Posted by Rahul Siddharthan on February 2, 2014
After India’s deputy consul general in New York was arrested for allegedly falsifying visa papers to underpay her domestic maid, the government, and the media, arrested in outrage. The consul was handcuffed! In front of her children! She was strip-searched! She was kept in jail with drug offenders! The Indian government swiftly took retaliatory action against US diplomats in India. The maid was smeared freely in the press, declared an absconder, and the US government accused of some nefarious business, especially when it turned out that the maid’s husband and child had been brought to the US.
Preet Bharara, the US attorney for the southern district of New York and the man behind the charges, discusses these allegations and, despite being constrained by his position on the things he is allowed to say, rebuts most of them very nicely here.
Preet Bharara’s name is now familiar to many Indians for his role in this story. But in the US, he is much better known for other things: if you search Google News for current stories, you will find examples like this. Basically, he has successfully targeted many Wall Street executives for insider trading, the latest being SAC Capital’s Michael Steinberg. He has not lost a case yet in prosecuting insider trading, convicting 77 of 77 defendants with ten pending cases. This is clearly a man who does his homework. But because one of those 77 defendants was Rajat Gupta, apparently Bharara is being accused by some in South Block of targeting Indians!
There is no doubt that, in his statement on the consul case, Bharara is saying much less than he knows. The Indian government has behaved in this matter with unbelievable stupidity and arrogance without ascertaining the facts — to the extent of moving the diplomat to the UN office and retrospectively claiming diplomatic immunity (which will be received only if the US State Department accredits her). Now one wonders whether the US values its relations with India sufficiently to go along with this ploy. But the more interesting question, to me, is what else Bharara has up his sleeve (this is after all the third recent case involving just the NY consulate…)
At the end of the day, the way we in India treat domestic help is a scandal, and, increasingly, an international one. The government and the media are right to be angry but have the wrong target.
Posted by Rahul Siddharthan on December 19, 2013
I, like many others, was not paying much attention to the impending Supreme Court verdict in the appeal of the Delhi High Court’s verdict quashing the criminalization of gay sex in Section 377. The Delhi HC’s arguments seemed so common-sensical, and international opinion so strong, that it seemed inconceivable that the Supreme Court would not uphold the verdict. The inconceivable occurred yesterday.
A bench of two judges declared the following in reinstating the ban on gay sex:
- In its “anxiety” to protect the “so-called rights” of LGBT people, the HC “extensively relied upon the judgments of other jurisdictions”.
- “The High Court is not at all right in observing that Section 377 IPC obstructs personality development of homosexuals or affects their self-esteem because that observation is solely based on the reports prepared by the academicians.”
- And most shocking: The HC “overlooked that a miniscule fraction of the country’s population constitute lesbians, gays, bisexuals or transgenders and in last more than 150 years less than 200 persons have been prosecuted (as per the reported orders) for committing offence under Section 377 IPC.”
Since when did it become OK to discriminate against a group because their numbers are small? Why is a discriminatory law OK if prosecutions under that law are rare? Why “so-called rights” — do LGBT people not have rights? Don’t all courts, all over the world, rely upon judgments in other jurisdictions? And should academicians stop giving advice to courts now?
They conclude that it is the legislature’s job to change the law, if required. This is the same court that just ruled against red beacons on cars for all but a small category of officials (which includes Supreme Court judges!), last year banned sun-film on car windows (nowhere outlawed in the motor vehicle act, which only prescribes the minimum transparency of the windows), mandated CNG fuel in Delhi public transport, banned street food in Delhi… It is not the court’s job to legislate on those things. It is, however, the court’s job to strike down discriminatory legislation.
This judgment will not be looked on kindly by history, nor will its authors Justices Singhvi and Mukhopadhyaya.
