Digital Education News | Expert Analysis and Commentary - Edinbox Editorial

There’s a popular adage - “Fast, cheap, good—pick two.” Pursue all three, and you risk collapse. Now, transpose that logic to the Indian development model, and a similarly impossible triangle emerges—except this one decides the future of half the population.

In India’s case, the three corners are female labour force participation (FLFP), care infrastructure, and demographic stability. Strengthen one, and the other two teeter. Ignore one, and the whole structure falters. It’s not just a policy dilemma—it’s macroeconomics cracking under a gendered fault line.

The Numbers Show Growth. The Reality Reveals Strain.

The spike from 23.3%female labour force participation in 2017–18 to 41.7% in 2023–24 deserves scrutiny, not celebration. Much of the increase comes from rural India, driven by distress, not opportunity. Women are entering informal, unpaid, or subsistence-level work—not careers that empower, but jobs that barely sustain.

Even in urban, formal sectors, the dropout rate is alarming. Nearly 50% of women leave the labor force between ages 30 and 40—just when caregiving needs are highest. Motherhood, care for elderly, and domestic work conflict with career goals. It's not a "choice" when there are no options provided by society. It's quiet surrender.

The Invisible Economy India Refuses to Account For

Unpaid care work continues to be India's invisible engine of households. Millions of women wake up daily to cook, clean, nurse, educate, plan, and keep families together—without contracts, paychecks, or state acknowledgement.

Indian women spend an average of five hours every day on unpaid domestic work; men get through only one. Globally, unpaid care accounts for over 7.5% of India’s GDP—more than we spend on health or education. Yet, it goes uncounted and unsupported.

Without a care economy—affordable childcare, elderly services, domestic help—women are forced out of the paid workforce. Careers end not due to lack of skill or ambition, but because there’s no infrastructure to share the burden.

Falling Fertility and the Price of Aspiration

India’s fertility rate has dipped to 1.9—below the replacement threshold of 2.1. In metros, it’s even lower. Couples are increasingly opting for DINK (Double Income, No Kids) lifestyles. It isn’t a rejection of family—it’s a reflection of systems that make parenthood unaffordable.

There’s little to no institutional support: minimal parental leave, negligible workplace flexibility, and no local childcare access. Fertility is falling not because people don’t want children—but because the cost of raising them is too high, emotionally and economically. This mirrors the demographic crises already battering Japan and South Korea.

We Can’t Patch a Systemic Crisis

India’s efforts, like the Palna Scheme (2,688 creches for ~57,000 children), are symbolic at best. Compare that to France, which spends 2.5% of GDP on childcare, or Sweden’s 480-day paid parental leave model. Even South Korea is now trialing four-day work weeks to ease family stress.

India’s ambition to become a “Viksit Bharat” hinges not only on digitisation or defence—but on how we treat care as infrastructure. Tax credits for caregivers, employer-supported childcare, public-private creche partnerships, and community-based care solutions aren’t luxuries. They are lifelines.

Care Is Not a Private Problem. It’s a Public Priority.

If India wants women to participate in the economy, have children, and lead fulfilled lives, the care economy cannot be an afterthought. It must be front and centre in policy, budgeting, and social reform.

We ask women to rise, but hand them broken ladders. We laud working mothers, but build no scaffolding to hold them up. We want economic growth—but ignore the invisible labour enabling it.

India’s triangle—labour, care, and demography—can become a virtuous cycle. But only if we stop demanding impossible trade-offs from its women. The future won’t be built in boardrooms alone. It begins in kitchens, creches, and caregiving routines we’ve long ignored.

Teaching Children to Travel Before They Literally Start Piling Their Bags

There's an old adage which gets quoted so extensively amongst travelers: "The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page." In a country like India, that book is not merely thick but an encyclopedia of cultures, landscapes, tongues, and tales. But for schoolchildren by the millions, journeys have been the domain of book pages, sepia photographs, and the occasional summer vacation. The Ministry of Tourism, in its recent move, has altered all this. By making itself child-friendly on its Incredible India website, India has, as it were, created an endless classroom where geography, history, and culture become touchable—not recollected facts but to-be-touched.

This is not simply revamping a government portal. It's an unobtrusive revolution in how we think education must be. That we would create things specially for kids—interactive maps, digital stories, quizzes, trivia, and colorful pictures—underscores an awareness that education cannot be lowered to words and chalk. It requires movement, color, questioning, and most importantly, awe. That is precisely what travel offers, albeit virtually.

