opinion
Andrew Miller: ‘Job-ready’ education policy worth a degree of reflection as it places less value on humanities

Raw Australia has only encouraged the Celtic iconoclast in my bone marrow. The symbols and ceremonies of wealthy, powerful institutions do not move me - they seem pathetic next to the drama of our vast remote coasts. Elaborate edifices erected to reinforce the authority of organisations are more likely make me shake my head than doff my cap. My son graduated from a lush lawn and limestone university last week - a monument to colonial architecture and proud Oxbridge educational traditions. It is the alma mater of his sister, aunt, father and grandfather before him; his great grandfather taught there. He is the only one of us though who had to pay big fees to watch his lectures online and submit assessments through the portal. It was with some discomfort - from the heat and a sense of unbelonging - that I found a seat in the great hall. One alumnus who had made something of themselves - post hoc ergo propter hoc - was invited to speak and advised the newly qualified to “pay attention to the things you see that others don’t.” I wrote that down. Unfortunately, I looked over at the brilliantly fresh young class and saw a sea of debt. The financial burdens we are imposing on this generation are unconscionable. The relative pricing of tuition due to our federal “job-ready” education policy places even less value on most humanities - at a time when we need an understanding of history, philosophy and the arts more than ever. We all know it is love and understanding - not the relentlessly hollow power of money - that we pine for, yet here we are punishing the artists for reminding us. We’re still shooting the fragile messengers. Like everything touched by the magical PowerPoints of management consultants, higher education has moved from being a priesthood of intellectual inquiry, cloistered from the crass market economy, to one of soulless spreadsheet metrics. “Do I have to go to the ceremony - what difference does it make?” asked my typical uni student son. I pondered awhile. “I think you should go to watch yourself graduate. Take your chance to participate in something rare, just to see what it’s like.” A pipe organ playing in a large hall often sounds like a tram derailment, but this black-gowned puller of the stops seemed to have tamed the beast, setting an almost harmonious tone. The speeches were mercifully taut, and the graduands filed awkwardly across the stage one by one to have their cameo photo with the bejewelled Chancellor. The crowd degenerated as time went on, as they do. After counting the stained-glass panels in the feature window and wondering how they got those massive rafters up there, you can only look forward to hearing them pronounce the names with no vowels. Some family members injected a bit of colour with footie-fan behaviour to embarrass their long-suffering child, and grandparents struggled with their phones while filming themselves and the floor. The graduands scanned their socials and expressed mild surprise at who had managed to stick around and finish the course - the same way we all feel about our cousins. The ceremony worked in several respects - my reluctant son looks rightly proud of himself in the photos. He was glad he attended in the same way that someone might feel a funeral or wedding helped them to accept reality. The significance of the day will grow over time, and the habits of learning and belonging will distil into something good. Ceremonies don’t hurt that much. I will never seek them out, but I rarely regret having attended the rituals that find me. In true contrarian style, rather than pay attention to “that which I see, and others do not,” I might try harder to notice all the things that seem obvious to everyone except me. Despite all my biases, I think I learnt something just by sitting down and shutting up for a while.

opinion
Andrew Miller: ‘Job-ready’ education policy worth a degree of reflection as it places less value on humanities

Everyday Digital

$8 per week

Everyday Digital & Weekend Papers

$10 per week

opinionAndrew Miller: ‘Job-ready’ education policy worth a degree of reflection as it places less value on humanities

Everyday Digital

$8 per week

Everyday Digital & Weekend Papers

$10 per week

opinion
Andrew Miller: ‘Job-ready’ education policy worth a degree of reflection as it places less value on humanities