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College: Pathways of Possibility
What are the avenues of postsecondary educational experience available to the student in India today?
Can college education be tailored to one's specific talents and meaningful to the world at the same time?
Is there indeed such a thing as native intelligence? What is the ideal education to bring such intelligences to life?
What are the possible curricular relationships between the arts and the sciences; the qualitative and the quantitative, the theoretical and the experiential?
How deeply should a college education be rooted in a discipline? Should one cultivate one disciplinary strength or multiple ones?
What is more valued by employers - depth or range?
College provides accessible answers to these questions that will resonate with students with a wide range of life aspirations. It is an erudite and interesting guide to the possibilities contained in the rapidly changing realm of higher education today.
It is essential reading for current and future college students, their parents, educators and anybody interested in the rich potential in the terrain of post secondary education in post-millennial India.
Can college education be tailored to one's specific talents and meaningful to the world at the same time?
Is there indeed such a thing as native intelligence? What is the ideal education to bring such intelligences to life?
What are the possible curricular relationships between the arts and the sciences; the qualitative and the quantitative, the theoretical and the experiential?
How deeply should a college education be rooted in a discipline? Should one cultivate one disciplinary strength or multiple ones?
What is more valued by employers - depth or range?
College provides accessible answers to these questions that will resonate with students with a wide range of life aspirations. It is an erudite and interesting guide to the possibilities contained in the rapidly changing realm of higher education today.
It is essential reading for current and future college students, their parents, educators and anybody interested in the rich potential in the terrain of post secondary education in post-millennial India.
126 pages, Paperback
Published December 18, 2017
About the author
Saikat Majumdar
18 books31 followersSaikat Majumdar is the author of four novels, two books of nonfiction, and the co-editor of a volume of essays. His most recent book is The Middle Finger, a campus novel that examines the intricacy of the teacher-student relation through the lens of ancient myths. Previous novels include The Scent of God (2019), a story of romantic love between two boys in a Hindu monastic boarding school, and The Firebird (2015), which narrates a young boy’s destructive relation with the art form of theatre through his mother’s life as an actress. The Scent of God was one of Times of India’s Most Talked About Books of 2019 and a finalist for the inaugural Mathrubhumi Book of the Year Award, and The Firebird was finalist at the Bangalore Literature Festival Fiction Prize and the Mumbai Film Festival Word-to-Screen Market. The Middle Finger was longlisted at the Atta Galata-Bangalore Literature Festival Book Prize 2022. Saikat's other works include a work of general nonfiction, College: Pathways of Possibility (2018), of literary criticism, Prose of the World (2013), and a co-edited collection of essays, The Critic as Amateur (2019).
Saikat is Professor of English & Creative Writing at Ashoka University. He has taught previously at Stanford University, was a Newhouse Fellow at Wellesley College, and a Fellow at the Stellenbosch Institute of Advanced Study. He writes regularly on higher education and literature in different venues, including the Hindu, Hindustan Times, Los Angeles Review of Books, and the Times Higher Education.
Saikat is Professor of English & Creative Writing at Ashoka University. He has taught previously at Stanford University, was a Newhouse Fellow at Wellesley College, and a Fellow at the Stellenbosch Institute of Advanced Study. He writes regularly on higher education and literature in different venues, including the Hindu, Hindustan Times, Los Angeles Review of Books, and the Times Higher Education.
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
May 23, 2021
All about higher education - how it is like in India and how it is like in the west. It compares different college/university educational systems and the author offers his views on what a college degree should be like. The book reads like a research paper. It will keep you hooked if you are interested in this topic. I found many things insightful and interesting. It gave me a clearer perspective on how to navigate my own higher education.
November 18, 2022
The Past, Present and Future of Intelligence, Education and Employment!
Is education simply consumption of knowledge? Is intelligence brought about solely by traditional academic disciplines, or does it include the entire spectrum of human sensibilities-the ones we are born with? What are the possible curricular relationships between the arts and the sciences; the qualitative and the quantitative, the theoretical and the experiential? Is there indeed such a thing as native intelligence? What is the ideal education to bring such intelligences to life? What are the cognitive pathways between biophysical faculties and the disciplines? What are the most creative and productive ways in which we can relate to the world? What is more valued by employers-depth or range? And is common sense common?
