Slowing Down the Sciences

“Science needs time to think. Science needs time to read and time to fail.”

Such is the powerful proposition made by the Slow Science Manifesto, supported by the Slow Science Academy in Germany. Considering the state of sciences and academia in ASEAN today, it is a message that intellectuals here must heed.

The concept of “slow science” is sparking a lively debate in academia, particularly in Europe and other Western nations. Slow science aims to address a fundamental issue: How can we produce meaningful, quality science in today’s fast-paced academic environment?

Ironically, this movement – despite calling for a slowdown – has gained momentum because of the perceived problems in academia recently.

The pressure to publish more papers is what proponents of slow science are concerned about. The obsession with metrics – paper counts, citation scores and institutional rankings – turns research into mere accumulating numbers rather than about the true quality and impact of the work.

This critique is mainly reflected in the works of scholars like Christian Fuchs and Isabelle Stengers.

In many fields, particularly economics and medicine, the pressure to publish frequently has led to practices like “salami slicing”, where researchers break down a single, comprehensive study into smaller, less substantial papers simply to meet publication quotas.

Similarly, in engineering and psychology, the pressure to meet publication targets has contributed to the unethical practice of “p-hacking”, where researchers manipulate data analysis to achieve desired outcomes, thus undermining the integrity of scientific work.

This problem is not just a Western one; it is unquestionably relevant in developing economies, especially ASEAN, where academic pressures can be intense.

Scientists in ASEAN are pressured to meet artificial targets and work within rigid deadlines that prioritize output over substance. For instance, in Indonesia, the “publish or perish” culture demands a specific number of publications in high-impact journals for promotions and funding.

Similarly, in Malaysia, academics must meet rigid Key Performance Indicators (KPIs) tied to publication quotas, which often result in fragmented or less meaningful studies. In Thailand, graduate students are required to publish in indexed journals just to graduate, which leads to superficial work.

All of this phenomenon creates a dilemma: how can we produce truly impactful, interdisciplinary research when the conditions for such work—time, focus, and critical thinking—are in short supply solely to meet immediate institutional demands?

At its core, slow science calls on academicians to take a step back from rushing publications and examine their professional lives carefully. This is not just about a slower pace for the sake of it; it’s about creating space for deeper thinking and better science for all.

But how does slowing down help? If universities are too focused on trying to hit big numbers and rankings, it can compromise the depth and quality of research. When we focus too much on numbers, we forget what really matters—conducting research that helps people and makes a difference.

Publish or Perish?

When scientists discover something new, they share their findings in scientific journals so others can learn from them and make even more discoveries. This helps science move forward.

However, research papers can be retracted if there are issues concerning their accuracy or ethical standards. In fact, this issue has surged in recent years. In 2023 alone, over 10,000 papers were retracted globally, setting a new record.

Recent studies show that the pressure to quickly produce data and publish research has a detrimental effect on the quality of studies, leading to more papers being retracted. Plagiarism is the second most common cause, responsible for 16% of these retractions.

Fake peer reviews are also a big problem. Normally, experts review research papers and give helpful feedback, but in the last 10 years, these issues have become much more common – increasing 10 times – eroding the integrity of this essential process.

To make it worse, some companies sell fake research papers—about 2% of all research published in 2022 came from these companies.

More science papers are being retracted because the research was not conducted right. This underscores a worrying misuse of government spending on research or studies that are not relevant.

But it is not just about wasting money. Erroneous studies can mislead other scientists into spending time and resources on ideas that do not work. This can slow down progress, harm public trust and undermine the credibility of science. Therefore, there is an imperative to address these cracks in the system.

Nourishing Science

The slow science concept borrowed its rationale from the Slow Food movement that began in Italy in the 1980s. The idea behind it was simple: Fast food, while convenient, is often stripped of nutritional value and people would be healthier if they cooked nourishing meals made from fresh ingredients.

As a movement, Slow Food started with big ideas, though it has faced challenges against fast food corporations.

People who support slow science believe that the research process today is a bit like fast food—it is undertaken quickly, yet lacking the depth and quality.

This notion has been propagated by individuals like Dr. Joël Candau, an anthropologist from Université Nice-Sophia-Antipolis, who equates “fast science” to fast food—one that focuses on accomplishing a lot quickly instead of properly.

