I found out recently that my university plans to integrate massive open online courses (MOOCs) into the curriculum in the coming years, which has created a bit of a stir among the faculty. Part of the fear is that the quality of learning in such a large and often asynchronous environment does not compare to the traditional classroom. A larger fear, I believe, is that easier access on the part of students combined with increased reach for the most gifted instructors threatens job security.
As a future professor, I share both of these fears. But amidst the uncertainty and my desire to claim that MOOCs have no place in higher education, I found myself trying to figure out what the hell education is anyway.
A continuous (and perhaps inevitable) push and pull between the idealistic and the realistic aspects of education are a recurring theme in my mind. In an idealistic world, education is important for its own sake. Moreover, in a nation of the self-governed, a more intelligent citizenry is key for a functioning civil society (whatever that looks like).
Realistically, some people are just plain stupid. We can't all be Harvard graduates, and if we were, the McDonald's cashier down the street would understand why I gave him $10.41 for a $6.41 order. I firmly believe that college isn't the best investment for everyone, but culturally we accept that truism.
Education -- or at least the certification a diploma brings -- has become a point of differentiation. Simply put, there is value in education.
But how is this value quantified? I have always found the language I hear around universities interesting. For example, students are "getting" a degree and graduates already "have" one. Despite being more accurate, I less often hear of people "pursuing" a degree or "working toward" something in their given fields of study. Education has become more valuable as a possession than as a process, but all the idealistic merit is in the latter.
Graduates possess only a diploma, which may or may not reflect how educated they are. We have subjectively and arbitrarily decided that four years of classes certifies graduates to work "better" jobs. I'm not necessarily opposed to such a system because it does require work to earn a degree, university systems provide some means to evaluate skill, and liberal arts educations typically brings some level of enlightenment to students -- even if by happenstance. But to conflate such a system with education often amounts to little more than a bait and switch necessarily perpetrated to keep university lights on nationwide.
So are MOOCs a form of higher education? In the idealistic, process understanding of education: maybe. In the realistic, commodified sense: depends on the university ROI.
This blog is largely dedicated to political and social commentary. I post about topics that either interest me, piss me off intensely, or quite frankly leave me dumbfounded. Tell a friend, leave a comment, and take the ride, though it's sure to be no roller coaster (probably more akin to the teacups actually).
Friday, May 31, 2013
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
The appeal of austerity...and why it doesn't work
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Photo by Pen Waggener |
Austerity is an intuitively pleasing policy agenda because it relies on the simple mathematics of input and output. My issue with austerity isn't the end goal of debt and deficit reduction, it's that austerity is based on false assumptions and, most importantly, it doesn't work.
A recent study by Herndon, Ash, and Pollin entitled "Does High Public Debt Consistently Stifle Economic Growth? A Critique of Reinhart and Rogoff" essentially calls bullshit on the austerity endeavor.
In 2010, Harvard economists Reinhart and Rogoff published a set of studies that found when the public debt-to-GDP ratio exceeds 90%, economic growth comes to a grinding halt. Herndon and company found a number of issues with Reinhart and Rogoff's study worth mentioning. If your pressed for time or need a laugh, here's Colbert's take on it:
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