Affirmative action policies based on race in American universities are well known. Another less recognised but widely practised policy in elite American institutions involves favouring the children of alumni, known as legacy admissions. Legacy applicants have 3–10 times higher admission chances compared to regular applicants. The deleterious effects of this policy are being widely debated, and many universities are abandoning it. Fortunately, in India, it is unlikely we’ll discuss such policies soon. One reason is that we don’t implement such policies, but sadly, another reason is that most of our legacy institutions, once renowned for quality teaching, teachers, and institutional gravitas, have lost their appeal to today’s students and parents. These institutions have been overshadowed and outranked by newer establishments. I daresay that this is true for almost all institutions at every level of education and in every part of the country.
This train of thought was triggered by a recent conversation with a highly accomplished 60-year-old Bengaluru-based industrialist from a family of distinguished engineers. He proudly told me that he was a third-generation student at UVCE and shared many wonderful experiences with his family at that institution. Then there was a moment of awkward silence. I held back the natural question of why his children did not continue the tradition and create fourth-generation alumni; he tried steering the conversation away from this trajectory. His story is not unique; for most alumni from that time, UVCE was their first choice, while for their children, it was not even close.
This led me to research UVCE’s past. Its graduates from its glory days have brought glory to India. For instance, out of the fifteen or so engineers that have been awarded the Padma Vibhushan, three are from UVCE. A proud achievement for an institution conceived and executed by, and named after, a Bharat Ratna. So, to adapt Maria from The Sound of Music, “somewhere in its youth it must have done something good.” However, we have not been good to this hallowed institution and given it the life that Maria got. Instead, it has been given Ajit’s liquid oxygen treatment: isey liquid oxygen mein daal do; liquid isey jeene nahi dega; oxygen isey marne nahin dega” (Put him in liquid oxygen; the liquid won’t let him live and the oxygen will not let him die). Perhaps Ajit’s lament, “Dekh teri sansar ki haalat kya ho gaya bhagwan,” is apt.
UVCE’s story is not unique. Across the road is Central College, an institution with an even longer legacy and stellar alumni; it is the alma mater of the only scientist Bharat Ratna, C N R Rao (other than C V Raman), and has a long list of distinguished scientists and writers. Not far away is Maharani’s College, a pioneer in women’s education in India. Much like the proximal institutions around the world, these institutions had strong synergy, with teachers crossing over to teach at the neighbouring institute being de rigueur. One can only imagine the level of scholarship and intellectual ferment that this would have engendered. It would not be a stretch to say that these institutions have seen far better days than their current state indicates. A profound sadness creeps in when one tries to ask, “Why did we let this happen?” The usual clutch of reasons get trotted out: government policies, interference, and declining work culture.
There is some truth to this. Take, for example, the regulatory changes at a typical engineering college from, say, 1980. Being affiliated with one of the big three universities until then, it was shifted to a new university in 1980, then to VTU (1997), then made autonomous (circa 2005), and then perhaps became a private university (circa 2015). In the meantime, it had to follow UGC and AICTE regulations, NAAC accreditation requirements, file NIRF documentation, and follow NEP guidelines. I am sure I have missed some. All this while dealing with uncertainties in academic calendars stemming from flexi-dates of government-mediated admission processes and flexi-funding and flexi-norms for resource (human and capital) development arising from oft-shifting priorities and policies.
It could also just be that that is how we are—quick to jettison the current favourite and gravitate to a new shiny object; lacking the patience to nurture old faithfuls and instead home in on younger hopefuls. Arguably, this is inefficient. Losing revered institutions erases valuable lessons embedded in traditions and institutional memory. This is not to say that we should not establish new institutions, but we should not lose the legacy ones. While we celebrate our glorious ancient past, we must also retain and nurture our glorious institutions of the recent past.
So, what’s the solution? Assuming that the government and the public are its oxygen, the answer is simple: provide significant capital, appoint capable leadership, and allow them autonomy by leaving them alone. Check back periodically—once every ten years—to make minor course corrections. All the major institutions in the world have grown this way. `Helicopter parenting’ by the government is detrimental. Instead, peer pressure and the marketplace will give them the right trajectory. Yes, there will be a few bad apples, but that is par for the course; the majority will do much better than what they are doing right now. Try it; it cannot get any worse.
Before concluding, it is worth noting that there is at least one notable exception to this slide—the Indian Institute of Science. The slope there is all very positive. Let’s hope that some of its shine rubs off on our other legacy institutions and that they soon regain their old glory with alumni and interested citizens leading the charge.
(The writer teaches at IIT-Bombay)