In this book, novelist and academician Saikat Majumdar explores the above questions, drawing upon his own experiences of growing up and studying in India and then in the United States.
In dogged pursuit...of family dreams!
For someone like me who has been working in the corporate space for more than 15 years, these questions often haunt me. Despite being a multi-lingual who has lived across several small Indian villages/towns, whose names most people might never have heard of; I have no qualms in acknowledging and accepting the fact that I never really received the kind of career guidance that kids my age who lived in bigger cities did. In my small town I did not have that kind of exposure. Sometimes I feel that what we don’t know often comes to us disguised as a blessing. For I was spared the painful and often backbreaking task of enrolling in coaching centers, cramming MCQs, and solving practice papers meant for admission to elite engineering colleges. Especially the famed IIT. I had opted to study Commerce. And hence was already out of the rat race. Not that getting admission into a reputed college for an undergraduate course in commerce proved easy for me. But that is a story for another day.
But I did witness my own sister, and many of my classmates moving to bigger cities like Allahabad, Varanasi, Lucknow, Kanpur and even Calcutta, from our small town in Singrauli, Madhya Pradesh. Their sole aim was to study at one of the many tutorial centers that lured students with the promise of getting an enviable rank at the IIT entrance test.
I clearly remember the day my parents and I packed my sister off to Allahabad on the then tri weekly Tribeni Express, so that she could enroll herself at one of the many engineering and medical coaching centers that dotted the city’s educational landscape. While seeing her off at the railway station, I don’t remember her being in a particularly happy or chirpy mood, though my parents were beaming. And why not? One of their offspring’s, the more deserving one at that, was about to set off on her journey to becoming an engineer or a doctor.
Just like my sister and her friend, there were millions of students who moved cities, spending a year or two living and studying in shared accommodations, within cramped quarters, while denying themselves all the comforts. Leading an almost monastic life with whatever pocket money their parents could afford.
In the chapter 'The Clerical', the author cites an article that appeared on Quartz.com, where Alankar Jain, a prospective IIT’ian recounts a spine-chilling note that he came across while renting a room in Kota, while studying for his IIT entrance exams. The note read “I spent my worst years in this room. It’s your turn now.” I wonder now, whether a dogged pursuit to claim a seat at the IIT is worth all the happiness in the world, particularly for an youngster like the person who etched the graffiti on the nondescript walls of a rented accommodation in Kota, Rajasthan.
I am past that stage in life when I was in constant tussle with myself and my family over what profession/undergraduate course I would choose. In my family it was given that one of us two sisters had to either become an engineer or a doctor. The onus though fell on my sister who is the elder one to preserve our family traditions. My father was an engineer, and my grandfather and uncle were doctors. So, my sister, poor girl, had big shoes to fill! Having chosen to study commerce in high school, I had managed to escape any expectations. Lucky me, or so I thought back then, until my turn came few years later.
Have our inherited realities pushed us towards choosing conventional professional careers?
I always wanted to study English literature as an undergraduate, primarily because I had a natural flair for the language and was an avid reader, as most of my teachers and close friends would agree. But also, because I was never really interested in subjects such as Mathematics, Physics, Chemistry, Biology or History. My father holds an engineering degree from the illustrious REC or NIT as it is now known, and my mother holds a double M.A. in History and Political Science. Yet, I wasn't interested in either. I was good in certain subjects, and average in the rest, but was touted as that all-rounder student in school who wanted to dabble in everything, be it debates, elocutions, dramatics, music, or sports.
Now as an adult who perhaps belongs to that age group that my teachers were then, I think my beloved teachers back in school saw in me a ‘rare’ mix of enthusiasm, honesty, and never-give-up attitude, coupled with a bright spark. Probably why they always encouraged me to participate in every extra-curricular activity that was ever held. It is because of my teachers, plus my fear of missing out, FOMO as it known among youngsters now, during the entirety of my school life, that I have never missed participating and winning (most of them) these activities.
