Reflecting on the value of college

There’s no denying that the cost of a college education has spiraled out of control in recent years, increasing at rates several times greater than what everyday inflation accounts for. The numbers are astounding, as many people will tell, but there’s really no incentive for institutions to lower their price tags. Universities think of themselves as businesses with a product to sell, and potential students as customers—customers willing to buy pretty much regardless of the costs. Thus, we find schools in the midst of an arms race to build bigger and better facilities, with new feature selling points. Unfortunately, the quality of education itself hasn’t seen quite the same growth, and return rates on gaining a degree have actual fallen. And yet societal pressure has continued to give many people the implicit impression that college is the only option for a high school graduate, or at least the only one that won’t lead to a seedy life of drugs and crime, or at least abject poverty.

In reality, though, how about it: is college really worth the cost in time and money? Well… personally I would say it depends. First of all, it depends on what your career plans are; regardless of whether most of your undergraduate experience will prove relevant on the job, for some occupations it really isn’t optional. It also depends on where you go and what you end up paying, and whether you can afford to be paying it. Your situation may vary. Then, most of it comes down to what you make of it and what you’re able to get out of it.  I don’t think that most students take full advantage of the various opportunities and resources offered to them in exchange for their money. And really, it would take a whole lot of benefits to justify the more than $60,000 a year some American students pay.

The level of success (or incarceration) achieved by those who attend university against those who do not is statistically relevant, but says more about the socio-economic background of those who fall into each group, rather than the effectiveness of college in producing smarter or more qualified workers. Looking at experiences of people like Bill Gates, Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerberg may not lead to the conclusion that massive success necessarily follows those who spurn the pursuit of a college degree, but it does cast doubt on the necessity of higher education.  Clearly it isn’t a prerequisite to entrepreneurial success, or even success such intellectual fields as writing—just look at Charles Dickens or Mark Twain (perhaps the most celebrated British and American writers, respectively), who received no formal education after the age of 12. Much of knowledge one might need can be self-taught, or gained on-site in the workforce. Autodidactic learning and formal education needn’t be mutually exclusive, of course. Few people will be become great scientists, inventors, engineers, mathematicians, writers, anatomists, botanists, and geologists all on their own (I’m looking at you Leonardo da Vinci), and most wouldn’t even think of trying. There’s no limit to what you can (note: can) learn on your own, but it’s good to have a space designated for learning, where you can come across diverse perspectives and hone your own critical thinking skills in the thought-provoking discussions such a place facilitates. Universities are a place for people to explore themselves.

Is college a must for everyone? No. Is it worth nearly a quarter of a million dollars over 4 years? Probably not. But we can’t disregard its importance, despite its problems.

(Side note, I read an interesting book in high school for AP Lang called “Beer and Circus,” a reference to that Roman strategy of distracting/placating the masses. Only in this case it’s beer instead of bread, and the circus is big NCAA sports and the party culture surrounding them—these things distracting them from the lack of meaningful education they’re receiving at the back of a 500-student lecture taught by a TA. The book touches on various institutional issues and shortcomings.)

On the freedoms to be offensive and offended...

If this blog post turns out to be amalgam of sorts, don't be surprised; my ADD mind isn't the best at staying on one track. On one hand the intended focus is on specific, international current affairs. More abstractly, it's about beliefs, and navigating the conflict that arises when they clash. Few things seem as interesting to me as our belief systems, these problematic things that even the most irreverent among us must have, which we care so strongly about and pour so much of ourselves into. We forge our identities about them, and are always ready to defend them fiercely and blindly. 

Surely we've all seen and heard enough of the recent Charlie Hebdo shooting and aftermath that I don't need to go into great detail. And as this blog post is already on track to be unreasonably long, I think I'll try to frame my focus on the occurrences of the past couple days. In the wake of all the Je suis Charlie and condemnation of religious extremism, there's now been another string of protests, these against Charlie Hebdo and its most recent depiction of the Prophet Muhammad on its front. Many have been relatively peaceful, but anyone turning on world news on Monday saw images of violent rioters in Niger, where 10 were killed and many more wounded. Personally, I was almost bothered more by the confusedness of it than the violence. How was ripping apart bibles and burning dozens of Christian churches and schools a logical response to the irreligious sentiment of an adamantly atheist publication? It shouldn't be surprising that angry people are conflating vaguely related entities in their search for targets; this French-language blasphemy = France = the West = Christians. I suppose once the torches are lit something has to be burned. Need I even ask why there was an Israeli and American flag being burned alongside the Tricolore?

I could get off on a theological tangent, looking to medieval representations of Muhammad in the Muslim world and pointing out the Quran never exactly actually forbids this, but I don't think any explicit religious canon should be the focus here. In large part, Charlie Hebdo's offensive cartoons are intended as provocation, even with the rather reconciliatory tone of the headline that accompanied the latest cover, "Tout est pardonné." The things they publish may often seem vulgar or gratuitous, and they've offended the sensibilties of far more than one or two groups--no doubt its perceived poor taste has had something to due with the magazine's fairly limited circulation in the past (about 60,000 copies, normally). But none of this has stopped the outflowing of support since the January 7th attacks, as evidenced by the millions of copies the last edition has sold and the largest public demonstrations France has ever seen. I'll refrain from indulging myself with that oft-misattributed quote about defending to the death a certain right of yours, despite our differences in opinion. Still, it is applicable. Even those that consider themselves moderate, I think, should recognize the important role played by shockingly blasphemous satirists. They challenge our beliefs, yes, but more important they create a zone of free speech in which we can operate safely, expressing our comparatively mild ideas.

Part of me can't help but worry that I might be hypocritical in saying all this, given that there are certain opinions in the US I would rather see disappear (including some very racist and homophobic ones). Frankly, I'm not sure how to answer the seeming paradox in tolerating intolerance. But there is a fundamental difference between objecting to a viewpoint and trying to forcibly prevent it from being shared. I've had to roll my eyes of late whenever certain segments of the right lament the death of free speech because some insensitive comment is facing public criticism (people who wish to rant about the First Amendment really should gain a better understanding of it). Perhaps public censure discourages open exchanges of ideas in a way, but the encroachment would be far worse if we tried to limit others' ability to object to our beliefs.

If there's one thing everyone on every side of every issue can find common ground on, it's the enjoyment of some good ol’ righteous indignation.