From Monuments to Memories

Think of how Indian textbooks typically introduce places. The Taj Mahal is presented as a Mughal wonder in marble. Rajasthan forts are categorized under medieval architecture. Kerala backwaters perhaps find a fleeting mention in geography texts on water bodies. They are presented as dead facts without any heart, to be memorized for a test. What the Incredible India website does is present them with a story which gives their heart to them.

A child who comes to the site does not only know that Taj Mahal was built in the 17th century; they are also exposed to Shah Jahan's dream, Yamuna river glimmering its brightness, and the artists' sweat chiseling out its stones. They don't only witness Rajasthan's forts as ruins—instead, they hear the voice of victories attained and the wars fought. The backwaters of Kerala are no longer blue lines on a map; they are waterways lined with houseboats plying down and festivals breaking out.

When children learn this way, they don't just recall the dates but the feelings—a connective emotional bond to heritage, one that textbooks are unable to create.

Education Meets Exploration

The brilliance of the project lies in its timing. Today, in the post-pandemic world, distance learning is no longer an add-on; it's standard for tens of millions of students. Yet, much of it is passive— hearing lectures, reading out of slides, or clicking on MCQs. By combining travel and learning, the Incredible India portal combines a pinch of fun. Games as experiments, smile-wink maps that winkle back, and questionnaires that question incite discovery rather than passive skimming.

It's fully in accord with the National Education Policy 2020 (NEP), which promotes experiential and interdisciplinary study. Travel, of course, is the most interdisciplinary topic there can be—geomorphology, history, anthropology, economics, ecology, even literature are all up for grabs. When the child discovers the Himalayas through the website, he is learning geology, biodiversity, mythology, and mountaineering in entirety. When he visits Varanasi, he feels the coming together of religion, art, town planning, and philosophy. This is exactly the kind of coming together of knowledge that is encouraged in NEP.

Travel as a Civic Teacher

Apart from studies, travel—real or imaginary—learns lessons that no school can teach. It makes them tolerant, respectful of nature and culture, and compassionate. This project exposes them to India's diversity early in life and makes them good students, but good citizens as well. A child who has learned to appreciate the Sundarbans' fragile ecosystem will be worried about global warming by nature. A child who has learned about the Kutch weavers' craft will naturally respect traditional lifestyles.

The Incredible India website thus does more than generate wanderlust; it sows seeds of responsibility. It says to kids: this is your heritage, your country, your duty to protect.

Challenges Ahead

Of course, no editorial ever is without noting omissions. With all its promise, such an on-line site has the potential to be elitist unless it is democratized. Private school children in the urban areas might learn lots, but rural India where the internet hasn't reached yet, what happens there? If mobility is the new teacher, then access needs to be normative. That means not just internet infrastructure but incorporation into school syllabi so that all the kids, irrespective of where they are from, can start this digital journey.

The second problem is depth. The platform can get children to learn about destinations, but will it also get children to think? Will it rise above nice pictures to discuss sustainable tourism, preservation of historic sites, and how tourism affects societies? The responses will tell us whether or not this is still a wishful exhibit case or otherwise a real learning tool.

A Vision Larger Than Tourism

At its essence, though, this project is not necessarily a vision of tourism. It's an acknowledgment that tourism is not necessarily holidays, Instagram selfies, and souvenirs. Tourism is pedagogy—pedagogy of questioning, pedagogy of listening to tales, pedagogy of writing difference. And by doing that with children, India has taken tourism out of being a consumerist luxury commodity but as a pedagogical tool and a nation-building device.

The Road Ahead

With strong leadership, this revolution can transform traveling and learning. Consider school assignments where kids plot travel routes for social studies class. Consider cyber pen-pal programs where students from various states learn about each other's local landmarks. Consider national tests where kids are tested not on memorization but on knowing storytelling heritage. The future is as vast as the nation itself.

In converting travel into the new classroom, India has made a huge leap. But long leaps, like long travels, are an incremental journey. The direction of this movement will be based on how it gets expanded, how it reaches so close, and how it inspires on an ongoing basis.

At least for the time being, here's what's certain: next generation Indians may not have known the nooks and crannies of their own nation, but through Incredible India's website, they will know it, love it, and, perhaps one day, reclaim it. And that's the real alchemy of education by tourism.

In 2014, when the Swachh Bharat Mission was launched, everyone ridiculed it as another slogan, another anniversary on the government calendar. But a decade down the line, the broom has swept away much more than roads—it has swept away the attitude of indifference, lethargy, and the belief that cleanliness is not one's concern. And now that the Limca Book of Records has authenticated it as the world's biggest cleanliness drive, not only has the movement gained legitimacy, but also attained immortality in the pages of history.

