Teaching and Learning > DISCOURSE
What is a University Education For?
Author: Thomas Hancocks
Journal Title: Discourse
ISSN: 2040-3674
ISSN-L: 1741-4164
Volume: 10
Number: 2
Start page: 79
End page: 84
Return to vol. 10 no. 2 index page
This essay was the winning entry in the Subject Centre for PRS annual student essay competition.
If we were asked for what end, above all others, endowed universities exist, or ought to exist, we should answer—to keep alive philosophy.1
In the wake of recent political and economic moves it seems that the question of the purpose of a university education has gained a new sense of significance. It is by no means a new question and has no doubt been posed since the inception of the first university, that of Bologna, almost a millennium ago. The fact that it is so pressing a question means that many have tried to answer it and this is no bad thing, for we can use their attempts to aid our own task of understanding the role of the university in our modern age. The answers of a few, due to the uniqueness and adroitness of their thought, are particularly apt for aiding our task, namely those of Montaigne, Schopenhauer, Emerson, Mill and Nietzsche. There is only room to consider minute fragments of their respective oeuvres but the potency of what they disclose is enough to justify their inclusion.
In my own opinion the role of university education is tripartite: first, to encourage free thought and critique, providing society with individuals that possess such skills; second, to provide knowledge in an impassioned yet non-dogmatic fashion; knowledge that primarily serves to edify and aid the life of the student and secondarily their career, and third, to further knowledge of science, in all its multifarious forms, and of culture, in terms of disciplines like humanities, social sciences, languages etc. (The two are in my opinion not mutually exclusive and in many ways the furtherance of one means the furtherance of the other.)
In times of economic or political hardship, it seems to be all too much the case that governments turn the focus of education towards the production of skilled individuals who, upon graduation, move immediately to positions in the economy where their role is to aid and support its growth. Prima facie, this may seem like the most commonsensical thing to do. Yet in this change of focus there is always the risk that governments may neglect the importance of those whose role is precisely not to be economically assimilated but to rather stand outside of the state and the economy and subject them to question and critique. This is arguably as important, if not more, than filling the economy with a skilled workforce, as these individuals can scrutinise the role of the workforce, putting it to better use.
The 18th Century conservative statesman Edmund Burke holds that the 'one sure symptom of an ill-conducted state is the propensity of its people to resort to theories.'2. But perhaps Burke's formulation can be turned on its head to read, 'the sign of a well-conducted state is the freedom and ability of its people to offer theories.' This is one of the salient purposes of a university education, to offer to society individuals who are able to question the efficacy of aspects of the state. Indeed, the ability to critique is not only important in the political sphere but is an important skill for any student to have in general. As the 16th century humanist Charles de Montaigne states, 'Let him (the student) avoid... authoritative and unmannerly airs and that puerile ambition of trying to appear more clever, because he is different, and to gain a reputation for being critical and original.'3.
Original thinking stems from the criticism of ideas, to put things to question is to will change which in turn is to seek new approaches through which change can be realised. If universities can train autonomous, free-thinking individuals then they can be put to work approaching the aspects of the state that are ill-functioning or outdated. Their role would be to keep things organic, advising politicians, presidents and diplomats, and by perpetually putting to question the functioning of the state they can strengthen it and ensure it responds well to the inevitable difficulties and obstacles that befall it. It would be the role of universities to equip such individuals with the critical skills needed, edifying them and providing the knowledge needed to aid their task. The question thus follows; what knowledge should universities be providing their students and what is the best means of teaching it? If universities are to cater for and promote individualism, which in many ways they should, it is difficult to know the best way of approaching the teaching of all. Different students require different information from their pedagogues, though perhaps it is possible to establish underlying episteme which may benefit all students, irrespective of their discipline.
The 19th Century philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer offers one such aspect of edification:
Students and learned men of every kind and every age go as a rule in search of information, not insight.They make it a point of honour to have information about everything...When I see how much these well-informed people know, I sometime say to myself: Oh, how little such a one must have had to think about, since he had so much time for reading!'4
While the acquisition of knowledge is clearly important for every student and budding professional, less clear is the means by which such information should be provided.
Schopenhauer opposes education that is overly focused on promoting assiduous reading or ceaseless 'fact-acquiring' because it takes up time which a student could otherwise spend thinking for themselves. Universities should focus on providing 'insight' rather than heaps of information, and give the student the chance to gain the former by allowing them time for thinking and self-reflection amongst their busy university schedules. But what would such insight be like? Well, perhaps it could come through stressing the importance of a student's interpretation over the tutors didacticism, clarity of thought over the ability to recite information and the quality rather than the quantity of understanding. As Nietzsche states:
'the all too frequent exploitation of youth by the State, for its own purposes—that is to say, so that it may rear useful officials as quickly as possible and guarantee their unconditional obedience to it by any means of excessively severe examinations—had remained quite foreign to our education.'5
The worst approach to education, for Nietzsche at least, is that which provides students with information and then 'severely' examines their ability to retain it. While the knowledge that a university provides is important, so too is the disposition of the student being taught. Who is learning is perhaps as important as what they are learning and while students should not be the malleable tools of the state, it may be possible to find ways in which students can position themselves to better learn.
