College is no longer about learning

I was reading the Feb. 23 issue of The Record, the story on the APP plan. The author pointed out the fact that the College of St. Benedict and St. John’s University are “tuition-driven” institutions; it even says so in an APP document. That idea did not sit right with me. Tuition-driven; it makes it feel like money is the whole point. But isn’t it? Isn’t that why we are all here?

We wouldn’t spend this much on an education if we didn’t think we would be able to make it back and then some. It isn’t even the education that’s valuable; no one really remembers everything they learned in college. The only thing that matters is the degree. That piece of paper that says, “I spent the insane amount of time and money it took to barely scrape through my classes, and now I am qualified to do something, but most importantly, make lots of money.” No wonder people don’t care about the humanities—they don’t make you any money.

There’s this book I read last semester, “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” (it’s a really great book, I highly recommend it), and there is a part where the narrator talks about grades and degrees in college. He imagines a college where there are no grades and no degrees. I’ll try to paraphrase what he said. Imagine a student, Sam. Sam goes to college for computer science out of some feeling of obligation to their parents, but they aren’t passionate about it. They slide by, miss assignments, skip class some days, but because there are no grades, there is no penalty. When they do show up for class, it becomes harder and harder to understand lectures or complete the labs. Eventually, Sam stops showing up to class entirely; there is no penalty for this. So school just isn’t for Sam, and that’s okay. They work some odd jobs until eventually they end up working for a car dealership. They become interested in the business of the dealership and take over its marketing.

Sam has some success but feels that they could do better and more. They decide to go back to college, this time with a specific purpose. Classes are easier, lectures are interesting and homework is no issue. Sam is engrossed in their studies. They never skip an assignment, have perfect attendance and they enjoy being there. Sam wakes up exited to learn. That is how it should feel to be in college, not like you’re checking requirements off a list. An education should be meaningful; at the very least, it should feel useful. That is why the liberal arts education model is becoming abandoned. There is little perceived use for things like philosophy or history. College is not about learning things anymore, it’s about getting a piece of paper that certifies you met all the requirements.

This was, of course, only natural. It is much more efficient to systematize education to create a reliable standard. They allow prospective employers to get an idea of what you know without the need for a demonstration. But this standardization isn’t just of a product or material, it’s of people. Colleges funnel students in a few general directions toward their various degrees. Then they go off to work, making as much money as they can in the least horrible way. If you’re lucky, you might actually get to enjoy how you make money. This is the rat race, the nine-to-five, the American way of life: existing only to supply labor for the corporate machine; eagerly awaiting a far-off retirement.

All of this would be just empty complaining if I did not offer an alternative. Something more realistic than completely changing the way college as a system works. There has to be some way to break free from the rat race, or, at the very least, to cope with it, right? I certainly don’t have the answer, but I do know it starts with being able to see things the way they are and imagining another possible way they could be. What I can say is this: Do what makes you happy. Don’t settle for good enough, and find something to work towards. Oh, and read “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.”