Building What I Never Had: Mentoring the Next Generation of International Relations Scholars in PNG

In PNG, conversations about the future of higher education often lead us back to a core issue: quality. While infrastructure, access, and funding are all part of the equation, it is the quality of the learning experience—especially at the university level—that determines the kind of graduates we produce and the direction our country takes. This quality is inseparable from the people who teach, research, and mentor within our academic institutions.

Screenshot of the International Relations units offered at DWU

When we examine the composition of faculties in PNG’s universities, an uncomfortable reality emerges. How many Papua New Guinean academics hold PhDs? Of those, how many fall within the active academic age bracket of 35 to 50, where one typically finds peak intellectual output and energy? And perhaps most critically, how many are publishing regularly in peer-reviewed journals—both locally and internationally?

These questions reveal a deeper concern. A university without research-active faculty members is like a school without a curriculum. Scholars who are not engaging with current debates, producing original work, or mentoring students through the research process cannot foster innovation. They cannot inspire critical inquiry or equip students to contribute meaningfully to national or global conversations.

I know this firsthand. In my journey through the field of International Relations, I had no PhD mentor in PNG to guide me. There was no one to offer structured research advice, no experienced academic to help navigate theory or methodology, and no established network to connect me with global scholars. I had to carve my own path—learning by doing, seeking guidance informally, and often walking alone. It was a rewarding but solitary road.

The lack of mentorship and structured research training in key fields like International Relations points to a broader issue of capacity development. We risk reproducing cycles of underdevelopment in our academic landscape if emerging scholars are left without guidance. Mentorship is more than academic advice; it is a process of empowerment, of building confidence, and of passing on the tools needed to challenge assumptions and generate new knowledge.

Meanwhile, countries like China are advancing rapidly. China now produces more patents annually than the United States and boasts 86 universities in the top 1000 global rankings—more than Australia and New Zealand combined. Institutions such as Tsinghua University, Peking University, and Zhejiang University are consistently ranked among the world’s top 50. These results are not accidental; they reflect decades of policy reform, research investment, and talent development.

These universities are not just centres of excellence. They are platforms for national transformation. They train thought leaders, shape public policy, and contribute directly to China’s diplomatic, scientific, and technological rise. Their success reminds us that academic development is not just about degrees—it’s about building systems that produce knowledge, mentor the next generation, and respond to national needs.

So where does PNG stand in all of this? Having walked this journey alone, I find myself asking: Should I now become the mentor I never had? Should I play a part in training the next generation of International Relations scholars in PNG? The answer increasingly seems to be yes. And as we collect data through our current survey on the proposed postgraduate program, we should go further: use this opportunity to create a structured pathway for International Relations researchers—one anchored in mentorship, research training, and a clear vision for national and regional relevance.