Quality education is widely regarded as the backbone of a country’s development. Statistics show that nations that are successful, strong, progressive, and exemplary consistently maintain very high standards of education. Our government, too, has allocated a comparatively significant share of the national budget (around 11 percent) to this sector. It is often cited that Japan invested nearly 49 percent of its budget in education for several years following the Second World War. In India, Jagdish Gandhi introduced the concept of the Quality Circle into the academic ecosystem with the expectation of an overarching, education-induced transformation. One of the key indicators for measuring the quality of education is research. This argument is also advanced in the special issue publication Chetanako Muhan (2080), published by the Shreekant Adhikari Foundation. Yet today, research activities seem to be drifting away from their mission and turning increasingly into a mockery.
A few months ago, a distinguished speaker invited to a regional program proudly claimed, “I did research for half an hour today and discovered a few things.” As a presenter at the same program, this contributor found it difficult to comprehend whether research is something that can truly be completed in half an hour. On another occasion, a person with an academic identity uploaded a photograph on Facebook of himself on his mobile phone, and captioned it, “Doing some serious research.” Has research now been reduced to ‘mobile work’? Does merely knowing how to use Facebook qualify one as a researcher? Such questions persist.
Sometime later, this contributor received an email from a PhD researcher who had sent a questionnaire to measure patients’ perceptions of private hospitals. Despite visiting hospitals only to care for others, express goodwill, or attend meetings, the contributor has rarely been a patient in a private hospital for at least the past 15 years. Upon being informed of this, the sender casually replied, “No problem, just choose whatever option seems good and tick it.” These are only representative incidents, but taken together they clearly reveal how a dense and serious subject like research is being dangerously trivialized.
Research is a strong foundation and an essential pillar of academic life. Anyone completing a master’s degree is required to conduct at least one research project, which is often their first formal exposure to research. How far they pursue it thereafter depends on their sustained interest and commitment. Those who cannot fight should not join the army; those who cannot argue should not study law; those who cannot generate profit should not enter commerce; and those who cannot conduct research should think carefully before entering academia. Yet in recent times, distortions appear to be expanding far more rapidly than purity in academic research.
It is both pathetic and painful that thousands of identical research works under the same title circulate in academic circles. Research outputs lacking rigorous study and genuine effort—prepared and even home-delivered theses—are becoming increasingly common. At times, dissertations by unmarried researchers include acknowledgements thanking “my husband” or “my wife,” mistakenly referring to a friend’s spouse. Some pages read, “I am deeply grateful to my supervisor for continuous support, advice, suggestions, and tireless encouragement throughout the study,” even though the supervisor may never have met the student even once. Should one laugh or cry?
There is also a growing misconception that research must be based strictly on primary data. Many insist that “expert opinion doesn’t count, but respondents do.” Thick data requirements, non-numerical support, and deep interpretation are bluntly dismissed. Furthermore, the validity, participation, and honesty of respondents are rarely verified. Questionnaire-based studies often collect opinions rather than factual data. Research is not an election where whatever the majority says becomes truth. If the goal is to gather opinions, the choice of respondents should depend on whether the topic demands the views of the general public or of experts. For instance, if one is researching the usefulness of a political or electoral system, can conclusions be drawn merely by surveying random people on the street? Or is it more logical to sit in a library, study expert literature, examine prior research, and compare practices across countries?
Pushparaj Joshi’s book Research Methodology argues that comparative and analytical desk-based study must occupy a larger space in contemporary research. Nonetheless, the University Grants Commission and universities remain hesitant to recognize desk studies as legitimate research. The UGC tends to value time spent running around fields collecting data as grant-worthy, while time invested in dense comparative analysis grounded in core literature is largely disregarded.
Regardless of the method, once research is completed, publication is desirable. So-called “high-ranked” foreign journals demand exorbitant fees while offering prestige through labels such as Q1 to Q4 and Scopus indexing. At the same time, journals seeking modest collaboration or regional partnerships are branded as “predatory.” As many university research projects are donor-driven, assessment standards have become increasingly distorted. Commercial considerations now overshadow scholarly collaboration, turning publication into a transactional rather than intellectual exercise.
Recent data show that only seven medical science journals from our country are listed in these self-proclaimed, dollar-fee-driven rankings. No journals from other disciplines are included. In the social sciences, publication criteria appear heavily biased toward Western preconceptions and colonial narcissism. To secure space, publications must shape conclusions to fit Eurocentric narratives of supremacy—alongside paying hefty processing or publication fees.
How long will our universities continue to apply foreign and biased standards to evaluate local academic work? When will we break the illusion that “foreign” automatically means “international”? Is something international because of borders, or because of standards? The irony is that even the publications of our own universities and the University Grants Commission are excluded from these inflated and questionable rankings.
There is also no shortage of “scholars” who possess negligible and nondescript publications of their own but are experts at offering heavy-handed advice to others. Another troubling aspect is the contradictory feedback given by evaluators. Many internal and external examiners speak superficially and in violation of basic research principles. This contributor has frequently witnessed reviewers contradicting their own earlier advice. Some say, “It’s not correct,” yet fail to explain what is wrong or how it can be corrected. Such distortions damage the very core of research.
Recently, a friend who claimed to have strong research skills bragged, “You don’t need to work hard anymore. Just give clear prompts or bullet points to ChatGPT, and it will instantly prepare a research article. Then you can submit it wherever you want.” Such remarks instantly dim whatever little enthusiasm and commitment remain. Due to the negligence of both researchers and regulatory bodies, genuine dedication to research is steadily being discouraged. Research was once an extraordinary and sacred mission. Today, it has been reduced to a cheap joke.