Posted by Rahul Siddharthan on December 12, 2013
The Hindu’s brief experiment with professional editing and management has collapsed acrimoniously: editor Siddharth Varadarajan announced his resignation on twitter, the Hindu swiftly came up with its own version, and the Hindu’s supremo N Ram has been freely criticising both Varadarajan and fired CEO Arun Anant in the pages of other newspapers.
Disclosure: as readers of this blog know, I wrote a few opinion articles for The Hindu during Siddharth Varadarajan’s tenure as editor. I don’t know him, or any other senior figure in the Hindu. It happened this way: I had something that I felt was worth saying in a wider medium than this blog; I found Varadarajan’s email address on his own blog; I emailed him directly; and he replied, and after a minimum of correspondence, ran the piece. But I have never met him or corresponded with him on any other matter, and know nothing about the internals of this affair.
I was already an admirer of Varadarajan’s writing in The Hindu and, earlier, the Times of India. And, in my personal opinion, the Hindu’s readability improved immensely under his editorship. There was great diversity of articles (both news and opinion), a significant amount of “breaking news”, and a very sensible editorial line in all cases. And, in particular, he allowed plenty of space for dissent, both in the letters section and in “debate”-style rejoinder sections to previously published opinion pieces.
A bit of history: The Hindu has been the “newspaper of record” of south India for decades, arguably for most of its existence (well over 100 years), and is influential in other parts of India too. Like that other “newspaper of record”, the New York Times, the Hindu is family-owned; but unlike the NYT, it has mostly been family-run and family-edited too. The retirement of G. Kasturi, its longest serving editor, in 1991 prompted some ugly squabbling. Kasturi’s nephew N Ravi took over as editor in 1991, he was displaced by his brother N Ram amidst some acrimony in 2003, and when Ram brought in Siddharth Varadarajan in 2011, Ravi and their cousin Malini Parthasarathy resigned from editorial positions loudly protesting their being sidelined in favour of the “junior” Varadarajan. Now both are back.
The two allegations are mismanagement of the business resulting in falling circulation, employee dissatisfaction etc (which may be more an allegation against Anant), and, in Ram’s words, “editorialisation in the guise of news and manipulation of news coverage” under Varadarajan (while declining to give specific instances). Coming from Ram, this claim is comical.
Ram’s almost decade-long tenure saw the Hindu become almost an official mouthpiece of the Chinese Communist Party. Check out this piece, published on October 2, 2009 (Gandhi Jayanti) on the front page above the fold: written as a news report by Ram himself from Beijing, it waxes poetic about China’s rise, “showcased” by Tiananmen Square (which the world remembers, even today, for other reasons). After breathless and entirely unquestioning coverage of Premier Hu Jintao’s speech, the military review, parade and floats, Ram ends on a romantic note: “As I write, the evening is quite young at Tian’anmen Square.” So, Mr Ram, was this editorialisation in the guise of news, or news in the guise of editorialisation, or both? Who paid for your trip to Beijing to cover this parade? Where were you seated, and at whose invitation?
This is hardly the only example under Ram’s tenure. He consistently praised China to the detriment of, for example, the Tibet cause (take a look at this news item, published in The Hindu, which quotes N Ram, editor of The Hindu, rejecting Tibetan “propaganda”!). He unfailingly toed the line of Sri Lankan president Rajapaksa on the Tamil issue (see this fawning interview). And he almost never published dissenting letters to any of this (see this letters page in response to the Rajapaksa interview). None of which is surprising given his history as a card-carrying Communist and admirer of authoritarian figures. Nor is it surprising that, during Ram’s tenure as editor, the Hindu carried his photograph on more occasions than it had carried photographs of all previous editors during its entire history.
[EDIT Oct 23, 2013: I forgot to mention this supreme example of N Ram's editorial impartiality.]
So whether or not Siddharth Varadarajan can be accused of editorialising in news selection, Ram is the very last person in the world who can make that accusation with a straight face. And by doing so, rather than merely parting ways with Varadarajan in mutual silence, Ram has merely demeaned himself and his newspaper.
