What I learned as a student at LSE

Originally published in Manila Bulletin

When I first set foot on the London School of Economics campus, I expected rigorous lectures and dense reading lists. What I didn’t anticipate was how profoundly LSE would reshape my worldview—and my trajectory. Much like the dynamic, layered neighborhoods Jane Jacobs championed, my academic experience here has thrived on intellectual diversity and the unexpected intersections of ideas. One day I’m immersed in rational-choice political models; the next, I’m unpacking postcolonial critiques of development. Each perspective challenges top-down assumptions and reinforces Jacobs’s insight that lasting change often grows from the ground up—through context, complexity, and the messy vibrancy of real life. In thinking about inequality, climate change, and migration, I’ve come to see the value of looking beyond abstract systems to the lived realities shaping our cities and societies.

Beyond the intellectual feast, it was the people who truly expanded my horizons. In seminars and late-night study groups, I debated urban-planning strategies with classmates from São Paulo, Bogota and Toronto, learned about community-driven health projects from friends in Kenya, and saw my hometown through fresh eyes thanks to insights from a visiting scholar from Manila. Negotiating cultural differences—like our wildly divergent definitions of “consensus”—taught me humility, patience, and the art of listening before speaking. My initial proposals were often dismantled and rebuilt by peers whose lived experiences enriched every idea.

LSE’s vibrant events—from panels on Brexit’s global fallout to workshops on sustainable finance—pulled me even further out of my comfort zone. True to Jane Jacobs’s belief in the power of diverse, engaged communities, these gatherings became spaces where lived experience met academic insight. Each term, I’ve had the chance to hear from thinkers like Nobel Laureates Amartya Sen, Daron Acemoglu, and Christopher Pissarides—encounters that challenge abstraction with human complexity. These moments have deepened my empathy and reinforced a Jacobsian truth: that the most meaningful insights often emerge not from detached theory, but from the messy, interconnected fabric of real-world exchange.

Perhaps the most transformative opportunity came when I was invited to serve as Editor-in-Chief of the LSE International Development Review. Guiding this first volume—from selecting essays on governance, digital humanitarianism, and low-emission transport to shaping its global outlook—brought my LSE experience full circle. I watched contributors from six world regions blend theory and practice, and I realized that the journal itself was a microcosm of everything LSE taught me: interdisciplinarity, inclusivity, and the power of rigorous scholarship to influence real-world policy.

Working with authors from Asia, Africa, the Middle East, Europe, Latin America, and North America, I learned editorial lessons that no classroom could teach: how to nurture a compelling argument, how to balance diverse methodological approaches, and how to ensure each piece spoke to both academic peers and policy-makers alike. Launching that first issue—holding the printed pages that I’d helped bring to life—was a milestone not just for the Review, but for me personally: proof that the mindset LSE instilled (to question boldly, collaborate across borders, and never settle for easy answers) could translate into tangible impact.

Today, as I watch our journal reach libraries and desks around the globe, I carry forward more than an academic credential. I carry a network of collaborators and friends who are as committed as I am to weaving interdisciplinary, international perspectives into solutions for our world’s most pressing challenges. My LSE education didn’t just teach me theories; it gave me a voice, a platform, and the conviction that, together, we can shape a more equitable and sustainable future.

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