The “climate kids’” strike for a better environment and a better future inspires Nathan Eckstrand to argue for a strike to ensure a sustainable future for the humanities
The “climate kids” strike is inspiring. At an age when students are traditionally focused on studies, relationships, and hobbies, these teenagers are advocating for a solution to, perhaps, our most intransigent problem. Their words are equally encouraging. 16-year old Nobel Peace Prize nominee Greta Thunberg describes the situation by saying, “There is a crisis in front of us that we have to live with, that we will have to live with for all our lives, our children, our grandchildren and all future generations…We won’t accept that, we won’t let that happen and that’s why we go on strike. We are on strike because we do want a future, we will carry on.” The world’s children say they won’t accept the future the adults are currently leaving them, and they are right to do so. It should shame all of us that we knowingly created a deadlier world for them and did relatively little to fix it.
Their refusal to stay silent compels me to do the same in support of a similar issue: the tragic state of the humanities. For decades they have been shrinking throughout parts of the world, quite drastically so since the Great Recession. While we should not conflate an issue that poses an existential threat to the earth with the loss of institutions, practices, and ideas that help us understand the human experience, neither should we avoid clearly stating what we are losing. As philosophy, history, theology, languages, classics, linguistics, and art disappear from society, we give up our soul—the very things that make us who we are. Without philosophy we lose our ideas; without history, our past; without theology, our spirituality; without languages, our communication; and so on. Ending the humanities is the death of what it means to be human.
On a basic level, the value of the humanities is undeniable. Anyone who enjoys reading a book, appreciates good speaking, is fascinated by new ideas, or treasures knowing their ancestry benefits from the humanities. But the institution of the humanities adds to society as well. Humanities courses are among the most common courses taken at US colleges, and several polls show certain humanities fields are among the most popular college majors (one site says the humanities, as a group, are more popular than business, nursing, and health professions). At times of middle-class economic growth, humanities class enrollment normally increases, implying that when economic security is not an issue, people desire a humanities education. Additionally, research shows that humanities undergraduates feel more support from their mentors than others, that the arts produce economic wealth, that the public appreciates the qualities art cultivates, that critical thinking is an essential part of every college’s pedagogical model, and that humanities majors do very well in the workforce (in part because employers prize those trained in it).
The damage done when the humanities disappear is stark: people aren’t trained in critical thinking, communication, and basic facts about society. Rational discussion based on a common understanding of the world vanishes, replaced by dogma and antagonism. Many have realized this fact as shown by numerous articles in newspapers and magazines. Even more conservative magazines don’t advocate for ending the humanities, only de-politicizing them. Despite this near universal acclaim for the work the humanities do, the budget for the National Endowment for the Humanities and National Endowment for the Arts has been slashed numerous times over the last few decades (and Trump’s suggested budget eliminates it entirely), though it has risen slightly in the last few years. Academic jobs have disappeared across the board while more PhDs are leaving academia entirely. Multiple articles report on the attempts of governors, presidents, and other administrators to consolidate or completely slash humanities departments (two of the most recent examples are the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point’s attempt to drop 13 majors, causing protests that led to a complete abandonment of the cuts, and the University of Tulsa’s proposed elimination of the philosophy and religion departments). The only way to square these two facts is to realize just how much the adjunct crisis has affected higher education, which, as data shows, harms both students and professors. Part-time faculty have become more common than tenured, tenure-track or full-time, non-tenure-track faculty, a fact made even more disturbing when you note the disproportionate number of women and people of color occupying those positions. As the American Association of University Professors notes, this trend threatens academic freedom, a bedrock of the educational system—and democracy—for generations.
There are similar problems abroad. Arts and humanities graduates in Britain are more likely than any other type to be under-using their degree. Last March, the UK government suggested a two-tiered system for funding different degree programs—STEM programs on one tier, and arts and humanities on another—that would see the latter lose a significant amount of government money and shrink even further. The amount of money the UK’s Arts and Humanities Research Council spends each year has been relatively stable for about a decade, though inflation means this money does less now than it could previously. And the UK’s Education secretary recently called for an end to “low value” degrees (defined as any degree where students aren’t making enough in five years to begin loan repayments). While perhaps not targeting the humanities directly, this final policy makes education serve the needs of business alone, and it’s questionable whether many humanities degrees would survive this culling.
Many schools in Russia are seeing significant cuts in both faculty and budgets, and the Russian State University for the Humanities has lost many professors and administrators. Brazil’s new president Jair Bolsonaro is trying to eliminate philosophy and sociology departments altogether because of the “Marxist rubbish” they teach. Combine these facts with the numerous examples of states persecuting humanities scholars for their speech or work, and it’s clear the problem is not limited to one country.
The near universal consensus that the humanities should play a role in society, accompanied by their continuing atrophy, would at first glance seem to provide us with one of those rare easy-to-solve problems. If most people want the humanities and recognize they are in crisis, it should be easy to muster the necessary will to reinvest in them. Unfortunately, several factors currently prevent this. The first and most obvious is the neoliberal economy that demands liberal arts departments be financially sustainable. The argument that there are long-term and not directly monetizable values the humanities provide falls on deaf ears, especially when the board of trustees or other investors compel schools to focus on the bottom line. Another problem is that helping the humanities takes a backseat to other troubles. The suffering of underpaid and overworked teachers seems minor next to the world’s worst humanitarian crisis, big data’s invasions of privacy, and environmental threats. But is it wise to separate these problems? Fixing our broken politics, society, and environment requires communication, reasoned argumentation, and intellectual thought—the very things the humanities cultivate. The best path forward is not always the most obvious. While fixing the humanities is not a panacea, it may be a necessary condition for solving our other problems.
