The foremost barricade is the obsession with theorisation. There is a growing, frantic tendency among scholars to seek a theoretical footing for every set of data, no matter how minute or observational; the fetish of theorisation. In this “half-baked” rush to categorise reality, they often land on propositions that appear sophisticated but are philosophically hollow. These are classic examples of hasty and incorrect conclusions — intellectual house-of-cards built on the shaky ground of “theory for theory’s sake”. When the observation is sacrificed at the altar of a complex framework, the truth is not revealed; it is obscured.
Perhaps the most deliberate barrier is the use of unfathomable vocabulary, a lexical arrogance and shield of jargon. There is a persistent, almost pathological habit among the academic fraternity to use language that renders their propositions inaccessible to the uninitiated. This is not a failure of communication; it is a deliberate strategy. By utilising “fathomless” prose, they attempt to command respect through confusion. They defy the well-accepted reality that genius is found in simplicity. If a concept cannot be explained clearly, it is often because the scholar does not understand it well enough, or because there is nothing of substance behind the curtain. In conferences, this reaches a fever pitch. Scholars are now more interested in networking than dissemination, reading out dense papers like ritual rather than explaining them, and providing convoluted responses to avoid taking clear-cut positions.
Beyond the text, the barrier becomes physical. Modern academia has birthed a stifling “appointment culture”. While the efficient management of time is a professional necessity, the overarching emphasis on formal scheduling is rarely about productivity, instead, it serves as a demonstration of power. By remaining out of easy reach, the scholar signals their “elevated” status. This manufactured scarcity of time is a calculated move to ensure that the seeker understands their place at the bottom of the hierarchy; a mere power play. It is a performance of importance that kills the spontaneity of intellectual spark. Furthermore, the knowledge differential between the teacher and the student is often expressed through sarcasm by the former – a weapon used to belittle rather than a tool used to build.
In the wake of the ban on student unions in 1984, a profound structural imbalance emerged within the academic hierarchy. Dissent is replaced by a culture of sycophancy, where students learn early that a teacher’s ego is paramount. Here, flattery secures a future, but intellectual honesty earns an exile. This kills the modus operandi of knowledge refinement. Without the friction of honest criticism knowledge, thus, stagnates.
The era of the humble polymath is being buried under the weight of its own ego. We are witnessing the extinction of the “Giant” — the scholar who did not need a high pedestal because their intellect was tall enough to reach the clouds while their feet remained firmly planted in the dust of the streets. I am a beneficiary of the rarified wisdom of three such giants: Professor Karrar Husain, Dr Manzoor Ahmed, and the living legendry urban planner Mr Arif Hasan. These are men who do not hide behind the jargon, speak with the terrifying clarity, never subscribed to theoreticist overreach, and know that the seeker’s question is more urgent than the scholar’s schedule.
The Ivory Tower is a silo and suffocating. If we do not return to the simple humility of the giants who preceded us, then academia will continue to be a theater of the absurd, performing to an empty house. Knowledge must be a bridge, or it is nothing at all. The tenure of the self-serving ego must end; the mandate for humble, accessible scholarship must begin now.