Build Your Own College #2: Don’t Stack Bricks

We have been talking about “building your own college.” This means: creating new institutions, to replace existing colleges and universities.

March 8, 2020: Build Your Own College

We ended our first item by asking: what do we want this “college education” to consist of? What should be its contents?

I will actually leave that topic aside for a little while now, to address some other topics related to basic conception.

This “college” should be a college, not a university. These terms are used somewhat interchangeably now, but they have some distinctions. In the United States, and also in Europe previously, a college referred to an institution of higher learning for a general, broad education for “undergraduate” students, today ages 18-21. In practice, this meant Greek and Latin, and major works in Greek and Latin, which probably does not strike us today as being very “broad,” but instead, very specialized. Nevertheless, the basic form of this “college” was small and personal. Many colleges in the United States, before the 1880s, had fewer than 200 students, and many had less than 100. They were small, tight-knit communities, and they basically had only one curriculum, which everyone participated in. There were no “departments.” There were no “graduate schools.” There was no specialization. Their purpose was largely to educate “the clergy and statesmen” — the people who would later take part in the State Assemblies of the Colonies and early United States. The clergy, in those days, were the chief intellectual class, a position now held by professors themselves. But, before 1900, many professors themselves were members of the clergy. In short, “clergy and statesmen” were the leadership class.

Imagine a tight-knit community of teachers and students, who all know each other and who are all following the same curriculum. Every teacher knows all the students personally; every student knows all the teachers. They share a vision of education that all participate in. Every teacher has experienced, and is competent in, a general “Liberal Arts” education. Inevitably, each teacher has a field in which they have more specialty, interest and experience. But, every teacher, even if their main interest is Literature, also knows History, Government, Philosophy and Arts. They themselves are representatives of the unified curriculum which they impart on their students. They are living examples of it.

This “college” model was displaced after 1880 by the “university,” which was an imported idea from Prussia (Germany). The “university” is a very large institution, with “departments” and specialization, with graduate students receiving graduate degrees. The undergraduates may have a “major” of specialization, but they partake of multiple departments, in a somewhat disorganized way. Teachers do not know their students; students do not know their teachers. There is no unified vision. The professor of English has no vision of a unified general “Liberal Arts” education — what it should consist of, or what it is for. They are concerned only with English. They themselves, the professor of English, probably does not have a good general education, a “Liberal Arts” education, and thus cannot impart it upon others. The same is true of the professor of mathematics or history. None of these professors are examples of the unified general “Liberal Arts” education that students are supposedly to receive. They are examples only of specialization; and ignorance in most other matters. The typical professor of Mathematics knows less of European history than the undergraduate who takes a single course. Basically, they are examples of how to make a living as a specialist in a university. It is, in other words, the pattern of the typical university of today.

There are a few examples of this “college” model today, such as St. John’s College. But, virtually every other institution follows the “university” model. Even an institution like St. John’s is probably, subtly, in the “university” model, with specialists in each “department.” Even here, the English professor probably knows nothing about Government. This is true, for example, in small private boarding schools, at the high-school level. Even though the high-school curriculum is largely unified, each teacher is a specialist who knows little about the other subjects.

When we consider that each teacher, in the pre-1880 “college” model, was capable of teaching the entire curriculum, then we can see that we do not need more than one teacher to begin our college. Indeed, this is how many U.S. colleges were founded: Yale University began with one teacher, and a bookshelf. It is probably not possible for a single teacher to have the kind of specialized knowledge in many fields, that a typical professor has today in their field of specialty. But, this is not necessary. The Teacher does not need to be an expert. They do not need to profess. The book is the expert. For example, a good teacher could read, together with the students, a book — let’s say it is Patrick Buchanan’s Suicide of a Superpower. Nobody, including the teacher, had read this book before. It is new for all of them. Yet, because the teacher has long experience with books such as these, he can add to the shared experience of reading this book together. His experience of it, and reaction to it, will be far more sophisticated than his 19-year-old students. As they discuss it together, the students will benefit from this mature and experienced viewpoint.

We could image that, if we had the right kind of teacher, with broad experience in many topics — let’s imagine someone like Ron Paul — you could have a whole curriculum that neither teacher nor students have read before, but the process would be enlivened enormously if the students had Ron Paul to discuss their readings with. But, inevitably, a person like Ron Paul would have a core list of items that, he felt, should be part of this education, and which he was already familiar with.