So ends The Hindu’s brief experiment with professional editing and management. Pity. For two years it was actually quite a good newspaper. One bright spot is that Ram is not returning as chief editor — instead, brother Ravi, a relatively colourless figure, returns to the job. I expect that The Hindu will become, if not the red rag that it was in Ram’s time, the bland inoffensive paper that it used to be earlier.
Posted by Rahul Siddharthan on October 22, 2013
Obaid Siddiqi, who founded the Molecular Biology Unit (now Department of Biological Sciences) at TIFR Bombay and NCBS in Bangalore, passed away recently at 81 after a road accident. Here is a long and personal tribute to him by K VijayRaghavan, who succeeded him as director of NCBS and is now secretary, DBT (and is a familiar name on Indian blogs).
Posted by Rahul Siddharthan on July 28, 2013
Yesterday I was part of a small panel at IIT Madras to discuss “privatisation of higher education” in the context of fee hikes at IIT Madras. The students were exercised at being asked to pay higher fees (after revision, it is Rs 90,000 per year for B.Tech. courses), but told me that I can express my opinion freely and they wanted a free exchange of ideas. Which is what occurred. The other panelists were Prof. Venkatesh Athreya, economist and former HOD at Bharathidasan University (and an IITian himself), and Mr Jimraj Milton, lawyer.
To summarise things very briefly: I felt that the revised fees are a small fraction of the expected salaries for most IIT graduates, and taxpayer money should not be going to subsidise students at India’s most prestigious institutes who will go on to lucrative jobs afterwards. (For example, the highest salary at IIT Madras for a B.Tech. graduate in computer science and engineering in 2011-12 was Rs 68.5 lakhs, and the average was Rs 24.67 lakhs. It varies across disciplines, but the overall average is still Rs 10 lakhs/year for B.Tech. graduates [source]. The revised fees over four years are less than half of this average.) Like the other speakers, I pointed out that the larger scandal is the complete failure to assure reasonable-quality school education. Though coverage has increased in the last decade, quality has not. The planning commission, and the Kakodkar committee, both recommend a scholarship scheme to ensure that any candidate who is selected is financially able to attend the IITs, and the government promises that nobody will be debarred from the IITs for an inability to pay. If these promises are kept (and skepticism of government promises is warranted in this country), I see nothing wrong in the proposals. But even if not, for the more lucrative B.Tech. courses at IITs, getting a loan should not be hard and the student should be able to pay it off quite quickly after graduating.
Prof Athreya’s view was that there is no pressing reason to raise fees, since they cover only a part of the expenses at an IIT and the major part of funding will come from the government in any case. He observed that 65% of tax revenues come from indirect taxes, paid mainly by the working class and poor, and corporate taxes are effectively very low because of various exemptions that corporates are good at negotiating. He also observed that, because of globalisation, corporations who don’t get sweetheart tax deals simply threaten to move elsewhere, and governments around the world cave in to such threats. India’s budget deficit, he argued, should be tackled by improving tax collections from big business, not by asking IIT students to pay fees.
Mr Milton argued that privatisation, in general, was a form of exploiting the poor for the benefit of the rich, and gave several examples (such as electricity, private couriers, primary education) that did not really convince me. Besides, I did not quite see where “privatisation” came in to the picture for the IITs, and said so. I was told the Kakodkar committee argues for “radical privatisation”. I had a look later, and it does not. It quotes some feedback as suggesting “radical privatisation” as one of several options, but what it recommends is simply that IITs move towards raising their operating — i.e. non-plan — expenditure from non-government sources, while plan expenditure will come from the government as before. The topic of the panel discussion, therefore, was perhaps not really appropriate to the pressing issue in the minds of the audience.