Despite my dreams and aspirations, when the time came to take the most important decision of choosing a discipline, my parents pushed me towards more conventional professional streams. My love for studying English literature was pushed to a far corner. Rather than making my dream of walking along the revered corridors of JNU whose extremely difficult undergraduate entrance exam I had easily cracked earlier that year, a reality, I had to feign happiness studying Bachelor’s in Commerce in a Tier II college. The dilly dallying between whether I should go to JNU to study literature or pursue a more conventional/professional undergraduate program cost me a seat in one of the more reputed colleges in Calcutta, a city that I never wanted to go in the first place. I think I still have that telegram from JNU, reminding me to appear for a personal interview somewhere around April-May that year. I had already cleared the entrance test and all that remained between me, and English literature, was a train ride to Delhi and an interview that I was confident of acing.
At that precise moment when the telegram arrived, I was studying for my twelfth board exams that were just round the corner. I remember I was sitting in a cane chair in our garden in rural Madhya Pradesh, my Economics textbook sprawled across my lap. I was so happy that I cried! I think I have that telegram stowed away somewhere at my parent’s house in Durgapur. A reminder of what could have been!
In the chapter aptly titled The Promiscuous, this is exactly what the author writes. He says, “It is against this inherited reality that the obsession with professional education, which has defined the national middle class for the last several decades, begins to appear as an intense, pointed, and determined phenomenon.” In my case, this statement could not be any truer.
And as a dear friend rightly observed, that my renewed obsession to read literature, write stories, attend writer’s workshops, and literary festivals is a rebellion of one kind. Perhaps to make up for lost time.
Is common sense common?
Earlier in this blog, when I spoke about that bright spark that my teachers saw in me back in school, I think I can now attribute that spark to intelligence. Although back then, in all my naiveté, I didn’t quite understand what being intelligent meant. As far as I knew, I was just being my usual self. I can imagine that this statement might sound slightly boastful now. But truth be told, that is how it was in school.
In fact, in one of the chapters in the book titled Who is an Intelligent Person, the author asks some relevant questions that we often discuss casually among ourselves, but never with the sincerity or seriousness that it deserves. He narrates a domestic air travel incident wherein one of his co-passengers while adjusting the overhead cabin baggage compartment inside the aircraft to make space for his own luggage, remarked good humoredly "This is a matter of common sense." Not only did the gentleman quickly make space for his own luggage, but enough for other passengers as well-all without blocking the aisle, and in no time. The author perceives this kind of common sense as a form of pattern-recognition in the spatial, bodily, and emotional dimensions-of space, body, and emotions, all rolled into one at a given moment. I would like to believe that back in school I really did possess these qualities. Qualities that could fall well within the realm of common sense, as is described by the author.
While annotating educationist and cognitive psychologist Howard Gardner’s belief that common sense should be praised and its lack mourned, the author observes that common sense is perhaps not common. A conclusion that can be easily drawn from the aircraft incident.
What kind of intelligence is valued by employers?
As a sustainability professional working in this field for the past twelve years, I am constantly reading annual reports, 10-Ks, management reports, sustainability reports, public policy documents, regulatory documents, NGO reports, parsing through lawsuits filed by one corporation against the other, among several other documents. Consequentially, I often find myself staring at the computer all day long looking for data and information that would enable me to assess a company’s sustainability performance or a regulation that would increase the company’s business risk profile. In order to achieve this, I must use my ‘trained eye’ that I have painstakingly honed over the years and look for that specific sentence/information, hidden between paragraphs. Missing that critical information is not an option. But I often wondered, how did I ever become an expert in my field.
I found my answer in this book. In one of the chapters, the author refers to Howard Gardner's analysis of two kinds of intelligent people that have been in the spotlight for the last twenty years now- since the turn of the millennium. One is the symbol analyst, a person who can read patterns, including letters and numbers, decipher critical information basis which they would make important strategic decisions, projections, etc. The other being the ‘master of change’, one who acquires new information and through it solves problems, manages a motley group of people, and easily adapts oneself to evolving situations. Given my current scope of work, perhaps I can now unabashedly acknowledge that I can see a symbol analyst as well as a master of change in myself. Just like most of my peers working in corporates and institutions.
What does it mean to develop personal intelligences?
In the chapter The Souls of Discipline, the author writes about the development of personal intelligences and its importance in management and administrative courses. Touching upon Multiple Intelligence theory he explains how this theory embodies the souls of the discipline that focuses on the diverse perspectives they bring to illustrate a topic, theme, or issue. Rather than being obsessed with just the content itself.