To truly embrace the idea of slow science, we need to think beyond just research practices and consider the mindset it calls for—a focus on slowing down and fully immersing in the process.

This approach resists the pressure to “publish or perish”, a pressure that often reduces research to a numbers game, turning science into a fast-food simulacrum that is produced for consumption rather than contemplation.

Just like slow food means taking time to make food tasty and healthy, slow science means scientists should take their time with research. In other words, conducting studies that are genuinely beneficial for humanity.

Concerns for ASEAN Countries

Ethical issues, plagiarism, the “shortcut” to professorship and poor welfare for academicians are some key challenges that stem from our obsession with fast-paced science. This is because, as mentioned above, universities are pressured to produce high output as quickly as possible, in large part to climb the global rankings and attract elusive research funding.

This system may produce more papers, but it often misses the true purpose of academic research—advancing knowledge in ways that benefit society. If Indonesia wishes to build an academic system that genuinely contributes to its development, it must start by valuing depth over speed. The government must invest in fostering an environment where scientists are encouraged to think critically and freely rather than just “producing on demand”.

The conversation about “slow science” is one that academic leaders and thinkers in Southeast Asia must start. Indeed, for Indonesia and many other ASEAN Member States (AMS), there is an urgent need to speed up higher education reforms to catch up with leading global institutions elsewhere, an imperative that cannot be ignored.

The push for modernization, funding and global recognition is real, and there is no question about the necessity of speeding up these processes. However, this swift pace must not come at the cost of quality and depth in research.

The hard part is getting things to balance. AMS have to rapidly transform the quality of their educational institutions to meet global standards. However, if these changes are solely focused on speed and quantity, they risk undermining the very essence of what science should be – thoughtful questioning, deep exploration, and significant discovery.

Thus, AMS must not only reform quickly but also create environments where researchers can work with the intellectual freedom and time needed to truly innovate, reflect, and contribute to societal development in ways that are sustainable as well as impactful in the long run.

Where to from Here?

So, what is the solution? The government, representing the general public interest, bears the greatest responsibility to address the externalities of fast-paced science.

One of the first steps in reforming our higher education system is to restore the autonomy of public research universities. By autonomy, we mean the ability of universities to function without undue external interference, especially from government bodies, political influences or commercial interests.

In practical terms, this autonomy allows universities to define their own academic, research and institutional priorities. This reform is pivotal, as it holds far-reaching implications—from securing stable funding to enabling researchers to pursue long-term goals that prospectively lead to groundbreaking discoveries.

At the same time, it is essential to streamline bureaucratic processes that often impede progress. Revising centralized policies and cutting down on unnecessary administrative barriers will create a significant change.

The new Minister and Deputy Minister of Higher Education of Indonesia, Satryo Brodjonegoro and Stella Christie, can take the lead by focusing on this reform. Once universities regain their autonomy, they will be able to function as dynamic knowledge hubs, addressing national challenges deliberatively.

Furthermore, universities, research institutions and funding agencies need to improve their due diligence and hold those responsible for misconduct accountable. These steps are crucial to ensure scientists can focus on their research without unnecessary distractions – creating an environment where they can approach their work with the care and attention it deserves.

Pioneering initiatives, such as the Max Planck Society in Germany and the Wellcome Trust in the United Kingdom, could serve as valuable benchmarks for ASEAN research ecosystems. These institutions exemplify the power of good governance, strategic funding and thoughtful institutional design, enabling researchers to pursue long-term goals without the pressure of immediate results. Ultimately, it is up to the scientists themselves to engage with society’s problems – in a different kind of academic atmosphere – one that is not defined by speed but by the quality of reason. Therefore, a slower, more thoughtful academia will enable real progress in solving our most pressing social challenges.

Hailing from Kano State, a historic state in northern Nigeria, I embarked on a journey inspired by my passion for cross-cultural experiences. This adventure led me to Indonesia, a land brimming with diverse traditions and rich cultures.

As an international student, I believe that st­­­­udying abroad goes far beyond just acquiring good grades. It is a journey that opens our minds to new ways of life, challenges our assumptions and allows us to see the world through fresh perspectives.

Beyond the stunning landscapes and friendly smiles, Indonesia’s deep-rooted customs and diverse communities make it an ideal destination for those with a taste for adventure.

