John J. Kennedy | UGC’s Curricular Framework Is Not Reform, It’s Really A Regressive Step

The University Grants Commission’s draft Learning Outcomes-based Curriculum Framework (LOCF) is more than just another round of bureaucratic tinkering with syllabuses. It marks a worrying departure for Indian higher education that threatens to unravel the very principles of secularism, democracy and the scientific temper that form the core of our constitutional vision. What is being proposed under the guise of reform is not simply a change of textbooks or topics, but a deeper attempt to shift the spirit of education away from inquiry and evidence towards mythology and ideology.

The draft framework, and the state-level debates it has already triggered, lay bare a troubling pattern. Courses across disciplines are being retrofitted with content that privileges Hindu mythology and religious practices, even in subjects long grounded in empirical reasoning and critical analysis. Chemistry courses will begin with an invocation to Goddess Saraswati, followed by Ayurveda and Siddha medicine modules, where students will study the healing properties of milk, honey and herbs. Mathematics and political science are reimagined through Panchanga calendars, Vedic astrology and cosmic cycles. Commerce is infused with lessons on “Ram Rajya” as a model of governance and economy. And history, instead of encouraging critical engagement with sources, is filtered through selective readings of texts such as the Arthashastra and V.D. Savarkar’s Indian War of Independence.

At first glance, this may appear to be an attempt to foreground India’s cultural traditions. On the contrary, this is not about cultural enrichment but about “saffronisation”. Education is being pressed into the service of a Hindutva-centric worldview, where mythology stands in for history, religious philosophy for political science, and faith for reason. In this framework, figures celebrated by the ruling side enjoy pride of place, while those who shaped modern India’s rational, liberal and democratic traditions -- from B.R. Ambedkar and Jawaharlal Nehru to scientists like Homi Bhabha -- are quietly sidelined or erased.

Such curricular engineering is not just unwise; it is simply not constitutional. Article 51A(h) of the Constitution calls upon every citizen to develop a scientific temper, humanism, and the spirit of inquiry and reform. The draft framework does the exact opposite. It elevates myth over method, custom over critique, faith over fact. In doing so, it pushes young Indians away from the habits of questioning, reasoning and testing essential to intellectual growth. To teach astrology as mathematics, to substitute Ayurvedic alchemy for modern chemistry, or to glorify a romanticised “Ram Rajya” as a template for governance is to retreat from centuries of hard-earned progress in rational thought. It blurs the line between history and mythology, cultural memory and empirical knowledge.

Equally worrying is the way this framework undermines the autonomy of universities themselves. Higher education, by its very nature, gives scholars the freedom and institutions to decide what is worth studying, how knowledge should be disseminated, and what methods best serve inquiry. By imposing centrally drafted guidelines that leave little room for dissenting voices or regional diversity, the UGC is flattening the intellectual landscape. Faculty boards and academic councils, once the custodians of disciplinary rigour, are bypassed. The message is unmistakable: universities are no longer arenas of debate and discovery, but instruments for broadcasting a political narrative.

Consequently, students trained under such a framework will emerge less capable of critical thought, less equipped to handle the complexities of a globalised world, and more vulnerable to dogma. Higher education is meant to cultivate judgment, sharpen reasoning, and prepare citizens for a democratic life. If students are instead taught that cultural pride matters more than empirical truth, or that conformity is more valuable than curiosity, the entire purpose of a university education is defeated.

Besides, this retreat into ideology carries international costs. Indian universities already struggle to climb global rankings and make their mark in cutting-edge research. Infusing syllabuses with astrology and myth will only weaken credibility further, making it harder for graduates to compete internationally or contribute meaningfully to global research networks. In science and technology, where evidence and innovation drive progress, including non-empirical content will put Indian students at a serious disadvantage. In a century of artificial intelligence, biotechnology, and planetary challenges like climate change, India cannot afford to handicap its youth by offering them nostalgia instead of knowledge.

None of this is to deny the richness of India’s intellectual heritage. The subcontinent’s ancient philosophy, mathematics, linguistics, and medicine traditions are worth studying, but they should be studied critically, historically and comparatively. They belong in classrooms as subjects of rigorous inquiry, not as unquestioned truths or ideological props. To romanticise the past without subjecting it to scrutiny is not education; it is indoctrination.

So, what is at stake here is larger than syllabuses or course structures. It is about the character of Indian democracy and the future of our youth. A secular, pluralist and rational education system is not a luxury but the bedrock of a modern society. When that foundation is eroded and education becomes a tool of propaganda, we risk producing citizens who are unprepared for the responsibilities of democracy and the challenges of the modern world.

The UGC’s draft curriculum framework must therefore be seen for what it is: not a reform, but a regression. It seeks to recast universities as temples of ideology rather than laboratories of thought. It diminishes the promise of higher education as a space of free inquiry, debate, and discovery. And it endangers the constitutional values that have guided India since Independence.

The measure of national pride lies not in rewriting syllabuses to flatter cultural vanity, but in preparing citizens who can compete, contribute, and think fearlessly in a world of ideas.

The writer is retired professor and former dean of the School of Arts and Humanities at Christ University in Bengaluru