I have often wondered about this myself. Particularly when I shortlist and interview candidates. Whatever be the seniority level, I am always on the lookout for that little spark that my teachers saw in me back in school. Most candidates who make it to the interview round do so purely by virtue of their academic credentials and/or technical skills that they wax eloquent in their resumes, and a written test too, at times. However, it is only during the personal interview does an interviewer get to know the real person behind those impressive resumes. I for one, am always keen to know the candidate’s perspective on a certain subject, and not what they have learnt in their academic curriculum. Sometimes, an out of the box thinker but with fewer academic credentials impresses me way more than one carrying an impressive resume but lacking that spark. At least that is what I usually do-unless the position is extremely technical where only possessing specific technical skill sets matter.
Learning is not just cramming the syllabus, but understanding its epistemic forms as well
As a sustainability professional who must read and interpret a gamut of subjects, ranging from carbon emissions, climate change, labour concerns in the supply chain, human rights, mental health, diversity, sexual harassment at workplaces to bribery and corruption-my line of work requires a mix of intuitive theories developed in childhood-something that the author also touches upon in the chapter Souls of Discipline combined with not looking at things as the author again notes “as a stereotype-of having a singular viewpoint, with alternatives difficult or impossible to conceive.” Elaborating further, he says, “Learning a subject is not merely about covering a canon in detail or taking in a lot of information; it is also assuming the very mode of thought that defines and distinguishes that particular discipline.”
From my personal and professional experience, I can vouch for the accuracy of the author’s response, in its entirety. Whatever I may have learnt during my undergraduate studies as well as during my MBA, none of these learnings came solely by reading the prescribed chapters of various subjects. There was another element that superseded any learning that I may have imbibed. It is what is known as the author says “understanding the epistemic forms” of the disciplines. Or, those relating to the learning, understanding the rationale and belief behind what is being taught and acknowledging and addressing our beliefs behind this learning.
The author elaborates this kind of understanding. He says, “Such a student will navigate life-and any career they craft for themselves-not with the knowledge or memory of the canon of the discipline, but rather with the understanding of the epistemic forms of the discipline in which they specialised in college.”
When I started my corporate journey, I was plagued with self-doubt despite being an all-rounder throughout my school-the formative years in anyone’s life. I wondered whether I had been cut out for a corporate life what with my obsession with literature. But now I feel that I am doing just fine with my kind of intelligence that covers spatial, bodily, and emotional dimensions. College-Pathways to Possibility has only reaffirmed that belief.
Is education simply consumption of knowledge? Is intelligence brought about solely by traditional academic disciplines, or does it include the entire spectrum of human sensibilities-the ones we are born with? What are the possible curricular relationships between the arts and the sciences; the qualitative and the quantitative, the theoretical and the experiential? Is there indeed such a thing as native intelligence? What is the ideal education to bring such intelligences to life? What are the cognitive pathways between biophysical faculties and the disciplines? What are the most creative and productive ways in which we can relate to the world? What is more valued by employers-depth or range? And is common sense common?
In this book, novelist and academician Saikat Majumdar explores the above questions, drawing upon his own experiences of growing up and studying in India and then in the United States.
In dogged pursuit...of family dreams!
For someone like me who has been working in the corporate space for more than 15 years, these questions often haunt me. Despite being a multi-lingual who has lived across several small Indian villages/towns, whose names most people might never have heard of; I have no qualms in acknowledging and accepting the fact that I never really received the kind of career guidance that kids my age who lived in bigger cities did. In my small town I did not have that kind of exposure. Sometimes I feel that what we don’t know often comes to us disguised as a blessing. For I was spared the painful and often backbreaking task of enrolling in coaching centers, cramming MCQs, and solving practice papers meant for admission to elite engineering colleges. Especially the famed IIT. I had opted to study Commerce. And hence was already out of the rat race. Not that getting admission into a reputed college for an undergraduate course in commerce proved easy for me. But that is a story for another day.
But I did witness my own sister, and many of my classmates moving to bigger cities like Allahabad, Varanasi, Lucknow, Kanpur and even Calcutta, from our small town in Singrauli, Madhya Pradesh. Their sole aim was to study at one of the many tutorial centers that lured students with the promise of getting an enviable rank at the IIT entrance test.