One summer in 2023 became an unforgettable adventure, marked by my visit to an intriguing pesantren, a traditional Islamic boarding school that teach both conventional and modern religious knowledge. My stay at this unique institution became a journey of self-reflection, offering a glimpse into the power of community and faith. For a foreigner, it also opens an opportunity to learn about Indonesia’s traditional education.

Tracing the Etymologies of “Pesantren” and “Santri”

Tracing the etymologies of “pesantren” and “santri” takes us to a fascinating journey through Indonesia’s cultural and religious landscapes.

While the exact origins remain open to debate, two main theories hold prominence. The first points to “santri”, as the root term, signifying those dedicated to pursuing deep Islamic knowledge. This theory is supported by the linguistic link to the Sanskrit term “shastri”, which indicates a historical emphasis on reading and knowledge in pesantren. Clifford Geertz, a renowned anthropologist, endorses this viewpoint by referring to the Hindu-Buddhist term “Shastri”, implying that pre-Islamic traditions may have had an impact on these educational institutions.

A contrasting theory posits that “pesantren” itself gave rise to the term “santri”, implying a place dedicated to cultivating seekers of Islamic knowledge. This interpretation aligns with the contemporary understanding of pesantren as sanctuaries for scholarly pursuits and spiritual growth.

Interestingly, the term “santri” also transcends the term “student”, encompassing “religiously oriented Muslims” in a broader social context. This distinction underlines the unique identity and social impact of pesantren graduates within the Indonesian society.

The Evolution of Pesantren: From Traditional to Modern

Historically, traditional pesantren in Java served as sanctuaries for the preservation and transmission of Islamic knowledge. The primacy of ulama or kyai (head of pesantren) was pivotal, as they molded the curriculum and guided students in a world centered on religious texts and practices.

These institutions played vital roles within the Muslim community, ensuring the transfer of religious knowledge, instilling a profound respect for Islamic traditions and laying the foundation for future generations of ulama.

Nevertheless, based on personal assessment, Indonesia’s evolving landscape and the changing needs of its Muslim population have led pesantren into a captivating era of adaptation. While the traditional core remains deeply embedded, modern elements are increasingly interwoven into these institutions. The moralistic authority of a kyai still holds influence, yet classrooms now resonate with discussions spanning science and technology alongside the wisdom found in kitab kuning texts. Innovative teaching methods have been embraced, allowing modern subjects to coexist with classical Islamic studies.

The root of pesantren in Indonesia runs deep, dating back to the 13^th century or even earlier, playing a pivotal role in preserving and disseminating Islamic knowledge in the country.

However, contemporary literature on pesantren highlights a diversity, with various institutions offering distinct curricula, teaching methods and organizational structures. In present-day Indonesia, the terms “pondok pesantren” or “pondok pesantren modern” are commonly used in formal discourse to refer to these institutions. The former is used to describe traditional Islamic boarding schools, while the latter is used to describe modern Islamic boarding schools.

My Days at a Pondok Pesantren Modern

During my stay in Indonesia, I interacted with many individuals who either graduated from pesantrens or had close connections with them. Attending a renowned institution like Gontor is considered a mark of distinction and accomplishment. My curiosity led me to explore some reputable pondok pesantrens modern in West Java. I observe that for Indonesians, pesantrens are more than just schools – they are institutions that instill morality, patriotism, religiosity and a drive for self-improvement in students. These institutions lay the foundation for the betterment of Indonesian Muslim youth, shaping their culture and identity. Students are taught punctuality, respect and the values that shape them into responsible citizens of their nation.

In the lively town of Sumedang, I stayed at a Pondok Modern Al-Aqsha for three weeks. My aim for visiting Pondok Modern Al-Aqsha was to conduct a study on the pesantren culture. The town has a mix of modern and traditional vibes. The friendly staff and the smell of freshly cooked sate quickly made me feel comfortable.

During my visit, I immersed myself in the student community while offering them the opportunity to interact with an English speaker. The goal was to encourage practical learning and daily conversations to improve their confidence in both English and even Arabic. Even though many students possessed the essential grammar abilities for effective English conversation, there appeared to be a widespread reluctance to speak in a foreign language.

I observed that those that tried were sometimes stigmatized as “nerds”, becoming targets of mocking and ridicule among students. 

Sitting down with the students for a simple and tasty meal of tahu Sumedang and other dishes which names I cannot recall, I started to understand the importance of kesederhanaan (simplicity/humility) in the Gontor philosophy, taught in most Islamic boarding schools in Indonesia.

