Once Again, Rethinking University
Introduction
Before proceeding, I should note that this text should be regarded not as a concrete policy proposal but rather as a personal exercise in thought. I am neither an education scientist nor a researcher specializing in the structural transformation of the university as an institution. My aim here is simply to share some personal observations about the crisis that contemporary universities appear to be facing, and to outline, in a modest way, a possible model for reform. This essay does not claim to offer a definitive solution. It should instead be read as a preliminary and open-ended proposal, one that is incomplete, debatable, and open to critique and refinement. I believe that the ideas presented here could be placed on firmer ground through the insights of those working in fields such as education, higher education policy, sociology, or economics. In that sense, this text may also be taken as an invitation to discussion, to criticism, to the identification of gaps and contradictions, and to any form of feedback that might help maintain this conversation.
The Crisis of the University
When we speak of the crisis of the university and the recurring debate over whether universities are still necessary, the issue ultimately turns on a tension between their historical functions and their present role. Historically, universities emerged primarily as centers of scientific inquiry and knowledge production. They institutionalized intellectual activity, making both research and teaching integral to their social mission. Yet in recent years, as access to knowledge has become easier through digital technologies and the cost of higher education has risen dramatically, the indispensability of universities has increasingly been called into question. Many now argue that education can be acquired online, that short-term certificate programs meet most professional needs, and that universities, with their heavy bureaucratic structures, have become too slow to keep pace with the rapidly changing world. According to this view, universities are no longer the sole gateways to knowledge. Open course materials, online classes, YouTube lectures, and certificate programs offered by companies and independent institutions have rendered traditional universities almost optional for many learners. Moreover, in numerous countries, the high cost of university education combined with declining job security after graduation has led people to question whether higher education is still worth the investment. The rise of cheaper, more flexible, and shorter-term learning alternatives has only deepened this crisis of legitimacy.
However, there remain strong counterarguments in defense of the university’s irreplaceable role. First and foremost, the university is not merely an educational institution. It is also the place where science itself is produced. In the natural sciences, philosophy, the social sciences, and engineering alike, much of today’s fundamental research still takes place within university structures. This is not something that can be replicated by online courses or private training programs. Moreover, university education offers far more than technical skills. It develops critical thinking, intellectual breadth, exposure to different perspectives, and the experience of belonging to an academic community. In this sense, the university does not only prepare individuals for a profession, it also enables them to develop an intellectual background and identity. Beyond that, the university diploma continues to function as a widely recognized and trusted form of accreditation. Although digital certificates and online credentials are proliferating, the social authority and symbolic value of a university degree remain largely unmatched.
At the heart of the debate, therefore, lies a fundamental question: should we view the university merely as an institution for education, or as a site primarily devoted to the production of knowledge and the cultivation of intellectual life? While the educational function of universities may now have many alternatives, their role in ensuring the continuity of scientific research, institutionalizing critical thought, and sustaining intellectual communities remains unique. Both sides of the debate, however, tend to agree on one point: universities cannot overcome their current crisis by remaining as they are. They must adopt more flexible programs, integrate digital resources more deeply, reorganize student workloads, and reorient their mission toward research. Only by doing so can the university move beyond its narrow role as a provider of professional training and continue to serve as an intellectual engine for both science and society.
Reinstating the University’s Central Function
I believe that the solution to this crisis lies in reinstating the university’s original and defining purpose, namely its role as a center of research and knowledge production. The functions of education, skill acquisition, and accreditation should, of course, be preserved, but they must be repositioned as secondary and supportive to the university’s primary mission. Education should be reorganized in a way that allows greater flexibility and responsiveness to the expectations of the state, the market, and the students themselves through modular programs, online courses, certifications, and short-term intensive learning opportunities. In such a model, academics sould no longer be overburdened by excessive teaching loads and administrative duties, but instead should be able to devote more time and energy to research. This would not only enhance the quality of scientific output but also create a more sustainable and balanced academic environment. As the educational function becomes more diverse and flexible, the pressure placed upon universities by sheer student volume would diminish, enabling them to fulfill their central mission of producing and advancing knowledge with renewed focus and integrity.
