2+2, 3+1, or even the new and improved 3.5+1.5… regardless of how you add it up, the math ain’t mathing.
Those of us in international education share a common purpose: to help students see beyond borders and connect with the world.
But much of our field still operates from a Global North perspective—shaped by systems with resources, infrastructure, and mobility privilege. The dominant models—2+2 pathways, semester exchanges, outbound programs—were built for institutions that can afford to swap students and sign MOUs with ease. But these approaches often don’t translate in the Global South, especially across the Indian subcontinent, where the demand for international education is rising—but the traditional models are out of sync with local realities.
Take the case of India: despite hundreds of MOUs being signed between global universities and Indian institutions, most remain non-functional. These agreements may look impressive on paper, but they rarely result in meaningful collaboration, student mobility, or joint programming. It’s yet another sign that the system we’re relying on simply doesn’t work as intended.
And the impact? Minimal. Uneven. Sometimes non-existent.
This isn’t a failure of effort. It’s a failure of imagination.
Sure, there are pilots. There are case studies. There are pockets of creative ideas. But at a systemic level, the fundamentals of international education remain unchanged. Universities sign MOUs, students move between institutions, and we continue to treat mobility as the primary measure of global learning.
Meanwhile, the world is sprinting ahead:
Education is being unbundled, with micro-credentials and self-paced learning challenging the dominance of traditional degrees.
AI is reshaping career pathways faster than curricula can keep up.
Employers are prioritizing skills over diplomas, yet universities still sell degrees as the only path to success.
The digital economy has made remote work, cross-border teams, and global collaboration the norm—yet we still insist that the only way to gain international experience is by physically moving students around.
And in countless conversations—at conferences, over coffee, on Zoom calls—many of my colleagues have voiced the same sentiment and agree that things need to change.
We’ve talked about the need for new thinking. We’ve questioned the value of well-worn approaches. And increasingly, we’re realizing that the tools we’re using today were designed for a different era—and often, for a different context.
If we’re honest with ourselves, most of what we call innovation in international education is really just incrementalism. We tweak. We refine. We optimize. But we don’t radically rethink.
10 Questions to Break the Cycle
If we truly want to prepare students for the future, we need to stop recycling old ideas and start asking bolder questions:
1. Why is student mobility still the foundation of international education?
Can global education happen without travel?
Shouldn’t every student have access to an internationalized education, not just the privileged few who can afford to study abroad?
What if global learning was embedded into every degree, rather than an optional experience?
2. Why is international education still disconnected from the realities of work?
What if international education was designed around global workforce needs, not just academic exchange?
What if every study abroad program included structured industry exposure?
What if universities co-developed international learning modules with multinational employers, ensuring students graduate with competencies that translate across borders and into their local and regional economies?
What if internships and project-based global learning were the norm?
3. Why do we keep designing international education around institutions instead of individuals?
Imagine a “Spotify for Learning” where students mix and match global courses, mentors, and experiences from different institutions and industries.
What if students could earn stackable credentials from universities and companies worldwide?
What if international education was a marketplace, not a closed system of university agreements?
4. Why is global learning still structured around rigid timelines?
Could we shift to a competency-based global education model?
What if global experiences were embedded into flexible, modular curricula?
What if students could mix short-term global learning without being penalized for not following Western academic calendars?
5. Why is student engagement measured by attendance rather than impact?
What if universities were evaluated not on participation rates but on long-term global impact—like international entrepreneurship or cross-border collaborations?
6. Why do we treat international alumni as an afterthought?
What if global alumni networks were core to internationalization strategies, not just fundraising tools?
What if universities actively connected international alumni with current students for mentoring, internships, and job pipelines across borders?
What if we built global professional communities, turning graduates into lifelong ambassadors and collaborators—not just former students?
7. Why is full-degree recruitment still the default model for international education?
What if international education prioritized shorter, stackable, or hybrid programs?
What if we shifted toward flexible, modular experiences like micro-terms or global sprints?
What if the future wasn’t tied to residency, but to relevance?
8. Why is study abroad still framed as an add-on?
What if universities created a borderless education model, integrating global learning into every degree?
What if global learning wasn’t a program for some, but a promise to all?
9. Why is global education still unaffordable for most students, especially in the Global South?
What if funding was tied to industry partnerships, allowing students to earn while they learn?
What if universities reinvested international tuition revenue into global learning scholarships?
10. Why do international education conferences still avoid the uncomfortable conversations?
Yes, there are bright spots—panels on innovation, a growing presence of startups. But most discussions still center on safe, familiar ground.
Where are the Global South voices and perspectives missing from strategy tables?
What if we invited not just traditional stakeholders, but also designers, technologists, employers, and students?
What if we created a TechCrunch Disrupt-style event, focused not on what’s been but on what needs to be built next?
The Real Challenge
Disruption doesn’t always require destruction. But it does demand honesty and the courage to stop polishing broken models.
As the field of international education continues to grow, the question isn’t whether we expand access or drive innovation—it’s how and for whom.
And if we’re not building with the Global South in mind, then we’re not really building for the future.
Ex Cogitatione, Progressus
—Girish