On the afternoon of Wednesday, April 6, at a busstop outside a cluster of South Delhi colleges of the University of Delhi, I spotted a tall man, talking to students and gathering first-hand accounts of the issues that were foremost in their mind. I realised that the man was none other than the eminent mathematician and current vice-chancellor of the university, Dinesh Singh.
I walked up to the busstop and introduced myself as a teacher in one of the neighbouring undergraduate colleges. In the hour-long discussion that followed, I found in him an eager learner, a keen listener, a man seeking to build the micro-foundations for his plans for reform and restructuring, based on what he was directly learning from students and teachers. The former, according to him, were at the centre, and were the very purpose of all improvements, while the teachers were to be the bearers of the change efforts. He had been around for over two hours, sitting unrecognised among students, in college canteens, nearby restaurants, outside college gates and bus stands, observing whether lumpen groups were harassing girls, and whether chowkidars and security cameras were doing enough.
This chance encounter was significant for its ‘ordinariness’, the grand office of the vice-chancellor to be seen as an ‘aam aadmi’ in his/her own university. On later reflection, I realised the deeper significance of this bold initiative.
It represented first and foremost, a paradigm shift in university governance from the high command model to a bottom-up, demand-led approach. It also represented an image-shift, as the VC’s office had until now been associated only with regalia and formal encounters.
Second, this was also perhaps the first time the centralised university system recognised the ‘dispersed geography’ of undergraduate colleges as its own. Until now, these colleges (except those on the main campus in North Delhi) had been seen as ‘peripheries’ with lower status and little significance in the university’s power structures. In contrast, power lay in the centre, and institutional brands were built among other things, on a geographical proximity to this centre. His visit was breaking this hierarchy, and listening to voices from the margins.
These two issues, and the potential that inverting hierarchies would have in setting out new directions for change, led me to an appointment with the vice-chancellor, and the opportunity to interview him in his office on April 9. Here are the excerpts from the interview, in which Dinesh Singh shared his thinking and his route to change which is finding value at the bottom of its pyramid – among students:
The vice-chancellor’s office is a very formal and powerful one. What prompted you to leave such formalism aside and directly visit the colleges and institutions that you went to?
I never really see myself as a powerful man, nor one who likes to be bound by formalism. I have respect for instincts, for intuition. The one thing that my intuition recognises is to ask the question: “What does this university exist for?” The answer clearly is that it exists for its students. Yet, have we ever made any effort to understand what the student expects, have we ever used this knowledge to some advantage in the conduct of this office? I must confess with some degree of disappointment that the university has not focused much on its own students.
In thinking about the centrality of the student to the process and structures of the university, I am reminded of Gandhi’s definition of the customer, being the most important visitor on our premises. The student is one such; they are not dependent on us, we are dependent on them. We must have an approach to serve them.
Talking about why the poor receive poor education services, the 2004 World Development Report on ‘Making Services Work’ subscribed to such a definition and analyses in a very exhaustive way. In this framework the students are like customers with a right to receive improved education services. Is it this which inspires you to see students in this way?
No, I am not aware of the words or definitions you use, but it is Gandhi’s talisman that I see as being vital in defining the centrality of the student, and as a guiding parameter to action. To quote him,
“I will give you a talisman. Whenever you are in doubt, or when the self becomes too much with you, apply the following test. Recall the face of the poorest and the weakest man [woman] whom you may have seen, and ask yourself, if the step you contemplate is going to be of any use to him [her]. Will he [she] gain anything by it? Will it restore him [her] to a control over his [her] own life and destiny?”
In every moment of decision, of action, one must ask the question whether it will benefit that last man, the poorest man. Replace in this statement ‘the poorest man’ with ‘the student’, ask whether the action will benefit the student, and you have a guide to right and purposeful action. The purpose of a university vis-à-vis its students is to add strength, give direction. These are the people who go out to the world as positive, creative, and productive individuals. You will be known by the quality of your students.
What were the main issues or grievances that students put forward?
