Academic Institutions Prioritize Extractive Knowledge Systems Over Indigenous Epistemologies in Capacity-Building Initiatives

Traditional knowledge systems are not static 'resources' but dynamic, living practices embedded in cultural and ecological relationships. Academic programmes that frame them as 'systems' to be 'built' risk reducing them to extractive data points, erasing their spiritual and communal dimensions. Indigenous knowledge holders often view such initiatives as neo-colonial, where their expertise is co-opted for institutional prestige rather than genuine collaboration. The programme’s two-week format itself reflects a colonial timeframe, prioritizing institutional convenience over the generational depth of Indigenous knowledge transmission.

The history of academic institutions in India and globally is marred by the extraction and appropriation of Indigenous knowledge under the guise of 'documentation' and 'preservation.' Colonial-era institutions like the Asiatic Society systematically catalogued Indigenous knowledge while suppressing its practitioners, a legacy that continues in modern academia. The Indian state’s own policies, such as the Biological Diversity Act (2002), have institutionalized the commodification of traditional knowledge, requiring 'prior approval' from bureaucracies that often lack Indigenous representation. This programme echoes past efforts to 'civilize' Indigenous knowledge, framing it as a problem to be solved rather than a living tradition to be respected.

In Māori traditions, knowledge (mātauranga) is inseparable from the land and cannot be 'taught' in a two-week programme without disrupting its cultural integrity, as it requires deep relational understanding. African epistemologies, such as Ubuntu, emphasize that knowledge is communal and cannot be divorced from its social and spiritual context, contrasting sharply with the individualistic, credential-driven Western model. In many Indigenous cultures, knowledge is not a 'system' but a living relationship between people, land, and ancestors, where reciprocity and responsibility are central. The programme’s framing reflects a Western academic bias that prioritizes institutional authority over Indigenous self-determination.

The programme’s approach to 'traditional knowledge systems' as a discrete, teachable subject aligns with Western scientific paradigms that categorize and decontextualize knowledge. However, Indigenous knowledge systems often operate through holistic, experiential, and relational frameworks that resist such compartmentalization. Scientific methodologies that prioritize empirical validation over lived experience risk further marginalizing Indigenous ways of knowing. The two-week format itself is scientifically arbitrary, as meaningful knowledge transmission often requires generational engagement and ecological immersion.

Traditional knowledge systems are deeply intertwined with artistic and spiritual practices, such as storytelling, dance, and ritual, which are not reducible to academic curricula. The programme’s framing strips these practices of their sacred and creative dimensions, reducing them to 'cultural expressions' to be studied rather than lived. In many Indigenous cultures, art and spirituality are not separate from knowledge but are essential to its transmission and validation. The two-week format disrupts the cyclical, seasonal rhythms that often govern such practices, further alienating them from their cultural context.

If academic institutions continue to treat traditional knowledge as a 'resource' for institutional capacity-building, the risk of epistemicide—systematic erasure of Indigenous knowledge—will persist, accelerating cultural homogenization. Future models must prioritize Indigenous-led governance, where knowledge holders define the terms of engagement and benefit-sharing. Scenario planning should include mechanisms for Indigenous communities to opt out of programmes that do not align with their cultural protocols, rather than being compelled to participate for 'development.' The programme’s two-week model is unsustainable for knowledge systems that require decades of apprenticeship and ecological attunement.

The programme’s framing centers institutional authority, sidelining the voices of Indigenous knowledge holders who are rarely consulted as equal partners. Marginalized communities, particularly those in rural and tribal areas, are often treated as passive 'subjects' of study rather than active participants in knowledge creation. The application process (e.g., 'Apply by April 20') reflects a gatekeeping mechanism that privileges those with institutional access, further excluding Indigenous practitioners. The programme’s language ('capacity building') implies a deficit model, positioning Indigenous knowledge as something to be 'built' rather than recognized as already whole and sovereign.