Universities no longer have direction

BURNABY, B.C. (CUP) — Universities are in the midst of a crisis. Unlike so much else in the world today, it's not a financial, staffing or ideological crisis — it's an identity crisis.

It's the fact that nobody, not the government, not the schools and certainly not the student body, knows what they want university to be anymore.

I think a lot of this can be traced back to timidity and a fear of appearing elitist. As universities became de-facto meritocracies and their admissions processes no longer focusing quite so heavily on your father's land holdings, attitudes towards post-secondary began to change.

The scope of university education began to swell. The modern Canadian university now encompasses the curricula of yesteryear's universities and colleges, its art and trade schools. When "university" became socially synonymous with "worthwhile," and the term "academic" lost all specific meaning, it became difficult to justify not welcoming every possible field of study.

If university exists primarily for society, then it would logically behoove us to rank university degrees in terms of social applicability. After all, if we're directing taxpayer dollars to the task of bettering society through the university, we must admit that the average Hollywood lighting expert will not help the country as profoundly as the average medical researcher.

Of course, it's not politically possible to explicitly discriminate on such grounds, but if a student studying Proust and taking a few classes in creative writing gets as much taxpayer help on a per-credit basis as one studying for medical school or to be a teacher, the whole premise becomes a fallacy.

It also ignores the fact that Canada currently needs trade-school graduates more desperately than university-educated people of almost any discipline. If the concern actually were societal health, our university funding would be redirected to secure an abundance of plumbers, not chemists and certainly not English majors.

If the university exists primarily for the individual student, we run into a different but equally damning problem: Why is it our neighbours' responsibility to assist us in enriching ourselves? A citizen would expect no help if they wanted to take a pottery class, but can expect roughly 70 per cent paid if they want to study Nietzsche. There is nothing inherently different between these two fields of study.

If the issue is simply the availability of information, then the university is less important than the library and far less important than the Internet. Instruction is important, but it's not vital, and while everyone has a right to read and learn whatever they like, they don't have a right to a service that shoves this information down their throat for them and accredits them at the end.

University degrees are financial investments, some more sound than others. I speak as someone who has historically paid for school by working minimum wage jobs while taking substantial student loans, and I have never fully understood the indignant moral outrage surrounding tuition levels. Financial hardship, in that uniquely tame North American sense of the term, is simply not something worthy of all that much selfpity.

Editorial opinions or comments expressed in this online edition of Interrobang newspaper reflect the views of the writer and are not those of the Interrobang or the Fanshawe Student Union. The Interrobang is published weekly by the Fanshawe Student Union at 1001 Fanshawe College Blvd., P.O. Box 7005, London, Ontario, N5Y 5R6 and distributed through the Fanshawe College community. Letters to the editor are welcome. All letters are subject to editing and should be emailed. All letters must be accompanied by contact information. Letters can also be submitted online by clicking here.