How, then, might such a transformation actually take place? Let us begin by focusing on the educational function of the university. In this new model, the cornerstone of the system would be examinations. The university’s “primary operational role” would be to design and administer examinations that assess students’ knowledge and competencies in specific subjects or skill areas. Students would be free to choose which examinations they wish to take, and those who successfully pass them would receive formal certification acknowledging their achievement. At its core, this would constitute a competence- and knowledge-based system. The format, content, and frequency of these examinations could vary according to the particular skills or areas of expertise being assessed. For example, in order to demonstrate proficiency in “Python programming and deep learning,” a student might need to complete ten different examinations, each testing a distinct sub-skill. In principle, nothing would prevent a highly capable student from passing all these exams within a short period and thus completing the module quickly. However, for practical skills such as programming, this approach could create the risk that the student temporarily masters the material but soon forgets it. For this reason, such modules might employ sequential examinations with intervals of perhaps one month between each stage, so that the student’s mastery and retention of the skill could be observed over time. A student could not take the second exam without passing the first, nor the third without passing the second. In this way, the completion of a module would unfold gradually, ensuring that genuine competence is attained and maintained. Other subjects, however, would not necessarily require this format. A student seeking to demonstrate knowledge of the “History of Witchcraft in the Middle Ages” or of “Philosophical Logic,” for instance, may have already developed substantial expertise outside the university, and the relevant knowledge would be primarily content-based rather than procedural or skill-oriented. In such cases, sequential examinations would not be necessary. The student could take all the required tests within a few weeks, depending on the available examination schedule, and complete the module efficiently. The specific timing and format of examinations would depend on institutional capacities and logistical choices, but the guiding principle would remain consistent, that is to design an appropriate and context-sensitive method of assessment for each distinct field of knowledge or practice. This flexibility would allow the system to balance continuity in skill-based domains with adaptability in knowledge-based ones.
Once the necessary examinations have been successfully completed, the student would earn certification for that module. For example, if a module in developmental psychology requires five examinations and the student passes all five, they would receive a “Developmental Psychology Certificate.” These certificates and modules could, of course, be structured in hierarchical levels. For instance: Developmental Psychology I and Developmental Psychology II. The primary function of the examination–module framework would thus be to measure, verify, and accredit the student’s level of proficiency. Students would not be required to follow any predetermined path, they could choose examinations freely, either in a focused sequence to complete a module or in a more scattered way to accumulate separate certifications across different domains.
In this system, a module would roughly correspond to what is traditionally called a “course.” Some academic or professional titles, however, would require the completion of multiple modules. For example, to obtain a “Software Engineering” certification, a student might have to complete several modules and pass all associated examinations in combination. Importantly, this structure would be fine-tuned at multiple levels. Examinations would be calibrated to specific competencies, modules would be organized around examinations, and titles would be built upon the successful completion of certain combinations of modules. Some modules might require only two examinations per year, while others, depending on the nature of the subject, could offer weekly opportunities for assessment. Note that, here, each title, module, and examination would therefore vary in its scope and intensity. For instance, one professional title might require the successful completion of five modules, while another could demand fifteen. Similarly, a module in one field might consist of only three examinations, whereas another, especially in more technically demanding disciplines, could require ten or more. This variability is not a flaw but a deliberate feature of the system, it allows each domain of knowledge or practice to be assessed according to its own internal complexity and pedagogical needs, rather than through a uniform standard. The model thus remains both scalable and adaptable, ensuring that specialization and accessibility can coexist within the same institutional framework. The greatest advantage of this system lies in the freedom it affords to students. Each learner would determine both the pace and the content of their own education. A highly motivated and disciplined student could, within the same period of time, complete numerous modules and obtain multiple certifications, perhaps the equivalent of three or four traditional majors. Conversely, a student with a more exploratory learning style could choose to take only the examinations that match their interests, collecting certifications in a few selected areas without necessarily completing any full “program” in the traditional sense. In this framework, students are admitted not into departments but into the university itself. There are no fixed “fields” of entry; rather, each student defines their own academic direction through the selection of examinations and modules, allowing for genuinely interdisciplinary and self-directed learning.
Turning to the question of courses, my proposal is that for most fields of knowledge and skill development, formal courses are not necessary. The notion of the “mandatory course,” as it currently exists, should be eliminated altogether. Of course, this may not apply equally across all disciplines. In medicine or certain branches of engineering, fields that require extensive supervision, practice, and experimental validation, exceptions would need to be made. Likewise, some modules or titles might include compulsory components such as research projects, fieldwork, or laboratory practice. Yet even in such cases, these projects would not necessarily have to be conducted within the university itself. A student could pursue research independently at another institution, or in philosophy, for instance, undertake a solitary investigation of their own design. What would be crucial is the establishment of reliable mechanisms to review and verify such work. Apart from these specific exceptions, however, I believe all courses should cease to be mandatory. The extent of this change could vary depending on the discipline, institution, or module in question. This does not mean that courses should disappear altogether, far from it. Faculty members would remain free, and indeed be encouraged, to offer courses. Those who enjoy teaching, or whose students express a desire for direct instruction, could design and run their own classes voluntarily. Yet these courses would be elective, shaped by the mutual consent and enthusiasm of both teacher and student. Enrolling in a course would not be a prerequisite for taking an examination or completing a module. At the same time, universities could still create incentive mechanisms to encourage face-to-face teaching and learning experiences, ensuring that courses remain available as meaningful, flexible opportunities rather than rigid institutional requirements.
