Institutional scholasticism does not primarily exist to discover truth. It exists to reproduce itself. It operates through status hierarchies, reputational gating, and compliance rituals that slowly but efficiently select against intellectual risk. Advancement depends less on clarity, insight, or courage than on strategic alignment, calibrated language, and ritual citation. Academic publishing, the circulatory system of this architecture, is deeply corrupt, built around monopoly rents, prestige capture, and controlled access rather than knowledge. What circulates is not understanding but legitimacy tokens. The system optimises for self-propagation. Those who conform rise. Those who disrupt stall, fragment, or disappear. Over time, originality becomes professionally irrational. Thought collapses into manoeuvre. And the structure continues, largely indifferent to who occupies senior chairs or boardrooms, because it is the mechanism itself that governs outcomes.
The game is not over. The war is never lost. The possibility of free intellectual discovery remains. But the entire field is now so deeply self-entangled as status hierarchy that many within it are unlikely to perceive the threshold they are approaching, if they have not already crossed it. Obedience is rewarded so efficiently that it comes to feel like professionalism. Silence becomes maturity. Risk becomes irresponsibility. This is what makes such systems eminently and obstructively corruptible. Not through malice, but through architecture. Hierarchies built to regulate knowledge become ideal transmission media for power. Under sufficient pressure, what once filtered for scholarly legitimacy can be inverted to filter for ideological loyalty. And this transition does not announce itself. It arrives quietly, wearing the language of stability, pragmatism, and institutional survival. That these systems still imagine themselves as guardians of intellectual freedom is the most dangerous illusion they sustain.