What's remarkable about this feat is not really the figures themselves—though they are staggering. Over 100 million toilets were built. Entire villages declared open-defecation free. Cities experimenting with waste segregation and plastic prohibition. These figures add up. But above all is the change in attitude. A child scolding her father for littering, a school teacher organizing children on a cleanliness procession, a neighborhood raising money to fix a broken drain—such little stories hardly get any publicity, yet they are the very beat of Swachh Bharat.

Cleanliness was treated as cosmetic effort for far too long, something done in advance of festivals or VIP visits. The mission defied that assumption, teaching us that sanitation isn't about appearance—it's about equality, health, and dignity. A toilet in a rural home is a woman no longer waiting till dark to use the toilet. A garbage-free street means fewer sick children from infection. A plastic-free school means future generations to develop an instinctive desire to conserve, not contaminate.

The Limca Book of Records award is not just a certificate. It is a reflection held against us, indicating to us that we, the masses, did it. Governments can launch schemes, allocate budgets, and design a campaign. But any cleanliness campaign can never succeed unless people raise the broom—literally and metaphorically. In that context, Swachh Bharat is perhaps India's most democratic movement in the past few years. It is so much the ragpicker's as it is the Prime Minister's who professed it.

Naturally, there are issues. Mountain-high trash dumps still line our cities. Rivers continue to carry untreated sewerage. Behaviour change is unstable, all too likely to be cast aside when convenience is called for. The journey from one campaign to perpetual cultural shift is a long, unfinished one. 

Can we move beyond symbolism and selfies, beyond broom photo-ops, and make cleanliness a part of our habits? Can education systems integrate sanitation awareness as seriously as they integrate mathematics? Can cities create systems that are simpler to obey than to defy? For record books' notice is a privilege. But recognition in our own day-to-days, in the manner in which we live and tend to our world—that is the reward we should seek.

Swachh Bharat is no more limited to a story of toilets and dustbins. It is about reclaiming dignity, health, and pride from our shared spaces. If the Limca Book of Records calls it the world's largest cleanliness drive, we need to make it the longest one as well. Because a clean India is not something we do for others—it is something we owe to ourselves, and to those who follow us.

Bio: Nibedita is an independent journalist honoured by the Government of India for her contributions to defence journalism.She has been an Accredited Defence Journalist since 2018, certified by the Ministry of Defence, Government of India.  With over 15 years of experience in print and digital media, she has extensively covered rural India, healthcare, education, and women’s issues. Her in-depth reporting has earned her an award from the Government of Goa back to back in 2018 and 2019. Nibedita’s work has been featured in leading national and international publications such as The Jerusalem Post, Down To Earth, Alt News, Sakal Times, and others.

Armed with nothing but handwritten notes, borrowed books, a laboratory of meagre means and a mind of magnificent depth, C.V. Raman had once proved to the world that scientific genius was not bound by geography or a free country- but a free mind. A spark of pride lit up then colonized India when C.V. Raman brought a Nobel Prize in Physics in 1930. Raman's triumph was not personal. It was National.  

After him came legends like Srinivasa Ramanujan, Homi Bhabha, and Meghnad Saha who emerged as torchbearers of a generation who believed that science could change lives.

But today, that altar gathers dust.

At times when technology defines power, India's elite institutions like the IITs shine globally producing world-class engineers, data scientists, and AI pioneers. The top international tech firms of India, drive Silicon Valley unicorns, and publish in prestigious journals. But how many of these brilliant minds pursue original scientific research on Indian soil? How many walk the path of curiosity that Raman once did?

The answer is sobering.

Nearly 30–40% of top IIT graduates now leave India annually in search of better academic and research opportunities. The rest are absorbed into corporate jobs that, while lucrative, rarely reward scientific risk-taking or fundamental innovation. The tragedy isn’t a lack of talent—it’s a systemic failure to nurture it.

Every year we mark National Science Day with lofty speeches, name institutions and roads after our scientific giants, and quote their brilliance on banners and in textbooks. And yet, come the next day, we return to a system that fails to build the very ecosystem they once thrived in.

What we lack is not talent—it is research funding, mentorship pipelines, institutional autonomy, and most critically, the cultural imagination to see science not as a mere career path, but as a calling—a lifelong pursuit of truth, no matter how inconvenient or uncertain. India must learn to dream beyond global rankings and tech placements. We must revive the spirit of fearless inquiry, where asking questions matters more than scoring marks, and where institutions empower young minds to explore, not just execute.

The question isn’t whether India has the minds—it always has.

The question is—do we have the will to let them soar?

This brain drain is not a figure—it's a symptom. Indian higher education, especially in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics fields, has been quietly transformed to supply the global labor market, instead of creating global innovation. Our best students are not abandoning science—they're being routinely pushed out of it, by under-resourced labs, antiquated research institutions, red tape, and sheer absence of reward for risk-taking and innovative thinking.

