For decades, Indian universities have struggled with a crisis far deeper than infrastructure shortage or funding gaps. The real crisis, perhaps, is more fundamental: the complete failure to understand what a university is actually meant to do. Take, for instance, the latest proposal from Uttar Pradesh to introduce uniforms in colleges and universities. What better example can there be that exposes this confusion with remarkable clarity. The policy, pushed by Governor and Chancellor Anandiben Patel in the name of “discipline” and “uniformity,” may appear harmless at first glance. Supporters will likely argue that uniforms reduce visible inequality, encourage seriousness, and create a better academic atmosphere. But beneath this seemingly administrative decision lies a profoundly troubling question: What exactly do we think higher education is for? If universities begin to function like schools, they will only produce compliant subjects and not citizens. And what a tragedy that would be.What makes it so difficult for our political class to understand the distinction between schools and universities? Surely, they are not interchangeable institutions. Schools are spaces where children are introduced to structure, supervision, and foundational discipline. Society accepts this because children are still developing intellectually and emotionally. A school uniform, in that context, is often justified as part of a collective learning environment. A university, however, is supposed to represent something entirely different. It is the space where an individual transitions into adulthood. Higher education is not merely about acquiring degrees or employable skills. Its larger purpose is to cultivate independent thinking, intellectual confidence, ethical judgment, and the capacity to question authority itself.A student checks documents before casting her vote during the Patna University Students’ Union (PUSU) elections, at Patna Women’s College, in Patna on February 28, 2026. Photo: PTI.The great German philosopher Wilhelm von Humboldt, whose ideas shaped the modern university system, argued that universities must nurture the free development of the individual through unrestricted inquiry. Knowledge, in his view, could flourish only where minds were free, not managed into sameness. Sadly, that principle is increasingly disappearing from Indian higher education.Today’s universities are slowly becoming extensions of bureaucratic governance rather than centres of intellectual freedom. Attendance is monitored through biometric systems. Hostel curfews treat adults like schoolchildren. Student protests are viewed as disruptions rather than democratic engagement. Moral policing has become normalised on campuses across the country. And now, even clothing is becoming a matter of institutional control. Seen in isolation, a uniform policy may seem minor. But viewed within this broader pattern, it reflects something much larger: the growing discomfort of institutions with individuality itself.Look at the language or the vocabulary used to justify the move. It is quite revealing. “One campus, one identity.” “Discipline.” “Uniformity.” These words sound administratively efficient, of course, but intellectually they are deeply unsettling. Universities are not meant to have one identity. Their very strength lies in accommodating many identities, ideas, beliefs, and forms of self-expression. A democratic campus is not supposed to look uniform. It is supposed to look alive. The assumption behind such policies is that visible sameness produces equality and discipline. But does it really? Sociologists have long argued otherwise. French thinker Pierre Bourdieu demonstrated that inequality survives through what he called “cultural capital” – language, confidence, social networks, upbringing, and access to opportunity.Also read: The Crisis of Courage in India’s Liberal UniversitiesStudents do not suddenly become equal because they wear identical shirts. Economic differences persist through phones, accents, internships, travel opportunities, and social exposure. Uniforms often create only the performance of equality while leaving structural inequalities untouched.This is what makes the policy intellectually shallow. At a time when Indian higher education is plagued by serious problems such as collapsing research ecosystems, faculty shortages, poor public funding, unemployable graduates, political interference, and declining academic freedom, regulating student clothing is not a reform. It is control masquerading as educational improvement. More importantly, such policies misunderstand the relationship between discipline and learning. True intellectual discipline does not emerge from external control. It emerges from curiosity, responsibility, and self-awareness. A student who attends class because they value learning is fundamentally different from one who obeys rules out of fear or compulsion. Universities are meant to nurture the former, not manufacture the latter. This is precisely what Pedagogy of the Oppressed warned against. Freire criticised educational systems that treated students as passive recipients of authority rather than active participants in knowledge creation. He called it the “banking model” of education – a system where obedience is rewarded more than questioning. Education, he argued, should liberate human beings into critical consciousness, not condition them into silent conformity. A similar warning came from Deschooling Society. Ivan Illich argued that modern educational institutions often confuse conformity with learning and discipline with education. The danger begins when institutions become more concerned with producing socially manageable individuals than intellectually independent ones. Uniforms in universities symbolise precisely this shift, from intellectual formation to behavioural standardisation.That warning is particularly relevant today. Actually, the danger is not merely that students may be asked to wear uniforms. The real danger is the philosophy underlying the demand: the belief that good students are obedient students, that order is superior to freedom, and that visible conformity reflects educational seriousness. But history tells us otherwise. Almost every globally respected university culture thrives on intellectual individuality. From student politics to artistic expression, from debate to dissent, universities have historically been spaces where young adults experiment with ideas and identities. This process is often messy, argumentative, and uncomfortable. But democracy itself is messy and uncomfortable. The purpose of higher education is not to eliminate that friction but to teach students how to navigate it responsibly. A campus full of identical clothing may look orderly. But, remember, intellectual vitality rarely emerges from excessive order. That’s why Illich warned that when educational institutions become excessively preoccupied with regulation, surveillance, and administrative order, they gradually lose sight of their human purpose. A university then ceases to be a community of inquiry and becomes an administrative machine. Also read: When Universities Become Sites of Silent RepressionThere is also something profoundly paternalistic about the Indian state’s growing approach to young adults. Students old enough to vote, marry, work, use social media, and shape public opinion are increasingly treated as if they cannot be trusted to manage their own lives. Universities that cannot trust students to choose their clothes are unlikely to trust them to think independently either. Actually, this infantilisation of higher education should worry us. Because the future of a democracy depends not on how disciplined its citizens appear, but on how independently they can think. The irony is that India constantly speaks of producing innovators, entrepreneurs, researchers, and global leaders. But we forget that innovation requires individuality. Research requires questioning established ideas. Leadership requires intellectual confidence. None of these qualities grows naturally within cultures obsessed with conformity. Uniformity may make administration easier. It does not make education deeper.The question, then, is larger than dress codes in Uttar Pradesh. It is about the kind of society India wishes to become. Does the country want universities that produce intellectually autonomous adults capable of disagreement and democratic participation? Or does it want institutions that reward compliance, sameness, and unquestioning obedience? That is the real debate hidden beneath this policy. And it leads to one uncomfortable but necessary question: if universities cannot trust adults to choose their own clothes, how can they trust them to choose governments, shape public opinion, conduct research, or participate meaningfully in democracy?John J. Kennedy – educator, columnist and political analyst – is based in Bengaluru.