Toppers & losers: What our education system has got wrong
We love to hear tales of success. Not surprisingly then, after the CBSE and other board exams results, the 'toppers' are in the news once again. Indeed, a topper's 'perfect' score of 500/500 hypnotises us. As we mythologise these toppers, transform them into instant celebrities, and find ourselves elated in imagining their future life trajectories — say, from their admission to 'top ranking' medical/engineering colleges/universities to appropriate placements with lucrative packages, we fail to notice the agony of the 'losers'.
Possibly, many of us like to believe that the losers are losers because they have not worked hard, or they are not 'intelligent' enough to master the lessons of science, mathematics, history or English grammar.
However, as a teacher, I have no hesitation in saying that the system of education we have normalised has failed everybody. It does not matter whether one is a 'topper' or a 'loser'. In fact, when a CBSE topper says that s/he studies for 20 hours every day, it ought to frighten us.
Think of it. Should this be the daily routine of an 18-year-old young student — nothing beyond roaming around coaching centres, taking 'last-minute suggestions' from private tutors, writing endless mock tests? And, to consider everything else — be it football, music, cinema, painting and poetry — as a 'waste' of time?
Or, think of the fate of yet another 'topper' of the West Bengal Board of Secondary Education. "Our son has 12 private tutors," his parents declared with absolute pride as mediapersons asked them for the 'secret' behind his success.
Is it that in the process of achieving 'success' and becoming a 'topper', our adolescents are losing their wonder years, and damaging the spirit of wonder, play, creativity and sensitivity to life?
It is, therefore, not surprising that seldom do we find these toppers having an alternative imagination, or a vision of life that is qualitatively different from the standardised notion of success.
Interview these toppers at random, and ask them what they wish to do in life. It is quite likely that most of them will give you the kind of answer you can easily predict: "I want to become a doctor, an engineer, or an IAS officer."
In fact, I have been waiting eagerly for the day when a topper would surprise me by saying with pride and joy: "Satyajit Ray and Shyam Benegal are my role models, and I want to become a film director." Likewise, I imagine that one of these days, a topper might charm me by saying that she has read a great deal about the history of science and she wants to become a scientist like Professor CV Raman.
It has not yet happened. In fact, it frightens me when I see these youngsters — physically exhausted and mentally tired — behaving like parrots and repeating the same mantra of success. Yes, in this system of education, you need to pay a heavy price for your success. You need to sacrifice the redemptive power of your creative thinking and imagination.
It is not difficult to understand that here is a system of education that is biased towards those who have sufficient wealth to buy it as a commodity. No wonder, many of the 'losers' are those whose parents cannot afford to hire, say, private tutors for every subject, or send them to the traders of physics, chemistry, mathematics and biology for buying attractively packaged 'success manuals'.
Not solely that. The 'losers' are possibly the ones the prevalent practice of education has never bothered to understand. Possibly, some of them never wanted to study algebra and trigonometry; possibly, they disliked the teacher's monologue in the classroom; and, possibly, they wanted to do practical things with their hands and legs. Or, who knows, some of these 'losers', instead of dissecting a poem in the boring English class, might have wanted to watch the sunset from the school terrace and experience that extraordinarily sublime poetic moment?
Possibly, some of these 'losers' could have realised their hidden potential had they found educationists inspired by the likes of John Dewey, Mohandas
Karamchand Gandhi, Rabindranath Tagore and Jiddu Krishnamurti.
But then, our regimented school culture, our official curriculum and our utilitarian coaching centres know nothing beyond the assembly-line production of one-dimensional conformists —almost like robotic machines. No wonder, those who can't adjust to this system are destined to carry the stigma of failure.
There is no dearth of corporate-sponsored educationists in our times. And it is quite likely that they will remind these toppers that they should now get the kind of education that equips them with the 'skills' the techno-corporate empire needs. In other words, they will be persuaded to believe that the primary objective of their higher education ought to be some sort of training for future jobs. In other words, for these educationists, universities need to redesign their curriculum as per the needs of the industry.
As this market-driven technocratic thinking begins to colonise their worldviews, they might quickly master the techniques of artificial intelligence, data sciences and robotics and earn a lot as they are tempted to become compliant workers.
But then, who will tell them that education is not merely a training for jobs? The meaning of being truly educated, as Noam Chomsky spoke in one of his excellent lectures, is to acquire the power of critical thinking so that one can question the very rationale of a violent/exploitative social order, and strive for an egalitarian/humane/just world.
It is really sad that even the 'toppers' who emerge from the prevalent system of education are essentially losers as they remain deprived of the redemptive power of this sort of libertarian education.
Avijit Pathak is a well-known sociologist.
