Tuesday, 8 September 2026

Academia, Apparently: Where Critical Thinking Goes to Take a Holiday


Being in academia sometimes feels like rage bait.

Every day, something happens that makes you wonder whether you are actually inside an educational institution or merely trapped in a very elaborate social experiment designed to test how much nonsense a person can hear before their eye starts twitching.

And the irony is that academia is supposed to be the place where we question things.

We are supposed to debate.

We are supposed to disagree.

We are supposed to challenge authority, examine social structures, question assumptions, and—heaven forbid—have opinions of our own. But apparently, there is a handbook somewhere that says critical thinking is encouraged only when it doesn't make anyone uncomfortable.

  • Apparently, Women Are Still a Syllabus Topic

People are invited to schools and colleges to speak about serious subjects such as addiction, education, youth, morality, and social responsibility.

And somehow, miraculously, the conversation finds its way back to women.

More specifically, how women should be good daughters, good wives, good sisters, good mothers, and good whatever society currently requires them to be.

Because apparently, even a discussion about addiction cannot escape the urgent national emergency of teaching women how to behave.

The misogyny is sometimes so deeply embedded that people don't even recognise it anymore.

At one such discussion, a speaker apparently gave an example about a young girl who went to a fair, bought a doll, and then bought a dupatta for the doll.

And nearly 35 people applauded.

Thirty-five.

What exactly were we applauding?

  • A child playing with a doll?
  • A piece of fabric?
  • Or the idea that a girl putting a dupatta on a doll is somehow evidence that she is learning how a “good woman” should behave?

Because apparently, even a child's toy needs a dress code now.

Why must a girl's clothing become a moral lesson?

Why does a dupatta have to represent modesty, virtue, femininity, or obedience?

A girl playing with a doll is a girl playing with a doll.

But somehow, we repeatedly turn women's clothes, bodies, relationships, sexuality, and behaviour into moral examinations.

And then we wonder why women grow up believing that they are constantly being watched and evaluated.

  • Apparently, Some Politicians Are Above Criticism

You can discuss almost anything in an academic setting until you accidentally say something critical about someone's favourite politician.

Then suddenly, the atmosphere changes.

Nobody has to explicitly tell you to shut up.

That's the interesting part.

It's an unspoken rule.

An unspoken warning.

A strange little invisible boundary that everyone seems to know exists.

You learn:

  • Which names are safe.
  • Which opinions are acceptable.
  • Which criticisms will make the room uncomfortable.
  • Which subjects you should avoid.

Eventually, you start censoring yourself before anyone even has to censor you.

But why?

Why aren't students supposed to have their own opinions?

Isn't academia supposed to encourage disagreement?

If I disagree with a politician, why should that be treated as some kind of personal betrayal?

If students can't question politicians, institutions, social norms, religious authority, or even their teachers, then what exactly are we teaching them?

That critical thinking is acceptable only when the conclusion has already been approved?

That isn't education.

That's obedience with a degree attached.

  •  A Teacher's Brilliant Career Advice

And then comes another story.

A teacher who teaches sociology once had the audacity to tell a woman colleague that the best way for a woman to build a career is to marry a wealthy man.

A teacher.

I almost admire the commitment to irony.

Imagine teaching sociology—a subject that deals with society, inequality, class, gender, family, institutions, and power—and then telling an educated woman that her best career strategy is to find a rich husband.

Forget:

  • Education.
  • Qualifications.
  • Examinations.
  • Fellowships.
  • Teaching positions.
  • Research.
  • Professional experience.

Apparently, the academic career plan is:

Step 1: Find a rich man.
Step 2: Marry the rich man.
Step 3: Congratulations. Career achieved.

And the funniest part is when people confidently give career advice without even understanding the structure of the profession they are advising someone about.

Women don't need husbands as career plans.

They need:

  • Education.
  • Opportunities.
  • Fair pay.
  • Professional respect.
  • Financial independence.
  • Freedom of choice.

And most importantly, they need the freedom to decide whether marriage is even something they want.

A woman's husband is not a résumé.

Marriage is not a government job.

And a wealthy husband is certainly not a substitute for a career.

  •  Then We Invite Spiritual Gurus to Teach Young People How to Live

This one genuinely fascinates me.

Schools and colleges invite Swamis and Sadhus to speak to students about life, morality, discipline, relationships, responsibility, success, and spirituality.

And I have a genuine question:

How does someone who has deliberately renounced ordinary family life automatically become the unquestionable authority on how young people should navigate ordinary family life?

To be clear, choosing a spiritual life is a personal decision.

If someone genuinely wants to leave worldly life and dedicate themselves to spirituality, that's their choice.

But if you've deliberately stepped away from ordinary responsibilities involving family, career, relationships, finances, and domestic life, why should that automatically make you an expert on how everyone else should manage those very things?

Students are dealing with:

  • Career anxiety.
  • Education.
  • Unemployment.
  • Family pressure.
  • Financial problems.
  • Relationships.
  • Social expectations.
  • The uncertainty of becoming an adult.

And then someone who has chosen to live outside many of those realities is brought into a college and presented as a life guru.

Questioning that isn't disrespect.

It's literally the critical thinking we're supposedly trying to teach students.

  • The Sacred Academic Philosophy: “Money Isn't Important”

This is perhaps my favourite.

Especially when it comes from someone earning ₹1 lakh or more a month.

“Money isn't important.”

