The PhD Factory: How Universities Manufacture Free Labour in the Name of Research

There is a quiet miracle happening inside Indian universities. It is not research. It is not innovation. It is certainly not academic freedom.

The miracle is this: universities have discovered a way to run entire institutions on the cheapest labour imaginable—PhD scholars.

For decades, universities claimed that doctoral education existed to produce knowledge, nurture scholars, and advance intellectual life. But somewhere along the way, the system quietly reinvented itself. The PhD scholar is no longer primarily a researcher. They are now a multi-purpose institutional appliance.

They teach.
They invigilate exams.
They organise conferences.
They design posters.
They manage department events.
They perform administrative tasks.
They coordinate guests.
They sometimes even do the work that permanent staff are supposed to do.

All for free.

Technically, of course, it is not “free.” A small scholarship is provided—an amount that resembles a stipend but behaves more like institutional pocket money. In return, scholars are expected to sign contracts promising full-time dedication to their research. The phrase “full-time” has a fascinating interpretation in universities. It means the scholar must quit their job, give up financial independence, and commit themselves entirely to academia.

But it does not mean they are allowed to actually do research full-time.

Instead, the scholar becomes a full-time employee without employee status.

Expanding Access: The First Beautiful Illusion

In her critique of neo-liberal education, Dhanwanti Nayak (2014) explained how institutions deploy the language of democracy—access, choice, equity—while quietly altering their meaning.

The expansion of PhD intake is a perfect example.

Universities proudly announce that they are increasing doctoral seats. The narrative sounds noble: more opportunities, more scholars, more knowledge production. It appears to fulfil the democratic ideal of access.

But the expansion of intake has an interesting side effect.

If a department admits twenty PhD scholars instead of five, it suddenly has twenty people who can:

  • teach undergraduate tutorials,
  • conduct practical sessions,
  • invigilate exams,
  • manage conferences,
  • assist with departmental administration.

All without salary.

Hiring permanent faculty would require salaries, benefits, and accountability. PhD scholars, on the other hand, come with temporary contracts and built-in obedience mechanisms.

Thus the language of access quietly becomes access to unpaid labour.

Exactly the kind of linguistic substitution Nayak (2014) warned about.

Full-Time Research, Part-Time Everything Else

The official policy states that a PhD is a full-time research programme.

In practice, it is more like twelve-hour institutional service with occasional research squeezed between deadlines.

A scholar may be scheduled to:

  • teach multiple classes,
  • prepare lecture material,
  • evaluate assignments,
  • supervise projects,
  • organise departmental events,
  • attend administrative meetings,
  • invigilate examinations for hours.

All of this happens while they are politely reminded that research progress is slow.

Slow research progress, of course, becomes another reason to increase pressure.

“Work harder.”
“Be more disciplined.”
“Manage your time better.”

It is a fascinating system: the institution delays your research and then blames you for the delay.

Choice, But Only the Kind That Obeys

Nayak’s (2014) second concept concerns the false logic of choice.

Private institutions claim students enjoy greater choice. But the structure of education—loans, job markets, financial pressure—actually limits real freedom.

PhD scholars experience a similar illusion.

Technically, scholars are free to express opinions. Universities proudly describe themselves as spaces of intellectual debate.

But there are certain choices that come with consequences.

If a scholar questions exploitation, they may suddenly receive an email stating that they have “behaved in a manner unbecoming of a student.”

The punishment can include:

  • suspension of scholarship,
  • disciplinary proceedings,
  • delayed approvals,
  • administrative harassment.

In other words, scholars possess the freedom to speak, but not the freedom to survive the consequences.

The democratic language remains intact. The freedom quietly disappears.

The Emotional Economy of Academic Jealousy

Universities are often romanticised as communities of intellectual collaboration. The reality can resemble something closer to a bureaucratic survival arena.

Departments contain hierarchies, rivalries, and personal politics. Scholars quickly learn that research progress depends not only on intellectual ability but also on navigating ego, jealousy, and internal alliances.

Overwork becomes a tool of discipline.

Scholars who appear too independent may be given more responsibilities.
Scholars who ask questions may be given more classes.
Scholars who resist may suddenly discover that their research approvals are delayed indefinitely.

The message becomes clear: conformity is the most efficient research methodology.

Mental Health Support, With Conditions

Universities increasingly advertise mental health support for students. This is admirable.

However, there is often a delicate clause attached to this compassion: the names of people responsible for harassment cannot be formally disclosed.

This creates a fascinating therapeutic model.

You are encouraged to speak about your pain.
You are discouraged from identifying its source.

It is similar to treating smoke inhalation while politely ignoring the burning building.

The Career Trap

After several years of research, teaching, and institutional service, the scholar finally completes the PhD.

This is the moment when the system reveals its final irony.

There are very few faculty positions.

Departments continue to function with large numbers of temporary scholars while senior faculty—sometimes well past retirement age—remain in their positions. Hiring decisions frequently depend on recommendations, networks, and institutional politics.

The newly minted PhD then turns to industry.

There they encounter another problem.

The corporate world does not necessarily value university teaching experience. The scholar must compete with professionals ten years younger, who spent those years gaining industry experience while the doctoral student was organising conferences and invigilating exams.

The result is a strange career paradox:

  • Too old to start fresh in industry.
  • Too politically vulnerable to secure academic employment.

The Disposable Scholar

Meanwhile, the university continues to admit new PhD students every year.

The previous batch graduates.
A new batch arrives.

The cycle continues.

Scholars, it turns out, are renewable institutional resources.

The Final Irony

Dhanwanti Nayak (2014) warned that the neo-liberal logic of education transforms learning into something resembling a private good managed through institutional rhetoric.

The doctoral system demonstrates this logic perfectly.

Universities speak the language of:

  • academic freedom,
  • intellectual growth,
  • democratic participation.

Yet the everyday structure of doctoral life often produces:

  • exhaustion,
  • insecurity,
  • silence,
  • delayed futures.

It is a system that depends on scholars’ hope even as it quietly consumes their time, confidence, and career momentum.

And the most impressive part of the arrangement is that it continues to function because scholars cannot easily rebel. Academic employment depends heavily on recommendations and networks. Criticising the system may close the very doors one hopes to enter.

Thus the scholar learns the final lesson of higher education:

Sometimes the most sophisticated form of discipline is not force.

It is hope combined with uncertainty.

And somewhere in the background, the analysis of Dhanwanti Nayak (2014) continues to echo—reminding us that institutions often speak the language of democracy while quietly rewriting its meaning.


Reference:
Dhanwanti Nayak. (2014). Understanding the logic of neo-liberalism in education. Economic and Political Weekly, 49(13), 11–13.

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