The Humanities: A diatribe

A recent post by the admirable and eloquent Terry Eagleton:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/dec/17/death-universities-malaise-tuition-fees?INTCMP=SRCH

has sparked some discussion amongst my facebook friends.

It sent me on a veritable verbal diatribe, some of which I'll replicate here, for your thoughts:

... Much as it pains me to admit it, the nature of the academy/public education, and how they handle the humanities degree (and especially the higher Masters & PhDs) need to change. The university was set up in a completely different culture and designed for a different age; with a different economic imperative, and a particular view of the mind.

Universities need to train "humanists" (for want of a better word. Is moral, critical, creative thinkers/actors a better description?) for the larger world - we want humanistic lawyers, engineers, doctors, street cleaners. We do this by connecting knowledge and skills for a continuously changing world. But currently, doing advanced training in a humanities Masters/PhD relegates the student to no other alternative except academic professorship (not that I have anything against that!). But there are no other jobs that respect someone with training in the humanities.

You can find a good article about this here: http://www.insidehighered.com/views/2010/05/24/krebs

Ultimately, what bothers me, is the dastard vagueness and confusion that characterises most humanities centres/departments. No one is really sure what the POINT of the humanities actually is. Talk to a English professor, a historian, a sociologist, or a lecturer in philosophy, and they will all give you a different answer (or no answer at all!)

To borrow, nay, plagiarise from Alan Jacobs (who got it from someone else), here is the problem in a netshell:

1) The scholarly performance of academic humanists is evaluated — by colleagues, tenure committees, etc. — using criteria developed for evaluating scientists.

2) Those criteria are built around the idea of knowledge creation.

3) But many humanists aren't sure what counts as knowledge creation for them, since they are not able to follow any agreed-upon method for testing hypotheses.

4) This problem grows more pressing as expectations for publication rise: scholars are asked to create more and more knowledge without being sure what knowledge is.

without being sure what knowledge is. Here, is the crux of the problem. We have access to so much information; so much knowledge, so many points of contact, so many articles to read, RSS feeds to subscribe to, that I think we've lost all focus. There is, in addition, no yardstick, no set methodology. (Arguable, this could breed creativity as well as stagnation ...)

Additionally, this is a very knowledge/information-centric way of looking at the world. I wonder what happens when we look at it from the point of view of people - individuals, and communities. The humanistic Arts, in ways which cannot be fathomed nor replicated by the Sciences, shapes the heart, soul and character of a person/people. Incidentally, didn't the Greeks believe that the sole purpose of education was to teach virtues, and to create people who lived the Good Life? (Because virtues, according to the Greeks, led to happiness.)

Most importantly, how do we use, create, imbibe and revel in the knowledge that the humanities give us, in light of it being part of God's creation, and in light of our ultimate aim, to love and know God more?

(It's an exciting, if somewhat trying time, to be a Christian, and part of the humanities).

Promise Keeper

God does not give us everything we want, but God does fulfill all God's promises, i.e., God remains the Lord of the earth, God preserves the Church, constantly renewing our faith and not laying on us more than we can bear, gladdening us with Divine nearness and help, hearing our prayers, and leading us along the best and straightest paths to holiness. By God's faithfulness in doing this, God creates in us praise for God alone.

- Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison, p206.