Today's Editorial

16 August 2020

Philosophy behind MPhil

Source: By Bibek Debroy: The Financial Express

The National Educational Policy (NEP) 2020 states, “Undertaking a PhD shall require either a Master’s degree or a 4-year Bachelor’s degree with research. The MPhil programme shall be discontinued”. In MPhil degree, Rules and practices vary across countries. But, typically—(a) MPhil is a preparatory step towards PhD, with a combination of course work and dissertation.

Filters are required to ensure the right candidate goes on to join a PhD programme, and I know individuals from my fraternity/sorority who have done PhDs directly after a BA degree. I don’t mean decades ago. There are such individuals, even among my contemporaries. In accepting reason (a), we implicitly acknowledge our filters at MA/MSc level don’t work. Perhaps the numbers are too high.

Perhaps MA/MSc programmes have been diluted. We are unable to distinguish wheat from chaff. If MA/MSc programmes are tightened, and there is something akin to GRE, we won’t need the MPhil filter, and reason (a) disappears. (NEP does mention a National Testing Agency and such tests). There is also reason (b). A candidate has submitted a dissertation for a PhD degree, but since this is not of the requisite quality, a lower degree of MPhil is offered. These numbers are unlikely to be significant, and in such an eventuality, there can be alternative lower degrees, not necessarily MPhil.

For (a) and (b), the terminal goal is the PhD. But, other reasons affect and distort choice. For instance, (c)—MPhil is necessary to be appointed as faculty member in a college, or to be promoted, once appointed. I am aware that UGC’s norms have changed over time, and the answer also depends on whether one has a college or a university in mind.

However, if there are three possible filters for entry and vertical mobility, PhD, MPhil and the National Eligibility Test (NET), and anyone of these suffixes, one might expect a spike in MPhil candidates because that is an easier hurdle to cross. Without getting into specifics of the UGC norms, you would then expect a spike in MPhil enrolments around 2000 and 2006, and a decline in recent years, such as since 2009.

There is reason (d) too, allied to (c). Choice can also be distorted through public financial aid, meaning something like the junior research fellowship (JRF) scheme. I have nothing against financial aid for those undertaking research. That is obviously desirable. The point is that JRF (other than contingency, `31,000 per month) need not necessarily lead to PhD and a career in research, as reasons (a) and (b) might make us believe. Pursuing an MPhil while thinking of other career options, such as preparing for civil service examinations, was acceptable.

Stated differently, exit with publicly funded MPhil was possible. Obviously, there is not much one can do about this. In other countries too, when financial aid is offered for a terminal and integrated PhD, candidates sometimes drop out after an MPhil/MS. There is no question of asking for a refund of financial aid already offered or asking for a bond in advance.

But, think of perverse incentives in the following way. `31,000 per month without paying income tax and with subsidised board and lodging. Joining as a college lecturer with a salary of `35,000 per month, with income tax and without subsidised board and lodging. If incentives are loaded against joining as a college lecturer, one can’t help but feel that there is a systemic problem. If reasons (a) and (b) are the primary ones and not (c) or (d), you would probably expect the ratio of MPhil enrolments to PhD enrolments to be constant over time, across geographical region and discipline, and perhaps even across the type of educational institution.

For 2018-19, we have some numbers from All-India Survey on Higher Education (AISHE). In these numbers, there is a stock and a flow. Reported figures are for the stock, though one can derive the flow. In either case, the argument should not change much. In 2014-15, stock of MPhil enrolment was 33,371 while that for PhD was 117,301, a ratio of 0.28.

That should raise eyebrows. If MPhil is a filter (reasons (a) and (b)), stock of MPhil enrolments should be more than that of PhD enrolments, not less. In 2018-19, stock of MPhil enrolment was 30,692, while that for PhD was 169,170, a ratio of 0.18. From these trends, it should be obvious that MPhil aspirations were driven by reasons like (c) and (d). Given those numbers, in 2018-19, you would expect the number of MPhil enrolments to be roughly one-fifth the number of PhD enrolments, regardless of state. But there are clear outliers—Andhra Pradesh, Assam, Delhi, Gujarat, Haryana, Himachal, Jharkhand, Karnataka, Kerala, Madhya Pradesh, Rajasthan, Punjab, Rajasthan, Tamil Nadu, UP, Uttarakhand, and West Bengal.

In this list, all but Delhi and Tamil Nadu, have disproportionately (relative to 0.18) high number of PhD enrolments, compared to MPhil. For Delhi and Tamil Nadu, MPhil enrolments are disproportionately high. This requires an explanation, which, in all probability, will be linked to (c) and (d), and not (a) and (b).

Incidentally, most MPhil students are enrolled in central universities and state public universities. Across a wide range of disciplines, barring defence studies, foreign trade, Tamil, Odia, and psychiatry, PhD enrolments are invariably more than MPhil, yet another pointer that MPhil degree was anything but a filter. It was an exit option.