Kerr warns that universities “will become even more of an appendage of the labor market. American higher education began as an effort at moral uplift. It continues as an effort to get a good or better job. A life of affluence is replacing a philosophy of life as the main purpose of higher education” (221). I think Kerr’s perception is dead-on accurate here; the trend is undeniable, and while we give lip service to some tweedy ivy-clad ideal of the university, the reality is that the disciplines in the university getting the most money and the most attention are the not those disciplines grouped around philosophy in the original liberal-education constellation, or even the original professions of theology, medicine and law, but precisely the disciplines that promise students that “life of affluence”.
Furthermore, “The vastly increased needs for engineers, scientists, and doctors will draw great resources to these areas of the university. Also, some new professions are being born. Others are becoming more formally professional, for example, business administration and social work. The university becomes the chief port of entry for these professions. In fact, a profession gains its identity by making the university the port of entry” (83). Some may see small hope in this observation about the ways in which the university may have a role in shaping the economy, but in fact this only stands as further evidence of Foucault’s dictum that all power is relational and flows both ways between any two parties, and not as evidence of even the slightest equality of the power relation.
Of “the three models (British, German, American) of a university that were combined in the modern ‘multiversity,'” Kerr contends that the British model of the liberal education has lost ground (143). Since the date of his original lectures in 1963 (three years before the Dartmouth Seminar at which Joseph Harris places the birth of modern composition as a discipline), “‘liberal knowledge’ has been in retreat, greatly mourned but not even slightly revived, giving way to vocational and professional studies” (144). What he doesn’t acknowledge, however, is that — as elitist as the liberal education model certainly is — at least it’s consistently elitist; it’s elitism for everyone.
The new vocationalization, on the other hand, exacerbates class differences by reproducing the class structure. Kerr suggests “that the educational system of America, good as it generally is, is in the most trouble — and thus in the greatest need of federal help — at the bottom and at the top” (57). But the groups at those positions are discussed in different terms, and require differnent treatments. “At the bottom is the problem of ‘drop-outs’ from school and ‘drop-outs’ of the unskilled from the employed labor force. Through occupational training and retraining, through counseling, guidance, and relocation, these ‘drop-outs’ should be assisted to acquire skills valuable in a dynamic economy” (57). On the other hand, “At the top, the nation needs more research activity in a number of fields and more personnel of high skill — particularly engineers, scientists, mathematicians, teachers, and medical doctors” (57). Note that those “at the top” are never explicitly connected to the economy, whereas those at the bottom are very much explicitly connected to the economy and to other material concerns (“relocation”!). The message is clear: education for those “at the top” is still distanced from material concerns, while education for those at the bottom is inextricably bound up in material concerns. For the have-nots, an education connected to quotidian material needs suffices; we reserve the life of the mind for the more privileged members of our society.
Kerr explains “the fundamental shift from liberal to vocational studies” (128) by suggesting that “In American higher education, changes influenced by the market are accepted in a way that reforms originating in concerns for educational policy are not” (128). I couldn’t agree more: the market devours all and we accept it. We assume that changes wrought by the market are necessary and good, never questioning the ruthlessness of economic efficiency. Rarefied contemplation at Swarthmore and Amherst for our children of privilege; McJobs suffice for the rest. The economy is simultaneously a neutral abstraction and a concrete reality, we believe, and therefore cannot possibly be political or ideological — much less wrong.
Kerr closes that paragraph by suggesting that “An appropriate emblem for the American college might be the traditional open book, but lying on a sales counter” (128). It’s a cute thing to say, but not much of a solution. Then again, I don’t have any solutions either, except in my less hopeful moments, as I’ve expressed in other contexts. My cute saying? Call for fire. Burn the whole goddamn grid square.
Addendum: after posting this, it struck me that three days before September 11, that final statement and link is — to say the least — in poor taste. Despite that, I think I’ll let it stand, link and all. Loompanics is always worth a look; look long enough, and you’re sure to find something that makes you uncomfortable. One of the little difficulties of a free and pluralistic (though, as I keep coming back to, hardly egalitarian) society, one supposes.
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