"Once upon a time in a bustling tropical republic, there lived a former head of state—once hailed as a man of the people. He wore bomber jackets, rode big motorcycles, planted rice for the cameras, and posed for selfies with citizens while chanting, “We work, work, work!” What kind of work? Nobody really knew. But it sounded productive. Now retired, he was no longer referred to by name, but simply by his initials: FPP — Former Populist President. His full name had been carefully redacted, mainly to protect national unity and the stock value of a plywood conglomerate run by his associates.
One sunny morning, FPP was politely invited by the National Police Force, or more precisely, MPK was scripted to be called by the Police to provide clarification in an ongoing investigation. A serious case, they said—one that touched on integrity, public funds, and (most crucially) the evening news ratings.
But this was no grim courtroom drama. There were no swinging lights, no grizzled detectives. FPP arrived smiling, surrounded by aides, welcomed with gourmet coffee from the Sentul Highlands.
The interrogation room? More like a cosy café lounge. A TV hummed softly in the background, playing a family soap opera. A high-ranking officer greeted him with a warm handshake and handed over a sheet of paper.
“Here you go, sir. Just 22 questions.”
FPP glanced at the page, and then said, "What is this question?"
"It's just multiple choice, sir!" replied the officer.
"How do you answer it?" asked the former President.
The officer was a little amazed, wasn't that a statement on the exam for elementary, middle and high school students. Could it be that the issue of fake diplomas was true... but a moment later he was able to control himself.
The officer then gave a sample question.
1. When citizens protest a mega-project, you should:
A. Listen sincerely
B. Deploy online influencers to spin the narrative
C. Open more investment permits
D. All of the above
In short, with a calm smile, FPP began checking boxes. A, B, D, D, C. He even joked at one point, “This one? Easy. I’ve been picking this option since my first term.”
Within an hour, it was done. The nation’s most important police interview concluded faster than a lunch break.
Reporters waited outside, but were given only a brief statement:
“All questions have been answered. No stress, bro. We’re a democracy.”
Talk shows dissected the moment for days. “Twenty-two questions, sixty minutes—what efficiency!” exclaimed a political analyst who also happened to moonlight as a PR consultant.
The public? Divided. Some asked, “Wait, that’s it?” Others gushed, “He’s still got it. Always made decisions fast—even when buying a folding bike!”
A few students tried to protest, demanding transparency. But their efforts were drowned out by a wave of influencers posting TikTok dances with the hashtag: #HeAlreadyWorked
The country rolled on. The soap operas never stopped. Chili prices rose slightly, but not as high as the trending topic: “Former President Aces Pop Quiz of Justice.”
Amidst the hustle and bustle, the police officer sat "perplexed" thinking about the incident that had just happened to him. He imagined Hamlet was taking a multiple-choice test:
Question: To be or not to be?
A. Be
B. Not to be
C. Both
D. Cannot be determined
Hamlet: "Alas, poor me, is 'E. Overthink the question' an option?"
The police officer muttered, "Life’s deepest questions don’t always come with neat answer bubbles."
And so it went in a land across the ocean, where former leaders undergo legal scrutiny the same way teenagers take midterms. Where the truth is not spoken, but selected—A, B, C, or D.
Who says being a citizen is hard? In this land, all you need is to know how to take a test. Or better yet—know who writes the questions."
Why is John Amos Comenius (1592–1670) called the Father of Education? Once he said, “Education is the key to paradise.” A poetic way of saying that learning opens the doors to a better, more enlightened life—both in this world and beyond.
He believed that education should be universal—for everyone, regardless of gender, social class, or nationality. This was revolutionary at the time. He emphasised learning by doing and using the senses, which anticipated modern educational psychology. His book "Orbis Pictus" (1658) was the first picture book for children and made learning more accessible and engaging. Orbis Pictus was like the 1600s version of a kid’s illustrated encyclopedia—equal parts learning tool and visual adventure for young minds. He proposed a structured system of education from early childhood through university—kind of like the school systems we use today.