Largely, my views remain unchanged, but one important point did come up: what about students who do not choose to do lucrative jobs after studying at IIT, but join the government or work for the social good? And, in particular, what of students who want to do higher studies, such as a master’s or Ph.D. degree, at modest Indian stipends? The return on their expenditure for the B.Tech. degree would be much lower, and if they took a loan, paying it back would be much more challenging. So it seems clear that, in such cases, the fees should be returned to the student (or perhaps fees can be charged at the point of exit, depending on what future career the student is taking up). Anyway, a solution to this point is in the IITs’ own interest, since they are finding it hard to recruit high-quality faculty, and with the expansion of higher education, it is essential to persuade some of the best undergraduate students to go on to higher studies and an academic career.
I wonder how other countries — the US in particular — deal with this. Student debt is beginning to approach crisis proportions in the US. Graduate and postdoc pay is barely enough to subsist on. How are students who have spent heavily on undergraduate education persuaded to continue for higher studies? Or is this one reason why graduate departments and faculty positions in the US are dominated by foreigners?
Finally, my major concern was — why aren’t our private universities better than they are? In an ideal world, a private institute such as BITS would have far exceeded the quality of the IITs by now, and students would be flocking there by preference, and we would not have this debate. But while private universities are mushrooming, the older ones like BITS are still not comparable to the IITs, and the newer ones are largely money-making institutions with mediocre teaching and negligible research output. Prof Athreya observed that private educational institutions should be motivated by philantrophy and not business considerations, and this is not happening [update: he clarifies that one cannot expect pure philantrophy and he has no problem with profit as a motive, but it should not be the only motive]. How can the government encourage it to happen? Or should we depend on the government for quality higher education for the foreseeable future, even as primary education is now dominated in the cities by expensive (and, often, equally profit-driven) private schools?
Posted by Rahul Siddharthan on June 7, 2013
My previous post on Kudankulam got some online and offline feedback. I partly invited criticism with my screwup in claiming that the reports of ZiO-Podolsk corruption were from a single source, a Norwegian NGO (who quoted a Russian agency report that I couldn’t find). I was quickly alerted to the Russian original, which is more credible than a Norwegian NGO. But it is still a single source, which is mystifying to me. A report that is not followed up is like an experiment that is not repeated. Initial media reports are often erroneous and a full picture appears only later. What is the full picture here and why has nobody reported on it? It is mystifying to me, but I don’t buy the conspiracy theory that there is a deliberate international media blackout on this.
Be that as it may, the anti-nuclear activists are trying to link that story to reports that four valves in Kudankulam were found to be defective. The facts that these are part of additional safety features requested by the Indian side, that they were detected in time, that AERB clearance will only be given after full testing, are all unimportant, it seems.
It is good to see the minute concern exhibited over four defective valves in an installation the size of Kudankulam. Can we have the same concern for non-nuclear installations all over the country? Just in the past one month we have seen a fertilizer factory explosion in Texas and a garment factory collapse in Bangladesh, both with heavy loss of life. Here in India we have seen numerous disasters over the years, from Bhopal to the Uphaar cinema fire to the Kumbakonam school tragedy to the Mantralaya fire to numerous firework accidents in Sivakasi, and that doesn’t include buses plunging into ravines, trains ramming vehicles at unmanned crossings, brake failures in poorly maintained public buses, and so on. If an iota of the concern for detail exhibited in Kudankulam (both by the NPCIL and by the protestors) were applied elsewhere, we could save thousands of lives a year.
Posted by Rahul Siddharthan on May 6, 2013
UPDATE 06 May 2013: The Supreme Court has rejected the stay petition, after hearing arguments and debating for months (the ruling was originally expected in January). Presumably the Russian story matter, below, was brought up too [edit: it wasn't brought up in the hearings, but a petition was filed in April; I am not sure whether it was admitted but the court was certainly aware of this concern).. They have directed the AERB and NPCIL to ensure safety, but they did not need such directions: India's nuclear safety record is among the best in the world. Will this bring the matter to rest? I'm not holding my breath...
