First, I heard the words, “we’re reinventing the Liberal Arts.” I was skeptical. Then I heard, “for the new global, digital economy,” and a wave of nausea on account of an unoriginal cliché followed. To make matters worse, “our students should have one foot in the street and the other in the library,” — this must be a sick and twisted joke dressed up in a sports jacket and tall black socks.

In Hebrew, we have an old(ish) saying, “Me, I have just one question…” Indeed, I do: what is a credential, certificate, or competency? From my time spent at Interim President Arthur Levine’s ’70 most recent town hall, I gather it’s essentially an institutionally backed stamp of approval that tells whoever is reading your resume or stalking your LinkedIn at two in the morning that you’re qualified to perform X thing, or are skilled in Y area, or know how to do Z according to God-knows-who. 

From my tone, you’ll surely surmise that I don’t think very highly of credentials, certificates or competencies. “Why?” you may ask. Fantastic question: it’s all “bullshit.” Some readers may find my language a bit abrasive, vulgar even, but I assure you, dearest reader, I’m using “bullshit” in the very technical sense that philosopher, Harry Frankfurt, did in his 1986 essay on the subject. Therein, Frankfurt understood bullshit as, “a deceptive misrepresentation, short of lying, especially by pretentious word or deed, of somebody’s own thoughts, feelings, or attitudes.” 

Indeed, a “credential” in, for instance, communicative efficacy, is more often than not a misrepresentation which is traveling somewhere in the uncanny valley between lying and not lying, masquerading as self-flattery for the sake of ego. And such a certificate is more often than not, about somebody’s own thoughts or feelings toward someone else’s ability to speak before an audience between one and seven billion (because you must dream big in the new liberal arts). Now, I’m no scientist, but it does seem like there’s some affinity between the concept of “bullshit” and the notion of a certificate in something as nebulous as communicative efficacy.

Then again, maybe I’m being uncharitable. Perhaps communicative efficacy is too niche to constitute a credential, and we should therefore not attempt to generalize from a particular. So, let’s try something like “critical thinking.” This concept has been circulating in the lexicon for a while, long enough for most reasonably educated people to have a sense for what it identifies. So, would a credential for “critical thinking” satisfy Frankfurt’s criteria for “bullshit?” I would argue that it does, indeed.

I’ll preface with the fact that since at least Immanuel Kant’s lifetime, philosophers and theorists have squabbled amongst themselves and each other about what a critique even is. That means they haven’t even arrived at the question of what constitutes critical thinking. So, unless some genius settled that debate in lead time, I don’t understand how faculty and staff can be expected to give some kid wearing plaid pajamas to a seminar at 10 minutes past 11:00 a.m. a certificate in critical thinking. Are we really expecting my three-years-short-of-retiring professor to get inside my brain to determine whether I was engaging with Book 4 of Aristotle’s “Politics” critically? Surely, there are better uses of his time.

In all seriousness, I want us to please consider thinking about what it is that we’re doing. I recognize the university is fiscally challenged. Moreover, I recognize that I don’t even know the degree to which it is challenged because I don’t have the numbers before me and the unabridged testimony of those who are familiar with them. I think we can all agree that if this university is to endure (which I hope it does for reasons that stretch beyond self-interest), some things should and need to be done differently. Still, I think it is equally important that we have a strong grasp of what those changes should be. 

I understand the move to provide students with a second transcript which lists earned credentials, certificates and competencies is an effort to help us get jobs. Embedded in that effort is an ambition to make this institution appear as a pioneer of liberal arts education in a Brave New World. Still, I’m deeply skeptical of the means we’re pursuing as they have been presented to the student body thus far.

Before moving forward, we need to address an important point. I think there’s an unchallenged assumption in post-Clinton American society that attending college and university is strictly in service of making one a more qualified and competitive candidate for a job. Irrespective of whether that is the case — and I think trends in the labor market reflect that employers are, albeit very slowly, beginning to deemphasize the importance of college and university degrees — higher education is and has always been about much more than increasing one’s chances to land a job. Excuse my frankness, but if you are only going to college or university to increase your chances in the labor market, leave and consider going to trade school. You will save your time and (in an overwhelming amount of cases, your parents’) money.

