Opinion As a STEM researcher and student, I would leave India — and that breaks my heart
Instead of focusing on the question, 'How do we bring back the best?' the government must find answers to the more urgent question: ‘Why does the system make staying so difficult?’
A modest reallocation and faster administrative reforms will keep talent at home, speed up research outputs, and make science a realistic option for students who now view it as a risk (Illustration: C R Sasikumar) Written by Arpan Malakar
As a first-generation learner at a Tier-3 college — with no career cell and no mentors — I took a leap many would call reckless. I paid for a Rs 1,400 online module, practised timed mocks, and moved 1,500 km to IIT Delhi after securing AIR 198 in the 2024 IIT-JAM (Joint Admission Test for Masters). That journey depended on scraps of information, stubbornness and luck. But for many promising students, those scraps never arrive.
When I reached IIT Delhi, the difference was immediate. Yet, even here, the system falters. We booked a facility for a one-day experiment; multiple approvals stretched it into weeks. Even at IIT Delhi’s calibre, navigating approvals may take weeks — not because of inefficiency, but because much of India’s university system still operates within outdated administrative rules. When bureaucracy can slow our best institutions, imagine Tier-2 and Tier-3 colleges. Small delays turn promising projects into missed windows of discovery.
In fact, money and predictability matter as much as infrastructure to a student. India’s gross expenditure on R&D hovers around 0.60.7 per cent of GDP as of 2020-21 — far below the United States (~3.4 per cent), China (~2.6 per cent) and Israel (6 per cent). AISHE recorded roughly 2.12 lakh PhD registrations in 2021–22, yet converting that pipeline into stable careers is far from guaranteed. As of early 2024, 1.33 million Indian students were studying abroad, with 7,60,000 migrating in 2024 alone. This cumulative drain — across all fields, not just research — signals systemic failure to retain talent at home.
The stipend for junior research fellowships (JRF) is set at roughly Rs 37,000 per month, but late payments (typically delayed by three to six months, with some scholars reporting delays of eight months to nearly a year), short contracts and uncertain post-PhD options make that figure insufficient for many, including those supporting families. For many researchers in their mid-20s, the unpredictability makes even basic decisions, including marriage, housing, and long-term planning, feel impossible.
There is a cultural dimension as well. A friend of mine with a BSc in zoology aspired to be a biologist but is now preparing for government clerical exams. This is because a steady salary feels more realistic than five precarious years of research.
Dreams don’t die here; they expire waiting for approvals, stipends and equipment. I have seen seniors leave for Oxford and Rice University, and the Max-Planck Institute. They do not leave because they love India less — they leave because the system makes staying harder than going. If a credible opportunity arose, I would seriously consider leaving — and that thought breaks my heart.
The government has recently signalled that it recognises this crisis. A new proposal aims to attract Indian-origin researchers with set-up grants, institutional autonomy and more flexible working arrangements — an important and welcome policy turn.
But headlines and grants alone will not solve what is broken on the ground. The scheme appears aimed at a limited cohort of returning “stars”, while thousands of PhD candidates live with late stipends, procurement delays that stretch experiments into months, and no clear post-PhD pathways. The scheme asks, “How do we bring back the best?” The more urgent question is: “Why does the system make staying so difficult?”
The following are not complaints; they form a compact, actionable reform agenda. Students and researchers need and deserve guaranteed, predictable, dignified pay. Auto-disburse fellowships on fixed monthly dates and index stipends to city cost-of-living indices (separate tiers for Delhi, Bangalore, Hyderabad, Kolkata). Predictability reduces friction and mental distress.
Remove procedural friction. Speed up procurement for lab materials, set clear timelines for approvals, and allow small purchases at the department level. Reduce paperwork delays so research doesn’t get held up for months.
Build early-career pathways. Fund multi-year postdoctoral fellowships and bridge grants with mentorship. Early-career certainty makes research a staged profession, not a heroic sacrifice.
These are administrative and budgetary choices, not miracles. A modest reallocation and faster administrative reforms will keep talent at home, speed up research outputs, and make science a realistic option for students who now view it as a risk. Beneath all this lies a cultural challenge: The belief that research is a risky detour, not a real career. That will change only when stability and dignity become the norm.
A Rs 1,400 course changed the trajectory of my life; yet many avoid research due to instability, slow systems and social pressure. These reforms could unlock opportunities for millions. Talent is scattered across districts; opportunity is not. The system does more than stall dreams — it pushes dreamers away: Some abandon science, some leave India, some lose themselves. Fix the upstream barriers, and India will nurture its brightest minds to build its own future.
The writer is a Physics postgraduate from IIT Delhi