
We often equate a university with its physical campus, despite the experiences during covid-19, or, as discussed in Suchikova et al. (2026), the relocation of more than 40 universities in Ukraine since 2014. They suggest understanding universities “as a network of relationships, practices, and shared intellectual commitments” and discuss the “university without walls” model, “in which academic life functions as a distributed network across different locations“.
The university without walls has existed as a theoretical model for a while and has been discussed in the contexts of for example open education, but this case of a specific Ukrainian university shows what it can mean in practice and at the same time how superficial many of our assumptions about higher education are. For example, we tend to talk about global networks, mobility, partnership, but rarely consider the different worlds we and our colleagues live in at the exact moment: day or night, summer or winter, peace or war. Sharing real experiences, for example of war, through personal stories is, as the authors reflect, necessary, but comes at high personal cost for the people who have to relive and retell their experiences over and over again, and it needs to carefully balance what the audience needs to know with not becoming sensationalism, and the important content and analysis getting lost, and with narratives become part of knowledge production.
One experience of the university without walls is the constant travel between a home that isn’t home and meetings in many different places: “This is the price of a university without walls. We must keep moving, chasing events, people, time, experiences, impressions…“. And the “loss of territory” is not just about university infrastructure, but also about professional identity that is often deeply rooted in a place. Networks need to become more distributed than local: “In this context [of growing global instability], mobility and networked interaction cease to be merely additional characteristics of contemporary academia. They gradually become its structural foundation.”
What I found super interesting is the discussion that “In global discussions about higher education, the experience of universities operating under crisis conditions is often framed as a source of “lessons” for other systems. Yet such a perspective can be overly simplified. It assumes a one-directional flow of knowledge: from the “crisis” context to more “stable” academic systems.” (and I think I am guilty of this, I have definitely talked about the pandemic as source of learning, too, rather than considering adequately how learning in the “normal” state can prepare us for similar future disruptions). But, of course, “In reality, international academic interactions are far more complex” and it is not just about learning from another system but about re-examining the own from new perspectives — for example what level of infrastructure or resources are really absolutely necessary for a functioning system, or what reasonable planning horizons are. And also what can be expected from individuals: being available 24/7 might seem (and even be?) necessary in a situation of acute crisis, but is not sustainable for anyone. Widespread mental health challenges have been reported and “From this perspective, academic exhaustion should be understood not as an individual weakness nor solely as a consequence of extreme circumstances, but as a structural indicator of how effectively university systems protect the people who sustain them. Psychosocial safety therefore needs to be considered not merely as an additional wellbeing initiative but as a matter of institutional governance and resilience” — whether the system is in crisis or not.
Reading this article triggered so many thoughts in me, many of which aren’t fully formed yet. For example my knee-jerk reflex regarding the reported need for constant travel (you don’t need to constantly travel at all, think about carbon emissions and do more stuff online!) is really coming from a very privileged position where I can choose to not travel and my network and career are still fine… The main thing I am thinking about right now though is that a university without borders might sound ok for academics who are already in the system. But what about students? Often people stay in the city they grew up in and have a connection to, and rely on existing networks also for support in their studies. How would we onboard students (and new staff) from around the world, if the connections weren’t about the place? Who gets recruited for which university, how do people choose what to attend? And then who gets welcomed and included, who does not? Whereas for myself, I would be mostly very happy to just find my niche and community online, and the authors surely have experiences with the student perspective and it isn’t the focus of the article, I just have a hard time imagining it right now. But this is a very thought-provoking piece about experiences that are very different from my own, yet the reality for many in the global academia we often take for granted (I am still shocked by the number: more than 40 displaced universities!).
Suchikova, Y., Lyman, I., and Winkler, T. (2026). University without walls: Ukrainian-Australian reflections on the future of universities in a geopolitically unstable world. Geopolitics under Globalization, 7(1), 54-69. doi: https://doi.org/10.21511/gg.07(1).2026.05