The Rot in Education, From Negative Marks in NEET-PG to Failing Government Schools, a System in Crisis
It would be difficult to decide which was the greater tragedy: the spectacle of college students presenting a Chinese robodog as their own creation at the AI Summit, or the admission of students with negative marks into post-graduate medical classes. However, one thing is beyond doubt: both incidents are symptoms of the deep, pervasive rot that plagues India’s education system. They are not isolated aberrations, but rather the visible, embarrassing tip of an iceberg that extends from the foundational level of primary schooling to the highest echelons of professional education. The system is failing its students, and through them, it is failing the nation.
Consider the medical admissions scandal. An examinee who leaves their answer book blank would get zero marks in the NEET-PG examination. To end up with negative marks requires a special kind of ignorance combined with a particular form of foolishness—a truly dangerous combination for someone aspiring to be a medical specialist. A more savvy, though equally ignorant, candidate might simply choose the same option, say ‘A’, for all 200 questions. Given that a correct answer yields four marks and a wrong answer deducts one, such a candidate would end up with a comfortable 50 marks. But the candidates who scored negative marks managed to get more answers wrong than right, a feat of consistent inaccuracy that raises fundamental questions about their basic qualifications.
The government’s response to this crisis, as revealed in an affidavit filed in the Supreme Court, was even more alarming than the problem itself. The Health Ministry argued that reducing the cut-off was a “recurrent phenomenon” and that if the minimum qualifying marks were not lowered, 9,600 medical speciality seats would remain vacant. The logic is perverse. Instead of questioning the quality of education that produces such poorly prepared candidates, or the proliferation of substandard medical colleges that cannot attract qualified students, the solution is simply to lower the bar. The public will certainly not benefit from having such poor-quality medical specialists. And given that the overwhelming majority of these vacant seats are in private medical colleges, it is not difficult to see who benefits from lowering the cut-off: the owners of those colleges, who would otherwise face financial ruin from empty seats. Commercialisation, not competence, is driving policy.
The same commercialisation and lack of academic integrity were on display at the AI Summit. College students shamelessly presented a Chinese robodog as their own creation, apparently believing that such blatant plagiarism would go undetected at a forum where the world’s top IT talent was present. Any reasonably intelligent person would have known that the deception would be uncovered. Yet, when the robodog was called out, no remorse was expressed—neither by the students who claimed to have created it, nor by the college management that furthered the deception. To be fair, a leading IT company had also showcased the same robodog at the summit, but they did not claim it as their own creation. The contrast in ethics is stark. Significantly, just desserts have eluded all the dramatis personae involved in this sordid drama. There are no consequences for cheating, no penalties for fraud, no deterrence against plagiarism. In such an environment, why would anyone choose the harder path of genuine achievement?
Sadly, the rot in the education system starts at the very beginning, in the foundational years of primary school. The Annual Status of Education Report (ASER) 2024, a survey of 6.5 lakh children, revealed a catastrophe in the making. It found that 76% of Class 3 students, 55.2% of Class 5 students, and 32.5% of Class 8 students still cannot read texts designed for Class 2 level. Over 66% of Class 3 and Class 5 students struggle with simple mathematics. These are not just statistics; they are millions of children being failed by a system that is not teaching them the most basic skills. The reason for this failure is not far to seek.
Government schools, many established by the British more than a century ago, remain the backbone of our education system, particularly for the poor. But due to decades of neglect, most of these schools are now floundering. Buildings are crumbling. There is a huge and chronic shortage of teachers. Most government primary schools operate with a single teacher, who is expected to teach multiple classes simultaneously in a single room. A viral video from Bihar showed five primary government schools operating from a single room, with five teachers writing on a single blackboard to a roomful of bemused children. The education imparted in such conditions is, inevitably, of an abysmal standard. Despite occasional notifications from the highest levels, no sustained or serious effort is visible for the improvement of government schools, where the vast majority of poor children are meant to get educated.
The shortage of teachers is amplified by the fact that they are entrusted with all kinds of non-academic administrative tasks. They are pulled away from the classroom to conduct vaccine surveys, manage Gram Sabha work, revise voter lists, enrol students under the Aadhaar scheme, organize sports events, lead cleanliness drives, and conduct nutrition surveys. Teachers have become the workhorses for various government schemes, including the ongoing Special Intensive Revision (SIR) exercise. The strenuous nature of this job, which leaves no time for actual teaching, has resulted in a number of suicides. In a new low, the Gujarat government recently issued a circular (since withdrawn) directing teachers to conduct a survey of stray dogs in and around school campuses. Schoolchildren fare little better; they are often asked to swell crowds for VIP visits and government-sponsored events, their education once again interrupted for political purposes.
Paradoxically, instead of fixing these schools, the government is closing them down on the pretext of low enrolment, thereby negating the fundamental Right to Education. An obvious solution would be to provide adequate funds and appoint able and motivated persons, with sufficient financial and administrative powers, as heads of government schools. Surely, the government has sufficient resources to spare teachers from non-educational duties by hiring ad-hoc volunteers to carry forward government schemes.