Beautiful.

Inspirational.

Profound.

And then comes the historical evidence:

“When we were freshers, we used to teach for free.”

Yes.

You did.

Thirty years ago.

The economy has changed.

  • The cost of living has changed.
  • Housing has changed.
  • Education has changed.
  • Employment has changed.
  • Healthcare has changed.
  • Inflation has changed.

But apparently, the calendar has not moved since your youth.

I have just one small request.

If money truly isn't important, please skip one month's salary.

Just one.

No need to resign.

No need to become a monk.

Just let that month's salary remain in the institution's account and experience the beautiful spiritual freedom of discovering that your electricity bill, groceries, rent, medical expenses, and other obligations apparently also believe that money isn't important.

Because I absolutely love the way people romanticise their own struggles and then prescribe those struggles to everyone else.

  •  “We Managed With Less” Is Not an Economic Argument

“When we were young, we managed with less.”

Wonderful.

But you were young then.

People are young now.

Your economic circumstances were not necessarily the same as theirs.

Not everyone has the same life.

Some people are:

  • The sole breadwinners of their families.
  • Supporting their parents.
  • Paying medical bills.
  • Paying rent.
  • Paying loans.
  • Funding further education.
  • Travelling long distances to work.
  • Building a career without a financial safety net.

And yes, some people buy books.

Some buy skincare.

Some order clothes.

Some buy something simply because they like it.

Shocking.

Apparently, once you become financially responsible, you're supposed to survive exclusively on academic PDFs, moral superiority, and oxygen.

But somehow, the person delivering this lecture can comfortably enjoy their own salary and lifestyle.

  • “I Survived Without It” Does Not Mean “Nobody Needs It”

This distinction is important.

“I survived without it.”

and

“Nobody needs it.”

are not the same sentence.

Your life is not an economic textbook.

Your struggles are not universal law.

You survived your circumstances.

Congratulations.

But that doesn't mean everyone else should be forced to reproduce them.

If you had to work for free thirty years ago, I'm genuinely sorry.

But today's young teachers don't have to work for free simply because you did.

Progress means the next generation gets better conditions than the previous one.

We should not romanticise hardship simply because someone survived it.

Suffering is not a professional qualification.

Skip a month's salary.

We'll wait.

I'm sure the electricity company will be deeply moved when you explain that money is merely an illusion.

  •  The Problem Isn't Religion, Politics, or Tradition. It's Hypocrisy.

This isn't an argument against:

  • Religion.
  • Spirituality.
  • Politicians.
  • Older generations.
  • Tradition.
  • Different personal values.

The problem is hypocrisy.

The problem is when personal beliefs become universal rules.

When women are expected to follow moral standards that men aren't held to.

When a woman's clothing becomes a measure of her character.

When someone preaches detachment while being deeply attached to power.

When someone preaches simplicity while enjoying luxury.

When someone preaches humility while demanding unquestioned respect.

When someone tells young people that money doesn't matter while comfortably collecting their own salary.

When someone tells women to marry wealthy men instead of developing their careers.

When an academic institution invites a speaker and then treats everything that speaker says as sacred instead of allowing students to question it.

And perhaps most disturbingly, when an entire room applauds these ideas.

  •  Applause Matters

Applause isn't meaningless.

It tells young people which ideas are socially acceptable.

It normalises things that should be questioned.

It teaches students what they are expected to believe before they have even had the chance to form their own opinions.

So what exactly is education supposed to do?

I don't want an academic institution where everyone agrees with me.

That would be boring.

I don't want every speaker to have the same worldview.

That would be pointless.

And I certainly don't want students to blindly agree with professors, politicians, religious figures, or even me.

I want students to question.

Invite the Swami.

Let him speak.

Then let students ask uncomfortable questions.

Invite the politician.

Let them speak.

Then let students criticise their policies.

Invite the professor.

Then let students disagree with their arguments.

Talk about morality.

Then allow students to ask who created those moral standards—and whom they benefit.

Talk about women.

Then allow women to say:

“I don't agree.”

Talk about money.

Then allow young professionals to say:

“Actually, I need enough of it to live.”

That is education.

  •  What Academia Should Actually Teach

Education isn't supposed to manufacture obedient people.

It is supposed to create people capable of thinking for themselves.

A woman should not need to be a good daughter, wife, sister, and mother before she is allowed to be considered a good human being.

A young teacher should not have to apologise for wanting a decent salary.

A student should not be afraid to criticise a politician.

A religious figure should not become immune to questions simply because they wear certain clothes.

And a person's age does not automatically turn their past into universal wisdom.

Maybe the greatest lesson academia can teach is a very simple one:

You are allowed to question me.

You are allowed to disagree.

You are allowed to say that something doesn't make sense.

You are allowed to challenge traditions.

You are allowed to challenge authority.

You are allowed to have political opinions.

You are allowed to want money.

You are allowed to want a career.

You are allowed to buy books.

You are allowed to buy skincare.

You are allowed to want marriage.

You are allowed to reject marriage.

You are allowed to be a woman without constantly being evaluated according to how well you perform somebody else's idea of femininity.

And perhaps most importantly:

You are allowed to think.

Because if academia cannot tolerate disagreement, then perhaps the real subject we need to introduce isn't another lecture on morality.

It's Critical Thinking 101.

And judging by some of the things being applauded in these rooms, apparently, we need to make it compulsory.


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