Higher Education – Its Context and Linkages

Rethinking Higher Education in India: Curriculum, Creativity, and Relevance

Last updated on:

September 14, 2025

India’s higher education system serves over 43 million students across nearly 1,100 universities – making it one of the largest in the world. Yet, scale alone does not equal quality. Scratch beneath the surface and a deeper question emerges: what are students actually learning, and does it serve them well? The content of education – what gets taught, in which language, and how – has been shaped by forces that go back nearly two centuries. Understanding these forces is essential for anyone who wants to make sense of where Indian higher education stands today and where it needs to go.

Colonial imprint on curriculum: a legacy that lingers
The rote learning problem: memorising instead of thinking
Why rote learning persists
The language question: English versus Indian languages in higher education
What NEP 2020 proposes – and why it is hard to implement
The future of higher education in India: making it relevant and research-driven
Key reforms needed

Colonial imprint on curriculum: a legacy that lingers

The story of India’s higher education curriculum begins in 1835, with a single document. Thomas Babington Macaulay’s Minute on Indian Education laid out a deliberate plan: replace indigenous knowledge systems with Western learning and produce Indians who were, in his own words, “Indian in blood and colour, but English in taste, in opinions, in morals and in intellect.” This was not merely an educational preference – it was a political strategy.

The English Education Act of 1835 that followed erased Oriental elements from the curriculum entirely. Literature classes shifted to Shakespeare, Addison, and Bacon; Persian classical works were dropped; history lessons emphasized the virtues of British colonialism; and economics was framed through the lens of Western capitalism. Indian students were taught to see their own rich heritage as backward, while European civilization was presented as the pinnacle of human achievement – a phenomenon scholars now describe as “epistemic violence.”

The universities established during this era – Calcutta, Bombay, and Madras in 1857 – were modeled directly on London University. They functioned primarily as examining bodies, not teaching institutions. Their goal was not to develop scholars but to produce a reliable class of clerks and administrators who could keep the colonial machinery running efficiently and cheaply. The curriculum was structured not for intellectual growth, but for administrative utility.

What is perhaps most striking is how little this changed after independence. Even post-1947, many features of colonial education and the tendency to look to the West for models have persisted. Scientific and technological institutes established since independence have been inspired by Western – now largely American – frameworks. The examination-centric approach, rote learning, and hierarchical institutional structures set in place during British rule continue to define how education is experienced by millions of Indian students today.

The rote learning problem: memorising instead of thinking

Ask most students in India what they do before an exam, and the answer is predictable: revise notes, memorise answers, reproduce them on paper. This exam-first, memory-heavy approach was not accidental – it was deliberately designed during the colonial period to produce uniformity and bureaucratic efficiency rather than critical or creative learners. Decades later, the culture has barely shifted.

India’s higher education assessment system remains entrenched in a memorisation-centric model that evaluates students on their ability to recall and reproduce information, rather than their capacity to reason, analyse, or solve problems. Students are rarely encouraged to question, explore alternative viewpoints, or form independent judgements – the very skills that the modern world demands.

Why rote learning persists

Several structural factors keep rote learning in place. High-stakes examinations like board exams, JEE, and NEET create enormous pressure to memorise vast amounts of content, and both students and parents prioritise grades over deeper understanding. Indian classrooms are typically teacher-centred, where students are expected to listen passively rather than participate. Large class sizes and limited resources – especially in rural areas – make interactive, inquiry-based teaching logistically difficult.

The consequences are well-documented. Information memorised without understanding is quickly forgotten. Students pass exams but struggle to apply knowledge in real-world or professional situations. Fewer students pursue research, partly because academic careers are seen as financially unrewarding compared to corporate paths, and partly because the education they received never cultivated the curiosity that research demands.

The National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 explicitly addresses this, emphasising higher-order cognitive skills, experiential learning, and critical thinking across all levels of education. But as researchers note, rote learning is deeply embedded because of large student numbers, examination pressure, and gaps in teacher training – meaning policy intent and classroom reality remain far apart.

The language question: English versus Indian languages in higher education

No debate in Indian education is as layered – or as politically charged – as the question of language. Which language should students learn in? Which language should they use to access knowledge? And which language opens the door to employment and social mobility?

Macaulay’s 1835 policy placed English at the centre of educated life, and vernacular languages were steadily marginalised in higher education and governance through the colonial era. That positioning has barely been dislodged since. In independent India, English has continued to dominate as the language of instruction in higher education, even as the vast majority of students speak and think in their mother tongue throughout their daily lives.