I clearly remember the day my parents and I packed my sister off to Allahabad on the then tri weekly Tribeni Express, so that she could enroll herself at one of the many engineering and medical coaching centers that dotted the city’s educational landscape. While seeing her off at the railway station, I don’t remember her being in a particularly happy or chirpy mood, though my parents were beaming. And why not? One of their offspring’s, the more deserving one at that, was about to set off on her journey to becoming an engineer or a doctor.
Just like my sister and her friend, there were millions of students who moved cities, spending a year or two living and studying in shared accommodations, within cramped quarters, while denying themselves all the comforts. Leading an almost monastic life with whatever pocket money their parents could afford.
In the chapter 'The Clerical', the author cites an article that appeared on Quartz.com, where Alankar Jain, a prospective IIT’ian recounts a spine-chilling note that he came across while renting a room in Kota, while studying for his IIT entrance exams. The note read “I spent my worst years in this room. It’s your turn now.” I wonder now, whether a dogged pursuit to claim a seat at the IIT is worth all the happiness in the world, particularly for an youngster like the person who etched the graffiti on the nondescript walls of a rented accommodation in Kota, Rajasthan.
I am past that stage in life when I was in constant tussle with myself and my family over what profession/undergraduate course I would choose. In my family it was given that one of us two sisters had to either become an engineer or a doctor. The onus though fell on my sister who is the elder one to preserve our family traditions. My father was an engineer, and my grandfather and uncle were doctors. So, my sister, poor girl, had big shoes to fill! Having chosen to study commerce in high school, I had managed to escape any expectations. Lucky me, or so I thought back then, until my turn came few years later.
Have our inherited realities pushed us towards choosing conventional professional careers?
I always wanted to study English literature as an undergraduate, primarily because I had a natural flair for the language and was an avid reader, as most of my teachers and close friends would agree. But also, because I was never really interested in subjects such as Mathematics, Physics, Chemistry, Biology or History. My father holds an engineering degree from the illustrious REC or NIT as it is now known, and my mother holds a double M.A. in History and Political Science. Yet, I wasn't interested in either. I was good in certain subjects, and average in the rest, but was touted as that all-rounder student in school who wanted to dabble in everything, be it debates, elocutions, dramatics, music, or sports.
Now as an adult who perhaps belongs to that age group that my teachers were then, I think my beloved teachers back in school saw in me a ‘rare’ mix of enthusiasm, honesty, and never-give-up attitude, coupled with a bright spark. Probably why they always encouraged me to participate in every extra-curricular activity that was ever held. It is because of my teachers, plus my fear of missing out, FOMO as it known among youngsters now, during the entirety of my school life, that I have never missed participating and winning (most of them) these activities.
Despite my dreams and aspirations, when the time came to take the most important decision of choosing a discipline, my parents pushed me towards more conventional professional streams. My love for studying English literature was pushed to a far corner. Rather than making my dream of walking along the revered corridors of JNU whose extremely difficult undergraduate entrance exam I had easily cracked earlier that year, a reality, I had to feign happiness studying Bachelor’s in Commerce in a Tier II college. The dilly dallying between whether I should go to JNU to study literature or pursue a more conventional/professional undergraduate program cost me a seat in one of the more reputed colleges in Calcutta, a city that I never wanted to go in the first place. I think I still have that telegram from JNU, reminding me to appear for a personal interview somewhere around April-May that year. I had already cleared the entrance test and all that remained between me, and English literature, was a train ride to Delhi and an interview that I was confident of acing.
At that precise moment when the telegram arrived, I was studying for my twelfth board exams that were just round the corner. I remember I was sitting in a cane chair in our garden in rural Madhya Pradesh, my Economics textbook sprawled across my lap. I was so happy that I cried! I think I have that telegram stowed away somewhere at my parent’s house in Durgapur. A reminder of what could have been!
In the chapter aptly titled The Promiscuous, this is exactly what the author writes. He says, “It is against this inherited reality that the obsession with professional education, which has defined the national middle class for the last several decades, begins to appear as an intense, pointed, and determined phenomenon.” In my case, this statement could not be any truer.
And as a dear friend rightly observed, that my renewed obsession to read literature, write stories, attend writer’s workshops, and literary festivals is a rebellion of one kind. Perhaps to make up for lost time.
