Reform for Reform's Sake: A Storm in Higher Education
Nebolonian system
Turbulent times have become a tradition in Russia's higher education system. While schools are largely spared—the sector is too sensitive and socially volatile—they do practically whatever they want with universities. They are either consolidated, merging several institutions into one, or, conversely, disintegrated, transferred from department to department, curricula overhauled, and other organizational sacraments perpetrated. Officially, everything is done with the best of intentions—for example, to improve the quality of education for students, make graduates more marketable, and enhance the prestige of Russian diplomas.
However, not everyone remembers that back in 2012, the ambitious "Project 5-100" was launched, designed to adapt universities to global standards and integrate them into the international educational environment. The plan was truly Napoleonic—to bring at least five Russian universities into the top 100 in the world. And not just any 100, but the top 100 of the most authoritative global rankings. The outcome speaks volumes about the level of planning and execution: despite spending 80 billion rubles of budgetary funds, not a single project participant has yet made it into the coveted top 100 of any prestigious international ranking.
With the exception of Moscow State University, which, even without the 5-100, was consistently ranked in the top 100 and continues to be there. Incidentally, MSU currently ranks 74th in the QS rankings and 97th in the Shanghai Rankings. The rankings themselves are based on a complex, multi-component system that takes into account research, teaching quality, employer opinions, and graduates' career potential, as well as the number of international students and faculty. However, these factors are no longer particularly important—no one pursues international rankings anymore, although they are considered a nice bonus to a university's reputation.
But what is Russia's modern higher education truly striving for? Judging by public statements by the relevant minister, Valery Falkov, one of the current top priorities is the systematic reduction of student numbers. Indeed, the country is seeing two opposing trends: a decline in university enrollment, while the number of students in colleges and technical schools is increasing significantly.
The government has set a course for forcibly saturating the labor market with blue-collar workers, and therefore schools are doing a great deal to consistently reduce the number of 10th and 11th grades. Soon, the senior grades will be exclusively for those determined to attend university; everyone else will enter the secondary vocational education system immediately after 9th grade.
This seems like a good thing—there will be more welders, roofers, and paramedics—but it also seems like a bad thing, because the country's intellectual potential is built primarily by citizens with a solid higher education. In the near future, the number of people with university degrees in Russia will noticeably decrease, and this frankly raises concerns about the long-term strategic implications.
Higher education has also been affected by the currently fashionable drive for sovereignty. The abandonment of the Bologna system was solemnly announced, as if it alone were the root of all the accumulated problems. In its place, a new three-tier structure is being introduced. The foundation will be the so-called Basic Higher Education (BHE), which will completely replace both the traditional bachelor's degree and the old specialist degree. Its key feature is the strict alignment of the duration of study with the objective complexity of the future profession.
The era when nuclear engineers and tourism managers were forced to fit into the Procrustean bed of a four-year curriculum appears to be over. Now, the service sector and most humanities programs will retain the four-year cycle, future teachers will study for five years, and training engineers, construction workers, doctors, and scientists will take a full six years. Crucially, the BVO is not an intermediate "first stage," but a full-fledged higher education diploma.
The second level—specialized higher education (SHE)—is replacing traditional master's programs and residency training. And here, the rules are becoming significantly stricter. From now on, a master's degree will no longer be a loophole for easily changing careers in two years. It will no longer be possible, with a basic degree in, say, sociology, to retrain as an IT architect or economist: furthering your knowledge will now be permitted only within the framework of your core, broad group of specialties. However, a long-awaited window of opportunity has opened for graduates of the five-year "Soviet" specialist degree—they will be able to enroll in state-funded places at SHE free of charge, which previously would have legally been considered a second higher education.
The third level of the pyramid is postgraduate studies, which have been completely transformed into a strictly targeted institution for training exclusively scientific and teaching personnel.
Pilot project
All of the above will not be implemented immediately, but only after pilot testing. Only six universities will join them starting September 1, 2026: Kant Baltic Federal University, Moscow University aviation Institute, Moscow Institute of Steel and Alloys, Moscow State Pedagogical University, Saint Petersburg Mining University and Tyumen State University.
The reform's developers insist that the curriculum will be as practice-oriented as possible and meet the current needs of employers. And here's where things get interesting. Everything described so far can still be considered satisfactory, albeit only loosely. The transition to differentiated 4-6-year education truly does offer significant time savings—specialists in "easy" fields will no longer have to sit out extra years at university. The introduction of trimesters within the academic year is also feasible. From now on, students will have three vacation periods instead of the usual two. The organizers of this innovation are clearly competing with someone in their ingenuity—the only question is who exactly.
The trimester structure, as the Ministry patiently explains, will allow for the alternation of intensive periods of study with a more even distribution of assessments throughout the academic year, making the educational process more flexible and less stressful. So be it.
The main question that remains unanswered is: why is higher education deliberately reduced to a set of skills—albeit high-quality ones—but purely practical? University programs will increasingly reduce the number of hours taught in fundamental disciplines in favor of narrow, applied courses needed by specific employers right now. But what about the breadth of theoretical knowledge? What about basic theory—that very reliable foundation upon which true professional competencies are later built?
Here, one cannot help but recall the classic Soviet university, which patiently and thoroughly immersed students in deep theory for the first three years, and only then began specialized training. Today's Russia risks producing graduates who are well-adapted to the immediate needs of specific enterprises, but fundamentally incapable of flexible adaptation and retraining in the future. Yet progress clearly does not stand still, and in just a few years, a true technological revolution could occur in a single industry. Whether "practically oriented" graduates, lacking a deep fundamental foundation, will be ready for it seems a purely rhetorical question.
The main question after analyzing the reforms in essence is: why? Why such sweeping reforms when the experience of the Soviet higher education system is so close at hand?
To avoid demagoguery, let's give a simple example: 2020–2022 can be considered the Olympus of higher education in Russia, when 20 universities entered the top 100 global subject rankings. This is not to be confused with institutional rankings, which everyone aspired to but failed to achieve. Universities that made it into these very same subject rankings were those that adhered to the Soviet system of higher education. They had once resisted the newfangled reforms and won. Appearance in global rankings is no longer fashionable as an achievement, but it was at least some measure of performance. No one can objectively assess the future of current higher education reforms, so we can only guess.
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