One likely objection to such a model is that it would leave students entirely unguided. Indeed, many students are not always aware of what or how they should learn, and this is perfectly natural. Therefore, the reorganization of the university’s educational function in this way must not mean abandoning students to complete autonomy without support. Within this model, faculty members and teaching assistants, or maybe some or all PhD students who are relieved of the heavy obligation of formal teaching,would be expected to allocate certain hours each week to offer consultation and guidance. These sessions might take the form of office hours or problem sessions, depending on the instructor’s area of expertise and the nature of the discipline. In this configuration, the academic staff would no longer be directly responsible for “delivering” learning but rather for orienting and advising it. They would act as guides who point the way while leaving students the freedom to choose their own path. Another key responsibility of the academic staff would be to ensure that clear, accessible, and consistent guidance is provided regarding the content and expectations of modules and examinations. A student who wishes to learn about a particular topic should be able to find out exactly what to read, which sources to consult, which learning methods to try, and how to structure their study process. Likewise, the student should know in advance what competencies the examination will measure, which criteria will be used for evaluation, and how best to prepare for it. The university’s duty, in this sense, would be to establish the infrastructure that allows students to sustain their own learning independently. When difficulties arise, whether confusion, discouragement, or just sheer curiosity, students could consult assistants or professors for mentorship and feedback. This guidance would, of course, remain a flexible framework rather than a rigid prescription. Students would retain the freedom to move beyond the university’s suggested materials and prepare for examinations using their own resources and methods. Fundamentally, the university would provide four core elements: 1) the examinations themselves, 2) transparent information about their content, 3) preparation guides, and 4) access to consultation hours or problem sessions. This, I believe, defines the university’s first and most essential relationship with the student. Beyond this, the university’s primary mission remains research. The mentoring relationship thus becomes not only a means of facilitating learning but also an opportunity to draw students directly into the practice of scientific inquiry. In modules or titles that require research, projects, or fieldwork, students could and indeed should receive direct mentorship from professors and assistants. This would be an organic component of the proposed system. In this way, students with an early interest in research could participate in academic projects from the very beginning of their university experience, becoming part of the process of knowledge production rather than merely its consumers. Such a structure would enable students to cultivate their potential at an early stage while rendering the faculty’s role as mentors more meaningful and productive. In short, what I imagine here is a more flexible, efficient, and research-oriented relationship between students and instructors, one that replaces the burdens of compulsory teaching with genuine intellectual collaboration.
A further aim of this reform is to eliminate the inefficiency that stems from the current system’s overcrowded, mandatory course structure. In many universities today, classes with fifty or even a hundred students are common, making genuine teaching and mentorship virtually impossible. Under such conditions, office hours often become either unfeasible or purely nominal. Most students attend these courses out of obligation rather than interest, they rarely engage actively and often do not truly learn during class. In such large groups, meaningful dialogue between instructor and student is difficult to achieve. The crowd itself discourages both sides from interaction, creating an atmosphere of passive compliance rather than intellectual exchange. The abolition of mandatory courses, therefore, is not merely a bureaucratic adjustment but a structural transformation aimed at enhancing the quality of education. By lightening the academic staff’s unnecessary teaching burden, professors would be able to use their time more productively and dedicate greater energy to research, or just maintain the work-life balance. For students, this would mean a more motivating and intellectually hospitable environment. Participation driven by curiosity rather than compulsion would strengthen one-on-one engagement, allowing the learning process to unfold according to each student’s pace, interests, and methods. Such a system would enable students to benefit more directly from their instructors, while also creating conditions under which instructors might, in turn, benefit from students’ contributions to research and scholarship.
In this model, the emphasis shifts from the quantity of classes to the depth of dialogue, from obligation to interest, from anonymity to individual engagement. The university thus becomes not only a more productive space for teaching and research, but also a more humane and meaningful one. With such a system in place, the burden placed on universities by students who approach them solely as institutions of credentialing and diploma acquisition would be greatly reduced. In the current structure, mandatory courses, attendance requirements, administrative monitoring, and constant assessment procedures have largely overshadowed the university’s primary mission of research. They drain the time and energy of academics, directing their efforts toward educational formalities rather than scientific inquiry. The model I propose seeks to remove this burden by reducing the teaching load of academic staff, enabling them to refocus their intellectual energy on research, creation, and scholarly production. In doing so, both the quality of research and the overall well-being of academic life could improve, leading to a more balanced and sustainable academic ecosystem. Moreover, having fewer but more genuinely engaged students would also reduce the university’s mandatory, student-centered expenditures. Globally, academia is already undergoing a process of contraction, funding is shrinking, budgets are tightening, and academic positions are being reduced. My proposal aims to ensure that this rather inevitable process of shrinkage causes as little harm to science as possible. By introducing structural flexibility, universities could preserve and possibly improve the quality of research while simultaneously reducing financial strain.
