Let me start this missive by saying that I am not an educator (nor do I play one on TV). This does not mean that I don't think about education and its aims, methods and denouement. Just the other day, I found myself brooding over the migration to digital methods of education. My son, for example, has a curriculum that requires the use of a school-issued iPad. While innovative methods are generally to be celebrated (provided they are effective), I have a growing unease about the inevitable and negative impact to productivity. Technology doesn't always make learning easier, and in some cases it introduces a great opportunity for distraction. But this is not a post about digital curriculums, and I don't want to belabor the point, so allow me to leave this subject be for another day.
As I watch my house being rebuilt before my eyes, I find myself at times just marveling at the apparent ease with which these skilled laborers and craftsmen execute their trade. I remember how long it took me as an unskilled do-it-yourselfer to simply finish off a room that had been shaped, but not completed, by a hired contractor. There are times, material considerations aside, that I envy those who excel in careers based less on degree than on the honing of a vocational skill or trade. Looking back across my life, my educational trajectory was simple: use your smarts, get good grades in high school, get the degree, go to college, get another degree, get a well-paying job and proceed on with life. The aim, although perhaps I didn't realize it at the time, was to get that well-paying desk job. Although I am a trained engineer who once worked with both hardware and software, my career now centers on my ability to think, develop concepts, communicate, and oversee those who bring my ideas to life. I can't even write software anymore. On the whole, I can accept where I am. But every now and then, I worry about never having truly learned a marketable trade. This sense was reinforced
when I read the following (emphasis mine):
In each case, I shared my theory that most of these “problems” were in fact symptoms of something more fundamental – a change in the way Americans viewed hard work and skilled labor. That’s the essence of what I’ve heard from the hundreds of men and women I’ve worked with on Dirty Jobs. Pig farmers, electricians, plumbers, bridge painters, jam makers, blacksmiths, brewers, coal miners, carpenters, crab fisherman, oil drillers…they all tell me the same thing over and over, again and again – our country has become emotionally disconnected from an essential part of our workforce. We are no longer impressed with cheap electricity, paved roads, and indoor plumbing. We take our infrastructure for granted, and the people who build it.
Today, we can see the consequences of this disconnect in any number of areas, but none is more obvious than the growing skills gap. Even as unemployment remains sky high, a whole category of vital occupations has fallen out of favor, and companies struggle to find workers with the necessary skills. The causes seem clear. We have embraced a ridiculously narrow view of education. Any kind of training or study that does not come with a four-year degree is now deemed “alternative.” Many viable careers once aspired to are now seen as “vocational consolation prizes,” and many of the jobs this current administration has tried to “create” over the last four years are the same jobs that parents and teachers actively discourage kids from pursuing. (I always thought there was something ill-fated about the promise of three million “shovel ready jobs” made to a society that no longer encourages people to pick up a shovel.)
Never mind that this letter, written by Mike Rowe, is a political letter. Rowe, who I have seen only in commercials - I have never seen his show - has hit on something here that resonates with me. Indeed, we should respect and celebrate those whose labor brings direct benefit to our standards of living. While I am not in favor of tax-payer subsidies of such industry, there is no dishonor in the pursuit of a trade-based career, and there never should be. Get the degree is the mantra of all education. But what about apprenticeship, the development of skills and craft? An easy example comes to mind: more often than not, your car is serviced by a technician, not a mechanic. A mechanic not only understands how the car works, he knows how to fix it. Technicians plug a cable into the computer in your car, get an error code, and receive a computerized set of steps to execute. Again, not to belittle the modern auto technician, but the truth is, the skill set is different than what a master mechanic brings to the table.
When the Scarecrow met the Wizard, he lamented his lack of a brain. The Wizard famously responded:
Why, anybody can have a brain -- that's a very mediocre commodity. Back where I come from, we have universities -- seats of great learning -- where men go to become great thinkers. And when they come out, they think deep thoughts -- and with no more brains than you have. But -- they have one thing you haven't got: a diploma. Therefore, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Universitatis Comitiatum E Pluribus Unum, I hereby confer upon you the honorary degree of ThD. … Doctor of Thinkology.
The Scarecrow was still a scarecrow, and he was still made of hay. The diploma didn't change that. It only changed his perception of himself, and perhaps it changed how he was perceived by others. In reality, despite his new look on life, it could have easily turned out that he remained most suited for work as a scarecrow. We have this high minded idea that a diploma elevates you to a "higher status." Some of the deepest thinkers I know do not have a degree. And they work much harder than I do for much less.
Where am I going with this? Actually, I am almost afraid to continue the thought. But here goes: the degree (or diploma) has and will continue to have marketable value in our economy. This is what we are used to. The degree opens doors that might not otherwise ever open. But we are foolish to think that such doors are the only opportunities out there for a long and fulfilling career. I don't need a guy with a degree to fix my toilet, I need a guy who knows how to fix toilets (bad example - I have plenty of toilet-fixing experience). But you get my point. The degree does not guarantee prosperity or happiness. Good men and women live good and honorable lives without one. They work hard, and are often better for it despite the struggle.
I've long considered going back to school to get undergraduate and graduate degrees in history. Now, I have pause to wonder: perhaps, if it is not too late, I should consider training in a trade, or a craft. Because I cannot help but to think that being able to do more than type and formulate words on a page would be a wise and possibly fulfilling venture, and even a precaution, especially in a future economy where opportunities might otherwise be limited.
Author Robert Heinlein once wrote:
A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.
I have spent my life wanting to learn more
about things. Hopefully, I won't miss the opportunity to learn how to
do things.
