A path for everyone to thrive

“NOT everyone is meant for university,” I blurted out one afternoon in the chief economist’s office at my last job before retiring.

The room fell silent. He and the economist, both polished products of British postgraduate education, looked at me as if I’d just insulted the Queen.

Their stunned expressions caught me off guard. I was the senior economist, and for a moment, I wondered: Had I just committed professional heresy?

Maybe I should have qualified my statement with “and that’s not a problem,” but I believed then, as I do now, that it’s a truth we need to say out loud.

A lecturer’s reflection

I didn’t always see things this way. Years before that conversation in the chief economist’s office, I spent time as a college economics lecturer. It was in the classroom that the truth began to crystallise. Among my students, I began to notice a pattern. They fell broadly into three groups.

The first group, small in number, comprised the true scholars. For them, university was a natural habitat. In many ways, they embodied what universities were historically conceived to nurture: critical inquiry, intellectual exploration and the pursuit of knowledge beyond immediate utility.

The second group formed the overwhelming majority. These students were capable and diligent, but their relationship with university was transactional.

They were there for the credential. They didn’t dislike learning, but they were often disengaged from the abstract nature of academic work. Their focus was pragmatic: What job will this get me?

Then there was a third group. These students struggled with the demands of university life.

They found little joy in lectures or textbooks, and the academic environment often left them feeling inadequate. Their intelligence was not lacking, it was simply of a different kind. They were miscast.

Surely, there had to be a better way, a higher education system that embraced different kinds of learners. A system that recognised their strengths, respected their potential, and prepared them for meaningful careers.

To be fair, universities have been pushed to become glorified trade schools. And they’ve had to adapt to survive, offering marketable degrees, vocational modules and industry tie-ins to meet the demands of a credential-hungry society.

Germany’s dual system: Model of dignity

Germany offers a compelling example of what educational pluralism can look like in practice. Its dual education system, built around apprenticeships (Ausbildung), affirms that vocational training can be a deliberate, respected choice.

Roughly half of young Germans enter apprenticeships, which combine classroom instruction with paid, hands-on experience in fields ranging from engineering and information technology to hospitality and healthcare.

This system produces confident, competent professionals who are job-ready from day one. Employers are deeply involved in curriculum design and training, ensuring that what students learn is directly aligned with industry needs. Apprentices are paid, protected and often hired full-time after graduation.

In Germany, master carpenters and precision machinists command genuine respect. Their path bypasses university yet delivers fulfilling, well-paid careers. The system’s strength shines through as giants like Siemens, BMW, and Bosch build core talent pipelines via apprenticeships.

Malaysia’s TVET moment

Malaysia has long recognised the value of vocational education. For decades, policymakers have spoken of the need to strengthen Technical and Vocational Education and Training (TVET) as a pillar of national development.

Yet, despite this rhetorical commitment, progress on implementation and outcomes has been uneven.

That may finally be changing. In Budget 2026, the government allocated RM7.9bil to TVET, a record investment and a continuation of an upward trend in funding over recent years.

This growing financial commitment is part of a broader strategic vision outlined in the National TVET Policy 2030.

The policy emphasises aligning training programmes with Industry 4.0, strengthening partnerships between institutions and employers, and improving quality assurance and accreditation. Perhaps most crucially, it aims to position TVET as a viable career pathway in its own right.

These reforms are timely. Malaysia’s youth unemployment rate remains high, and many university graduates find themselves underemployed or working in fields unrelated to their studies. At the same time, employers in key sectors report persistent shortages of skilled workers.

TVET could be the bridge between these mismatched realities.

The Malaysia Education Blueprint (Higher Education) 2025-2035 offers a timely endorsement of this broader vision. It recognises that the future of education lies in a flexible, inclusive ecosystem.

By elevating TVET, embracing micro-credentials, and aligning learning with industry needs, the blueprint affirms what I once blurted out in a moment of professional heresy: not everyone is meant for university – and that’s not a problem. It’s a strength.

Call for educational pluralism

If we are serious about building a resilient, inclusive economy, we must stop treating university as the only path to success. We must invest in TVET with prestige.

We must tell new stories. Stories of the welder who became a factory supervisor; of the chef who trained through an apprenticeship and now runs a thriving restaurant.

We must also ensure that TVET is not a dead end. Pathways must be flexible, allowing students to move between vocational and academic tracks. Lifelong learning must be a structural reality.

Of course, challenges remain. Many parents still see university as the safest route to upward mobility, and concerns about the quality and consistency of TVET programmes persist. But these are not reasons to abandon the project.

The tide may already be turning. According to Deputy Prime Minister Datuk Seri Dr Ahmad Zahid Hamidi, 54.3% of secondary school leavers now choose to continue their studies in the TVET field. A new generation is beginning to see value in alternative pathways, and it’s up to us to meet them there.

The question is no longer whether everyone should go to university. The real question is: Can we build a society where everyone has a path to thrive, where every kind of intelligence is valued, and every kind of work is dignified?