Secondary education appears, on the surface, to be doing better. The pass rates in CBSE board examinations are sky-high: almost 94% in Class 10 and 88.4% in Class 12, with nearly two lakh students scoring above 90% in Class 10 and 1.1 lakh in Class 12. But this facade is ripped away at the next stage, when students face engineering and medical entrance examinations. The qualifying score at the JEE Advanced examination was a mere 20.56%, and at NEET, it was just 18.75%. The board exam marks are clearly inflated, providing a false sense of achievement and masking deep learning deficits. We also have the sad spectacle of parents doing everything possible to ‘help’ their wards, whether it is climbing walls to pass chits during exams, or trying to cut deals with examiners. The culture of cheating has become normalized.
Built on such a rickety and unstable foundation, the edifice of higher education is bound to be shaky. Universities have proliferated from just 17 in 1947 to more than 1,300 now, but quality has definitely deteriorated. The prime reason is that there are few employment opportunities for young men and women with traditional, non-vocational education. As a result, great universities of yesteryears, like Calcutta University, now have a large number of vacant seats at the undergraduate level. Even engineering courses in run-of-the-mill institutions have no value in the job market. Not surprisingly, hardly half the seats of undergraduate engineering courses could be filled up across India.
Yet, quality college education does matter. It develops essential skills like analytical thinking, active learning, and complex problem-solving, which result in brighter college graduates with the right skillset being paid more and employed at higher levels. This explains why sixteen lakh students compete for just 18,000 IIT seats. The icing on the cake is that a talented alumnus of an IIT or IIM can, one day, aspire to become the CEO of a top US corporation. But for the vast majority of students outside this charmed circle, the picture is bleak. A student of ordinary means faces a cruel dilemma. After completing school, he has little capital, skill, or experience to strike out on his own. If he goes to a second-grade college, he can only hope for some small-time employment after wasting his parents’ money and several years of his own life.
The obvious solution is to link education to jobs, an idea that is not untried. In Germany and Switzerland, one-half to nearly two-thirds of students pursue vocational education. The National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 rightly aims to introduce vocational education at all levels by integrating it into mainstream education in all institutions by 2030. But implementation is far behind schedule. The NEP had envisaged that by 2025, at least half of all students would have vocational exposure through school and higher education. The problem appears to be one of both finance and resolve. The NEP document requires that 6% of GDP be spent on education; we are currently spending only half that. Further, the changeover to NEP requires massive teacher re-education, new infrastructure, and a complete overhaul of the education system—all of which is easier said than achieved. Perhaps a small beginning can be made by developing courses that foster specialization in emerging fields like horticulture, childcare, and customer marketing, which offer higher-paying jobs and could provide a model for the larger, more difficult transformation that is so desperately needed. The rot is deep, but it is not irreversible. It will require, however, a collective national commitment to truth, to quality, and to the future of our children.
Questions and Answers
Q1: What was the government’s controversial justification for lowering the cut-off marks in NEET-PG admissions?
A1: The Health Ministry argued in a Supreme Court affidavit that reducing the cut-off was a “recurrent phenomenon” and necessary because otherwise 9,600 medical speciality seats would remain vacant. Critics argue this logic prioritizes filling seats (especially in private colleges) over ensuring the quality of medical specialists, as candidates with negative marks would be admitted.
Q2: What do the ASER 2024 findings reveal about the state of foundational learning in India?
A2: The ASER 2024 survey of 6.5 lakh children revealed a severe learning crisis: 76% of Class 3 students, 55.2% of Class 5 students, and 32.5% of Class 8 students cannot read texts designed for Class 2 level. Over 66% of younger students struggle with basic maths, indicating a systemic failure in primary education.
Q3: Besides a shortage of teachers, what other factor contributes to the poor state of government schools?
A3: Teachers are burdened with a multitude of non-academic administrative tasks, including vaccine surveys, voter list revision, cleanliness drives, and even (in a withdrawn Gujarat circular) a survey of stray dogs. This leaves them with little time or energy for actual teaching, effectively pulling them out of the classroom.
Q4: How does the article characterize the high pass rates in CBSE board examinations?
A4: The article calls the high pass rates (nearly 94% in Class 10) a “facade” that is ripped away when students face competitive exams like JEE Advanced and NEET, where qualifying scores are as low as 20.56% and 18.75%. This suggests board exam marks are inflated and mask deep learning deficits.
Q5: What is the main recommendation of the National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 to address the skills gap, and what is the problem with its implementation?
A5: NEP 2020 aims to integrate vocational education into mainstream schooling at all levels by 2030, linking education to jobs. Implementation is lagging due to a lack of funds (India spends only 3% of GDP on education, against the NEP’s target of 6%) and the immense challenge of overhauling the system, including teacher re-education and new infrastructure.
