Silent campuses: where did we lose our way?

I often repeat a line in my classroom: "There was a time when everyone studied at the university." This is not merely nostalgia; it is a recollection of a collective academic spirit. Knowledge was not a fashionable pursuit then, but it carried dignity. Classrooms were quiet, not with indifference, but with attentive silence. Questions were raised, debates unfolded, and even disagreement was treated as an essential pathway to learning.

Then, gradually, something changed.

The first signs appeared among male students. Academic seriousness began to wane. Attendance became a formality, preparation weakened, and degrees replaced knowledge as the ultimate goal. The reasons may have been many (i.e. economic pressures, the lure of quick success, or shifting social priorities) but the truth remains: the first cracks in academic commitment emerged there.

Soon, this pattern extended to female students as well. Those once admired for their diligence and consistency became part of the same drifting current. This shift cannot be reduced to a matter of gender; it reflects a deeper, systemic educational crisis. When the environment itself is shaped by uncertainty, haste and superficiality, no group remains untouched.

At times today, it feels as though the final link in this chain, namely the teacher, is also weakening. When students show little interest, institutions are consumed by administrative burdens, and society gradually erodes respect for educators, teaching ceases to be a mission and becomes merely a job. The race for publications, the weight of paperwork over pedagogy, and constant professional pressures quietly exhaust the teacher's spirit.

But the question remains: have teachers truly stopped teaching, or have they too fallen victim to this wider apathy? And do students genuinely not wish to learn, or are they deprived of an environment that nurtures learning? The truth, perhaps, lies somewhere in between.

We have come to accept education as a practical necessity, yet we have diminished its moral and intellectual value. For many parents, the foremost concern is no longer what kind of human being their child will become, but how much they will earn. Institutions, too, increasingly prioritise rankings and promotional achievements over intellectual growth. The inevitable result is a gradual erosion of the classroom's soul.

Education is not the mere completion of a syllabus. It is the cultivation of curiosity, the courage to question, the tolerance for disagreement, and the respect for reason. When questions diminish in classrooms and photocopied notes gain importance, it is a sign that something fundamental has been lost.

Yet despair is not the answer.

If this decline has been gradual, recovery too must be gradual. Teachers must rediscover their professional purpose including entering classrooms prepared, challenging students to think, and embodying integrity and diligence. Students, in turn, must recognise that education is not merely a ladder to their future, but the very foundation of their character. Institutions must move beyond measuring educators solely through performance metrics and acknowledge their intellectual and moral contributions.

Reviving the silence of our campuses does not require grand revolutions, but sincere, incremental efforts. A thoughtfully asked question, a well-prepared lecture, a student who feels heard and these are in fact the moments from which change begins.

In reclaiming this lost spirit, we must confront our collective complacency through silent acceptance of decline within our academic spaces. The silence that now fills our campuses is no longer the calm of reflection, but the absence of intellectual courage: the unwillingness to question, challenge, and think beyond the obvious. We must ask when convenience replaced curiosity, and how conformity came to overshadow critical thought. The revival of our academic culture cannot be achieved through policy or reform alone, but through a shared moral and intellectual commitment to care again, deeply and sincerely. Only then can universities become true spaces of thought, not routine.