Tenure and Violence

I’m more than a little hesitant to write about the shootings at Alabama. It sounds like an incident that we can use as an occasion to talk about the horrors of the current academic status system, which too often licenses the worst sorts of pettiness and nepotism. My sense, though, is that while tenure is involved, the real story at Alabama is the more familiar tale of our cultural embrace of violence, our cowardly gun control laws, and especially our terrible mental health care system.

It makes us look bad enough, in other words, even without thinking about tenure. (In any case, “The Trouble with Tenure” gives it a good shot.) Still, I could not help but think about this incident, and about tenure, when I was reading about something that on the surface is totally unrelated: the emerging “Free Culture” movement, which recently held it’s first conference in Washington, D.C. It’s not as media-sexy as Tea Bagging, but in the long run Free Culture is much more important.

The students complain that their promotion of “free software and open standards, open access scholarship, open educational resources, network neutrality, and university patent policy” faces ambivalence on the part of some professors. I think that to a student, a tenured professor at a large research school or a small literal arts college, seems privileged beyond all imagining. They teach a few classes, and write a few articles (on a subject of their choice), get paid well, and can’t be fired.

In fact, most don’t have tenure, are not on the so-called tenure track, don’t have time to write much of anything, have too many students, and don’t get paid well. With certain exceptions, the ever-shrinking groups of privileged professors (as the tenure story reminds us)– are more and more interested in protecting their own material and social interests. It’s not surprising that students would find some professors ambivalent about the political risks– and material losses– of Free Culture.

Economic Literacy

Everyone’s got their own favorite form of literacy: emotional, mathematical, computer, or cultural. But I think economic literacy needs to get a lot more attention. A good critical thinker can tell shit from shinola, and you can’t do that in a capitalist economy unless you understand something about economics. I’m not talking about the intricacies of macro or micro economics as much as I am about the basic assumptions that underlie our particular dismal system.

It’s important to see the assumptions as assumptions rather than facts. Economics, as they say, is an interested subject, profoundly shaped by the underlying interests of the economist. That’s why this piece by Henry Banta in the Nieman Watchdog, despite its partisan-sounding title, is so helpful (“Republicans are locked in a passionate embrace with a corpse and won’t let go“). Banta provides a road map rooted in the particular purposes of various strains of economics.

The media rely heavily on, “those employed by Wall Street and various commercial interests,” whose job is to try to assist their employers in making money. There’s no shame in that task (at least not necessarily) but this group’s perspective is necessarily limited by their pragmatic goals. Banta’s more interested (rightly so) in the academic economists, whose perspective is, at least potentially, much broader. It’s their economic theories that have the widest impact.

Banta focuses on the idea of rational choice, and the “efficient market hypothesis,” an economic theory that has driven conservative economic thought (not all Republican) at least since the 1970s. Arguably, the first great rational choice policy maker was Ronald Reagan. Our current mess, Banta says, is rooted in the failure of these ideas. It’s a persuasive argument that’s worth reading. He also mentions several other pieces that help flesh out the emerging critique.

Cynicism and Realism

I can’t be surprised at what seems to be a note of bitter cynicism in “Graduate School in the Humanities: Just Don’t Go,” a recent piece in the Chronicle of Higher Education by Thomas H. Benton. I don’t think that the general public is quite aware of the destruction done by the last generation or two of university administrations, especially in the liberal arts. It’s the same sort of violence against the public good that’s been done by corporate leaders in the last two decades, but it’s even more hidden in plain sight, if such a thing is possible.

It’s such a hassle to use your health insurance that half of the time you don’t. If you’re sick in any serious fashion, and you don’t have health insurance, you either can’t get it or it’s too expensive. All of your bills have to be treated like competitive games designed to cheat you whenever possible, especially the bank and your credit cards. If you are not careful, a small mistake can cost you thousands. Houses are investments. We all have our own lists, of course, and maybe few would include graduate school in the liberal arts, but it’s become another market scam.

The only trouble I have with this sort of thing is the implicit notion (in Benton’s piece as much as in the comments) that there is no solution, or, at least, the suggestion that the only solutions are either traditional bourgeois consumer individualism (“vote with your feet” and “make a better choice”) or legislative reform. There are a lot of good reforms being proposed, especially around student loans, but none of them get at the heart of the problem. If everyone walks away, there just won’t be any liberal arts anymore. What we need is democratization of the university itself.

Paying Attention

I’ve been mulling over a conference presentation I’m doing this Spring (Computers and Writing 2010) and I was happy to find that some current research has confirmed a set of ideas that I’ve had for a while. Or, rather, they confirm that some basic ideas need rethinking. It’s a kind of cliche in my field to say that students know more than their teachers about technology. In fact, what I have observed is that students know different things about technology or even different technologies than their teachers.

A recent Pew study (“Social Media and Young Adults“) confirms this in several ways, noting, for example, that teenagers rarely use Twitter. The study also confirms the importance of fads in technology, suggesting, for example, that the blog has begun to fade. There’s also increasing evidence that another of our basic notions– that students are better multitasking– is wrong. It turns out that multitasking feels great but doesn’t work well if you want to retain knowledge (“Media multitaskers pay mental price, Stanford study shows“).

Multitasking seems best suited for busy work that doesn’t require concentration; it also seems unsuited for the sorts of learning we do in the classroom. So teenagers turn out to be just teenagers: suspect to trendy, short lived enthusiasms and resistant to the sorts of focused efforts demanded by teachers. My hope is that this bodes well for writing instruction, at least to the extent that we can drop the hype and can get back to our roots as a discipline rooted in the cultivation of contemplative thought.