Why the SN Category in Kashmir University Admissions Must Go
Ummar Jamal
The University of Kashmir is no stranger to criticism, but one criticism has stubbornly clung to its reputation is favouritism. While several factors contribute to this culture of nepotism, one policy that embodies it most clearly is the SN category.
Under this category, one seat in every academic program is reserved for the children of serving or retired permanent employees of the university. What appears on paper as a minor concession has, in reality, entrenched insider privilege and legitimized favouritism in ways that have damaged the university’s credibility. Over time, the SN category has deepened the insider–outsider divide, reinforcing the perception that Kashmir University runs less on merit and more on connections.
At first glance, a single seat per program may seem negligible. But across dozens of courses and departments, these “single seats” accumulate into multiple privileged pathways for a select group. Students from university families thus gain opportunities that other deserving candidates are denied. For an institution already criticized for lacking transparency, this practice further erodes public trust.
From the perspective of organizational theory, the SN category is more than just an admission policy—it is a mechanism for reproducing privilege. The French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu argued that institutions transmit “cultural capital” that extends beyond formal credentials. This is exactly what happens here. SN students inherit not only easier access to admission but also insider knowledge, networks, and a cushion of protection that ordinary students cannot access. Their university journey is shaped by advantages embedded in their family’s employment, rather than their own individual merit.
The impact of this becomes visible in classrooms and corridors alike. When confronted with academic difficulties, SN students often invoke family ties, reminding teachers that their parent works in the Vice Chancellor’s office, the registrar’s office, or teaches in another department. What begins as a plea often carries an undertone of intimidation. Professors are subtly pressured to bend rules. This corrodes academic standards, creating a culture where performance takes a back seat to relationships.
In practice, this has created two parallel universities under the same roof. SN students navigate an accommodating, supportive system, while outsiders face stricter enforcement of rules and regulations. Administrative staff, many of whom are themselves products of similar privilege, reinforce this divide. Paperwork is cleared faster, attendance rules are applied leniently, and regulations suddenly appear flexible when it comes to SN students. This unequal treatment is visible to everyone, deepening resentment among the ordinary students.
The consequences are far-reaching. Such dual systems of privilege undermine institutional legitimacy. Students lose faith in the fairness of admissions and evaluations, while society at large begins to see the university not as a meritocratic institution but as a family-run club. Once trust is corroded, the quality of education suffers, and the reputation of the university declines both locally and nationally.
From the standpoint of social justice, the SN category is also indefensible. University employees already enjoy stable government jobs, social status, and resources to educate their children. Granting them further preferential access to higher education amounts to what economists call “opportunity hoarding”—where those already advantaged monopolize benefits meant for the wider public. In a place like Kashmir, where opportunities for quality higher education are already scarce and competition is intense, this hoarding is not just unfair but a betrayal of the university’s duty as a public institution.
Equally significant is the fact that this policy is outdated. Across the world Or even nationally , modern universities have abandoned such insider privileges. Public universities exist to serve society. They don’t act as patronage networks for their own employees. But at Kashmir University, the SN category sustains a cycle of nepotism: today’s SN beneficiaries become tomorrow’s faculty and administrators, who then preserve the same advantages for their children. The result is a self-reinforcing system of protection where genuine reform is systematically resisted.
It is time for a clear and uncompromising decision. The University of Kashmir must abolish the SN category altogether. The fairest way forward would be to halt new admissions under this quota, while allowing existing beneficiaries to complete their programs without additional privileges.
Ultimately, the debate around the SN category is not simply about admissions—it is about the university’s identity and integrity. Does Kashmir University wish to continue as a bastion of inherited privilege, or will it transform into an institution worthy of public trust? Its credibility, and its ability to contribute meaningfully to the intellectual development of the region, rests on this choice.
( Author is Kashmir based columnist and National President of J&K Students Association. He tweets at ummar_jamal and can be reached at umarjamal968@gmail.com)
