One of These Things is Not Like the Other

Two seemingly very different stories in the Chronicle of Higher Education caught my attention this week. (I’m writing this a few days early so I can travel to the CCCC‘s in Atlanta this week). One, “Presidents Defend Their Pay as Public Colleges Slash Budgets,” is about the ample rewards of being at the top of the higher education hierarchy, and the other, “A Perfect Storm in Undergraduate Education, Part 2,” reviews the argument, expressed in the book Academically Adrift, that undergraduates too often graduate without becoming educated.

These two stories seem to exist in weirdly separate worlds, even though the piece about undergraduate education concludes, in part, with this quote from Academically Adrift: “”A renewed commitment to improving undergraduate education is unlikely to occur without changes to the organizational cultures of colleges and universities.” I am always a little skeptical about the claim that students, overall, are not learning. The problem is that certain aspects of learning, such as critical thinking, are elusive at best. How do you quantify good thinking?

Still, it’s fairly obvious that an ugly mix of exploitation, consumerism, and standardized testing, at the very least, has undermined undergraduate education to an alarming degree. If that’s what the authors of Academically Adrift mean by “organizational culture” then I cannot disagree. But very little, if anything, in the piece about presidential salaries seems connected to any of these issues. These presidents are clearly running the system into the ground and getting rich in the process. It’s hard to see how that’s different from the corporate world at large.

Madness!

When I was a little boy I got hurt playing both football and baseball. The problem, we found out, was that I had what is often called a lazy eye. (officially: Amblyopia ). My mom made me quit all sports, and I lost all interest. That’s never changed, so the marketing hype called March Madness is just that to me: hype. I don’t have anything against basketball, but I don’t have that passion.

Still, I know that lots of people enjoy the entire ritual from filling out the brackets to the final game. What I find more interesting this year is that the basketball championships have produced two revealing exposes of college sports. First, was the Frontline report called Money and March Madness (I mentioned it last week), and then was a Real Sports episode (#168).

I’ve always thought that the emphasis on sports in college was a symptom of U.S. anti-intellectualism, if not one of its causes, and I knew that enormous amounts of money were generated by these programs, especially football and basketball, but the scale of both the profits and the exploitation ought to shock anyone. It’s not millions, or hundreds of millions, but billions of dollars.

That means we ought to be able to fund a big chunk of our college system on our love (even I might love sports if this were true) of a few sports. Instead, of course, as both shows illustrate, the money is funneled into administrative and coach salaries and expensive stadiums and the like. When it comes to reform, though, both shows focus too heavily on the athletes.

The athletes are certainly exploited and they should be compensated: the idea of a graduation bonus is long over due and after graduation the athletes ought to be paid if their images are used in video games or promotions and the like. That’s just the tip of a much bigger iceberg. I think that the profits ought to be pooled and used as a kind of permanent scholarship fund.

As the cliché goes, this would be a win-win situation. I don’t think athletes are greedy; they just want a cut. I also think that many of them would be happy to know that, along with their piece of the pie, they are helping to create opportunities for generations to come. We’d emphasize the importance of education. And we would damped the greed of couches and administrators.

Agnotological Power

I don’t know how I missed it, but I just stumbled across a word that describes a phenomena that I find both fascinating and repugnant: agnotology, “is the study of culturally-induced ignorance or doubt, particularly the publication of inaccurate or misleading scientific data.” It’s not just the right, as Doug Henwood has documented, it’s taken root in so-called alternative media, too.

A certain segment of the right– if that’s the word– rejects evolution, denies global warming, and believes that Obama was born and raised in Kenya. On the left– if that’s the word– we have 911 conspiracies, vaccine paranoia, and all sorts of quack medicine. Our nuts don’t seem to have the national credibility that right-wing nuts seem to have. I suppose the reasons for this difference vary.

A few racists believe almost anything about a black President. A few politicians are promoting these ideas simply because they generate headlines and endure them to their base. It’s the kind of thing that drives teachers batty, I think, simply because we hold so tightly to the old adage, “free your mind, and your ass will follow.” As it turns out, perhaps unsurprisingly, it’s not always true.

I think this phenomena has to begin to inform teaching, particularly the teaching of critical thinking. Why has conservative thinking– supposedly the realm of the middle-aged and older– grown so profoundly irrational? It’s entirely likely, as I said, that many of these people are good critical thinkers, in the sense of being able to buy a car or run a business or otherwise keep their lives in order.

It’s hard to imagine what sort of education system could possible inculcate a reasonable skepticism into American culture, one that would be cautious about political authority without falling into wild speculation, if not paranoia. The pedagogical dilemma: there’s a sucker born every minute. The real political genius of our age, apparently, is Gary Dahl, inventor of the pet rock.

How Not to Change

I’ve said before that I think the electronic textbook is both inevitable and desirable. In the long run, I think collaboratively run Wiki’s make the most sense for college learning, because they are flexible, collaborative, and cheap.  They create dramatically collaborative models– symbols, really– of knowledge production. These new textbooks would signal a profound shift away from old models of intellectual property that continue to hinder both the production and the democratization of knowledge. It’s a tool with enormous potential.

Access can be tailored to need or to pedagogical or even national style. Some teachers might make editing the textbook a part of their curriculum; some not.  Wikis can be modified and maintained, creating local or regional iterations of the textbook; or, if necessary, abandoned and relaunched at the start of each session. The textbook ceases to be an object and become a network of evolving knowledge. All that is well and good. What worries, me, however, is that, as in other industries, new technologies will promote disenfranchisement rather than power.

That’s what I thought as I was reading, “Early Finding of Cal State U. E-Textbook Study: Terms Matter.”  It’s an instructive example. We should  survey students about their preferences, but if 2/3’s of them are either neutral or unhappy about the technology, then I think it makes sense to develop some sort of hybrid strategy, combing print and digital technologies, at least for the near term. E-books, and my “dream Wiki” need to be easily printable in an attractive format. We just don’t know yet if digital is the future or a cognitive style or, perhaps more likely, both.