Albert
Szent-György, the Hungarian biochemist and 1937 Nobel Prize-winner, once said
that “discovery consists of looking at the same thing as everyone else and
thinking something different.” This
power helps develop the mind’s natural capacity for exploration, curiosity and
adaptability.
It
seems a terrible shame, therefore, that individuals should be prevented from
exercising this power by their peers.
When I was an undergraduate student, I was always considered “above-average”
– the kind of person who could be relied upon to produce safe, well-produced
essays without any particular originality of insight. Even when I did try to be “different” – in other
words, discuss texts in ways that might not have already been set down in print
– I was always criticized for not doing a “proper” piece of work, with each
point substantiated by reference to already-established critical authorities.
It
is only recently that I discovered that such judgments were characteristic of
those who are “unadaptable.” Despite
their positions as professors of English in higher education institutions,
their entire lives are governed by the fear of being different, of branching
out in new directions, or encouraging others to do the same. Such fears are often inspired by personal as
well as professional motives; it does not look good for professors to be
outshone by their learners (especially if they are trying to acquire a
reputation); while the need to publish in “established,” internationally
recognized journals – which often have a rigid theoretical or methodological
agenda – inhibits them from producing new and innovative work.
I
was reminded of how dominant such beliefs actually are, when I visited a
university in Killeen, Texas earlier this week.
I talked to a group of liberal studies learners, who were specifically
engaged in inter- or transdisciplinary work.
The task seemed to be arduous – far more difficult than they had
anticipated – but at least it gave them the chance to try and forge new
connections between apparently diverse materials in literature, politics,
history and art. I was impressed with
what they were trying to achieve; but my optimism was abruptly quenched when I
learned from their professor that “liberal studies” was perceived by senior
members of his department as a soft option; the kind of study pursued only by
those not sufficiently capable of passing Master’s courses in more established
majors – history, politics, or English.
This
form of intellectual denigration inevitably affects the learners’ motivation –
not only do they experience considerable self-doubt (what they are pursuing is
not really valuable), but they believe that the outcomes, whatever they might
be, will not be recognized. Put more
baldly, “liberal studies” just helps them to obtain their diploma (and makes
the institution’s graduate program look good by improving its statistics).
As I listened to the learners, and their professor, I
wondered why their peers are so reluctant to recognize a form of education that
will inevitably produce something different, both intellectually as well as
materially (in the form of publications).
Is it because they are unadaptable (like my professors in the early
Eighties), or is it because they have been so conditioned by the ideological connotations
of the term “discipline” (implying a rigorous and tightly controlled form
study) that they are unable to think out of the box? Is that what a university education has come
to: a series of intellectual reinvented wheels, enabling faculty members to
remain in-post while preventing their learners from making use of their natural
curiosity?
If such is the case, then there is definitely a crisis
in higher education – especially the humanities. I recently read an article from 2013
published in The Atlantic, in which
the scholar Heidi Tworek argued that the real reason for this crisis,
especially in the United States, was that women (who once used to choose the
humanities) had now deserted the humanities in favor of more practically-based
subjects. They have looked for a more “practical”
degree instead.
While not wanting to disagree with this point of view,
I suggest that this is only a contributory factor to the crisis. What is perhaps more significant is that
learners see no point in pursuing a humanities-based education, especially if
it is in any way innovative (combining “practical” with “artistic” subjects,
whatever that might mean), because their professors are more than likely to
regard such programs with disdain.
When we talk about “adaptability,” we have to realize
that everyone, regardless of age, experience, or status, should be willing to
embrace this concept. Otherwise the
future of education, especially inter- or transdisciplinary education, looks
bleak indeed.
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