The Robodog!

On my third day at a private university, I was told, “We are a family here.” In academia, that usually means follow the hierarchy without paperwork. And it means

“don’t start the email culture to keep records.”

I was hired in a senior role to build research networks, create international collaborations, and launch a new centre. Yes, they promised to support me. Initiative was encouraged. Until I began taking initiative. Soon, I was advised not to meet certain senior authorities directly. Later, I was questioned for not meeting them. Emails were quietly buried. Proposals were praised and indefinitely “under review.” Nothing was rejected. But nothing moved.

You are never told “no.” You are told “let’s see.” Or “What is the priority.”  Repeatedly.

Human Resource departments, meant to support faculty, often function as gatekeepers of access deciding who may speak, who must route communication through whom, and which enthusiasm needs “alignment.”

The message becomes clear; build the institution’s reputation, but do not build your own independent visibility. Eventually, you realise the system is not designed to stop you loudly. It is designed to tire you quietly. They torture you in the best possible ways. They change the time table of classes and you discover you had a so-called class even before you were notified. And they question you for not being there. Just to reiterate authority.

Then they ask you to publish papers and innovate and take patents and what not. They instruct you to do things by hook or crook to build a fake reputation. And specify the ways of crook. Even the ways in which you can create the fake rankings. And this is not told in closed rooms. It is told openly but within the walls of the campus. If you don’t do that, they question you. If you do that, they will not come to bail you out.

Recently, a university made headlines after a technological product displayed as institutional innovation was identified as an existing commercial creation. The controversy did not remain about technology; it settled on the individual who presented it. Statements were issued, clarifications circulated, and the system moved on but the episode quietly reminded many teachers how easily representation becomes responsibility. Sometimes to own peril and no one to hold your hands and cajole you.

Private universities are important for expanding higher education. But when managerial culture overrides academic freedom, universities risk becoming corporations with things which look like classrooms. But are more like shops.

I resigned within months. Not because I failed. But because I understood the architecture. In some institutions, voices are not silenced. They are trained to lower themselves.  And when one voice leaves, another arrives – hopeful, energetic, and unaware of how quiet the corridors can become.