This creates a real pedagogical problem. When instruction takes place in a second language – English – linguistic barriers affect students’ understanding, not the difficulty of the subject itself. Students are expending cognitive energy on translation rather than comprehension, which directly undermines problem-solving and critical thinking.

What NEP 2020 proposes – and why it is hard to implement

NEP 2020 marks a significant shift in policy direction. It mandates mother-tongue instruction at least until Grade 5, recommends its continuation through Grade 8, and encourages higher education institutions to offer courses in regional languages. AICTE has permitted 14 colleges to offer engineering courses in 11 regional languages, including Hindi, Marathi, Bengali, Tamil, Telugu, Kannada, Gujarati, Malayalam, Assamese, Punjabi, and Odia – a meaningful first step.

Yet implementation faces formidable obstacles. Attracting and retaining quality faculty willing to teach in regional languages is a significant challenge, given the English-medium legacy of most institutions. Textbooks and scholarly literature in many regional languages are scarce, and the shift risks placing students at a disadvantage in global academic and labour markets where English fluency matters. A 2022 ASER survey found increasing parental demand for English-medium education, reflecting the social and economic pressures that make families wary of regional-language schooling.

The honest answer is that neither pure English-medium nor an abrupt shift to regional languages alone serves India’s diverse, multilingual student population well. A bilingual approach – strengthening Indian languages while maintaining English competency – is widely seen as the more equitable and practical path forward. Initiatives like AICTE’s Anuvadini translation app and the Commission for Scientific and Technical Terminology’s compilation of over 30 lakh scientific terms in 22 Indian languages are early steps in building the infrastructure that a genuine transition would require.

The future of higher education in India: making it relevant and research-driven

India has one of the world’s largest higher education systems, with over 58,000 institutions. But quantity is not quality, and enrolment numbers mask a deeper crisis: India’s employability rate stood at just 54.81% in 2024, pointing to a severe mismatch between what universities teach and what society actually needs.

The research ecosystem tells a similar story. India’s spending on research and development as a proportion of GDP remains low, limiting innovation. Most colleges and universities have historically been teaching-focused, with little incentive or infrastructure for faculty to pursue original research. The culture of intellectual inquiry that research requires – asking questions that do not yet have answers – was never a feature of the colonial model, and it has not been adequately cultivated since.

Key reforms needed

NEP 2020 charts an ambitious course. The policy proposes a shift from rigid silos to flexible, multidisciplinary, learner-centred models – including four-year undergraduate programmes with multiple exit points, an Academic Bank of Credits for lifelong learning, and the phasing out of the college affiliation system to allow institutions greater curricular autonomy.

A dedicated National Research Foundation (NRF) is proposed to strengthen the research ecosystem, working alongside the Atal Innovation Mission to support startups and campus incubators. Top universities in India are beginning to hire faculty with a specific focus on research, a shift from the earlier teaching-only paradigm. Flagship Multidisciplinary Education and Research Universities (MERUs) are also being established, with dedicated funding under PM-USHA.

Beyond policy, three things are essential for genuine transformation. First, curriculum must be redesigned to reflect India’s own social, cultural, and scientific realities – not just imported frameworks. NEP 2020 explicitly calls for curriculum rooted in Indian and local contexts, integrating Indian Knowledge Systems including traditional medicine, ecological practices, astronomy, and philosophy alongside modern disciplines. Second, assessment must change. As long as examinations only reward memorisation, students will continue to memorise. Assessments need to evaluate reasoning, creativity, and the ability to apply knowledge. Third, teacher preparation must improve. Continuous professional development for teachers is essential to implement new pedagogical approaches – teachers who were themselves trained through rote-based methods cannot be expected to instinctively teach otherwise.

India’s aim of increasing its Gross Enrolment Ratio in higher education from 27% to 50% by 2035 is significant, but access without quality serves no one. The deeper work is making higher education worth accessing – relevant, intellectually honest, and genuinely empowering for the students who enter it.

What do you think? Nearly 75 years after independence, how much of what India’s universities teach still reflects borrowed frameworks rather than homegrown intellectual traditions – and who is responsible for changing that? If you were to redesign one aspect of higher education curriculum in India, would it be the content, the language of instruction, or the way students are assessed?

References

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Rethinking Higher Education in India: Curriculum, Creativity, and Relevance

Table of Contents

Colonial imprint on curriculum: a legacy that lingers 🔗

The rote learning problem: memorising instead of thinking 🔗

Why rote learning persists 🔗

The language question: English versus Indian languages in higher education 🔗

What NEP 2020 proposes – and why it is hard to implement 🔗

The future of higher education in India: making it relevant and research-driven 🔗

Key reforms needed 🔗