The 19th century American essayist Ralph Waldo Emerson holds that:
If the finest genius studies at one of our colleges and is not installed in an office within one year afterwards...he is right in being disheartened and in complaining the rest of his life. A sturdy lad... who in turn tries all the professions, who teams it, farms it, peddles, keeps a school, preaches, edits a newspaper... and always like a cat lands on his feet, is worth a hundred of these city dolls. He walks abreast with his days and feels no shame in not 'studying a profession,' for he does not postpone his life, but lives already.6
But how does this help us to understand what universities are for? Well, perhaps if universities focused less on achieving targets or improving research and more on their students learning experience then feedback would be more favourable and they would be under less scrutiny from the government. Though to improve the learning experience of the student is not only to ameliorate teaching standards; it is to provide students with the chance for a more rounded and humanistic education. As Emerson makes clear, students with a wealth of life experience who have worked in a plurality of trades are often more knowledgeable and receptive to learning than those who have been primed for one vocation.
There is an apt old phrase of Aristotle's, translated into Latin, which reads, 'primum vivere deinde philosophari'—'first live then philosophise'—in terms of education we may translate this as 'first experience life, then undertake your studies.' For students to get the best out of their university education they should be given the chance to explore many avenues. If universities encourage students to pursue other paths concomitant to their books and studying (perhaps sports, artisanship or a trade), and actively include this in their curriculum, then the ramifications can only be beneficial. If the only end that knowledge serves is economic betterment or providing individuals with a plethora of inter alia historical, juridical, medical or scientific facts, then it is perhaps fair to say that knowledge is not serving the useful purpose that it potentially could.
So what, if anything, is knowledge useful for? Well, as made perspicuous above I believe knowledge, and its dispenser the university, can be usefully oriented towards the furtherance of science, in all its multifarious forms, and of culture. There is the tendency, and the current government is unequivocally guilty of this, to regard these two spheres as mutually exclusive. But this, I think, is a mistake. Culture, to mention but a few things, is comprised of elements such as the humanities, art, music, theatre and literature. Universities can aid a great deal in the improvements of these things and can moreover show people that 'cultural betterment' does not just mean improved art galleries, more concerts or more investment in theatres (which is not to detract from the importance of these things). Rather culture serves a more personal and profound purpose, granted not for all but for so many. As the 20th Century French playwright Antonin Artaud writes, 'We can begin to form an idea of culture (through) a protest...A protest against our idea of a separate culture, as if there were culture on the one hand and life on the other, as if true culture were not a rarefied way of understanding and exercising life.'7
Culture, be it music, painting, writing or films, can help us understand and deal with life; it can offer solace in times of difficulty and humble us in times of pride. As such, the propagation of culture through the disciplines of art, humanities, literature and music should be at the forefront of a university's agenda, as well as its concern with the progress of science. Nietzsche, in a series of lectures in 1872 aptly titled On the Future of Our Educational Institutions, opines, 'I see a time coming when serious men, working together in the service of a completely rejuvenated and purified culture, may again become the directors of a system of everyday instruction, calculated to promote that culture... but how remote this time seems!'8
Perhaps if equal emphasis is place on culture and on science then such an age, and all the humanistic benefits therein, will not seem so far away. Universities have existed in the West for close to a millennium. Throughout this time they have faced threats from the church, from foreign invaders, from persecutory laws and now from the government. They have proved themselves to be tenacious institutions, but this is not the point of their existence—it is instead to educate, advance learning and provide society with useful citizens. With governmental support, and not its apparent opposition, universities can serve their role of encouraging free thought and critique, providing knowledge in an impassioned way and furthering our knowledge of science and culture. Perhaps then the question of what a university education is for will be self-evident and not in need of scrutiny.
Endnotes
- Sedgewick, 'Discourse on the Studies of the University of Cambridge', in Dissertations and Discussions, Mill, J.S., (London: George Routledge & Sons) p.77.
- Edmund Burke cited in Hobbes, R. Peters, (Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1979), p.190
- Montaigne, M., The Essays of Montaigne Vol. 1, (trans. Trechman, E.J.) (London: Oxford University Press, 1942), p.153.
- Schopenhauer, A.,Essays and Aphorisms, (trans. Hollingdale, R.J.) (London: Penguin, 2004), p. 227.
- Nietzsche, F., On the Future of Our Educational Institutions, (Milton Keynes: Lightning Source, 2010), Preface, p.25.
- Emerson, R. W., 'Self- Reliance' in Selected Essays, Lectures and Poems, (ed. Richardson, R. D.), (New York: Bantam Books, 1990) p.164.
- Artaud, A., The Theatre and its Double, (Surrey: Oneworld Classics, 2010), p.5.
- Nietzsche, F. (ibid.) Preface, p.7.
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This page was originally on the website of The Subject Centre for Philosophical and Religious Studies. It was transfered here following the closure of the Subject Centre at the end of 2011.
