Occasional Notes: Strong Agreements and Light Controversies
Jason Kuznicki on Dec 2nd 2005 09:15 am |
Leitmotif: “Steadfastness and loyalty and sincerity — that, say I, is the genuine philosophy. Other kinds of wisdom and cleverness, that lead to other results, I believe I name correctly when I term them mere embellishments.” — Plato, Letter X
Grammar and Style: As part of my temporary job, I’ve been taking a class in professional writing. One goal I had for the class was to get a better ear for business prose; while I’m accustomed to academic writing, I know that it can often seem like gobbledygook to outsiders. A review of style, mechanics, and grammar is always useful, too. Here is one that you can take online. As to style, one classic remains George Orwell’s essay “Politics and the English Language.” If you have not read it, you should, and if you only read one thing today, make this it.
War and Aftermath: The Positive Liberty contributors disagree strongly with one another about the wisdom of invading Iraq. I suspect we would agree, however, that Tom Palmer’s work toward spreading the ideas of liberty there deserves the highest praise. Plus he’s got some pretty cool travel photos.
Graduate School — Or Not? A fascinating debate took place over the past two days between Dean Dad, who says that smart undergrads should avoid graduate school, and Brian Weatherson of Crooked Timber, who argues that grad school can be the best… nine or ten years of your life (provided that you get funding to go to an elite grad school whose job placement rates make it worth the effort). Extensive comments followed, both for and against each position.
I’m probably supposed to say something about this, both because I only just left grad school and because I hope to return to academia next year. The truth, though, is that I have mixed feelings about the question.
First, I spent the most stimulating years of my life in grad school, and that anyone who finds intellectual self-betterment an end in itself will get more than they could ever want of it as a graduate student. I traveled a lot; I read fascinating books; I discovered things that no one ever knew about 18th-century France; I taught students about Voltaire and Rousseau and Robespierre. I wrote a book. Two books, if you count my travel journals, which are even longer than my dissertation. Three books, if you count the blog.
In other words, not bad for the most productive years of a typical life.
Was it a good decision financially? Of course not. I could have finished law school four years ago and been making piles of money as an attorney by now. But finance — the art of getting and losing money — is only one part of economics, the science of human choice. Economically, and in the grander sense, I made absolutely the right decision: I spent the scarce resource of my twenties learning more than I ever thought possible on a subject that fascinates me. And I’d think myself lucky indeed if I could get right back into it next year.
Is this the life for everyone? Again, of course not. What’s my advice, then?
1. Give it a try if you think you might like it, but know what you’re getting into beforehand.
–If you hate speaking in public, forget it.
–If you hate to travel, forget it.
–If you hate learning new languages, forget it.
–If you love reading, forget it, because it takes more than a love of reading. You must enjoy reading beyond all other earthly pleasures, and even then you’re likely to be sick of it by the time you’re done.
2. Don’t be afraid to bail if you hate grad school and don’t want to finish. You’ll hardly be the first. Still, keep in mind the doctrine of sunk costs, and remember to discount your previous pains to zero. (Technically, abandoning a project because of past pains that cannot be recompensed is a reverse sunk cost fallacy, about which I’ve blogged before, here and here).
3. Never take on significant debts from a graduate program in the humanities. If you’re in the sciences, the chances are good that this won’t be an issue.
4. Attend an elite institution if at all possible. While many brilliant people work at the “lesser” schools, the sad (and perfectly unfair) truth is that their students tend to have poorer job prospects afterward. I hate to say this, particularly because of my deep respect for the faculty I have met at these supposedly lesser schools, but there you have it.
Carnivalia: Rowe and I both have entries in History Carnival XXI, hosted at CLEWS: The Historic True Crime Blog. Be sure to stop by for dozens of other historical delights.
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Orwell’s essay is indeed required reading. But try applying his rules to his prose!
“Most people who bother with the matter at all would admit that the English language is in a bad way, but it is generally assumed that we cannot by conscious action do anything about it. Our civilization is decadent and our language — so the argument runs — must inevitably share in the general collapse. It follows that any struggle against the abuse of language is a sentimental archaism, like preferring candles to electric light or hansom cabs to aeroplanes. Underneath this lies the half-conscious belief that language is a natural growth and not an instrument which we shape for our own purposes.”
100-odd words when eighty would do. Orwell, meet Orwell:
“Most people who bother with the matter would admit that the English language is in a bad way, but also assume that we cannot do anything about it. As our culture decays our language–so the argument runs–must inevitably rot. Any struggle against language abuse is like preferring candles to electric light or hansom cabs to aeroplanes. Underneath this lies the half-conscious belief that since language grows naturally, we cannot shape it for our own purposes.”
Jason: If you hate speaking in public, forget it.
Not necessarily.
I absolutely despise speaking in public. It’s my least favorite thing on the planet (with the possible exception of Michael Bolton’s voice). No amount of practice or positive speaking experiences will ever erase this fundamental hate of mine. And yet, I can’t imagine wanting to do anything else than spend my life in the academy. The joy and satisfaction I receive from other parts of the job (research, writing, irregular hours, intellectual stimulation, and – oddly – teaching) more than make up for the one part I don’t like.
I’m not a big fan of public speaking. When it’s just me in the room alone teaching my students, it doesn’t feel like “public speaking” to me. Being observed/evaluated on the other hand…ugh!!
Jonathan, that’s precisely how I feel, but when I tell people that they don’t understand. The power differential in a room can make a huge difference where stagefright is concerned.
Jim — Orwell admits as much in the essay. Humility would demand no less, and here it’s with good reason.
Jon and Kris — It’s curious that you both differentiate between teaching and public speaking. To me they feel quite the same, and I had thought that someone who disliked the one would have to dislike the other. (I am nervous about many things, including athletic competitions and job interviews, but speaking or acting in front of a group — even of hundreds — has never frightened me.)