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In his recently published book,
“The Last Professors: The Corporate University and the Fate of the
Humanities,” Frank Donoghue argues ominously that the demise of the
humanities as curricular bastions of learning for its own sake, with little
regard for practical outcomes, is at hand.
“Except in a few private
wealthy universities,” writes Donoghue, “the splendid and supported
irrelevance of human inquiry for its own sake is already a thing of the past.
In two or three generations, humanists will become an insignificant
percentage of the country’s university instructional workforce.” What appears to be happening is
that money-strapped colleges and universities are shifting their priorities from
the Platonic notion of discussive and interpretive value-associated
epistemology to curriculums that assure a practical exit strategy for
students who are paying more and more every year to take classes that will
land them a healthy job in the outside world.
Indicative of such a shift is
the fact that at most universities the pay scale for humanities professors is
lower than that for instructors in the sciences, law and business. In
addition, tenure-track positions in the humanities are fading, and full-time
professors are being replaced by much more economical adjuncts. One need look only at the most
recent building projects at William & Mary to judge where the priorities
of the college are headed. While humanities departments are scattered from
one end of the campus to the other, the college is now constructing a huge
new business school. In the near future, a career counseling center will be
built. Recently completed was an athletic mausoleum bearing the name of
football coach Jimmye Laycock. Could the message be any
clearer? In the dark days of the of the
‘60s and ‘70s, William and Mary was known as an institution that valued
excellence in teaching above all. Professors regularly taught four courses
each semester, and the variety of courses offered at this relatively small
college was rather stunning. Humanities departments, as well as those in the
sciences, thrived as a result. Research, though important, was
conducted during the summer months or, later, as a result of semester grants
awarded by the Faculty Research Committee.
Now, however, the college and
its professors, including most humanities professors, have decided that the
best defense against the onslaught of an educational telos constituted of
practicality and job orientation is to reduce teaching loads to two courses
per semester. The reasons given for such a
precipitous decision are two: to encourage research and to make the college
more attractive to future hires. While requiring more research
in the humanities for tenure or promotion might sound existentially profound
and be productive of better teaching, the fact is that requiring an
instructor to pump out X number of books or papers may well be according
published prolixity a deceptively destructive position in the hierarchy of
epistemological worth. Truly solid research that may
take years of intense study and grueling grunt work to complete is worthy of
great reward. The recently published “The Uncollected Letters of Algernon
Charles Swinburne” by English professor Terry Meyers is an excellent example
of a long-term project of indisputable intrinsic value. But to require professors to
crank out books or papers in limited time frames for the sake of tenure or
promotion is insanity and results frequently in a type of quasi scholarship
laden with inane, if not faddish, twaddle. Consider the ill-fated dalliance
with deconstruction. Relative to attracting future
instructors to positions in the humanities, it should be noted that graduate
schools are producing far more doctorates in the humanities than there are
jobs to accommodate them. The reputation of W&M alone is enough to
attract prime candidates, regardless of the number of courses they will be
required to teach. In his review of Donoghue’s
book for The New York Times, Stanley Fish summarizes the views of John
Sperling, one of the founders of Phoenix University: “The for-profit
university is the logical end of a shift from a model of education centered
in an individual professor who gives insight and inspiration to a model that
begins and ends with the imperative to deliver the information and skills
necessary to gain employment. Insofar as there are real-life faculty in the
picture, their credentials and publications are beside the point, for they are
just delivery people.” If what Sperling says is true,
it would behoove W&M humanities professors to prove their worth by
getting back into the classroom. It may well be the last bastion of whatever
relevancy they have left. If they persist in thinking that Donoghue’s
portentous predictions could never reach fruition at W&M, they would do
well to contemplate the wonders of the
new business school and its concomitantly emerging career counseling center. |
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lewleadbeater.com Copyright 2002 All Rights Reserved email: LWL@lewleadbeater.com |
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