John Amos Comenius was born in Moravia, a historical region that is now part of the Czech Republic. At the time of his birth in 1592, Moravia was under the rule of the Holy Roman Empire. Comenius is often recognised as a Czech (Bohemian-Moravian) educator and reformer, and a pivotal figure in the history of education in Central Europe.
Once he said, "Let the main object of this, our didactic, be to seek and to find a method of instruction by which teachers may teach less, but learners may learn more.” Comenius believed that education should focus less on endless lectures and more on empowering students to actively engage and learn more efficiently. He wanted teaching to be smarter, not just harder.
He also said, “We are all citizens of one world; we are all of one blood. To hate people because they were born in another country, because they speak a different language, or because they take a different view on this subject or that, is a great folly.” Long before the concept of global citizenship was trendy, Comenius was already promoting unity, tolerance, and peace. For him, education was a path to understanding across cultures and beliefs.
In short, Comenius didn’t just teach kids—he reimagined how we teach and why we teach. That's why many educators and historians honour him as the “Father of Modern Education".
Comenius was ahead of his time in recognizing that play is not a waste—but a vital part of learning that prepares us for real life. He said, “Much can be learned in play that will afterwards be of use when the circumstances demand it.”
Education exists as a fundamental element in the development of individuals and societies. At its core, education serves to transmit knowledge, values, and skills from one generation to the next. It is a process through which people learn how to think critically, solve problems, communicate effectively, and understand the world around them. Without education, societies would struggle to preserve their cultural heritage, foster innovation, or sustain progress. The purpose of education goes beyond merely preparing individuals for the workforce. It nurtures personal growth, shapes moral character, and encourages responsible citizenship. Through education, people gain the ability to question, to reflect, and to engage meaningfully with others in diverse settings. In doing so, they become better equipped to contribute positively to their communities and the broader world.
Education also plays a crucial role in reducing inequality and promoting social mobility. It opens doors to opportunities and empowers individuals to rise above the circumstances of poverty, discrimination, or marginalisation. In this sense, education becomes a powerful tool for achieving justice, peace, and sustainable development.
Education exists because human beings are born with potential—but that potential must be cultivated, guided, and refined. It is through education that we transform raw ability into real capability and dreams into action.
In Pedagogy of the Oppressed (1970, Herder and Herder), Paulo Freire argues that education should not be a passive act of depositing information into students, which he famously describes as the "banking model of education." In this traditional model, students are treated like empty containers to be filled with knowledge by the teacher, who holds all authority. Freire criticises this approach because it reinforces a power dynamic that mirrors oppressive structures in society: the teacher knows everything, the student knows nothing; the teacher speaks, the student listens. This method, he claims, conditions people to accept the status quo rather than question or transform it.
Freire proposes an alternative—what he calls a dialogical or problem-posing model of education. In this model, education becomes a practice of freedom. Teachers and students engage in a mutual process of learning, where both are co-creators of knowledge. Instead of memorising disconnected facts, students critically examine their reality, reflect on it, and act upon it. This act of reflection and action—what Freire calls "praxis"—is key to breaking the cycle of oppression.
His central argument is that education must be rooted in the lived experiences of the oppressed. When learners begin to read not only the word but also the world around them, they become aware of their condition and recognize the possibility of change. In this way, education is not neutral—it either serves to maintain existing systems of domination, or it becomes a tool for liberation.
Freire believes that true education empowers individuals to become agents of their own lives and of social transformation. It encourages people to ask difficult questions, challenge injustices, and collectively imagine a more just and humane society. Therefore, education is not simply about gaining technical knowledge or passing exams; it is a political and ethical act aimed at humanization—the recovery of dignity, agency, and critical consciousness.
John Dewey, an American philosopher, psychologist, and educational reformer, whose ideas have been influential in education and social reform, was one of the most prominent thinkers of the early 20th century, and his work has had a lasting impact on the field of education, in his influential work The School and Society (1899, University of Chicago Press), argues that schools should not be isolated institutions disconnected from the realities of life. Instead, they must reflect the structure and values of the society in which they exist, serving as miniature communities where students engage in real-life experiences. Dewey believed that when education is too focused on rote memorisation and abstract information, it fails to prepare students for the actual challenges and responsibilities of life. He saw this kind of schooling as artificial and detached, producing individuals who may pass exams but lack the practical skills and social awareness needed to thrive.