There are three basic things students raise. The main grievance of the students is that their voice is not heard. ‘Hamaari aawaaz koi nahin sunta’ (nobody listens to us) is a common refrain. They complain about the irrelevance of the syllabus taught in many disciplines. Soch kar kuchh aaye, padhaya kuchh aur jaa raha hai (We came here expecting something but we are taught something else). When I spoke to students from Sanskrit departments, I could see their morale was low. They want to study other courses alongside – computer science, mathematics or learn computer skills. The system does not permit such flexibility.
On an earlier occasion when I met with students of the history department, I could see that the system does not encourage that students even meet the VC. They were shunned and feared as if they were anti-lawful elements when they came to this office. I sat with them on these lawns. They are our own students; listen to what they have to say. A number of them pointed out the need to be taught in Hindi. Students also complain about classes not being taken.
I am aware that the problem differs in different colleges, and that raising this issue offends teachers. Somewhere, there has to be an internal reflection among teachers on these issues. Second, there is a serious complaint about poor infrastructure. Girls have complained about the lack of bathrooms and very unclean ones. There is a shortage of rooms and the physical infrastructure is shoddy.
The third issue is that of security. Fortunately, in front of the two girls’ colleges I went to, I saw very little evidence of lumpen elements hanging around or misbehaving with girls. Security cameras need to be installed at gates, they will be a deterrent, and chowkidars need to do their duty well.
I also propose to run a bus service from the university, which is like a ring service, linking metro stations and colleges. What worries me though is that a significant number of students smoke a little outside the campus. At this tender age, they need to be made aware of the dangers of smoking, and I also fear that this can be the harbinger of drugs. The freedom of youth needs to be enjoyed in more positive ways. Again, this may not be our formal duty, but certainly our responsibility.
Did student grievance perceptions differ from teacher grievance perceptions?
Teachers also suffer a lot from lack of infrastructure. They do not have rooms to work from on the campus. Their individual grievances are not resolved in a speedy manner – the system does not listen to them as well. Despite having very well qualified teachers, new ideas are missing. The system as a whole does not encourage innovation. Refresher courses for teachers do not have any flexibility – trying to give teachers what they need or inter-disciplinary learning is at the heart of teacher demands. Even when I tried to innovate and have a hands-on training aided with computers, I remember that UGC (University Grants Commission) regulations were cited and we couldn’t go ahead with different things.
What I can see is that innovations are happening outside the university system. The case of somebody like Sachin Tendulkar is a very good example of creativity and wisdom having been nurtured to its epitome outside of formal education systems. Over-regulation and lack of flexibility is the bane of the university system. We do not, as a matter of rule, nurture creativity and/or innovation.
Has expressing one’s voice through large student unions lost its relevance? Or in what ways is it inadequate?
Well, there are issues on which the student unions have also been able to articulate matters of relevance. The shooting of Radhika Tanwar is one such case. The way in which students came out protesting and the suggestions for security was very useful. But they need to evolve some creative thinking, and their political affiliations may perhaps be something that comes in the way. I am more impressed directly interacting with the students, and sometimes wonder how little they complain. They have a great amount of resilience and patience with the system, and also have hopes from this system.
Your method of direct interactions, coupled with using social media for networking is an approach that is horizontal and entails a loss of power that comes alongside hierarchies. What new challenges does it pose?
Only the very weak fear the loss of power or want to draw their power from hierarchies. When I see the photographs of my predecessors in their ceremonial robes and hats (worn for convocation), I often see this as a carry-over from the past, a blind aping of the West. This formalism makes supplicants out of the people, as if the university were a feudal seat of power. Students have little reach, and teachers come with folded hands. An opening up is needed, a direct reach is needed. I am expediting the radio network, email system, Facebook and newsletters for direct reach.
I will also have a task-force in place that can respond to issues raised. The whole mindset needs a change; we require new ways of engaging with the youth and need not fear their voice. If there are grievances, we need to put in place an office of the Lokayukta, a three-member committee that can work to hear and resolve grievances. Ultimately, though, no institution will survive with too much external intervention. It needs to change itself to reduce the complaints people have from it. We need to listen to the voices of our own, students and teachers alike. This is invaluable if the purpose of the system is to produce wise men and women.
