Prof Geoffrey Williams, in his article entitled “Yawning through the national education plan” dated 23 January 2026, calls Malaysia’s National Education Plan 2026–2035 (MNEP 2026–2035), especially its Malaysia Higher Education Plan 2025-2035 (MHEP 2026–2035), a “monumental meh”. That phrase may be clever copy, but it is not serious policy analysis.

When stripped of its sarcasm, his article reveals more theatre than substance, more insinuation than evidence and more ideological preference than engagement with the actual document.

If we are to debate the future of Malaysian higher education, let us at least begin with intellectual discipline.

The “Wasteful Launch” Allegation

Williams suggests that money spent launching MNEP 2026–2035 could have been better spent on salaries and student welfare. That is an easy line to write, but where is the data? This is pure insinuation, not analysis.

MHEP 2026–2035 explicitly elevates student wellbeing and support systems as a core early-phase priority, including mental health, Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI) frameworks and restructuring the National Higher Education Fund Corporation (PTPTN) into a more accessible, needs-based funding system (“Bank Siswa” direction in the roadmap).

At page 36, the document’s implementation roadmap explicitly flags “promoting inclusivity and mental well-being” in Wave 1 (Ignite). It also lists “Enhance PTPTN’s structure for improved accessibility: Focus on repayment rates, savings, and need-based loan distribution”.

So the claim that money is being spent “instead of welfare” collapses when welfare is written into the early execution roadmap.

What the article must do if it wants to be credible is produce budget figures showing the launch cost vs. welfare allocations. But it provides none.

If there is evidence of budgetary misallocation, present the numbers. Without them, this is not fiscal critique; it is rhetorical posturing.

A ten-year plan in the age of AI?

Williams argues that in a world transformed by AI within months, a ten-year plan is naïve. This argument collapses immediately upon reading MHEP 2026–2035.

MHEP 2026–2035 explicitly treats itself as adaptive and staged, not a rigid prophecy. At page 42, it calls itself a “living document” that “adapts to emerging trends and challenges to maintain its relevance and effectiveness”.

At pages 35-41, it structures its implementation into three waves (“Ignite 2025”, “Propel 2026–2030”, “Elevate 2031–2035”) precisely to allow sequencing, adaptation, recalibration and institutional learning. It explicitly recognises transformation, uncertainty and systemic evolution.

Thus, the claim that a ten-year plan cannot handle rapid change is directly contradicted by the plan’s own architecture: staged, sequenced, and capacity-linked implementation.

Planning for ten years does not mean pretending nothing will change. It means preparing institutions to change without collapsing.

To suggest that rapid technological change invalidates long-term planning is intellectually unserious. In fact, volatility makes structured planning more necessary, not less.

Also, comparing education planning to Stalin and Mao is not “insight”. It is rhetorical hyperbole masquerading as historical analogy.

Patronage? Show us the mechanism

The article accuses MHEP 2026–2035 gives “no prioritisation of students or academics” and benefits “overpaid owners, leaders and senior managers”.

This is an evidence-free smear. No structural analysis is offered. No governance provisions are cited. No incentive frameworks are dissected. No remuneration models are examined.

MHEP 2026–2035 repeatedly frames reform around system governance, accountability and capability-building, not “making leaders richer”. It also emphasises student-centred priorities (wellbeing, flexible learning, employability quality, funding access).

MHEP 2026–2035 documents engagement with thousands of stakeholders and references more than 100 supporting policy and analytical documents. It emphasises governance strengthening, system capability building and phased implementation to avoid execution fatigue.

For example, at page 35, the roadmap language is explicitly about avoiding “system overload and execution fatigue” and sequencing reforms responsibly. That is the opposite of a “patronage cascade” story.

If someone accuses the plan of being a “cash grab,” the minimum burden is to show a mechanism – pay structures, contract provisions, incentive schemes – yet the article provides none.

The AI fantasy of the “dead university”

Williams declares the standard university model “functionally dead, replaced by free online content delivered by AI”. This is Silicon Valley futurism masquerading as policy realism.

Universities are not merely content distributors. They are accreditation authorities, research institutions, professional training centres, quality assurance systems and custodians of academic standards.

Online content does not replace clinical supervision in medicine, laboratory research ecosystems, engineering accreditation, legal training or doctoral supervision. Suggesting otherwise oversimplifies institutional functions to the point of caricature.

This is tech-utopian exaggeration dressed up as inevitability. Even if online learning expands, MHEP 2026–2035’s roadmap explicitly, at page 32, addresses flexible learning pathways and micro-credentials, i.e., it’s not stuck in a “fixed semester only” fantasy.

When MHEP 2026–2035 itself incorporates flexibility, micro-credentials, evolving delivery models and system agility then the article criticises a rigidity that the document itself does not exhibit.

Rankings, foreign students and fear narratives

The article warns of excessive reliance on foreign students and implies unhealthy commercialisation. Yet it does not engage with MHEP 2026–2035’s actual positioning of international enrolment as part of ecosystem diversification.

Nor does it provide evidence of the dramatic financial diversion it alleges toward rankings and marketing credentials when it says, “Millions wasted on foreign marketing credentials, ratings and rankings … diverts from real quality”.

