An Assault on Humanities
November 19th, 2008 by Philip LoringDear USA TODAY Editor,
Nail the coffin shut on America, free thinking has apparently become a waste of time and money. Or so you might think if you read USA Today’s cover story for November 19, 2008. Here, reporters expose a horrifying trend that college athletes overwhelmingly pursue *gasp* social science degrees. At first gloss, it doesn’t seem to be much of a story; that some athletes look for an easy academic load and cluster around so-called ‘easier’ majors fits the stereotype. But a closer look at the story reveals a wholesale condemnation of liberal arts and social sciences degrees, by the authors, by those directing the study, and those asked to comment, as a waste of effort, a waste of money, and as incapable of providing people with any valuable skill.
Specifically cited by the story were majors in sociology and multidisciplinary studies, but the accusations are clearly aimed squarely at the heart of liberal arts. Anecdotes were cited of athletes selecting, or being directed towards, such majors (and the easiest classes in these majors) in order to circumvent the academic performance requirements of their athletic scholarships. While I cannot speak one way or the other to the quality of social science curriculums across the country, what I can touch on is how vitally important these studies are, to our democracy, to individual happiness and well-being, and to our ability as a society to meet the new and difficult challenges faced today, whether climate change or a war-torn Middle-East. To tear these fields down wholesale because some students decided not to take their studies seriously, or because some were unfortunately advised to ‘game the system,’ is ignorant at best and disingenuous at worst.
Before they were politicians, a great many of the important people behind this fine country of ours were classically trained in these fields. John Locke, Thomas Jefferson and Ben Franklin all studied Philosophy. Thomas Jefferson also studied Classic and Romance languages beginning at the age of 14. Ben Franklin was the quintessential multi-disciplinarian, in addition to studying philosophy he studied and practiced music, literature, and science. Anyone who does not think we need people like these today does not understand the challenges we face.
How can we expect to forge any measure of peace and mutual cultural respect with those who live lives so different from ours, if we devalue the only professions that can learn to build such bridges? Or take for example the global challenge of sustainability, which is at least as much of a cultural problem as it is a technological one, if not more. How can we ever expect to make the necessary changes to our lives and our societies if we don’t value the only tools we have for understanding these problems in the first place? Indeed as I write this commentary, I am attending a conference on climate change, where scientists are pleading for more engagement with the social scientists.
Too many generations have been allowed to grow up under the advice that the only worthwhile professions are those that make ‘good money:’ lawyer, stock broker, middle management. As this sector of our society has grown, others have atrophied, and the evidence of the unsustainability of this model is evident today, in foreclosed houses, unemployed workers, and aging adults with lost retirements. The very hope for a new balance in our society lies within our ability to think freely and reflexively, yet USA today chooses to use its front-page to condemn our only chances for doing so. The great irony here is worth noting, that the very people who completed the study are themselves doing social science, and that the authors of this article are performing a liberal art.
If college curriculums indeed need reform, so be it. If college athletic advisors need reform, so be it. But to tell our children that social sciences and the liberal arts are themselves a waste of time is to condemn our society and culture. When the arts die, so dies the civilization.
