By Arberim Iseini
As with any debate, the one surrounding the draft law on higher education has brought a series of opposing views. And as is often the case, debates begin with big words such as autonomy, quality, standards, Europe, progress…, yet somehow fail to touch the essence sufficiently.
This draft law, prepared by 60 experts who, incidentally, remain “ghosts” to the public, arrives in a system that has long been “ill” and already metastasized. Problems of clientelism, questionable quality, plagiarism, excessive fragmentation of institutions, formalism, and a range of other complications burden the environment to the point where, when reforms are discussed, not only hope is awakened, but also a sense of threat among the already established “elite.”
This raises the question: Is this law reformist or merely disciplinary?
The first dilemma, of course, is autonomy. At first glance, the draft law gives the impression of strengthening the concept of academic freedom, autonomy in governance and financing, as well as the inviolability of university space. But when one looks at the composition of decision-making bodies, that impression significantly fades.
The National Council is envisaged to have 15 members, of whom 6 are directly appointed by the Government, while it exerts significant influence over another 2. The University Council is to have 11 members, of whom 4 are appointed by the Government upon the minister’s proposal. In a stable, normal, and institutionally mature environment, this could be interpreted as a balance between public oversight and academic autonomy. In our context, quite understandably, it creates a sense of risk of political influence.
Still, it would be too easy to stop here and say that everything is merely an attack on the university. It is not so. To be fair, this law also contains elements that should not be automatically rejected. These include the affirmation of student participation, equality and non-discrimination, mobility, as well as attempts to align with European quality standards. More modern forms are also strengthened, such as dual education, joint and double degrees, micro-credentials, as well as the requirement for greater institutional transparency through the mandatory publication of statutes, accreditations, annual reports, financial statements, and codes of ethics on the official websites of institutions.
In a system where, for years, many things have been resolved in corridors, with a phone call and a “we’ll fix it,” this is not negligible. Any insistence on transparency and accountability carries weight. The problem is not that the law fails to recognize the crisis, but that it seeks to resolve it more through oversight than development, and more through discipline than trust.
This leads us to the second dilemma, perhaps the most heated one. The law aims to restore the “weight” of the academic title, which in itself is a legitimate and noble ambition. But again, the question is not only what it seeks to achieve, but how it attempts to achieve it. The strong reliance on Web of Science, the h-index, and other quantitative indicators may sound like academic seriousness, but in practice, it risks turning into mechanical counting, especially in the social sciences and humanities. If all disciplines are measured by the same yardstick, then we are not raising the standard, but erasing the differences between fields, methodologies, and scientific approaches.
Furthermore, on the one hand, the path for young researchers becomes more rigid and difficult. On the other hand, the law leaves room for continued engagement of professors after retirement, including at higher levels of study. This creates the impression of a system that speaks of the future but instinctively continues to trust the past. In a country already facing brain drain, this is not only a contradiction but also a dangerous message.
But perhaps the biggest problem is neither who will sit on the councils nor how many papers will be required. The most essential issue is that in our society, the very meaning of the diploma has long been shaken. We are no longer talking only about the quality of higher education, but about a crisis of trust in what a diploma is supposed to represent. Is it proof of knowledge, a ticket into politicized systems, or merely a symbolic ornament that grants status without real weight?
Here we return to the sharp formulation of the title: “more illiterates than graduates.” Not because it is literally accurate, but because emotionally, politically, and socially, it touches the nerve of the problem. Not only because graduates know less, but because the system increasingly produces something even more dangerous: more and more graduates, but fewer and fewer people who believe that a diploma and knowledge are the light that will guide them forward. This is no longer just a question of knowledge, but of trust. And when trust in education erodes, not only does the light of the university fade, but so does the very idea that effort and hard work have meaning.
Therefore, perhaps it is time to discuss the essence: what knowledge means, what a diploma should prove, and why both have lost so much of their weight in our society.
Precisely for this reason, even a problematic draft law like this can be a step in the right direction, because it forces us to finally open the long-postponed debate on the very meaning of reform. Higher education cannot be reformed solely through top-down approaches, with new bodies, forms, and criteria, but through reforms that arise from the real experiences of students, assistants, professors, and from the concrete needs of society.
If we want more “graduates” and fewer “illiterates,” we will need to do much more than fix a few articles in a law. Otherwise, we will continue painting legal façades that sound “European,” but are applied “Balkan-style.”
The text was developed within the project “Advocacy for Inclusive Development,” financially supported by the Government of Switzerland through the Civica Mobilitas programme.
The content of this text is the sole responsibility of the Forum for Reasonable Policies, IOHN, and BIRC, and in no way can be considered to reflect the views of the Government of Switzerland, Civica Mobilitas, or the implementing organisations.


