Speaking Up in an “Institute of Eminence”: A PhD Scholar’s Personal Account of Power, Silence, and Academic Exploitation

Universities are supposed to be places where truth can be spoken without fear. They claim to nurture critical thinking, intellectual freedom, and ethical responsibility. When an institution is granted the prestigious label of an Institute of Eminence, the expectation is even higher: that it represents the best values of academia.

My experience as a PhD scholar within such an institution forced me to confront a painful contradiction between those ideals and the reality I encountered.

This blog is not written out of bitterness alone. It is written because silence protects systems that harm the very people who keep them running.

Witnessing the Treatment of the Most Vulnerable

One of the earliest incidents that disturbed me deeply involved retired housekeeping staff. These were individuals who had spent years serving the institution quietly and faithfully.

What I witnessed during certain interactions involving them left me uncomfortable and troubled. The tone and manner in which they were treated appeared humiliating and dismissive. For people who had already given years of service, the lack of dignity in those moments was difficult to ignore.

I raised concerns about what I had observed. I believed that a university should be a place where such concerns are heard and addressed.

Instead, what followed made me question how much space actually exists for ethical dissent inside powerful institutions.

When Speaking Up Comes With Consequences

Around the same period in which I spoke about these issues, my 3.5 months of Research Scholarship was suspended.

To any PhD scholar, the implications of losing scholarship support are enormous. Research scholars depend on these funds not just for academic work but for basic survival.

Although official explanations were not fully clear to me, the timing made it difficult for me not to feel that raising uncomfortable questions had come at a cost.

For many scholars, this kind of situation creates an invisible pressure: remain silent, or risk your livelihood.

Pressure, Isolation, and a Disturbing Experience

The events that followed were among the most difficult experiences of my academic life.

I began to feel increasing pressure to withdraw my concerns and stop speaking about what I had witnessed. Conversations with authorities felt less like dialogue and more like attempts to discourage further discussion.

Eventually, I was admitted to the psychiatric ward at Kasturba Medical College after concerns were raised about my mental health. I was told that I might be experiencing symptoms associated with schizophrenia.

Regardless of the explanations provided, the experience was deeply unsettling. During my stay, my phone was taken away, limiting my ability to communicate with others or document what was happening.

For any researcher, being placed in a situation where their voice, credibility, and communication are restricted is profoundly disempowering.

It forced me to confront a disturbing possibility: that in some institutional contexts, raising uncomfortable truths can quickly be reframed as instability rather than dissent.

The Hidden Labour of PhD Scholars

Beyond my personal experience, I also began to notice a broader pattern affecting many doctoral researchers.

PhD scholars are often expected to perform a wide range of institutional tasks that go far beyond their research responsibilities.

These tasks can include:

• teaching classes
• invigilating examinations
• evaluating answer sheets
• organizing events
• handling administrative and clerical work

While contributing to the academic environment is part of scholarly life, the scale of this labour sometimes appears disproportionate to the recognition or support provided.

In many cases, the work assigned has little direct connection to the scholar’s research.

The result is a generation of doctoral researchers who spend years doing institutional labour while their own academic progress slows down.

The Convenient Identity of the PhD Scholar

Perhaps the most confusing part of this experience was how the institutional identity of PhD scholars seemed to shift depending on convenience.

When teaching or examination duties were required, scholars were treated as part of the teaching workforce.

When institutional retreats or certain official events occurred, the same scholars were classified as students and excluded.

When there was a shortage of manpower for events, scholars were suddenly treated like staff members.

Yet when scholars raised concerns about unfair practices, they were quickly reminded that they were “students” who should behave accordingly.

This shifting identity creates a strange institutional reality in which PhD scholars exist in a permanent grey zone: neither fully students nor recognized employees, but expected to fulfill the obligations of both.

A Colonial Culture of Academic Hierarchy

What disturbed me most about these experiences was the mindset that seemed to underpin them.

The institutional culture often felt less like a modern academic community and more like a rigid hierarchy reminiscent of colonial administrative structures.

In such environments:

• authority flows strictly downward
• questioning power is interpreted as disobedience
• vulnerable individuals are expected to remain silent

Public humiliation, dismissive behaviour, and the erosion of dignity become tools of control rather than exceptions.

For young scholars trying to build their academic careers, such environments can be devastating.

They do not just damage professional prospects—they erode confidence, self-respect, and faith in academia itself.

The Broader Consequence: A Lost Generation of Scholars

India produces thousands of talented PhD scholars every year. Many of them enter academia with passion and hope.

Yet many leave with something very different: exhaustion, disillusionment, and uncertainty.

When institutions rely heavily on the labour of PhD scholars while limiting long-term opportunities for them, the result is not only personal hardship but also a systemic loss for the country.

Talented researchers in their thirties often find themselves stuck between temporary roles, delayed careers, and diminishing academic prospects.

This is not just an institutional problem. It is a national intellectual loss.

Why I Am Speaking Now

For a long time, I considered remaining silent.

Silence is often the safest option within powerful institutions. Speaking openly can invite scrutiny, criticism, and personal risk.

But silence also protects systems that may continue to harm others long after individual experiences are forgotten.

This blog is simply an attempt to place one personal experience on record.

Not as the final word, but as an invitation for others—scholars, staff, and administrators alike—to reflect on how power operates within our universities, and whether the institutions that claim to represent excellence are truly living up to that promise.