ANOTHER UPDATE 06 May 2013: I also got an objection to the claim that Gopalakrishnan "put words into" M R Srinivasan's mouth. Gopalakrishnan in fact quotes Srinivasan, as quoted by the TOI, leaving out a crucial clause. Srinivasan originally said: "We sought an additional safety mechanism well before the Fukushima disaster..." (my emphasis) but Gopalakrishnan left out the last five words in his quote, leaving the deliberate impression that this has something to do with the ZiO-Podolsk case. And I wonder why Gopalakrishnan, a former AERB chairman, couldn't just ring up Srinivasan and get an original quote for his article.
UPDATE -- after I wrote the following, the scientist that I mention mailed me the links to the Russian agency story. Google translate links: 1, 2. So there really was a story in the Russian agency, and some, at least, of the Indian media (as well as the scientist in question) may well have verified it, so I take back those remarks. But the lack of follow-up, in the Russian media itself and in international media, is puzzling. How important was this fraud to the safety of nuclear reactors, and is the investigation ongoing or dropped?
I have been puzzled by a spate of recent articles claiming that the procurement director of ZiO-Podolsk, nuclear supplier, was arrested for procuring substandard steel and pocketing the difference. Here, for example, is former AERB chairman A. Gopalakrishnan demanding that the safety of the Kudankulam plant be audited. A Google search for ZiO-Podolsk throws up dozens of articles on sites like dianuke and countercurrents, making the same claim.
All of these (including Gopalakrishnan's opinion piece) refer ultimately to one article from February 2012, from the website of a Norwegian NGO called Bellona. The article claims that the news first appeared in Russia's official news agency Rosbalt. But they provide no link (surely it must exist, and Google Translate is adequate for these tasks) [update - see update on top], and it has not appeared in any other international media. Some, like activist Nityanand Jayaraman in Tehelka, call it a “curious” “media silence” implying some sort of conspiracy. But if there were any truth in it, it would have been of front-page importance internationally, especially in a world still worrying about Fukushima.
[update -- I retract the insinuations in this paragraph and the following one, but retain the text here for the record; see update on top] The lack of any supporting evidence has not stopped Indian activists parroting this claim without verification, and many in the media lapping it up. But I was disappointed to receive a mail today from a scientist requesting that I sign a petition, based on this claim, that Kudankulam’s safety be reviewed. Scientists and journalists have this in common: it is their professional duty to verify claims before repeating them. In both cases, verification is done by a few reputable individuals and published in respected venues, and then the rest of the community accepts the claims until proven otherwise. How can a scientist accept a claim that only ever appeared in one NGO’s website, over a year ago, but has suddenly gone viral over the past three months?
Does anyone remember the hoax about alleged Nazi war criminal Johann Bach, that took in large parts of the Indian media? The ZiO-Podolsk story may not be a hoax, but it does demonstrate the media’s propensity to publish anything they find on the interwebs without the least effort to verify where it came from.
Gopalakrishnan’s article is disappointing in many other ways. He puts words into the mouths of various atomic energy officials, including former chairman M R Srinivasan, but never provides a link or reference, and peppers his article with weasel-words. He insinuates that problems with valves are behind the delay in operationalising Kudankulam, and that these problems are linked with the alleged ZiO-Podolsk scandal. But it is well-known that the Supreme Court’s ruling on a stay petition has been awaited for months (some reports say it will arrive tomorrow). Why look for conspiracies when there are obvious explanations? Indeed, isn’t it just a little dubious to first file a petition demanding a stay, and then say that there is something suspicious about the delay?
The anti-Kudankulam agitation reveals a lot about our country, most of it not complimentary.
Posted by Rahul Siddharthan on May 5, 2013
Below is a note from the St Stephen’s College Physics Department, that I’m sharing with permission.
