By Holly Hickman
When the University of Bologna’s first recorded scholar, Irnerio,
began huddling over scrolls in 1088 (some four centuries before the
printing of the Gutenberg Bible), his purpose was to learn and apply
Latin grammar, rhetoric and logic to the constructs of law. That basic
schema of study later was reproduced at Oxford, Cambridge and in a new
colony across the pond when Cambridge graduate John Harvard bequeathed
his library to a new “colledge”. Over time, traditional university
subject matter offerings extended to arithmetic, geometry, music and
astronomy. All were then considered to be part of the humanities.
Today, however, public discourse often paints the humanities as less
relevant (and certainly less useful) than science, technology,
engineering and math (STEM). So much so, in fact, that entire
conferences are devoted to promoting the visibility and value a liberal
arts education. Humanities departments at elite colleges in the US
encounter “a backdrop of anxiety about the future of humanities
disciplines”, writes Professor Jean E. Howard, chair of the department
of English and comparative literature at Columbia University.
As of 2012, 16.5% of undergraduate degrees awarded in the US were in
the humanities, whereas STEM (plus business degrees) made up more than
42% of total degrees granted. These figures have shifted only by about a
percentage point over the last two decades. But that 1% has been enough
to close entire departments, including one at a university in
Pennsylvania. It’s enough to have incited one state governor, under
pressure from regional employers looking for STEM graduates, to propose
lowering tuition for those students indicating that they will
concentrate in one of the STEM fields. It’s also enough to make
professors nervous at Harvard, where the number of humanities majors has
dropped by 20% over the past decade.
“Everybody knows that STEM is the better investment,” says Andreas
Schleicher of the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development
(OECD), co-author of the OECD’s Education at a Glance 2014 report.
“Governments know that. Parents know that.”
The irony, he says, is that “demand for STEM is rising much faster
than supply. In fact, among students, there’s a trend away from STEM.
It’s somewhat stagnant in the Western world.” In fact, more than half of
new university students in OECD countries in 2012 chose to study the
humanities, social sciences and law, while only about 25% chose STEM
subjects. The numbers are slightly better in some Asian countries,
including South Korea, where one-third of students choose STEM majors.
The reason for that discrepancy is twofold: a lack of strong numeracy
training before university, especially in Western countries, and the
expense of a STEM education. Public institutions, especially those in
Europe, says Mr Schleicher, are loath to invest limited funds in STEM
departments. “You need laboratories. It’s much more expensive than
training a lawyer or someone who studies languages,” he points out.
Governments are heeding the message. In Britain, where 59% of
businesses in STEM fields believe there is a skills gap, the government
says it is investing £385m to support STEM teaching at the university
level. In March, the Confederation of British Industry lobbied the
government to go even further—to cut STEM tuition fees for students
themselves.
The Chinese government, too, is focusing on its higher education
investments. In an effort to create a more broadly educated public,
China has doubled the number of the country’s universities over the past
10 years to 2,400 and is shooting for 195m college graduates by 2020.
Although entire institutions of higher learning in China, such as Sanya
University, are devoted to the liberal arts, the country’s current
five-year plan (through 2015) aims to invest $1.6trn to support college
programmes focusing on subjects such as biotechnology, alternative
energy and advanced information technologies.
The implicit message in such government investments is that STEM is essential to the evolving, increasingly digital white-collar economy. (Governments such as Germany’s also support manufacturing and other blue-collar sectors via vocational training programmes.)
A university education, seen through that lens, may be thought of as
more of a training ground than exploratory experience, a time to lay
firm foundations for a concrete career, not ponder Kant.
This represents a change in the nature of a university education: For
centuries, it was the purview of a privileged male, one whose social
standing did not need a degree to achieve advancement. But even in 1757,
education could open doors. University of Pennsylvania records from
that year reveal that some students “came from respectable, but less
privileged backgrounds, often seeking training … that would equip them
for prompt and profitable employ”.
In those days, employable training might have meant maritime
navigation. Today, it might just as well mean SAAS, Hadoop and data
analysis. No matter the era, prompt and profitable employ stemming from
an education has been inextricably tied to the subject matter’s
perceived value in and to society. Value today often means commercial
value—service economies in China, the EU and the US are becoming
increasingly dependent on data, technology and scientific advancement.
And, in fact, a STEM degree currently offers more earning potential
than any degree in the humanities. In the US, STEM job salaries for
those with 0-5 years’ experience can start at around $60,000. By
contrast, a communications, English or sociology major can expect to
start out at around $40,000 annually. The pay differential (if not the
actual amount) is similar in the EU and in China.
To be fair, one’s college major is not necessarily the ultimate
predictor of lifetime earnings; some of the world’s most successful
people, including Richard Branson and Bill Gates, famously either
dropped out of college or did not attend at all. As an aspiring
professional opera singer, the late Norio Ogha, former president and
chairman of Sony Corporation, studied music.
But, as Mr Schleicher points out, if one can go from STEM to liberal
arts easily, the other way around is much more difficult. That’s why
Canadian Julie Payette, a gifted classical pianist and singer, has said
she chose to study engineering—music could remain a hobby while the
window for STEM was small. Her choice led her to becoming an astronaut.
Whatever the degree, the most important aspect of education for
employers remains that students learn how to think analytically. A 2013
Inside Higher Ed survey, for example, found that 84% of the business
leaders felt the ability to think critically was just as important as
the ability to think creatively.
“It’s all important,” says Dr Sangeeta Bhatia, a MD and engineering
PhD famed for her research into regenerative biology. Liberal arts, she
says, can help foster creativity and give a broad cultural context to
STEM. And STEM can foster analytical thinking, logical sequencing and a
penchant for problem solving. “At MIT, we view STEM as part of the
canon, part of cultural liberty, just like the Odyssey,” she continues.
“We require all undergraduates to take biology, no matter the major.”
Fifteen years down the road, students of today may find themselves in
careers not yet imagined while they were in school. Or, they may find
themselves working remotely, with virtual team members located across
the globe. The kind of broad cultural understanding supported by a
humanities background, combined with specialised STEM knowledge, may
help set such workers apart and keep them relevant as they navigate a
changing workplace landscape.