The illusion of choice in Education

We often say that students today have unlimited choice. More boards. More subjects. More colleges. More global exposure. On the surface, education looks flexible and open. On the ground, it has become quietly uniform. Today, most students are not choosing what they want to learn. They are choosing what will get them selected.

In urban India, profiles now begin early. Olympiads, leadership roles, NGOs, competitions, social impact projects, and international programmes. By the time students reach Class 10, many look like young professionals managing a portfolio. The work is real. The pressure is real. The sameness beneath it is easy to miss. This is the shadow curriculum. It is not written in any syllabus. No school officially teaches it. Yet everyone knows the rules. They must look driven in familiar ways. They must show leadership in approved formats. They must appear well-rounded through pre-accepted categories. Slowly, genuine interest gives way to performance.

Rewarding uniformity

Sir Ken Robinson spent decades warning us that modern education systems reward uniformity more than individuality. He believed schools do not lack talent. They often fail to recognise it when it looks different. His fear was never that students were incapable but that their real abilities would go unnoticed because they did not fit neatly into narrow academic ladders.

India is now living that concern at scale. Students who enjoy history grow nervous because it feels impractical. Students drawn to design are told to keep it as a hobby. Students who think best through movement, sound, or space quietly step aside for those who fit the familiar academic mould. The range of visible aspiration narrows while the language of choice grows louder.

When we tell students they can be anything and then reward only a few things, the result is visible inside campuses. Many students arrive after years of disciplined effort and flawless profiles. Once admission excitement fades, something else sets in. Fatigue. Detachment. A quiet confusion about whether they are even in the right place. They did not fail. They succeeded too efficiently at someone else’s idea of success. This is not a problem of motivation. It is a problem of alignment.

Across history, education has served two enduring purposes. It builds the ability to think. It builds the ability to solve problems. Calculation supports both. Everything else is a tool to strengthen these abilities. When education shifts from building thinking to building signals, its centre weakens. India does not lack intelligent students. It lacks space for uneven genius.

Some students think best with numbers. Some through people. Some through systems. Some through creation. Some through story. A healthy education system notices these differences early and builds confidence in them. A fragile one quietly trains students to hide them.

Admissions systems did not create this pressure alone. Parents, schools, coaching centres, certification industries, and social media have all reinforced it. What began as an attempt to move beyond marks has become another form of standardisation. It looks modern. It behaves the same. The illusion of choice hides a deeper sameness.

If this continues, the long-term cost will not only be student dissatisfaction. It will be national. Societies do not advance through replication. They advance through original problem solving, moral courage, and diverse ways of thinking. These cannot grow inside narrow definitions of merit. We must become honest about what education is truly for.

Real test

The real test is not how impressive a student looks at 18. The test is how clearly they can think at 25. How firmly they can adapt at 35. How responsibly they can solve problems they have never seen before. Those abilities do not grow from checklists. They grow from deep thinking, lived experience, failure, and the confidence to stand apart without fear.

True education widens futures. It does not quietly narrow them. If we want students who build strong institutions, ethical companies, and stable societies, we must allow them to grow into who they truly are, not who the system finds easiest to measure. Choice should feel uncertain. That discomfort is the price of freedom. When choice feels safe only inside one narrow corridor, it has already stopped being real.

The writer is the Managing Director and co-founder of the Indian School of Hospitality (ISH)