(posted by Abhinav Gupta, Physics Department, St Stephen’s College, on Facebook; reproduced with permission)
The Four Year Programme – a Physics Department’s perspective
Delhi University’s proposed four-year undergraduate programme – to begin in July 2013– has been much in the news. It has been opposed by members of the teaching community for various reasons – need, procedure, infrastructure, cost, inadequacy, etc –, many of which are indeed good enough to give one pause. But suppose that one accepts, for the sake of argument, that a four-year undergraduate programme is desirable. One might then ask: Is this the kind of four-year programme we want? Is it even the four-year programme that its fond founders wanted? The answers appear to be: no and no.
The advertised reasons for introducing a four-year undergraduate programme were that it would be more flexible, more inter-disciplinary, and more in tune with undergraduate programmes across the world. The programme that is now being pushed through is in fact extraordinarily inflexible, inter-disciplinary in a rather strange way, and quite out of tune with four-year programmes anywhere in the world.
Flexibility and Inter-disciplinarity
The inflexibility of programme appears at various stages. A student enters the programme having already chosen his major discipline (DC1) and does not have the option to change at any stage. The four-year bachelor’s-degree programmes in the US – presumably the inspiration for Delhi University – allow students to make an informed choice of major after appropriate sampling. The same principle is followed in a more limited sense in the four-year BS at IISc-Bangalore and the integrated five-year BSc-MSc at the various IISERs, where students take common courses over a broad spectrum of disciplines – all in science – in the first two years, and then choose a major. (There exists no comparable programmes in the arts in India.) In DU’s programme, students will indeed get a broad exposure in the first two years, since all students will do the same 11 mandatory foundation courses (FCs); however, they will not be able to use this exposure to make an informed choice of major (DC1), since this choice will already have been made at the time of entry. Furthermore, the FCs Delhi University has decided upon are not exactly the kind of courses that would help a student to discover his abilities and inclinations effectively enough to make a choice of discipline. Given that the second discipline (DC2) and the Applied Courses (ACs) offer the only real flexibility available in the four-year programme, it would have made sense to design the FCs in a manner that permitted intelligent choice. Even if we take it as given that the core discipline is chosen at the time of admission, the sheer volume of the Foundation Courses overwhelms the core courses in the first year.
An even stranger and more incomprehensible inflexibility appears later in the programme: all students who have chosen physics, for example, as DC1, must do exactly the same courses for all four years. At no time are there any optional courses available – at least there are none in the proposed physics syllabus. To appreciate how strange this is, one must understand that a student will generally discover after two years of college-level physics whether his inclinations and abilities lie in experimental or theoretical physics, whether he is interested in astrophysics or biophysics. Any sensible programme – especially one that advertises itself as flexible – will therefore have a range of optional courses available to its students in the later years. This is something that could have been fairly easily implemented even within the present scheme, and in fact the first draft of the physics syllabus assumed that such choices would be available in the fourth year – but apparently the University shot down all options.
Abolishing the Pass Degree Programmes
Delhi University at the moment offers two kinds of degrees: pass (called BSc Programme and BA Programme) and honours. The vast majority of students are enrolled in the pass degree programmes, which are designed to give their students exposure to a range of subjects without specialization in any one. The honours programmes on the other hand, require students to specialize in one subject, and are designed for academic pursuits. In the four-year programme, even those who leave after three years with a non-honours degree will essentially follow an honours-like track, in that they will specialize in one course (DC1).With the merging of the honours and pass tracks it may be very difficult for Delhi University to maintain the standard of the syllabi and examinations. (There is a recent precedent for this. A few years ago, when BSc General was changed to BSc Programme, the syllabus proposed for the new Programme was such that a very large number of students failed the examinations in the first year. With a couple of years the standard was substantially lowered to allow students to pass.). There is real apprehension that the University will eventually dumb down the the syllabus to simply pass more students.
The number of students who benefit from a high-level programme may be very small in number, but it is on their training and success that the reputation of a university depends. Delhi University would be very much the poorer if these students decided to go elsewhere. At the same time, the interests of those who want a broad but adequate exposure to several areas will also not be served in the four-year degree programme (even if exited after three years).