My first day was filled with smiles and laughter, as my foreignness sparked curiosity and genuine enthusiasm. Soon, my name echoed through the corridors, not as a celebrity but as a guest embraced into their world. Witnessing their joy, I realized the role of pesantren in instilling religious values and creating a strong sense of community.

Language: A Medium for Unity

My sessions of teaching English provided a fascinating perspective to observe the intricate relationship between language, identity and unity within the pesantren. Witnessing the impressive fluency of some students revealed a complex interplay of social perceptions and personal aspirations.

Fluency in English serves as a potential marker of economic class, with some students looking down on or actively mocking it, while others passionately pursued it as a steppingstone to global citizenship. This pursuit was not merely about mastering grammar; it evolves into a journey of self-discovery, fostering confidence and bridging cultural divides.

For instance, one student, Aghnia, initially had trouble with pronunciation and her confident smile faded with each hesitant syllable. However, her unwavering determination to excel soon inspired others. As her accent softened and her vocabulary grew, the classroom echoed with cheers and supportive laughter. This shared journey, not only in mastering English but also in overcoming self-doubt and celebrating individual progress, went beyond social barriers, creating a strong sense of unity among the santris.

As an educator, I focused on preparing students for a TOEFL test. Their quick grasp of the subject and enthusiasm for learning were truly inspiring, reminding me of how young minds can be molded through exposure to new information and experiences.

This experience strengthened my understanding of the significant role one can play in shaping the potential of intelligent young individuals, providing them with the right support and opportunities to become global citizens. Teaching English and Arabic to the students at Pondok Modern Al-Aqsha was one of my most cherished activities. They impressed me with their diligence, dedication, and eagerness to learn. Together, we shared laughter and created meaningful connections.

Lessons Gained

Overall, the pesantren is more than just classrooms and prayer halls; it is a mix of routines that emphasized discipline and unity. The synchronized morning prayers, coordinated exercises, and focused study sessions were like a dance of cooperation and respect.

I was not just a spectator on the side; I joined in, playing with them on the futsal court, our laughter bridging cultural gaps. Later, over cups of tea, we explored the complexities of our worlds. Their English improved alongside my basic Indonesian, each shared word bringing more understanding.

Observing the students at the pesantren in their daily lives provided me with valuable insights. Their well-structured daily routines, encompassing study, prayer, exercise, social interactions, and rest reflected an organized and balanced lifestyle. They treated me as one of their own, displaying mutual respect and support. They also introduced me to the finest local attractions, including eateries, hot springs and futsal courts.

Beyond academics, the pesantren nurture a spirit of social responsibility, instilled through projects like community clean-ups and the likes. These practices were not mere lessons; they were part of daily life, where respect for nature flourished in sustainable gardening initiatives, and respect and understanding for difference blossomed during shared prayers and festive celebrations.

Witnessing students engage in these activities with such dedication left me convinced that pesantren is not just a school; it is a crucible where values like environmental consciousness, empathy, respect for one another, unwavering ethical principles, faith and academic knowledge are forged.

Conclusion

While pesantrens undoubtedly shape the minds of young Indonesians, they do so by celebrating their unique individualities and diverse backgrounds. Students hail from villages and cities, representing ethnicities and different faith orientations that form the mosaic of Indonesian society. Pondok Modern Al-Aqsha embraced this pluralism, fostering a sense of community where differences were not sources of division, but what strengthened their shared purpose.

Leaving Pondok Modern Al-Aqsha, I carried not just memories, but a profound understanding of the transformative power of these institutions. It is more than just imparting knowledge – it is about shaping citizens who embody the essence of Indonesia – polite, humble, respectful and driven by a deep wellspring of kindness. These are not qualities exclusive to Indonesia, but universal values that resonate across cultures. As I stepped back into my own world, I was driven by a renewed conviction: that building bridges of understanding, one shared experience at a time, is the true path towards a more harmonious and compassionate world.

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Introduction

Indonesia has recently seen an influx of foreign universities establishing branch campuses locally. Monash University was the first to enter in 2021, prompting others like King’s College London and Curtin University to do the same across a number of cities like Bandung, Denpasar and the soon-to-be Indonesian capital city of Nusantara in the coming years.