The third issue is that while solving this crisis has a consensus, the form it should take does not. The humanities are criticized for their lack of gender and racial representation (among other things), for being too political, and for not serving the vocational needs of society. Groups articulating each view often disagree with the other views, leading to fights about the best way forward. Some prefer for the humanities to fail rather than another perspective to succeed. Though the humanities aren’t perfect, they are undoubtedly better to have—even when imperfect—than to do without. The humanities are fundamental for democracy, as citizens must use them to perform their civic duties. Even if the humanities aren’t prefigured as we desire, they should be given as much consideration as we give to other democratic practices.
Some say the humanities aren’t disappearing, only settling into a new role. Advocating for them is unnecessary, since if we wait they will find a more appropriate place. The naiveté of this belief is revealed by history. The desires that produce the humanities may not disappear, but we can still lose something vital. These desires didn’t prevent Europe from falling into the Dark Ages for centuries, nor did they prevent many instances of human oppression. While the humanities have at times contributed to subjugation, abandoning them increases the likelihood we will revisit, rather than learn from, such negative experiences. When you include climate change, totalitarianism, influenza outbreaks, and more, it becomes clear we cannot trust natural or social systems to save us from disaster. And while other disasters can be observed as they happen, we may not realize what losing the humanities costs until it’s too late.
Suggestions for improvement—like recognizing that non-tenure-track positions aren’t going to disappear, understanding the power structure of your university, and organizing adjuncts on campus—are helpful but inadequate. The crisis of the humanities is global, and linked to many highly interconnected systems. Working on the local level with one’s administration, department, and colleagues will only be marginally effective, for it doesn’t raise the issue with those who need to hear about it: the public and both political and economic decision-makers. These groups need to know what they are losing and why it should be preserved. College administrators must also be pressured to support the humanities. Often, they are compelled by the college’s investors to produce profitability at the expense of a well-rounded education. Personal experience has taught me that while university officials speak glowingly of the liberal arts and how it changed their lives, they follow that up by saying economic demands are forcing cuts and layoffs. Similarly, politicians I have tried to speak with (as part of Humanities Advocacy Day) fail to show up, instead sending members of their staff to express concern without making any promises. While politicians cannot attend every meeting nor specialize in every issue (and some are concerned about the humanities), the haste and attention some issues get, compared with that which the humanities receive, indicates a set of priorities that renders this problem perpetually unaddressed. Clearly the urgency of this crisis must be conveyed.
As humanities teachers lack access to the mass media, the best way to communicate this concern may be through a strike. Though many questions need to be discussed (who would strike? what would the demand be? to whom would it be issued?), it may be the best option. The loss of education that will occur if this happens, while regrettable, is a small price to pay to ensure the humanities will remain. It is time to say that we’ve had enough of seeing friends and colleagues leave behind studies they love; of signing contracts with so many responsibilities a long-term career is impossible; of reading about teachers being unable to afford basic necessities; of families being broken up because someone is following a calling that makes staying in one place difficult. Perhaps most of all, we must reject a system that refuses to allow students to explore their passion. It is time to see what a society lacking the humanities looks like, and ask whether we find it tolerable. Now is a good time; teacher strikes are already happening in many parts of the US and the UK, with the longest strike in higher education taking place last year in the UK. And strikes have been effective in many parts of the world. While it is too early to tell if the Children’s Climate Strike will be effective, the fact that they’ve received international attention is an achievement itself. If we are not willing to pay the price necessary to ensure the humanities’ success, then this crisis will become one our children, grandchildren, and future ancestors will have to live with. And to paraphrase Greta Thunberg, that is something we must not accept.
Note: This post is co-published on the APA blog
Main image credit: https://news.liga.net/world/news/shvedskuyu-shkolnitsu-vydvinuli-na-nobelevskuyu-premiyu-mira
UCU strike image credit: Chris Bertram https://www.flickr.com/photos/chrisbertram/40033787774
Disclaimer: This post is opinion-based and does not reflect the views of the London School of Economics and Political Science or any of its constituent departments and divisions.
Nathan, you write…
” As philosophy, history, theology, languages, classics, linguistics, and art disappear from society, we give up our soul…”
But that is not what is happening, nor what you are concerned about.
The Net is filled with people all over the world exploring all these areas, for free. What you are concerned about is not the humanities, but the humanities business. The strike you suggest is in support of your business interests, your ability to get paid for working in the humanities.
You have every right to negotiate for your business interests, so I’m not making any kind of moral case here. Instead, here’s a tactical argument.
For such a strike to be successful, the people whose money you seek must perceive that the strike is about them, not about you. That’s how business works. As example, when you’re shopping for a new laptop you don’t care what Apple will get out of it, you care about what you will get out of it.
If philosophers wish to be perceived as leaders worth paying for, a strike should be about something larger than yourselves. You could join the kid’s climate change strike for instance.
Or you could strike to draw attention to the insane fact that a single half nuts person called Donald Trump can unleash America’s entire nuclear arsenal on hundreds of millions of innocent human beings without consulting a single person other than the fellow who follows him around with the nuclear football.
The problem is not that there is no opportunity for philosophers to be real leaders worth paying for. The problem is that, the job is there, and you won’t take it. The public perceives that in their own inarticulate way, even if you don’t.