For Dewey, learning must be rooted in experience. He insisted that children learn best when they are actively involved in tasks that are meaningful and connected to their world. Whether through hands-on projects, problem-solving activities, or collaboration with peers, Dewey saw education as a dynamic and interactive process. This experiential learning, he believed, fosters curiosity, initiative, and critical thinking—all essential for personal growth and character development.
Moreover, Dewey emphasized the role of education in shaping moral and social values. He argued that schools should cultivate a sense of responsibility, cooperation, and empathy in students. Education, in his view, was not just about acquiring knowledge but about becoming a person who can live and work well with others. This social dimension of education was central to his philosophy because he saw democracy not just as a form of government, but as a way of life that requires participation, dialogue, and shared values.
Dewey argued that in a democratic society, individuals must be capable of thinking independently, respecting diverse perspectives, and contributing constructively to the common good. Education, therefore, is how people are prepared to engage in this kind of society. Without education that fosters these capacities, democracy becomes fragile and unsustainable. In essence, Dewey believed that the survival and flourishing of a democratic society depends on the quality of its education system—one that empowers individuals not only to make a living, but to make a difference.
Jiddu Krishnamurti, in Education and the Significance of Life (1953, Harper & Brothers), presents a deeply reflective view of education as a journey toward self-understanding and discovering the true meaning of life. He argues that education should not be limited to the mere acquisition of knowledge or chasing external markers of success such as grades, diplomas, or wealth. Instead, Krishnamurti insists that the core purpose of education is to help individuals explore and comprehend their own minds, emotions, and fears. Through this inward journey, students can awaken to a deeper awareness of themselves and their place in the world. Krishnamurti criticises modern education systems for being overly focused on material success and academic achievement, which he sees as superficial and ultimately unsatisfying. He believes that such an education creates competitive, fragmented individuals who are disconnected from their own inner lives and the broader realities of existence. In his view, this emphasis on external success ignores the cultivation of wisdom, compassion, and a sense of inner peace. Without addressing the inner dimension of human experience, education remains incomplete and fails to nurture genuinely free and creative individuals.
He advocates for an education that integrates both intellectual growth and spiritual development. This means fostering curiosity, critical thinking, and creativity alongside qualities like mindfulness, empathy, and ethical understanding. Krishnamurti emphasizes that true education should liberate individuals from conditioning and dogma, allowing them to think independently and live with integrity. In this way, education becomes a holistic process that shapes a whole human being — one who is intellectually alert, emotionally balanced, and spiritually aware.
Krishnamurti’s argument is that education must transcend conventional goals and serve as a transformative process. It is through this transformation that individuals can find real meaning in life, not by conforming to societal expectations, but by discovering their authentic selves and living harmoniously with others and the world around them.
David Orr, in his essay “What Is Education For?” included in Earth in Mind (1994, Island Press), argues strongly that education should aim to cultivate whole human beings rather than merely training workers for the economy. He criticises contemporary education systems for their narrow focus on producing graduates who can fill jobs, often at the expense of broader intellectual, ethical, and ecological understanding. Orr contends that reducing education to workforce preparation overlooks the fundamental purpose of education: to develop individuals who are thoughtful, responsible, and capable of engaging meaningfully with the complex challenges of the world.
Orr questions the prevailing assumption that education’s primary goal is economic productivity. Instead, he insists that education must also nurture a deep awareness of environmental and social realities. He asks, “What is education for if not to prepare people to live wisely and well within the limits of the Earth and society?” By posing this question, Orr challenges educators and society at large to reconsider what knowledge and skills truly matter.
He argues that education should foster critical thinking, ethical reflection, and a sense of stewardship for the planet. This means helping students understand their interconnectedness with nature and other people, encouraging them to become active citizens who can contribute to a sustainable and just future. Orr’s vision of education is holistic: it must attend to intellectual growth, moral development, and ecological consciousness simultaneously.
