he tussle between the Higher Education Commission and the Tenure Track System faculty is no breaking news. However, its intensity has increased rapidly in recent months.

The TTS, which was initially a beacon of hope for academic advancement, has devolved into a swamp of desolation, drowning the spirits of many university teachers in murky depths. The mechanism that was intended to be a catalyst for academic excellence has become a playground for power politics, with the HEC and university administrations playing puppeteers. The once revered institutions have turned into gladiatorial arenas, the esteemed TTS faculty into unwilling gladiators.

The HEC policies have been a litany of misfires. There is a glaring absence of consistent pay revisions and much mismanagement. The toll of these issues can be witnessed in the dispirited cries of the TTS faculty, standing in protest demonstrations, their complaints falling on deaf ears. Demands like salary increments on par with other government employees, improved pension policies and restoration of suspended salaries have gone unanswered by the HEC.

A case in point is the demonstration staged by TTS faculty members from public sector universities in front of the HEC Secretariat in Islamabad. Their demands, which included a 50 percent salary increase and parity with government employees, were met with a lukewarm response. HEC officials promised to address the issues but quickly resumed their lackadaisical approach. The question is: is the HEC genuinely interested in resolving faculty grievances?

It’s crucial to highlight a major anomaly — the modification of promotion criteria under TTS statutes v3. These revisions have provoked widespread discontent among the TTS community. Eight years of experience is now required for an associate professorship and 13 years for a professorship. The new rules appear to have been meant to ensure that most teachers remain assistant professors even after 22 years of service. This is in stark contrast with their counterparts in civil service with similar qualifications and experience.

Such stipulations smack of a tyranny serving only to stifle the faculty rather than promote excellence. The arbitrary rules are reminiscent of the proverbial walls collapsing around the faculty, burying them under a pile of unattainable criteria. To make matters worse, the v3.0 promotion criteria also require faculty to secure a whopping Rs 3 million in funding — a prospect increasingly challenging in the current climate.

These policies amount to imposing an “intellectual embargo” on the TTS faculty. By raising quantitative bars excessively high and neglecting the importance of qualitative evaluation, the HEC has effectively devalued the profound contributions of seasoned academicians. Imagine the absurdity of renowned Nobel laureates in economics, with fewer than ten publications, being ineligible for associate professorship under the new HEC criteria. This is not a mere local anomaly; it’s an international embarrassment.

Consequently, the faculty members find themselves caught in a “cerebral snare.“ They have to constantly struggle to meet an ever-changing set of rules. The unfortunate truth is that when the rules of the game keep changing, the players lose motivation to play.

The HEC’s latest policy revision is a classic bait-and-switch tactic, where the promotion criteria have been made harder, but the incentives and pays have remained stagnant. The absurdity has left many TTS faculty members shell-shocked. Imagine toiling for longer than two decades only to realise that you cannot be promoted beyond an assistant professorship. It’s akin to running a race with the finish line constantly receding into the distance.

Our academics are buried under the “HEC’s Harappa”, named after the fabled city that once thrived, only to meet a mysterious and abrupt end. The metaphor paints a vivid picture of our present predicament, where the weight of vague policies, ambiguous promotion criteria and the mounting pressure of achieving unattainable benchmarks is crushing the morale of our educators.

However, it’s not all doom and gloom. Let’s switch gears and look at the other side of the coin. The HEC may argue that these revisions are essential to foster competitiveness, to ensure that only the best rise through the ranks. However, when did competitiveness become synonymous with unattainability?

To this question, some may respond with a stoic acceptance of the status quo. There are those who have adapted to the changing tides and managed to find their footing amid the shifting sands. Indeed, some might argue that obtaining research grants and fulfilling quantitative publication requirements are the hallmarks of a successful academic. But should we really celebrate this survival-of-the-most-adaptable approach? Is it ethical to drive our educators to a point where they are forced to resort to questionable means to fulfil these arduous criteria? The honest answer is a resounding ‘No’. The nobility of our educators’ mission to impart knowledge should not be marred by the specter of questionable academic practices.

Why not implement a point-based quantitative measure to evaluate the performance of TTS faculty? The objective nature of such a measure will eliminate the ambiguity plaguing the current criteria. It will ensure fairness and offer a clearer path towards career progression.

The plight of TTS faculty members isn’t merely a tale of a little injustice here and there. It’s a crisis that threatens the very foundation of our educational framework. The need for a comprehensive policy overhaul can’t be overstated. In the words of philosopher Bertrand Russell, “Change is one thing, progress is another.” It’s time the HEC stops mistaking the former for the latter. The HEC must come up with a system that respects and rewards our educators, not victimises them. The TTS faculty must unite and demand fair treatment.

The writer holds a PhD in sociology of knowledge from the University of Paris-Saclay, France. He is an associate professor at the School of Sociology, Quaid-i-Azam University in Islamabad. He can be reached at isabir@qau.edu.pk