One key advantage of this model is that it allows truly motivated students and researchers to excel at their own pace, shifting the criterion of merit from bureaucratic compliance to actual production and competence. At the same time, it provides greater flexibility for students from financially constrained backgrounds, who could balance part-time work with modular learning at their own rhythm. In this sense, the model could also lead to a more organic and reciprocal relationship between academia and industry. Universities would no longer function as rigid institutions of prolonged education but as adaptive, lifelong partners in learning and skill development. Of course, the potential disadvantages of such a system must also be acknowledged. If the university ceases to function primarily as an educational institution, and physical presence becomes less central, students from socioeconomically disadvantaged backgrounds might lose part of their motivation to engage with academia. Furthermore, one of the most valuable aspects of university life, the social dimension of campus experience, the formation of personal networks, and the cultivation of intellectual community, could be weakened in a system that prioritizes flexibility and decentralization. For this reason, it would be essential to design new mechanisms that encourage students to remain physically present on campus, to socialize, and to take part in the shared intellectual culture of the institution. The removal of compulsory courses should not alienate students from the university, but rather enable them to participate more freely and meaningfully in its learning and research communities.
If designed thoughtfully, this model could lead to a healthier, more adaptive, and more intrinsically motivated academic ecosystem. When viewed in its entirety, the system promises potential benefits for all parties involved: the state, the university, the academics and the student. From the state’s perspective, it could reduce the need for large-scale funding or enable higher-quality outcomes with equivalent resources. Universities could redirect their budgets more efficiently by minimizing administrative overheads and mandatory educational expenditures. Academics, freed from excessive teaching and assessment obligations, could devote more of their time to research, mentorship, and creative intellectual work. Students, meanwhile, could pursue their education at their own pace, guided by their interests and intrinsic motivation, embracing a self-paced and self-motivated mode of learning. A further consequence of this transformation would be the dissolution of the current, rigid linkage between specific professions and traditional degree programs. In today’s system, to qualify for a given profession, students must complete years of coursework, much of which may have little direct relevance to their eventual practice. This requirement consumes unnecessary time, energy, and motivation. Under the proposed model, individuals could instead focus solely on the examinations and modules directly related to the knowledge and skills required for a particular occupation. For instance, employers might prioritize the specific examinations candidates have passed, the competencies they have been accredited in, and the modules they have completed rather than the name of their degree or department. In this way, the university would become a more functional and flexible partner in helping individuals achieve their professional goals. Students who approach the university primarily for its educational and credentialing role could thus engage with it in a collaborative rather than dependent manner. For example, a student seeking to learn Python and artificial intelligence could, within one or two years, complete the relevant examinations and accumulate the necessary certifications. These certificates, accredited by universities, could be directly recognized by companies. The student could then use them to apply for positions in the workforce and, as their career evolves, return to the university to acquire new skills and certifications as needed.
Perhaps the most striking aspect of this model is that a student may never complete a traditional “degree” or hold a unified diploma, and yet still be professionally and academically competent. In such a system, the diploma ceases to be a mandatory endpoint. Instead, it is replaced by a dynamic framework of accreditation, one based on skill, production, and continuity. Competence is no longer tied to institutional permanence but to demonstrable ability, cumulative learning, and sustained engagement.
In this configuration, every stakeholder benefits. The state can allocate its resources more efficiently, universities can return to their original purpose as centers of research and innovation, academics gain greater freedom to pursue inquiry rather than bureaucracy, and students are empowered to choose their own paths, cultivating a more deliberate and self-motivated relationship with knowledge. The result is a leaner, more agile, and more symbiotic academic ecosystem that better aligns intellectual pursuit with social and economic realities without compromising its fundamental and foundational values.
Conclusion
In conclusion, the model I have outlined here is only one possible attempt to rethink the university. My intention has not been to prescribe a definitive reform, but rather to explore how the university’s two fundamental functions research and education might be reconfigured not as competing but as mutually reinforcing processes. The proposals developed throughout this essay are, of course, partial, debatable, and in many respects speculative. Their feasibility, internal consistency, and broader social implications all require further examination. This text should therefore be read not as a finished blueprint, but as an invitation, a draft meant to contruibute to the discussion about the university’s future. I would particularly welcome feedback concerning potential contradictions, overlooked consequences, socioeconomic implications, and the relationship between such a model and academic autonomy. Perhaps engaging in such a conversation, however tentative, is itself a way of reclaiming the possibility of thinking about the university again, not merely as an institution in crisis, but as one that can still be reimagined.