Ultimately, David Orr argues that education’s real purpose transcends job training. It is about empowering individuals to live meaningful lives, to act responsibly within their communities and the environment, and to face the world’s problems with insight and courage. Education, in his view, should prepare human beings—not just workers—to thrive in a complex and fragile world.
In his 1947 essay “The Purpose of Education,” Martin Luther King Jr. emphasises that education should not only develop a person’s intellectual abilities but also cultivate their moral character. He argues that true education involves teaching individuals to think both intensively and critically, meaning that students should be encouraged to engage deeply with ideas, analyse them rigorously, and question assumptions. However, King insists that intellectual development alone is insufficient if it is not accompanied by ethical guidance.
King warns that education without a foundation in moral values can produce individuals who are highly intelligent but lack compassion, integrity, or a sense of justice. Such individuals may use their intelligence for selfish or harmful purposes, potentially becoming destructive forces in society. Therefore, he believes that education must strive to balance the cultivation of the mind with the formation of character.
For King, the ultimate goal of education is to nurture individuals who are not only knowledgeable and capable of critical thinking but who also possess a strong moral compass. This combination empowers people to use their intelligence responsibly, contribute positively to society, and work toward justice and equality. In essence, King’s argument is that education should produce well-rounded human beings—those who can think clearly and act ethically—because intellect without morality can be dangerous, while morality without intellect can be weak. Together, they form the foundation for meaningful and transformative education.
After completing education, a person usually gets a diploma. So, what is the purpose of a diploma? A diploma, or certificate, is awarded after completing formal education such as elementary school, junior high, senior high, or university because it serves as a tangible recognition of achievement and progress. It symbolises that a student has successfully gone through a structured learning process, met specific academic standards, and gained a certain level of knowledge or competence. Without such a document, it would be difficult to prove that someone has received a particular education or mastered certain skills.
The purpose of a diploma goes beyond simply being a piece of paper. It acts as a passport in the academic and professional world. For instance, someone who finishes high school cannot enroll in a university without first presenting proof of graduation. Likewise, in many job markets, employers use diplomas as a basic filter to ensure applicants meet minimum educational requirements. While the diploma doesn’t capture everything a person has learned or how capable they truly are, it still serves as a common, standardised way to measure educational attainment.
Furthermore, diplomas play a role in personal motivation and social recognition. For many students, receiving a diploma feels like reaching a milestone or completing a chapter in life. It provides a sense of accomplishment and validation after years of effort, late nights, and exams. In ceremonies like graduations, the act of receiving a diploma becomes a symbolic moment that marks growth, transition, and readiness for the next phase—whether that’s further study, work, or another life pursuit.
In short, diplomas exist as proof, passport, and personal reward. They help structure the education system, support professional and academic transitions, and offer a symbolic moment of closure and pride.
Randall Collins, in his 1979 book Credentialism and Educational Reform, published by Academic Press, provides a detailed analysis of how diplomas and academic credentials function beyond mere proof of academic ability. Collins argues that credentials serve as powerful tools of social legitimacy and recognition, marking an individual’s qualifications in the eyes of both educational institutions and society at large. According to him, an academic certificate or diploma is not just a confirmation that someone has mastered a certain body of knowledge or skills; it also acts as a social symbol that conveys status, trustworthiness, and eligibility for specific social roles, especially in the labour market.
Collins explains that in modern societies, where formal education is a primary pathway to professional and social advancement, credentials help to organise access to jobs and careers by providing a standardised measure of competence and legitimacy. However, he also points out that the significance of credentials extends beyond skill validation: they function as social markers that can influence one’s social standing and opportunities. This means that having a diploma can elevate an individual’s perceived social rank and open doors in competitive environments, regardless of the actual practical skills acquired.
Furthermore, Collins argues that the credentialing system can perpetuate social inequalities because it often reflects and reinforces existing social hierarchies. Those who have greater access to educational resources are more likely to obtain credentials, which in turn secure their place in higher social strata. Therefore, credentials play a dual role: they legitimize individual achievement but also serve as gatekeepers that maintain social order by controlling who gets access to certain privileges and roles.