The four-degree programme will allow a student to exit after two years with an Associate Baccalaureate degree, after three years with a Baccalaureate degree, and after four years with a Baccalaureate with Honours or a BTech. The first option is a rather strange one. A student who leaves after two years will evidently not be considered a “graduate” for the purposes of employment or admission to any Master’s (or MBA!) programme. In the Indian context it is not clear what the purpose of the two-year “degree” is.
The same lack of clarity is evident in the status of a student who graduates with a four-year honours degree. Will there be a one-year MSc degree available for such students? – and not just at Delhi University but all over the country? (And will there also be a two-year MSc available for students from other universities, and for those who exit the four-year programme after three years?) If most MSc programmes in India (e.g. the much-sought-after MSc programmes at the IITs) continue to be two years long, what incentive will the best DU students have to stay on for the fourth year? Will students seeking admission into research institutes like TIFR and IISc be admitted to the integrated MSc-PhD programme meant for graduates, or directly into the PhD programme meant for Master’s degree holders? At the moment, the status of the Delhi University M.Sc program itself is not clear. With the best Masters and Integrated PhD programmes in India not requiring an Honours degree as a prerequisite (just a three year science degree), the best students will try to get admission to these places after three years.
The point really is not the details but this – when India’s biggest and most important public university makes as large a change as the one proposed, it cannot do so in isolation. Delhi University is part of a country-wide system, within which it must be accommodated. A change from a three-year to a four-year degree is not in itself unthinkable, intrinsically unacceptable, or necessarily inferior to a three-year programme. But such an enormous change requires time – time for the university concerned to carefully study pre-existing programmes of this kind and ask how they might be adapted to its needs; time to work out how the programme fits into the larger Indian academic scene; time to work out the ramifications for students and faculty; and time, also, to consult all interested parties and carry them along. The manic haste with which the change is being effected and the abandonment of all protocol and thoughtfulness are deeply distressing to all those of us who must ultimately make real what has been dreamt up.
The views expressed here are the personal views of all permanent faculty members of The Physics Department, St. Stephen’s College, University of Delhi. These do not necessarily represent the views of St. Stephen’s College.
Now, my thoughts.
I studied in Delhi University, and, in fact, grew up on its campus. I have an attachment to the place (though I haven’t visited for years), a respect for its history and its continuing achievements, and, I believe, a realistic opinion of where it stands in India and in the world. Recently the university has been in the news for its drastic overhaul of the undergraduate programme, across all disciplines, converting it to an allegedly more flexible 4-year programme with a choice of courses and exit options at years 2, 3 and 4. It sounds very good on paper, and got a lot of positive media coverage at the time, but it is clear that many of those who are in charge of implementing it — the teachers — were not happy.
Early criticisms focused on the haste and the authoritarian way in which the changes were implemented. It was easy to see these criticisms as obstructionist, put forward by people unwilling to change. But many of the critics are highly respected and committed teachers and researchers. Now that the new syllabus has been finalised, with minimal interaction, it seems clear just how bad it really is.
Let me focus on science here since that is my area. Contrary to some earlier claims, the 4-year bachelor’s programme is not the first of its kind in India: as the St Stephen’s note observes, the Indian Institute of Science, Bangalore, started one two years ago. And the idea of making a programme flexible and providing a “foundation” across disciplines was already pioneered by the IISERs, in their integrated B.Sc./M.Sc programme. What Dinesh Singh, the vice chancellor of Delhi University, has done is to reject all this experience from other institutions to design an utterly rigid programme, with no flexibility in choosing majors or even in taking optional courses, that seems to be in no way an improvement on what exists currently.
