The Ministry of Science and Higher Education announces that 627,000 government-funded spots have been allocated to universities this year. They stress that there will be enough seats for the majority of 11th graders, noting that there are even fewer graduates to fill them—only around 620,000. Is universal higher education moving toward being free for all? Is this a sign of near-communist policy shifts? What about the concerns that in some programs, even the old auto mechanic vocational track wouldn’t qualify for budget funding if the average score falls below a certain threshold? And what of the worries that there might be places available only with payment, lacking qualified instructors or courses?
In truth, a deeply paradoxical situation has emerged in the education system. Education is becoming more costly even as officials proclaim a goal of broader access and less commercialization. The burden shifts toward learners through online courses, intensive programs, language camps, creative workshops, and other general development opportunities. Payment comes in many forms: money, time, or opportunities foregone. Even those who try to avoid spending still face costs—they find themselves in a system where training a third-round student to a third-round student remains an ongoing hurdle. Free meals, free beauty services, free crafts—none of these exist in practice. Incremental increases in state university places will not instantly resolve the underlying issues. Even if one and a half million places were created, the effect would still be muted. They may proclaim a widening deficit at technical universities, but the question remains.
What is happening here? The government appears to be confronting a shortage of skilled professionals, especially engineers and doctors. Yet the realization came too late. Opening university doors wide only helps if the vast majority of youth possess the math, physics, and chemistry skills to qualify. Admission thresholds have been lowered in some institutions, but how far can they be pushed? Last year, some universities set entrance marks as high as 120-150 points across three exams. There are suspicions that many underperforming students are redirected before finishing school, because advanced science can feel like torture for a struggling learner. It can resemble teaching string theory to a middle school student.
Even scores around 40-50 points on exams are a milestone for many. These numbers aren’t always reflected in official statistics, yet it is evident that a large share of high school graduates in major regions choose not to take exams in the 11th grade, often leaving after the ninth. Today, roughly 60% of young people take this path. In major cities, the share is smaller, while in rural areas it is higher. In many state schools, tenth grade enrollment can be a fraction of the original intake. In that sense, the fact that about 627,000 government-funded university spots, with 73% distributed regionally, reads as a pointed critique. The places may exist, but they risk staying unfilled. And even articles about scores around 50 may not get written with fervor. A handful of graduates with genuine knowledge and ambition will bypass these budget slots if their families can afford private programs at prestigious institutions.
Meanwhile, the fate of 60% of ninth-grade graduates becomes especially interesting. Those who skip university often appear to save on education expenses, yet that choice isn’t free. Just like universities, old technical schools that once admitted students by exam now function more like colleges, and the old system of vocational training is arguably even tougher. Free access here tends to favor the bright and well-prepared, while average students may pay higher fees or face more hurdles. It’s one thing to be competitive; it’s another to afford the competition.
Consider what kind of C-grade students are pointed to budget-funded technical paths when even a 4.2–4.5 average can still lead to college programs or budget seats, and sometimes even higher scores may not suffice. If no one officially leaves school in pairs, which losers are being discussed? Let’s be candid. Imagine a student who did not master basic arithmetic in ninth grade and faces the tests multiple times; if they still manage to pass, it does not erase the challenges they faced. If some students benefit from subsidies or parental influence to secure a favorable outcome, a perception of unfairness can take root. Everyone seems to sense what’s happening. The mood is heavy and the conversations are numerous. People press on.
At the same time, financial help remains available for those who manage to meet the minimum requirements. If a family can cover the costs for two courses or two subjects, the student may still have a path forward. And while some educational leaders seek to reduce costs, others push back, arguing that investment in teachers and resources is essential. The reality is that many families must allocate funds for living expenses, textbooks, and classroom materials, which can be a stretch even in the capital. For families in more remote regions, the burden can be far heavier. The possibility of an atlas or other essential learning tools becoming a luxury highlights the ongoing tension between stated goals and real-world affordability.
The paradox persists: even those with limited means feel the pull of education, while the system repeatedly asserts improvements and affordability. It contrasts sharply with some Western models where families start saving early and graduates carry education loans for decades. Here, a distinctly local path has shaped the approach—one that favors a mix of public funding and private payment, a blend that keeps many dreams within reach only for some and out of reach for others. The direction of this path remains uncertain and the outcomes unpredictable.
The author’s perspective reflects a personal view and does not necessarily align with official positions.