Meanwhile, our public universities—once cradles of discovery—are decaying, chronically short of funds, faculty, and vision. Raman himself emerged from a humble Calcutta University lab, not a gleaming, globally ranked campus. 

The real tragedy isn’t that India lacks Nobel-worthy minds. It’s that we’ve created an ecosystem where even if they exist, they are more likely to be recognized abroad than supported at home.

The reckoning hour has come for the country. India requires a science policy that values blue-sky research over mindless benchmarks, invests in universities along with top institutions, and renders it economically sound for the next C.V. Raman to remain, to innovate, and flourish here.

We can't continue to be a country that produces brilliance but imports innovation. Indian science's next phase calls for more than infrastructure—it calls for imagination, investment, and integrity.

Until then, our celebrations of Raman will remain just that—nostalgic echoes of a scientific golden age we’re no longer building toward.

Bio: Nibedita is an independent journalist honoured by the Government of India for her contributions to defence journalism.She has been an Accredited Defence Journalist since 2018, certified by the Ministry of Defence, Government of India.  With over 15 years of experience in print and digital media, she has extensively covered rural India, healthcare, education, and women’s issues. Her in-depth reporting has earned her an award from the Government of Goa back to back in 2018 and 2019. Nibedita’s work has been featured in leading national and international publications such as The Jerusalem Post, Down To Earth, Alt News, Sakal Times, and others.

India's rise to third position in the world in terms of research paper retractions, after only the United States and China, should stir the country to introspection, not despair. Alarming as the increasing number of retractions may be, is the institutional lethargy that has permitted scholarly malpractice to simmer undetected for years.

So far, the National Institutional Ranking Framework (NIRF) has favored quantity over quality, where institutions have rewarded paper numbers and not academic integrity. That policy is now changing. From 2025, NIRF will start penalizing institutions for retracted papers. It is a good decision, but belatedly so.

Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) is in the news after retired professor Rajeev Kumar blamed his former PhD student Om Prakash for pilfering and publishing his work in an IEEE journal without permission. The questionable paper, Detection of Fake Accounts on Social Media Using Multimodal Data With Deep Learning, was released on August 7, 2023, with seven co-authors from other institutions. The question is: why are professors at esteemed institutions being unethical — or are they being forced to be?

Some of the high-profile examples are like Prof. Zillur Rahman's case from IIT Roorkee who is representative of this broader malaise. Even though five of his papers were retracted between 2004 and 2020 for plagiarism, duplication, and dubious data, he continued to serve as dean up to May 2025. When whistleblower Achal Agarwal from India Research Watchdog brought the matter to the attention of the institute, he was ignored. Neither the professor nor the institute gave any response.

Figures from post-pub indicate that the retraction rate for India rose from 1.5 per 1,000 articles in 2012 to 3.5 in 2022. Pressure to publish—particularly on aspiring PhDs and young teaching faculty—is real. However, the underlying issue is the lack of legal protection. Whereas nations like Denmark and the UK have an independent agency to probe research misconduct, India lacks one. Rather than addressing complaints, they are shuffled between regulatory bodies such as the UGC and Department of Science and Technology—typically with no follow-up.

Even among public universities, the rot does not stop. Private colleges, influenced by the NIRF's measurements, tend to pressure professors to produce research without proper funding. It is no surprise that this creates hasty, subpar publications—many in predatory journals that bypass quality checks altogether.

A few institutions like BITS Pilani are already leading the way by establishing Research Integrity Offices and making ethics training investments reducing AInxiety in students and professors.. Isolated interventions, however, cannot repair a damaged system. It’s a game of quality vs. quantity — which one wins?

The forthcoming Higher Education Commission of India (HECI) can provide more regulatory bite. But with or without participation by state governments, it is questionable whether it will be effective.

If India wants to be a world center for research, integrity cannot be a choice. Academic dishonesty must have actual, career-changing penalties. Otherwise, the harm to India's reputation as scholars will go on—beneath the radar, but never-ending.

Bio: Nibedita is an independent journalist honoured by the Government of India for her contributions to defence journalism. With over 15 years of experience in print and digital media, she has extensively covered rural India, healthcare, education, and women’s issues. Her in-depth reporting has earned her an award from the Government of Goa back to back in 2018 and 2019. Nibedita’s work has been featured in leading national and international publications such as The Jerusalem Post, Down To Earth, Alt News, Sakal Times, and others.

As a society, we often prioritise academic achievement over the emotional well-being of our children. The stress of shifting schools and cities can have a profound impact on young minds, leading to feelings of loneliness, anxiety, and isolation.