While only offering only a few postgraduate degrees currently, these institutions aspire to tap into the country’s young population by eventually establishing undergraduate programs.

The trend of internationalizing higher education has gone for quite some time particularly with the red carpet that is provided by Indonesia’s Omnibus law. Previously, foreign universities were allowed to establish their branches in Indonesia under the condition that it works in cooperation with Indonesian universities and prioritizing Indonesian lecturer and manpower. With the existence of the Omnibus law, foreign universities are no longer limited by accreditation and geographical requirements.

In a more specific context, these types of education – which consists of courses/programs where the student is located in another country different from the awarding institution – is termed transnational education. The global demand for transnational education has not only been academically motivated, but also includes reasons such as migration, political and economic security, employment, and even tourism.

While modes of transnational education may vary – such as partnerships, distance or virtual education, student exchanges – a particular form of “establishing branch campus” becomes a unique challenge for Indonesia.

Challenges

Despite the market driven spirit to promote multicultural, diverse and internationalized outlooks among students, the existence of foreign universities is still rife with challenges.

The most general concerns relate to the cultural and practical constraints.

The former is due to the lack of academic and intellectual cultures among the academics and students. The perspectives and theoretical approaches that are given by foreign academics undoubtedly brings novelty to the learning process of Indonesian students. However, these theories and experiences are often difficult to be translated into the context of Indonesia’s situation. There needs to be an effort to contextualize internationally-influenced study materials into the Indonesian context.

In terms of language, there is a risk of a paradoxical situation between English being used as the medium of instruction and it being a foreign language. This challenges students who do not use English as their first language but are being assessed by “native speaker” academics. This raises the question whether the use of English as a primary indicator is appropriate.

Additionally, the concern of the westernization of Indonesian culture, tradition and heritage is inseparable. This is due to the different academic and teaching norms that come from the instructor’s background. This concern correlates with the risk of the use of non-contextual curriculum, by which students are forced to learn from the lens of western-instructors.

Taking a broader view on the entire higher education landscape, there are also issues related to access and affordability which is an age-old problem not just in Indonesia but everywhere in the world. As seen in the case of the United Arab Emirates, which is the hub of foreign universities (especially American) today, a dual market may bring about problems related to the workforce. The mere existence of foreign universities – without added efforts to increase equality of access (in various forms) may – for one, result in a very divided job market and thus economic opportunities.

Remedies

In order to overcome these concerns, there are a few things that could be done to optimize the benefit of transnational education for Indonesia.

The first key success component is a relevant curriculum. It has become a mainstream understanding that education needs to be contextualized in order to create a seamless transition from school to the real world. However, the question then is how should this “contextualization” take form.

Incorporating cultural values and national language into the learning process are options that comes naturally to mind. While this is a convenient answer and a good starting point, things should not stop there. The entire curriculum should be constructed in a way that benefits both the students and larger populace by bridging supply and demand, with the society’s overall condition in mind.

Being relevant in a developing country like Indonesia, for instance, means prioritizing practicality over diversity of courses. Degrees in Jewish civilization or theatrical arts may not attract many (if any) students as compared to engineering or medical sciences, especially given the high tuition cost. By extension, high-in-demand programs should also ascertain that the content delivered is not too much ahead of the nation’s capability such that the knowledge gained may not be utilized –  a lesson the Indonesian government learned the hard way through its Endowment Fund (LPDP). A balance should be struck between promoting the advancement of theoretical science and ensuring that national economic and social interests are satisfied, at least in the short-term.

Second, the establishment of foreign universities in Indonesia should always support national public and economic interest. There is a need to enhance the integration of foreign universities in Indonesia with the educational policies and initiatives of local universities. This improvement should focus on increasing opportunities for both domestic students and lecturers to gain international exposure from foreign universities. This expansion should encompass not only student exchange programs and scholarships but also include lecturer exchanges, collaborative research initiatives, and fellowship programs for academics.

Finally, the entry of foreign institutions could and should be leveraged as a means of improving equity in educational accessibility. The first form of equity is that of geographical distribution. Despite having thousands of islands, Indonesia’s higher education suffers from the classical pitfall of Java-centrism, seen from the fact that all of the top 10 universities are located on the island. The government would play a crucial role in pushing new entrants to bring world-class education to more parts of the country by providing incentives and/or limiting campus establishment per city. Bearing in mind the relatively low number of tertiary education enrollment in the country, particularly in regional areas, further alignment of interest so as to balance the interests of these institutions with that of the country’s to make education accessible to as many people as possible instead of just those in the urban areas.

