Learning in the age of consumption
The writer is a Professor of Physics at the University of Karachi
A university is a place where students do not simply acquire information; they learn how to question, disagree, reason, accept correction and grow into more thoughtful human beings. Yet one of the great tragedies of our time is that higher education, particularly in the private sector, is increasingly being treated as a commercial product. When knowledge becomes a business, the student becomes a customer, and the teacher is reduced to a service provider, the very soul of the university begins to suffer.
The commercial model of education is often visually attractive. Elegant buildings, modern cafés, polished campuses, advertising campaigns, branded degrees and comfortable facilities appeal to both parents and students. There is nothing wrong with good infrastructure or a pleasant learning environment. However, the real question is whether intellectual quality stands behind this outward shine. Are students actually learning to think? Are they being trained in research, criticism, creativity, discipline and academic honesty? Or are they simply paying fees in exchange for a certificate?
The issue becomes more serious when universities rely mainly on enrolment numbers for financial survival. As maximum admissions become the priority, academic standards are pushed aside: courses are made easier, difficult questions are avoided, critical thinking is replaced by simple assignments, and teachers feel pressured not to upset students. As a result, education shifts from intellectual formation to customer satisfaction.
This is where the student slowly turns into a consumer. A consumer believes that because a price has been paid, comfort, convenience, and the desired outcome must follow. But education does not work like ordinary consumption. True education is not always easy or immediately pleasant. It unsettles the learner, demands effort, exposes weaknesses, and sometimes tells the student that they are wrong. If teachers stop challenging students because they fear complaints or poor evaluations, education loses its transformative power.
One dangerous consequence of this commercial culture is the devaluation of grades. When marks are awarded generously to retain students or keep them satisfied, the transcript loses its academic meaning. It becomes a decorative document rather than evidence of competence. The labour market then receives graduates who may possess degrees but often lack critical thinking, communication skills, research discipline, professional maturity and problem-solving ability. This is why the number of degree-holders may rise while the gap between qualification and capability continues to widen.
This crisis is not confined to private universities; public-sector universities also face resource shortages, administrative and political pressures, inconsistent policies and internal weaknesses. Yet they remain nationally vital because they serve talented, ambitious students who cannot afford expensive private education. If properly strengthened, public universities can still promote social justice, academic seriousness and national development.
Commercialisation of education also deepens social inequality. Expensive universities are accessible mainly to those who can pay, while many capable students from modest backgrounds are pushed aside. Knowledge, instead of being treated as a public good, becomes tied to purchasing power. For the urban elite, education becomes an experience; for rural and low-income students, it remains a struggle against a weak and unequal system. This divide is not only educational but also intellectual and social.
We must rethink the purpose of education by asking not what a degree will give us, but what education will make of us. While degrees may help secure employment, true education should shape character, judgment, imagination, responsibility and independent thought. Governments, regulatory bodies and universities must look beyond buildings, facilities and enrolment numbers, and instead focus on strong curricula, serious research, teacher autonomy, fair examinations and intellectual rigour. Teachers should be treated as teachers, students as learners, and universities as centres of knowledge rather than marketplaces; otherwise, we may produce more degree-holders but fewer thinkers.