Disclosure: I knew Dinesh Singh when I was a student at St Stephen’s. I was directed to him when I had a question about measures and uncountability (he pointed out where I was wrong, but I now realise that there are deeper issues here that have caused controversy since the early 20th century). He seemed an enthusiastic pedagogue committed to the cause of undergraduate education. A little later, he started an outfit called the Mathematical Sciences Foundation, which was a good idea and generated much enthusiasm, but did not stay free of controversy. What I was disappointed by was that he made no effort to tie up with any Indian institution, but had a partnership with the University of Houston instead whereby students, after studying one year at his Foundation, would go to Houston for a degree programme. There were several corporate supporters, such as ICICI Bank and NASSCOM, but the one Indian academic interaction the foundation had, with St Stephen’s College (which originally housed the Foundation), collapsed acrimoniously.(*) Singh’s position, as I understood it (I may be wrong), seemed to be that all Indian institutions are irredeemably bureaucratic and inflexible. It is strange that such a man chose to become vice-chancellor of one of the largest Indian universities (he earlier headed the south campus of Delhi University). But, having taken up that job, it appears that he did not develop any new respect for his academic colleagues at the University. Worse, he did not learn from the best practices at universities elsewhere in the world. The result, as the document from St Stephen’s describes, is a disaster in the making. The result fails to take account of the needs of Delhi University students, who come from very diverse backgrounds; it fails to learn from international experience or make use of best international practices; it completely ignores prior Indian experience in flexible teaching; it has alienated the majority of the teachers, who are the ones meant to implement the programme; and, despite taking a year longer than the current honours programmes, it does not provide any additional educational value. (It does, however, make it easier to apply for master’s programmes in the USA, which require four years of undergraduate education.)
All I can say is, I am glad I am not looking to do an undergraduate degree in Delhi today.
(*)I can’t help contrasting the Mathematical Sciences Foundation with another institution that started around the same time with the same goal of fostering undergraduate mathematical education, with private-sector support. Started in 1989 as part of the SPIC Science Foundation, and autonomous since 1996, the Chennai Mathematical Institute has successfully run its own degree programme, originally in association with Bhoj Open University, and now independently as a deemed university. It maintains active links with several Indian academic institutions including mine. But the key point, it seems to me, is that CMI did not start with the assumption that existing institutions in India were atrociously bad and to be steered clear from. A man who is vice-chancellor of a university as large, diverse, prestigious and historically important as Delhi University needs to have a proven record of being able to work with others respectfully. Dinesh Singh’s record was quite the opposite.
UPDATE 04/05/13: Added a disclaimer to the physics department note, on request.
Posted by Rahul Siddharthan on May 3, 2013
Some time back I wrote on how science bloggers in India tend to be non-anonymous. Importantly, the senior guys do it too, even in a semi-official capacity.
Example 1: Ram Ramaswamy, has what he calls an “Unofficial Blog of the VC, University of Hyderabad”. It may be unofficial but he puts his name and designation on what he says, and that’s important.
Example 2: K VijayRaghavan, till recently director of NCBS Bangalore and now Secretary, Department of Biotechnology, Government of India, has initiated an official DBT blog. The posts don’t carry authorship but Vijay regularly replies to comments with his real name (as he does on other blogs, including this one).
These are not just promotional fluff either (like the “official blogs” of various Very Big Corporations of America), but discuss real issues like gender issues, streamlining of administration, and other ways to improve these institutions. And they also remind others that they too have a stake in these organisations and can speak up. Ideally, it should be like a coffee table where everyone is invited.
Update: From comments below, here are other examples — Dheeraj Sanghi, former director of LNMIIT, Jaipur, and currently Dean — Academic Affairs at IIT Kanpur (I read his blog regularly but didn’t know the positions he holds/has held); Pankaj Jalote, director of IIT Delhi; and others network via Facebook or other social media (Sudhir Jain of IIT Gandhinagar is mentioned). As a medium to discuss, I personally prefer Google+ to Facebook, and blogs to G+, but as a way to reach out to the maximum number of young people, Facebook is by far the best these days.
Posted by Rahul Siddharthan on March 26, 2013