Inclusivity in terms of access across economic classes is also something that should be deeply considered and systematically addressed. Foreign universities are almost always associated with expensive fees. Tuition is largely unaffordable for most, even in opulent cities like Jakarta. That said, imposing set quotas for high-potential, underprivileged students would be instrumental in increasing intra-area inclusivity. With LPDP, the government could also engage in co-funding schemes with the universities directly. Doing so would also help ensure that bright, well-educated talents would tangibly contribute to the country.

Generally speaking, as a policy or its guiding principle, the government should be very cautious on where they should draw the lines between foreign and domestic universities. For example, differentiated treatments with regard to administration and financing should be formulated such that there is enough incentive for foreign institutions to support the aims of equitable opportunities for all Indonesian citizens, but not excessive that it becomes predatory to its own public and private institutions that have long contributed to the nation’s development.

Depending on the lens used, the existence of universities from abroad can be both a challenge and an opportunity. On the one hand, there are problems that our own institutions have not been able to address, but on the other, these institutions can help alleviate the burden by bringing best practices and facilities to more people nationwide. The government now stands amid the situation as the deciding factor and architect.

Introduction

Malaysia’s new unity government under the leadership of Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim of Pakatan Harapan (PH) sparked calls for reform in the country’s education system. With the appointment of Mohamed Khaled Nordin as Minister of Higher Education (his second stint in the job), it is expected strides will be made particularly through a revisiting of reform proposals of former Education Minister Maszlee Malik.

Malaysia’s education roadmap, entitled “The Way Forward for Private Higher Education: Education as an Industry (2020-2025)”, outlines changes to the private higher educational institutions (PHEIs) landscape, among others. These changes are based on the government’s acknowledgement that there is a public-private divide between higher educational institutions. Notably, the public higher educational institutions (HEIs) and PHEIs are regulated by different authorities, hence distinct functions are given to the operation of the respective sectors (public or private). For context, HEIs are considered as statutory bodies whereas PHEIs are considered as an emanation of a registered company. This is despite both providing the same services (i.e., tertiary education).

Innovation of the Co-Partnership Model

Historically, the role of PHEIs as an education provider began in the 1970s in which private colleges are offering diploma courses. In the 1990s, there was a boom in private universities and colleges due to the enactment of the Private Higher Educational Institutions Act (Act 555), aimed at facilitating educational reform and competitiveness of graduates. At the time, the goal was to achieve a 40% participation rate in tertiary education and 25% for postgraduate education by 2010. HEIs alone could not account for this projected increase and the number of PHEIs have soared since then thus making the private sector a focal point for tertiary education.

The presence of private education sector in Malaysia is validated by the logic of the 1980s, which sees PHEIs as a solution to ease HEI’s burdens of student surplus and lack of resources. However, this should no longer be the case. Instead, PHEIs’ role should be elevated a credible, viable option for tertiary education (i.e., not as a last resort).  

Demonstrating this is the roughly similar student population in both PHEI and HEI. Currently, there are approximately 20 public universities in Malaysia. Conversely, there are 53 private universities, 38 private university colleges and 10 branch campuses of foreign universities. Furthermore, there are 349 college-level PHEIs. Despite the vast differences, a total of 666,167 students (51%) are studying in more than 400 PHEIs while the remaining 659,082 students are scattered in 20 HEIs and their own branches.

The large student population in PHEIs, thus, signify a need to foster a co-partnership model between the public and the private education sectors. This is reinforced by an increasing student market and prospective students’ attraction towards the prospects of studying abroad. Fostering a co-partnership model begins with refining Malaysia’s education policies.

An important reform can be undertaken by harmonizing the University and University Colleges Act (UUCA) which regulates HEIs and Act 555. The latter caters for the administration of private universities, university colleges and colleges.

When PH first came to power in 2018, the harmonization of the higher education regime was reviewed closely by the government with the intention to reform. Back then, a co-partnership model was the goal: the Education Ministry acknowledged that HEIs can be complemented by PHEIs to make Malaysia a regional education hub. To achieve this, the previous PH government proposed the abolishment of the UUCA as well as other higher education legislations. In their places instead, there would have been a more comprehensive framework granting autonomy to higher education institutes, academic freedom as well as freedom of speech and association.

