Monday | December 11, 2000
Home Page
Lead Stories
News
Business
Sport
Commentary
Letters
Entertainment
Flair
Star Page

E-Financial Gleaner

Subscribe
Classifieds
Guest Book
Submit Letter
The Gleaner Co.
Advertising
Search

Go-Shopping
Question
Business Directory
Free Mail
Overseas Gleaner & Star
Kingston Live - Via Go-Jamaica's Web Cam atop the Gleaner Building, Down Town, Kingston
Discover Jamaica
Go-Chat
Go-Jamaica Screen Savers
Inns of Jamaica
Personals
Find a Jamaican
5-day Weather Forecast
Book A Vacation
Search the Web!

Expanding academic perspectives


Stephen Vasciannie

THEY ARE the academic elite of the next generation. Not, of course, the entire population of the academic elite ­ for some of those have moved on to foreign institutions of learning, some have opted for other tertiary institutions at home, and another subset have decided to remain outside the confines of the formal education system ­ but they form a solid cluster, even the core, of the next generation of intellectuals in Jamaica.

Many of them have been required by the University of the West Indies to pursue a number of "Foundation Courses", and so, this semester, they find themselves in a course called "Law, Govern-ance, Economy and Society": what can they expect under such an all-embracing title?

And, why, many of them ask, are we obliged to take such a course? Are we not medical students, determined to heal the sick and comfort the afflicted, regardless of their status within the economy and the society? Are we not teachers, already well-versed in the realities of governance and social interaction in the country? Are we not natural scientists, anxious to push forward the frontiers of technical knowledge without having to deal with the verbiage of the lawyers and the social scientists?

Moreover, are we not all products of our society, and, by definition, naturally familiar with the issues abroad in that society? We could have selected individual courses concerning law, government, economics, and sociology, but in many instances we did not; why then are we being compelled to take this ragbag that, from its very title, seems to be neither fish, flesh nor fowl: nothing more than another unwelcome, arbitrary imposition by university lecturers with nothing better to do.

These attitudes, all of which were evident among some students at the start of this academic semester at Mona, probably still prevail at the end of the semester. They suggest that several students believe that the University of the West Indies should be not a university, but a technical institute, at which candidates are exposed to narrow, specific areas of learning, but are left to address broader questions of social, economic and political reality through casual or unstructured mechanisms, if any at all.

Narrow school

Is this position justifiable? University education is costly, and it is constructed in large part upon an edifice of specialisation. Accordingly, in the interest of maximising exposure to specialist skills in the context of limited resources, there is a case for arguing that education beyond the limits of the student's area of specialisation contributes to inefficiencies within the system. Those who argue from this perspective might also suggest that every university moment spent by, say, a physicist away from the laboratory, or from the necessary equations, is a wasted moment in intellectual and financial terms.

The narrow school perspective may also be bolstered by reference to certain dangers inherent in broad, survey courses, that must be completed in twelve or thirteen weeks of study. In the first place, where a course sets out to survey, rather than penetrate, particular fields of learning, there is the considerable risk that the student learns a lot about very little: the charge of dilettantism looms prominently, as the student is perceived as switching from question to question, becoming a leader in trivial studies, but lacking real understanding of particular issues.

Secondly, there is always the risk that broad, survey courses, particularly in the social sciences, become little more than ideological sessions at which one particular viewpoint is consistently hammered home. There was a time when Marxism was the fashion, for instance, and now, one must be careful to ensure that all-encompassing doctrines of say, globalisation, liberalisation, or regionalism, are not passed on to students as if they are elements of scripture.

And, thirdly, those inclined to oppose survey courses will also point to the dangers of parochialism. More specifically, mainly because of time constraints, the lecturer in a course on "Law, Governance, Economy and Society", for instance, will be tempted to confine the substance of the course to a particular society. Not only does this make the course more manageable, it also helps to disguise the limited knowledge that the lecturer may have as to other societies. How many Jamaican lecturers are equally adept at comparing the social policies of Kenny Anthony with those of Vaughn Lewis, on the one hand, and assessing the historical place of the University of Woodford Square, on the other?

Independent thought

But, although there are pitfalls, and although there will be resistance in the initial stages, the case for developing and presenting survey courses at the tertiary level is overwhelming. This argument takes its primary force from the underlying purpose of university education: the development of the capacity for independent thought and analysis among students.

In many instances, students develop this capacity for independent thought and analysis by pursuing their specialist courses, and, indeed, this model recommends itself to some tertiary institutions: so, for instance, Law at Oxford has traditionally been about law, and very little else -- and, so too, I daresay, at the University of the West Indies.

But, it does not require a considerable leap of imagination to argue that independent thought and analysis are enhanced by an appreciation of the wider forces at work in society. The chemist may need to concentrate on ionic equations, but she also exists in a context which may one day determine whether funds are available for further research, so clearly, she enhances her potential by understanding the nature of the social forces that determine the allocation of resources. Similarly, the biologist may understand the technicalities of the ecosystem, but is at a disadvantage if he has no grasp of how individuals in the society are likely to react to arguments about environmental protection that may impinge on their conception of survival.

The examples could be multiplied with ease. But the basic point is that when the specialist's learning is placed in its social context, this may create a greater understanding of the constraints and realities that help to shape the direction of the specialist's training. To be sure, this is not an argument that survey courses must lead students along the path of quiet acceptance of economic constraints; on the contrary, by helping to increase social awareness, survey courses should enhance the student's capacity to think strategically, and thereby to make more informed decisions for themselves and for their societies.

Perhaps for some, all this seems self-evident. But others have still resisted. One hopes, however, that exposure to matters concerning the structure of Caribbean governments, the Caribbean Court of Justice, the nature of our prison system, the sources of national wealth and poverty, the role of the police, the gender imbalance in education, the place of Jamaican music in the world, the process of budgetary allocation, and the drug crisis, will sharpen the minds of students. If it will also help students along the path of critical thinking and sincere scepticism, who could complain?

Specialists should not only live in the world, they should also be of the world.

Stephen Vasciannie, an attorney-at-law, teaches at the University of the West Indies.

Back to Commentary










©Copyright 2000 Gleaner Company Ltd. | Disclaimer | Letters to the Editor | Suggestions