“Another undeniable factor is the Portuguese passport. Thousands of Goans, especially the younger generation, use this route to migrate to Portugal or other European nations in search of greener pastures. For them, an engineering degree in Goa is irrelevant when the real goal is to work abroad in service jobs that pay far better than what a local engineering graduate could expect. Why toil through mathematics and mechanics when a European salary awaits with far less academic effort? This mass migration drains not only classrooms but also the talent pool the state so desperately needs.”
Chief Minister Pramod Sawant’s concern that nearly 30% of engineering seats in Goa lie vacant—and that even reserved slots in premier NITs and IITs go unclaimed—cannot be dismissed as a minor anomaly. It is a crisis that exposes not only the shortcomings of the state’s education system but also the shifting aspirations of Goan youth. The CM’s puzzled remark, “I don’t understand why these seats are going vacant,” must be met with blunt honesty: young people are voting with their feet, abandoning a system that no longer aligns with their ambitions or realities.
A growing number of Goan youth are bypassing higher education entirely to join the taxi, rent-a-car, and rent-a-bike businesses. These ventures promise quick, steady income with minimal investment of time or training. Why should a teenager spend four years in an underperforming engineering college, only to emerge jobless or underemployed, when a rented car or scooter guarantees immediate earnings? The tourism-driven economy has made such shortcuts lucrative, but it has also fostered a culture of short-term thinking. The pursuit of fast money is eroding interest in professions that require years of disciplined study.
For those who do enter colleges, many admit they are there only as a formality while preparing for government jobs. The Goan mindset still treats government service as the gold standard of security and prestige. Yet, government jobs are scarce, competitive, and cannot absorb the thousands of graduates produced each year. This narrow vision suffocates entrepreneurial spirit and innovation, leaving youth ill-prepared for the dynamism of today’s job market. Engineering, once a pathway to private-sector success, holds little appeal when students equate success solely with a government desk.
Another undeniable factor is the Portuguese passport. Thousands of Goans, especially the younger generation, use this route to migrate to Portugal or other European nations in search of greener pastures. For them, an engineering degree in Goa is irrelevant when the real goal is to work abroad in service jobs that pay far better than what a local engineering graduate could expect. Why toil through mathematics and mechanics when a European salary awaits with far less academic effort? This mass migration drains not only classrooms but also the talent pool the state so desperately needs.
Even for those who might once have pursued engineering seriously, the value proposition has collapsed. Goa’s engineering colleges, barring a few exceptions, are plagued with outdated syllabi, weak faculty strength, and minimal industry partnerships. Graduates often discover that their degrees are misaligned with market needs, especially in cutting-edge fields like artificial intelligence, renewable energy, or biotech. Without meaningful opportunities in Goa’s limited industrial landscape, many graduates end up either migrating or working in sectors far removed from their training.
What is most troubling about the CM’s statement is not his concern but his confusion. The reasons for vacant seats are not mysterious—they are visible in every taxi stand, every rent-a-bike counter, every young Goan boarding a flight to Lisbon. For the head of the government to say he “doesn’t understand” is to avoid accountability. It suggests a refusal to confront uncomfortable truths about the failures of Goa’s education policies, employment strategies, and economic vision.
If the state truly wants to reverse this decline, piecemeal introspection will not suffice. What is needed is bold, structural change. Curricula must align with global trends. Faculty need upskilling. Industry tie-ups are essential to give students real-world exposure. Goa must also expand opportunities in law, design, liberal arts, and vocational fields to match student aspirations. The government must actively attract technology firms, startups, and research hubs so that engineering graduates see a future here. It must also encourage youth entrepreneurship in innovation, not just tourism rentals, and provide incentives for skill-based businesses beyond taxis and scooters. And above all, it must acknowledge the Portuguese passport exodus and find ways to make staying back equally attractive by ensuring dignified, well-paying jobs locally.
Empty engineering seats are not merely about disinterested students—they reflect a society drifting toward short-termism, migration, and dependency on government jobs. Unless Goa addresses the underlying rot, its classrooms will continue to empty, its talent will keep leaving, and its economy will remain shackled to tourism rentals and remittances. For once, the government must stop scratching its head and start asking the harder question: what kind of future does Goa really want for its youth?
