition, are routinely seen in temple festivals, especially in northern Kerala. The CPI(M)’s own mass organisations, such as the Democratic Youth Federation of India (DYFI), have at times marched through temple towns with party flags, chants and banners in hand.


Historically, the CPI(M) in Kerala has always walked a tightrope between its ideological atheism and the cultural religiosity of its electorate. For decades, it sought to ‘reform’ Hinduism through the lens of class struggle, using temple boards and cultural institutions as tools of ideological engineering. In the 1980s and ’90s, the party promoted ‘rationalist’ interpretations of Hindu texts and supported so-called ‘progressive’ temple reforms. Yet, paradoxically, this same party never dared interfere with the rituals of other faiths.


When protests erupted in 2021 over the film ‘The Kerala Story,’ which dealt with alleged religious conversions of Hindu women, CPI(M) leaders dismissed it as “Sangh propaganda.”


Even more revealing was the 2018 Sabarimala controversy, when the CPI(M)-led government deployed thousands of police personnel to enforce a Supreme Court verdict allowing women of menstruating age to enter the famed hill shrine. The move, carried out in the face of widespread opposition from Ayyappa devotees, was seen not as a defence of judicial authority but as a blunt instrument to force ‘modernist’ ideology into ritualistic practice. Despite protests flaring across the state, the CPI(M) remained unmoved, branding all its critics as ‘communal.’


The party’s defenders argue that it is merely upholding constitutional secularism and ensuring that temples are not politicised. But this defence collapses under scrutiny. For one, the state continues to exercise vast control over Hindu temples through Devaswom Boards, whose members are political appointees. These boards often act as ideological enforcers rather than neutral custodians. No such control exists over mosques or churches, which manage their own affairs. For another, the idea that saffron is inherently political is disingenuous. Saffron pre-dates the RSS by millennia. To treat it as a partisan emblem is to distort both history and faith.


Temples are subject to intense monitoring, while Marxist pageantry enters sacred spaces without protest. If temples are truly to be apolitical, then all ideological incursions must be banned, red as much as saffron. Anything less is hypocrisy masquerading as secularism.


Kerala is often hailed as a model for literacy, health, and progressive governance. But its so-called secularism has essentially translated as state-sponsored hostility to Hindu identity. The CPI(M)’s zeal to exorcise one colour from the cultural fabric while allowing another to thrive betrays a deep ideological insecurity. It suggests that the party fears saffron not because it is political, but because it speaks a language of devotion that Marxist materialism cannot comprehend or co-opt.

Comments


bottom of page