Part 15 of 17 in The Engaged Indian Teen
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the notion of lifelong learning. It’s a concept that seems to have become a buzzword, one of those phrases that people throw around without really unpacking what it means. But for me, it’s not just a catchphrase. It’s a conviction that has been shaped by my experiences both as an IVF specialist and as an angel investor.
A couple of weeks ago, I met a bright young founder who had a fantastic idea for an ed-tech startup. Her pitch was polished, her vision was clear, but what struck me most was her genuine curiosity. She reminded me of a patient I once had, a woman who, despite having faced multiple failures with IVF, chose to educate herself deeply about her condition. She would come to each consultation armed with questions, trying to understand every detail. Both individuals exhibited a thirst for knowledge that transcended their immediate goals. They were not just looking to solve a problem; they were learning as a way of life.
This brings me to the crux of what I want to discuss: our education system’s obsession with exams and rote learning. We’ve been conditioned to view learning as a means to an end—a mechanism to pass exams, get a degree, and secure a job. But what happens when the exams end? Will our children still know how to learn when nobody is setting a paper for them?
In my experience, many people don’t. They lose that innate curiosity, that childlike wonder, because they’ve been conditioned to equate learning with grades and certificates. I see this in the healthcare sector too. Many medical professionals stop updating their skills once they get that coveted license. They forget that learning should be a continuous journey, not a destination.
The same applies to entrepreneurs. I’ve backed several startups, and one pattern I notice is that the successful ones are led by founders who are perpetual learners. They’re not afraid to admit what they don’t know, and they’re willing to learn from anyone—whether it’s a mentor, a customer, or even a competitor. These are the people who understand that education does not end with a degree; it evolves with every life experience.
So, how do we foster this mindset in our children? How do we ensure that they become lifelong learners? The answer, I believe, lies in how we, as adults, approach learning. Anderson and Winthrop, in their book “The Disengaged Teen,” suggest that parents should be actively involved in their child’s learning journey. This doesn’t mean hovering over them or micromanaging their studies. Instead, it means being the adult who notices the mode, changes the talk, and protects unstructured time. It means being the adult who puts a Socratic tutor in the child’s hands and asks her to teach you what she discovered.
Let’s take a leaf from Eklavya’s book. He didn’t wait for a seat in Drona’s class; he built a practice. Our children live in a world brimming with resources that Eklavya could only dream of. Yet, what they still need—and what no app can counterfeit—is a parent who believes that their mind is not a product to be coached into shape, but a life to be accompanied.
I often find myself at odds with the current education system, which seems to churn out students like products off an assembly line. I wrote about this in a previous post, “Affordable Learning: The First Step,” where I emphasized the need for a more personalized and engaging approach to education. Our children are not vessels to be filled with information; they are souls to be ignited.
One way to achieve this is to embrace failures as learning opportunities. In my clinic, I’ve seen the devastation that comes with a failed IVF cycle. But I’ve also seen how those who treat failure as a stepping stone rather than a stumbling block often come out stronger. The same principle applies to learning. Let’s encourage our children to take risks, to fail, and to learn from those failures. This is how they will develop the resilience and adaptability needed in a world that is constantly changing.
Moreover, we must challenge the notion that learning is confined to classrooms. Real learning happens in the kitchen while cooking a new recipe, in the garden while observing how plants grow, or even during a family vacation when a child asks, “How does this work?” It’s in these unstructured moments that real curiosity is born.
Let me be clear: I’m not suggesting that exams are entirely useless. They have their place, but they should not be the sole focus. In the same way that investors look beyond a startup’s financial statements to assess its potential, we need to look beyond test scores to evaluate a child’s potential. As I argued in “AI in Education: Why My Children’s Curiosity Is the Real Catalyst for Learning,” it’s the curiosity and the ability to ask meaningful questions that are the true indicators of a learner’s potential.
In conclusion, the point is not to produce a more impressive child, but to raise a person who can still become interested in learning on a Thursday in 2040. Let’s be the adults who accompany them on this journey, nurturing their innate curiosity and encouraging them to become lifelong learners. Because, ultimately, the real test is not the one set by an examiner, but the one set by life itself. And in that test, the ability to learn continuously is the key to success.
I’ve shared my thoughts candidly, as I always do. Now, I invite you to reflect on this: Are we raising learners or mere test-takers? The choice is ours, and the stakes are incredibly high.