Again, this is an assertion without proof. MHEP 2026–2035 does cite international ranking positioning as a baseline (e.g., QS references appear in the baseline table), but a baseline reference is not evidence of ‘millions wasted’ or a policy of “buying credentials”.

Benchmarking and positioning are standard features of modern higher education systems globally. If the claim is that Malaysia has overspent or misallocated resources, then produce the financial breakdown. Without it, this is conjecture wrapped in cynicism.

If he’s alleging spending and diversion, he must show procurement costs, contracts, programme allocations or at least official expenditure lines. But he provides none.

Excel in rankings for academic fraud and retractions

Williams claims “Malaysian universities excel in rankings for academic fraud and retractions”.

This sentence, however, is academically irresponsible as written. It’s a broad-brush accusation (“Malaysian universities”) with no dataset, ranking system definition, timeframe, comparative benchmark or even a single source.

MHEP 2026–2035, meanwhile, positions reforms around quality assurance and credibility (at page 31, for instance, it repeatedly frames international reputation around “quality and innovation” and “robust quality assurance practices”).

Hence, while the official plan is moving toward strengthening quality assurance and system credibility, the article throws blanket scandal language with no evidentiary burden met.

Labour market statistics without policy engagement

Williams cites graduate underemployment and low median starting salaries as evidence of failure. He claims “100 per cent employability benchmarks ignore underemployment; median starting salary RM2,000 … below minimum wage”.

However, quoting unnamed labour data without analysing how MHEP 2026–2035 addresses employability, Technical and Vocational Education and Training (TVET) integration and wage progression is incomplete.

He asserts the plan ignores wage outcomes, but MHEP 2026–2035 situates higher education reform within broader economic transformation goals. For instance, it explicitly links TVET effectiveness to fair wages and programme refinement.

If the argument is that the solutions are insufficient, then engage with the specific mechanisms proposed. Do not imply absence without textual examination.

Vagueness is not vision

Perhaps the most revealing moment in the article is when Williams concedes that his own alternative – an accreditation-only model, independent academics in open markets, enrichment-based learning – is “rather vague”.

Williams claims “Policy must shift from ‘industry ready’ to enrichment and self-fulfilment … accreditation-only model”. However, he himself admits it is “rather vague and lacks specific ideas”.

That’s basically conceding he is criticising a structured plan using an intentionally unstructured alternative. That is not a serious policy critique.

MHEP 2026–2035 is explicit about building a staged reform architecture and flexible learning.

A national education framework cannot be vague. It must be structured, staged and measurable. It must specify governance mechanisms, sequencing, capacity-building and accountability. Vagueness is not boldness. It is avoidance.

Hence, he attacks specificity while proposing a deliberately non-specific future model. That is not critique; it is abdication.

Planning makes no sense?

Williams claims “Planning makes no sense … instead: less bureaucratic systems, more autonomy and academic freedom”.

But this is where his critique becomes self-defeating as MHEP 2026–2035 explicitly includes governance reform language consistent with autonomy/freedom framing.

It talks about governance strengthening via implementation of One Higher Education Act framework (OHEA language appears in the roadmap section). It also includes “autonomy”/governance strengthening themes across the transformation waves.

So he is condemning the plan for not doing X while the plan is already structured to do X (governance reform and capacity-building sequencing).

Copy-cat ‘thrusts and packages’?

Williams claims “They said they saved money by excluding foreign consultants … but it’s still copy-cat ‘thrusts and packages’”.

Again, this is bad-faith framing. MHEP 2026–2035 explicitly documents a large consultative development process, including more than 100 documents, engagement with over 8,000 stakeholders, and a structured multi-phase development approach.

Calling that “copy-cat” without engaging the content substitutes sneering for serious analysis.

Even if a plan uses common structural formatting (thrusts/pillars/packages), format is not equivalent to content. The article attacks the container while ignoring what is inside.

An economist’s lens is not an education blueprint

Granted that Williams is an accomplished economist and higher education manager. His background is in economic policy, management systems and institutional performance metrics. That lens prioritises incentives, efficiency and market responsiveness.

However, while it is a valuable perspective, it is not the whole of education reform.

MHEP 2026–2035 is not a macroeconomic adjustment programme. It is a systemic transformation document integrating pedagogy, governance, student wellbeing, access and national development objectives.

Applying an economist’s scepticism to a comprehensive education reform framework is legitimate. Dismissing it because it does not conform to market minimalism is not.

The real issue

The real issue is not that MHEP 2026–2035 is beyond criticism. It is not. The real issue is that serious policy debate requires evidence, textual engagement and structural analysis.

Malaysia’s higher education system is confronting profound structural challenges in the like of technological disruption driven by artificial intelligence, persistent wage stagnation among graduates, intensifying global competition and entrenched institutional inertia.

These are systemic realities that demand serious policy engagement. But serious challenges require serious reform, not rhetorical flourish, not ideological posturing and certainly not clever dismissals masquerading as analysis.

If we are to criticise national policy, let us do so with intellectual rigour, empirical grounding and a sense of responsibility proportionate to the magnitude of the task at hand.

Instead, we are given punchlines. Calling a national reform framework a “monumental meh” may provoke reaction but it does not substitute for disciplined critique.

-- BERNAMA

Prof Dr Ahmad Martadha Mohamed is the Vice Chancellor of Universiti Utara Malaysia (UUM).