In this “college” model, there is little need for lectures. There is hardly anything that can be expressed in a lecture, which is not better expressed in a book; so, just read the book. There are some exceptions to this, and I think it is where the student is expected to do something. This is common in math and science. Often, it is good to have an example of how to work out a calculus problem. So, let’s get rid of lectures. Reading is the primary activity of our college. Our college has no math or science; not because we do not value it, but because we assume that the student has already had a Liberal Arts education in math and science in high school, and that any further study of these topics is, essentially, vocational training. There may be some involvement in math-related topics, such as statistics or using an Excel worksheet.

Once we get rid of lectures, we can also get rid of “classes,” since classes are basically gatherings for lectures. They also arise out of specialization: it is your time with the specialist. But, if our teacher is a generalist, and there are no lectures, then the course of study becomes one unified “class;” there is no need to separate it into pieces. You can read Middlemarch one day, The Guns of August the next day; and John Locke’s Some Thoughts Concerning Education the day after, without arbitrarily breaking this process into “The Nineteenth Century English Novel,” “History of World War I,” and “Early Educational Philosophy.” We do not require three separate specialist professors — three professors who are familiar with one of the three books and know nothing about the other two; we do not require our students to take three different classes from three separate departments. We do not require an institution of such size that we need three separate classes from three separate professors in three separate departments just to read three books. In time, you may read twenty nineteenth-century novels, in this way mimicking a class in the topic (or, several classes). But, it does not have to be one block over a semester, but could be spread out over four years. In this way, the nineteenth-century novel is not something that you did once, and then finished; but, has become a part of your regular life, part of the air you breathe and the water you swim in.

Our “college” may consist of nothing but reading (and writing of papers); it may consist of reading plus discussion about the reading with the teacher; or it may include, also, discussion among other students, and other things that a group of students can do together, such as staging debates or giving presentations. In addition to reading and writing, performed independently, group activity in our college should consist of discussions — perhaps, daily discussions of some length. This “discussion” should be primarily between students. Much can be gained by having an experienced participant in the discussion — basically, the teacher. However, especially today where students are trained to simply regurgitate what they are told by the teacher or be punished, the presence of the teacher tends to make students wary — they want to know what kind of behavior will be rewarded, instead of punished. Thus, much of the discussion can be done by students largely without the presence of the teacher. In my personal experience with discussion groups in college, the most exciting and productive ones were with students and no teachers (or TAs or other such guides), as only then, among equals, could a real discussion develop. Also, they were a lot of fun. In practice, a “culture of discussion” can be built, guided by the teacher, so that they can be as productive as possible.

The original vision of the purpose of a college, in U.S. history, was to provide education for the clergy, and statesmen — in other words, to provide leadership for the society and community. Even if graduates do not rise to this level of influence, taking an active role in the government, nevertheless they serve as leaders within the community, with an experienced view of government affairs and policy, and the course of their culture and society in general. Besides personal enjoyment and mental sophistication, this is one reason why the Liberal Arts study should include an extensive review of literature, visual arts, and performing arts — because, to serve as Leaders in these matters, one must have some experience to draw on. People who have a love for great literature do not have much interest or tolerance for mediocrity. People raised on mediocrity cannot imagine anything better; nor do they even have any interest in it. The result is societal mediocrity. If we look at the extraordinary output of high-quality artistic works in Europe before 1900, we must conclude that it is because the people who paid for these works — who were not themselves artists — insisted on a high level of attainment, and were willing to pay for it. Wealthy people today seem to have little or no artistic experience or understanding, and cannot manage to produce much of value, no matter how much money they spend. If they were great lovers of opera, and insisted that “I want something as good as Mozart,” then they would get it; just as Mozart’s financial backers did.

Thus, this “Liberal Arts” education is general in character. Is is broad, rather than deep. Later, after this broad education is attained, a person (if they wish) can specialize in a particular matter, and achieve Depth. Reacting to the needs of the time, people like Thomas Jefferson and John Adams studied history and government in incredible detail, even though they made a living from agricultural production. But, that came after their general education.