This reform brought some successes despite PH government’s short tenure. For example, there was the establishment of a law faculty in the University of Reading Malaysia, Johor Bahru. Furthermore, there was also an agreement between the Malaysian and Japanese governments to establish a Japanese university branch in Malaysia.  The formation of foreign university branches empowers Malaysia to obtain research and development (R&D) opportunities, which are not readily available in Malaysia, and an international education system.

Reform came to an abrupt end upon the inception of the Perikatan Nasional (PN) government. Consequently, PHEIs’ status was relegated to that prior to PH government.

A Consistent Regime for Higher Education in Malaysia

There is now an opening to restart educational reform in Malaysia, considering the new unity government is led by reform-minded Anwar. While working towards a co-partnership model, the current government must also ensure the independence of Malaysia’s education institutions, free from any external meddling. A reform of the governance system in higher education, guided by the principles of autonomy and accountability, is necessary to achieve this.

Towards this, as proposed by the previous PH administration, a National Higher Education Act would redefine the paradigm underlying the HEIs and PHEIs. Although HEIs are considered to be given autonomous status in 2018, one can argue that there is no true autonomy given that top positions in these universities, such as rectors or vice-chancellors, are usually political appointments, which means there would still be indirect interference from the government. In contrast, vice-chancellors in PHEIs are usually a member of the Board of Directors (BOD) of the parent company.

Similarly, despite what Act 555 provides for the constitution of a PHEI, it is not a body capable of acting on its own, with powers on its own. In PHEIs, there is a lack of separation of power between academic governance and corporate governance as the Board of Governance (BOG), under the constitution, is essentially managed by the BOD of the company. Since the institution exists under the aegis of the company, one must look to the locus of control in the company to carry out the activities of the PHEIs. This means the BOD.

The regulation of HEIs and PHEIs under the proposed National Higher Education Act would ensure that these institutions can operate autonomously under the governance of another independent body, the National Council on Higher Education (NCHE).

Independent Governance Through the National Council on Higher Education

The NCHE should be drawn from a spectrum of members from the government and local academic community and external experts – vice-chancellor or its equivalent shall not be members of the governing body. The NCHE will be the main policy-coordinating and regulating body in the higher education sector. Thus, functions such as national policies and strategic directions for the development of higher education, as well as allocation of funds to higher education institutions, will be under the revamped NCHE’s purview.

The endgame is to create a body which is independent of government agenda and serves as an institution to ensure that academic quality is preserved and growth is maintained to future-proof students for the more competitive working world.

The independence of the NCHE will come from its statutory status mandated by an Act of Parliament. While it derives its funding from the government, there must be political will to ensure that checks and balances are in place to elevate the NCHE as a single policymaking body for higher education in Malaysia. These counterbalancing measures are the inclusion of academics and policymakers as members, which would provide more representation to ensure that the government agenda is more in touch with reality. However, the inclusion of government members is still important as it also allows a two-way channel between the NCHE and the Ministry of Higher Education.

As the new administration begins its work, there are calls from academicians and civil society groups to restore the NCHE. However, the NCHE does seem like a distant goal as there is no plan currently to reintroduce it back to the higher education system. It is highly unlikely that we will see the NCHE as part of the Ministry of Higher Education’s direction which will be unveiled soon.

Notably, these reforms – of which the NCHE is one of them – which were highlighted by former Education Minister Maszlee Malik might not be picked up by the incumbent Minister of Higher Education. There is considerable animosity between them during recent exchanges and from recent press conferences it seems that the latter is looking more at bread-and-butter issues such as student financing, cost of tuition fees and graduate employability rather than a reformist agenda.

Picking up Where We Left Off

The literature on the proposal to form a co-partnership model – which includes harmonization of regimes as well as the formation of the NCHE – to address the issue of governance of the tertiary education sector is not new. Malaysia’s political crisis in the past few years, and the multiple governments that came and went, meant that reforms were put on the backburner as governments of the day were too preoccupied with maintaining power. Nevertheless, it is with great hope that today’s PH-led administration, along with the centrist Barisan Nasional (BN) and Gabungan Parti Sarawak (GPS), components of the unity government, to wisely use its newfound strength in numbers to level up Malaysia’s credibility as an excellent provider of academic services.