Among the reasons why colleges and universities have become what I have called an “annual, nine-month-long camps for parents to send their overgrown children,” is reducible to this unchallenged assumption. The rise of “bullshit” — pointless requirements, ridiculously expensive efforts designed to make “student life” more luxurious, administrative bloat, and the like — in higher education is positively correlated with the notion that a university degree merely services job prospects. Because if these four years are merely to be tolerated so that a student can come out with a job on the other end, you can’t expect an 18-year-old kid with an underdeveloped prefrontal cortex that prefers cheap thrills to the vita contemplativa to take their education seriously enough to develop critical thinking skills.

I can hear the criticism: ‘but Gonny, you’re being utopic.’ No, I’m not. I don’t expect colleges and universities to exist outside of market forces. Capitalism is King and its humble subjects are use-value and productivity. Lest you think that I’m not cognizant of the fact that were it not for the hard sciences, my philosophizing about what some dead white European male said 250 years ago about the meaning of life in a 10-person seminar would be impossible. I understand that the future of higher education is uncertain, independent of the present circus in Washington (though these developments have certainly not tamed the flames of the fire). Still, I maintain that we ought to think about what we’re doing and why we’re doing it in that way. 

If the goal, for instance, is to make politics majors more employable — which again, can and should be debated — why don’t we consider instituting some sort of program within the department that focuses on training students in specific, field-relevant skills? For instance, policy analysis is a skill that employers within the political field actually look for, and real, assessable training in it is an opportunity that could unveil to students those areas of the political sphere that spark their interest. Importantly, to the degree that they wish to dedicate some of their careers to making their impact in this field. Now that sounds like an opportunity to make Brandeis graduates change-makers in the world. 

Alternatively, if the goal is to make biology students more effective communicators, consider instituting a practicum where students transmit their knowledge orally by perhaps matching them to schools or other community-support programs that could use supplemental science knowledge. This would also serve Brandeis’ purported commitment to social justice. These examples are bold measures that would surely take time, loads of coordination and  will require prolonged thought. But by the same token, such measures actually force us to think about what we are doing and whether the means we’re deploying are adequate to actualize our ends.

If we’re truly committed to this idea of reinventing the liberal arts, then I think we should take seriously the threat of conforming to arbitrary standards. Brandeis will not stand out in a — admittedly shrinking  — sea of options by merely copying what places like Northeastern or Tufts are doing. I understand that those involved in the planning of the new curriculum believe that they’re envisioning something which reaches beyond these competitors. For the sake of the institution, I hope that they’re right. But I must admit that I’m very skeptical of these measures that appear to do little more than reify standards which employers pay lipservice to but do very little to recognize in their applicants.

Have any of those involved in “reinventing” the curriculum applied for a job lately? I, and many of those close to me, have. And let me break some tragic news to you all: just because employers say they want to see something in applicants, doesn’t mean they actually evaluate applicants on those metrics. For instance, an employer may say they want to know whether an applicant is a critical thinker, an effective communicator, etc. but little to no jobs (excluding fellowships) that I’ve applied for even make uploading more than one transcript an option on their application portals. And that’s granting that they asked for a transcript in the first place (which an overwhelming share did not). Yes, this is just my experience and we shouldn’t generalize from one case, but I think my experience does yield an important point: conforming to arbitrary standards comes at a cost. And that cost is the actualization of the university’s mission and student’s access to it.

Universities’ ends are to produce and spread knowledge in pursuit of truth. I want this university to thrive because I think it’s unique in a multitude of facets, and it deserves an enduring legacy. I don’t want this legacy to be sacrificed to a regime of “bullshit” measures that don’t contribute to a vibrant intellectual environment where ideas are circulated and developed for the pursuit of truth and advancement. The life of the mind is valuable in itself. I don’t expect every student who walks this campus to agree, but I do expect that of those who have power and influence within the institution. And if these actors do in fact agree, then they should be very careful to institute systems which make it clear to students that it is not the content of their courses that they should take interest in, but whether those courses contribute to a more competitive professional portfolio.