There is a fundamental contradiction in the way Kenya talks about research and the way it sometimes treats those who produce it. On the one hand, universities are expected to generate knowledge, solve societal problems, support innovation and provide evidence for public policy.
Government agencies increasingly invoke the
language of evidence-based policymaking. On the other hand, the cost of
producing that evidence is steadily being pushed onto the very people expected
to generate it.
The latest revision of research permit fees by the National Commission for Science, Technology and Innovation (Nacosti), effective October 1, should therefore concern universities, students, researchers and policymakers alike.
Under the revised schedule, a Kenyan postgraduate student pursuing a master's degree will pay Sh6,000, up from Sh2,000. A PhD student will pay Sh10,000, also up from Sh2,000.
In percentage terms, that represents a 200 per cent increase for master's students and a 400 per cent increase for PhD students.
These are not insignificant adjustments for students who are already paying tuition, examination fees, research supervision charges, transport, accommodation, data collection and analysis costs, among other expenses.
The issue is not whether research should be regulated. Clearly, research involving human participants, communities, sensitive information and national interests requires appropriate ethical and regulatory oversight.
The bigger question is: Should the cost of producing knowledge for national development rise this steeply, particularly for students undertaking research as a requirement for completing their degrees?
Research is not a luxury. It is one of the principal functions of the university. A university is not merely a place where students attend lectures and sit examinations.
It is a knowledge-generating institution. Its research function is fundamental to understanding society, identifying problems, testing solutions and informing development.
Postgraduate education is particularly important in this regard. A master's dissertation or PhD thesis is not simply an academic exercise designed to keep a student busy until graduation. Properly conceived and executed, it generates empirical knowledge that can inform practice, policy and future research.
The data generated by these researchers is therefore a raw material for sustainable development. We often talk about natural resources as the raw materials of economic development. But in a knowledge economy, data plays an equally important role.
Governments need reliable data to understand poverty, unemployment, ageing, health, education, urbanisation, gender inequality, environmental degradation, migration and countless other social and economic processes.
Without data, policy becomes speculation. Without research, planning becomes guesswork. Without evidence, even well-intentioned government programmes can miss their targets.
This is why those who help generate reliable data should be supported rather than unnecessarily burdened. Why should such a researcher be treated primarily as a revenue source?
There is a deeper policy question here. If government benefits from knowledge generated by universities, shouldn't government also invest in the process through which that knowledge is generated?
Universities
themselves are public-interest institutions. Their research contributes to
national capacity. Their postgraduate students are tomorrow's researchers,
academics, policymakers, administrators and development practitioners.
A punitive regulatory regime risks creating precisely the opposite of what Kenya says it wants: fewer researchers, smaller studies, reduced fieldwork and students choosing research questions based not on national importance but on what they can afford.
The danger is particularly serious for social science research. Much of the evidence needed to understand Kenyan society cannot be generated from a laboratory. It requires going into communities, interviewing people, observing institutions, administering questionnaires and engaging groups that are often geographically dispersed and economically marginalised. Every additional regulatory cost makes such research harder.
There is also a question of equity. Wealthier students and institutions may absorb increased research costs. Students from less privileged backgrounds may not.
A fee that appears modest from an institutional perspective can be substantial to an individual postgraduate student.
This is why the revised fees should be reconsidered, especially for Kenyan students undertaking research as part of university degree requirements.
There are alternatives. Nacosti and universities could develop a subsidised or substantially reduced research permit regime for postgraduate academic research.
Universities could negotiate institutional arrangements with Nacosti. Government could treat postgraduate research as part of national research capacity-building and support it accordingly.
The principle should be simple: regulation should protect the integrity of research without becoming a barrier to conducting research.
Kenya cannot simultaneously demand evidence-based policymaking and make the generation of evidence prohibitively expensive.
We cannot tell universities to become engines of innovation while making research more costly. We cannot tell postgraduate students to generate knowledge for national development and then place additional financial obstacles in their path.
Nacosti has an important regulatory mandate. But regulation must be balanced with the national imperative to expand Kenya's knowledge base.
The question is not whether research should pay its way. The question is whether Kenya can afford to make research increasingly unaffordable. A country aspiring to a knowledge-driven economy should be investing in its researchers, not pricing them out of the field.
Research permits should regulate research—not punish researchers.
