In 1971, Robert Nisbet published The Degradation of the
Academic Dogma. Although many parts of
the book can be seen as being outdated and ethnocentric, the basic argument
still is vital: Universities are about the
production and analysis of knowledge, and everything else a university does
should be considered secondary. Nisbet
adds to this “dogma,” the notion that the university has always been about
knowledge for knowledge’s sake, even though it can have profound social and
personal effects.
If we look around at the University of California today, and
other similar institutions, we can see how this foundation of the modern university
has been lost in a sea of competing interests.
Some believe that a university should focus on training students for
future jobs, while others argue that the main function of the university is
personal development. At the same time,
many recent university initiatives are directed at developing new technologies
or raising funds or contributing to the local and state economy. Many of these goals are worthy, but from
Nisbet’s perspective, they should only be indirect results of the central focus
on scholarship.
The problem then is not so much that the university is being
taken over by corporate managers or political officials; the problem is that
the production and analysis of knowledge has become just one competing interest
among others. Basic research and instruction
have thus lost their value because they are no longer the guiding priorities. From Nisbet’s perspective, university
knowledge can only remain central if it is treated with respect and faith. While this displaced religiosity may be off-putting, the main point is that students and faculty have to believe in the
incredible value of knowledge and the disciplinary methodologies that have been
established to create and circulate scholarship.
Every time a school celebrates the building of a new stadium
or corporate research park, a little part of the university dies. Our schools have lost their way, and so they
don’t mind staffing their classes with inexperienced, part-time people or
hiring administrators with no academic background. Of course, universities need funds to
survive, but when every function is sold to the highest bidder and every
learning experience is tested and quantified, there is nothing left to protect
or cherish.
In our fight to force our campuses to spend more money on
undergraduate instruction, we are trying to return to an emphasis on
scholarship and education. No fancy
technology or highly paid manager can substitute for the experience in the
classroom or lab or library.