A lot of people are beginning to question the value of higher education. Much of this questioning is important, in my opinion, but it’s easy to read about these issues and crushing student loan debt elsewhere. Here, I really wanted to reflect on some of the more personal elements.
Last night, out of sheer curiosity, I took a look at one of the local university’s history programs, just to see what it involved. As recent posts may hint, history and archaeology have really been on my mind lately, so I’ve simply been curious. Forgetting the egregious typos on their department webpage, I of course found some of the certificate programs to be intriguing, only to realize that what defined the certificate was one core class aided by 4 or 5 electives. And the list of electives was so large, I had to wonder what really defined one certificate from another. What sort of knowledge would I really come out of the program with? The only real answer is, “more knowledge”. Great. Thanks.
If a program is just a smattering of electives, most of which can only be taken during the rare chance they are actually being offered a given semester, who’s to say you’re getting a thorough education for that subject, and not simply going through the motions of reading and writing assignments for some adjunct’s pet project? At that point you may as well just take a trip to the book store and buy a few books on the subject!
It sounded cool, I’ll give it that. But like a lot of things, I suspect the allure is greater than the reality after the price you pay.
I don’t wish to knock on higher education too hard. Some jobs require it, and some people really find their calling in academia. But I like my money.
The two are not necessarily incompatible, but what I appreciate about money over credentials is that I can buy pretty much any book I want without even looking at the price. I can spend $500 on a metal detector. I can fly to other cities and countries and visit historical sites (at least when there’s not a pandemic 🙁 ). If the goal is to actually acquire knowledge, then this is the ideal situation for learning more. And if things had gone differently and I had taken the academic route, this could be a very different story. Again, not necessarily, but it’s very likely. I might still owe on my student loans, too, which would affect my ability to do these things.
But it’s hard! It’s been a long time since I really acquired a credential. Software development, not to be confused with IT, has a few certifications that may be valuable, but most involve databases, which is not the direction I want to take with my career. If you work in IT and networking, you have dozens of certs to chose from, but that’s different from software. It would be fun to study anthropology again, in some way. But why do I even need or want credentials? I’ve continued learning over the years, and this will never stop. I hate to say it, but I think the great appeal of credentials is the same reason I’ve struggled with books: earning credentials (or reading books) is often a way to trick the mind into perceiving progress. What’s really hard is deep, thorough learning, which is difficult to measure. But you can ignore this difficulty if the goal is simply to complete a program, read a book, or earn a credential (and I’m mostly referring to liberal arts programs, but some people manage to fake their way through some impressively difficult things).
Now, there’s no shortage of exceptions to this. I’m not going to detail them all because this blog is not about making people feel good. A part of me still wants to get a Master’s degree sometime in the future, maybe once the big ol’ money pile is complete. But why? Because I’m a history guy, I’m an anthropology guy. Those are subjects that excite me and make me come alive. Why wouldn’t I want to be associated with them in some clear, definitive way?
But this exposes something interesting: people often treat their credentials as an extension of their identity.
I don’t have much more to say about this, because this alone I find really fascinating. Is it healthy to treat our credentials as an extension of our identity? Maybe. Maybe not. I’m sure it depends on how you handle it. But I have to question whether this really plays into my goals. Again, there are so many better things in life than what you do for work, so if establishing your identity harms your family, maybe you should consider a different identity? But if it doesn’t…maybe that’s okay? What about the opportunity cost of these programs? Will earning a credential actually open doors, or could it be false hope or even ignorance of the unpleasant side of the job you think will bring you lasting fulfillment? If I were fully retired with that clean $1.2 million and had a paid off house and happy family, would I need to establish my identity more? Would there be any real purpose?
No answers, just questions. But questions worth asking.