A chance encounter with a Head of Department in a university

I met a Head of Department of a university. I had a chat with him. "What is your top priority?" I asked. "Last year we were ranked XX and this year we aim to break into the top 20."

I was shocked.

I thought I was hearing things wrongly. I clarified. Top priority. Same answer. I wondered if I was being naive. But shouldn't the top priority be the students and how they can get a wholesome education? It brought out a flood of thoughts in my head. I had thought that educators in the university should be looking at how to train the minds to be ready to contribute to the nation in the future. The workforce would then be the engine for the economy. The trained students will also carry out ideas and thinking from the very best to ensure that our industries are at their tip top. What other things should be at the top of his mind? I expected curriculum, I expected thinking about how to develop breakthrough research, I expected them to think about how to bring the technology out to translation. Ok, maybe the last part was a bit of a stretch but the rest seemed reasonable.

What have we descended into? Are we focusing on the right things? Now focusing on rankings, how much money is brought into the department either via grants or other means. Are we asking too much of professors? And are professors made for such things?

This encounter, this brief, jarring conversation, isn't an indictment of one Head of Department. It’s a symptom of a systemic fever that has gripped higher education globally. The HOD is not a villain; he is a player in a game with rules he did not write, but rules he must master to survive and, in his view, for his department to thrive.

The logic, from his perspective, is seductively simple. A higher ranking is not the end goal itself, but the master key. It unlocks everything else. A top 20 ranking attracts the brightest students, the most prestigious (and well-funded) star academics, larger research grants, and more lucrative industry partnerships. With these resources, so the thinking goes, you can then build better labs, design better curricula, and ultimately provide a better education. The ranking becomes a proxy for quality, a shorthand for excellence in a complex and competitive world.

But here lies the dangerous substitution: the map has replaced the territory. We have become so obsessed with the proxy that we have forgotten the principle. The pursuit of the metrics that constitute the ranking has become the new curriculum.

Consider what these rankings often measure:

Why research citations? This incentivizes publishing in high-impact journals, sometimes at the expense of more speculative, slower, or foundational research that doesn't generate quick citations. It can also devalue the professor who is a phenomenal, life-changing teacher but a less prolific publisher.

Why reputation surveys? Academic and employer reputations are polled. This turns education into a brand-management exercise. The focus shifts from the substance of the education to the perception of it.

Why faculty-student ratio? A seemingly student-centric metric. But it can be gamed by hiring more adjuncts or non-tenured staff, which can affect the stability and quality of mentorship.

Why internationalization? The ratio of international students and staff. This is a laudable goal for diversity, but when pursued for ranking points, it can become a financial strategy, seeking out full-fee-paying students rather than a genuine cross-pollination of ideas.

What is lost in this translation? What isn't measured by these league tables?

The quality of undergraduate teaching.

The mentorship that shapes a student's character and critical thinking.

The well-being and mental health of both students and faculty under immense pressure.

The role of the university as a public good, a critic and conscience of society, rather than just an engine for the economy.

The courage to teach and research subjects that are unpopular or not immediately profitable.

Are we asking too much of professors? I believe we are asking the wrong things. We are asking a scholar to be a fundraiser, a researcher to be a marketer, a mentor to be a manager of metrics. The skills that make someone a brilliant historian, a groundbreaking physicist, or an inspiring philosopher are not the skills required to navigate the complex game of international university rankings.

This has led to a silent crisis in academia. We are selecting for leaders who are good at playing the game, who speak the language of KPIs, deliverables, and strategic frameworks. We risk losing the visionaries, the iconoclasts, and the quiet, dedicated teachers who are the true heart of a university.

The final, most haunting question is not just about the HOD's priority, but about our own. As a society, what do we want our universities to be? Are they corporations competing in a global marketplace for prestige and profit? Or are they sanctuaries for curiosity, crucibles for innovation, and custodians of our collective intellectual heritage?

The HOD gave an honest answer to a system that demands it. Perhaps the real shock is that we have collectively allowed this system to take hold, and we have not yet found the courage to demand a different answer.