Randall Collins’s argument emphasizes that educational credentials are not simply about confirming knowledge or skills; they are deeply embedded in social structures as symbols of status and mechanisms of social control within the workforce and society.
In Fake Degrees and Fraudulent Credentials in Higher Education (2023), edited by Sarah Elaine Eaton and Jamie J. Carmichael, the authors explore the alarming rise of credential fraud in global higher education systems and its far-reaching consequences. The book reveals that academic fraud takes on many forms—ranging from counterfeit degrees and diploma mills to systemic cheating during admissions—and each element poses a threat to the core values of education: integrity, merit, and trust.
The editors explain that fake degrees are often produced by underground networks or unregulated online platforms, allowing individuals to obtain seemingly legitimate academic credentials without any formal study. These documents are frequently used to secure jobs, promotions, or social status, even though the holders lack the knowledge or skills associated with the qualifications they claim. This undermines the legitimacy of real credentials and puts others—especially in critical professions such as medicine, engineering, or education—at serious risk.
Diploma mills are a more institutionalised form of fraud. These so-called “schools” operate as businesses rather than educational institutions, offering degrees in exchange for payment with little or no academic requirements. The book highlights how these entities often masquerade as legitimate universities, complete with fake websites, transcripts, and even accreditation bodies. The growing digitalization of education and the global pressure to "have a degree" have only made diploma mills more appealing and harder to detect.
Another issue discussed is fraud in admissions, where applicants present false documents, exaggerate extracurricular achievements, or use unethical agents to manipulate the system. In highly competitive environments, these dishonest practices give some students unfair advantages while excluding more deserving candidates. Eaton and Carmichael argue that this distorts the principle of equal opportunity in education.
The work also delves into document tampering, such as the alteration of transcripts and certificates, where individuals modify or forge academic records to improve grades or add fictitious coursework. This manipulation not only corrupts the individual's personal academic record but also affects institutional reputation when the fraud is discovered.
Collectively, these forms of credential fraud create a ripple effect that degrades the integrity of higher education. The authors warn that when fake credentials become widespread, they erode public trust in universities, devalue the accomplishments of honest graduates, and contribute to a system in which paper qualifications can be bought rather than earned. Institutions are then forced to invest more resources in verification processes and lose credibility in the eyes of employers, policymakers, and the public.
Ultimately, the book argues for a global, systemic response to this issue, calling for tighter regulations, increased awareness, and ethical leadership across the educational sector. Credential fraud, as Eaton and Carmichael contend, is not just an academic problem—it is a societal threat.
In the end, education is not merely a tool for acquiring certificates, climbing social ladders, or securing employment. It is a profound human endeavor—one that shapes how we see ourselves, how we engage with others, and how we participate in the world. True education ignites curiosity, nurtures empathy, and empowers individuals not just to make a living, but to make a life filled with meaning and responsibility. It is not about producing standardized minds but cultivating unique souls who can think critically, act ethically, and dream boldly. When we ask, “What is education for?” we are really asking, “What kind of future do we want to build—and who do we want to become in the process?” The answer, then, is not found in the diploma alone, but in the journey of becoming fully human.
When a person grows through meaningful and thoughtful education, they begin to understand that knowledge is not merely about collecting facts or memorizing information. Instead, they realize that the heart of learning lies in asking the right questions. True education nurtures the ability to think critically, to reflect deeply, and to recognize that not everything is as it appears on the surface.
This is why thinkers like Socrates emphasized the importance of questioning, famously stating, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Education, in its most transformative sense, teaches individuals to challenge assumptions, to investigate hidden structures in society, and to constantly seek truth rather than settle for easy answers.
Paulo Freire echoed this in Pedagogy of the Oppressed, where he argued that education should raise consciousness—encouraging learners to become aware of their world and empowered to change it. So yes, the more a person grows within a robust educational environment, the more they develop the wisdom to ask, not just “what is the answer,” but “what is the real question I should be asking?”
