Last week I wrote about humanness in the age of AI – the truth that our adaptability, empathy, and imagination will matter even more as technology accelerates.
But if that’s our edge, here’s the next question we need to ask: who is truly preparing us to sharpen it?
I find myself thinking a lot about the future of global education – what stays, what breaks, and what must be rebuilt. As I ponder, I keep circling back to this: our universities were designed for a world that no longer exists. And unless we reimagine them, we risk losing the very spaces meant to nurture our humanness.
There was a time when knowledge lived behind gates – ivy-covered, guarded, exclusive. Professors lectured. Students listened. Degrees signaled arrival. But in the age of the creator economy and generative AI, the monopoly on knowledge is crumbling. Anyone with a phone can teach. Anyone with an idea can build an audience. Learning is no longer a pipeline – it’s a loop, a collaboration, a remix. So where does that leave the university?
Let’s start with a difficult but necessary realization: the traditional degree is losing its power. It still opens doors – for now – but fewer than before, and often not the ones students hoped for. Employers are increasingly skeptical. Students are increasingly in debt. And the gap between what’s taught and what’s needed widens with every ChatGPT release, every startup pitch, every short-form course that teaches more in three hours than some programs do in three years.
[Heck, I learned AI through YouTube videos to build College Genie (collegegenie.org), the world’s first AI powered college and career counselor.]
A four-year degree assumes that the future can be predicted in a neat curricular arc. But the world doesn’t run on arcs anymore. It runs on algorithms.
We are entering a post-degree world. Not because degrees are inherently worthless, but because they are increasingly incomplete. The future belongs not to those who have passed a test – but to those who can adapt, create, and collaborate in real time.
That’s not a knock on academia. It’s a call to action.
So what happens to universities when everyone’s a creator?
They can double down on gatekeeping or become the gate openers.
They can cling to prestige, or redefine it.
But what does redefining it actually look like?
If you’re a university leader:
Start by unbundling the degree.
- Offer micro-pathways that lead to skills, not just credentials.
- Make project-based learning the norm, not the exception.
- Integrate content from creators, entrepreneurs, and industry voices – recognize them as adjuncts of the modern world.
Shift from instruction to incubation.
- Rethink your role: less sage on stage, more community builder and creative lab.
- Incentivize faculty who build partnerships, not just publications.
- Build bridges between the university and the creator economy: offer studio space instead of just lecture halls.
Ditch the prestige arms race.
- Stop obsessing over rankings that reward exclusion and research citations.
- Instead, measure what matters: access, outcomes, resilience, and real-world impact.
If you’re an educator inside the system:
Challenge the curriculum creep.
- Advocate for agile syllabi that adapt to emerging tools and platforms.
- Make room for co-creation with students. Let them shape the questions, not just answer them.
Model vulnerability.
- Let students see you experimenting with AI, failing at it, and learning from it.
- Admit what you don’t know. This builds trust – and models lifelong learning better than any theory ever could.
Become a curator, not a gatekeeper.
- Point students to credible YouTube channels, Discord communities, or indie creators.
- Teach discernment, not dogma. Your job is to help them navigate the flood – not bottle it up.
If you’re a student (or a parent):
Stop asking “Where did they go?” and start asking “What did they build?”
- Shift the college search from brand names to real outcomes. What skills will I have? What problems will I solve?
Demand more from your institutions.
- Ask: Will I graduate with a portfolio? Will I have access to global mentors? Can I customize my path?
- Don’t be satisfied with slick marketing. Ask about substance.
Build your own transcript.
- Create a body of work. Launch something. Document your thinking. Show, don’t tell.
- The diploma is just one story. Write your own.
If you’re in government or policy:
Fund flexible, modular, lifelong learning ecosystems.
- Invest in open credentialing systems that track skills, not seat time.
- Create education savings accounts that students can use throughout life – not just for a four-year window.
Stop treating education like an input. Start seeing it as infrastructure
- Just like roads, broadband, and energy grids, learning infrastructure powers economic mobility. Build it accordingly.
Regulate the new and reform the old.
- Set quality standards for AI tutors, nano-degrees, and edtech providers.
- But also demand accountability from legacy institutions: Are they preparing citizens or just producing alumni?
If you’re an entrepreneur:
Don’t just disrupt the classroom – reimagine the campus.
- Build tools that bring creators, learners, and employers into shared spaces.
- Focus on trust, community, and trackable outcomes – not just scale.
Bet on breadth.
- The most successful future learners won’t just code – they’ll create. Build platforms that combine STEM, storytelling, ethics, and emotion.
Don’t just ask what’s broken. Ask what’s beautiful and build around it.
- Some parts of the university still matter deeply: reflection, mentorship, collaboration. Wrap technology around those values, not just around efficiency.
The future isn’t anti-university. But it is post-tradition.
If universities are willing to evolve, they can still be something profound.
Not the final destination – but the launchpad.
Not a system of control – but a network of creativity.
Not a tower – but a town square.
And that doesn’t happen by accident.
It happens when leaders stop chasing rankings and start chasing relevance.
When educators stop guarding content and start curating possibility.
When students and families stop settling for glossy brochures and start demanding proof of growth.
When governments and entrepreneurs stop tweaking the old and start daring to build the new.
The next era of education won’t be built by a few institutions. It will be built by all of us – because the last ivory tower will only fall when enough of us decide that the future is worth creating together.
That’s the future worth fighting for.
Because if humanness is our edge, then reimagining where and how we nurture it might be the most important work of our time.
Ex Cogitatione, Progressus.
Girish