Is common sense common?
Earlier in this blog, when I spoke about that bright spark that my teachers saw in me back in school, I think I can now attribute that spark to intelligence. Although back then, in all my naiveté, I didn’t quite understand what being intelligent meant. As far as I knew, I was just being my usual self. I can imagine that this statement might sound slightly boastful now. But truth be told, that is how it was in school.
In fact, in one of the chapters in the book titled Who is an Intelligent Person, the author asks some relevant questions that we often discuss casually among ourselves, but never with the sincerity or seriousness that it deserves. He narrates a domestic air travel incident wherein one of his co-passengers while adjusting the overhead cabin baggage compartment inside the aircraft to make space for his own luggage, remarked good humoredly "This is a matter of common sense." Not only did the gentleman quickly make space for his own luggage, but enough for other passengers as well-all without blocking the aisle, and in no time. The author perceives this kind of common sense as a form of pattern-recognition in the spatial, bodily, and emotional dimensions-of space, body, and emotions, all rolled into one at a given moment. I would like to believe that back in school I really did possess these qualities. Qualities that could fall well within the realm of common sense, as is described by the author.
While annotating educationist and cognitive psychologist Howard Gardner’s belief that common sense should be praised and its lack mourned, the author observes that common sense is perhaps not common. A conclusion that can be easily drawn from the aircraft incident.
What kind of intelligence is valued by employers?
As a sustainability professional working in this field for the past twelve years, I am constantly reading annual reports, 10-Ks, management reports, sustainability reports, public policy documents, regulatory documents, NGO reports, parsing through lawsuits filed by one corporation against the other, among several other documents. Consequentially, I often find myself staring at the computer all day long looking for data and information that would enable me to assess a company’s sustainability performance or a regulation that would increase the company’s business risk profile. In order to achieve this, I must use my ‘trained eye’ that I have painstakingly honed over the years and look for that specific sentence/information, hidden between paragraphs. Missing that critical information is not an option. But I often wondered, how did I ever become an expert in my field.
I found my answer in this book. In one of the chapters, the author refers to Howard Gardner's analysis of two kinds of intelligent people that have been in the spotlight for the last twenty years now- since the turn of the millennium. One is the symbol analyst, a person who can read patterns, including letters and numbers, decipher critical information basis which they would make important strategic decisions, projections, etc. The other being the ‘master of change’, one who acquires new information and through it solves problems, manages a motley group of people, and easily adapts oneself to evolving situations. Given my current scope of work, perhaps I can now unabashedly acknowledge that I can see a symbol analyst as well as a master of change in myself. Just like most of my peers working in corporates and institutions.
What does it mean to develop personal intelligences?
In the chapter The Souls of Discipline, the author writes about the development of personal intelligences and its importance in management and administrative courses. Touching upon Multiple Intelligence theory he explains how this theory embodies the souls of the discipline that focuses on the diverse perspectives they bring to illustrate a topic, theme, or issue. Rather than being obsessed with just the content itself.
I have often wondered about this myself. Particularly when I shortlist and interview candidates. Whatever be the seniority level, I am always on the lookout for that little spark that my teachers saw in me back in school. Most candidates who make it to the interview round do so purely by virtue of their academic credentials and/or technical skills that they wax eloquent in their resumes, and a written test too, at times. However, it is only during the personal interview does an interviewer get to know the real person behind those impressive resumes. I for one, am always keen to know the candidate’s perspective on a certain subject, and not what they have learnt in their academic curriculum. Sometimes, an out of the box thinker but with fewer academic credentials impresses me way more than one carrying an impressive resume but lacking that spark. At least that is what I usually do-unless the position is extremely technical where only possessing specific technical skill sets matter.
Learning is not just cramming the syllabus, but understanding its epistemic forms as well
As a sustainability professional who must read and interpret a gamut of subjects, ranging from carbon emissions, climate change, labour concerns in the supply chain, human rights, mental health, diversity, sexual harassment at workplaces to bribery and corruption-my line of work requires a mix of intuitive theories developed in childhood-something that the author also touches upon in the chapter Souls of Discipline combined with not looking at things as the author again notes “as a stereotype-of having a singular viewpoint, with alternatives difficult or impossible to conceive.” Elaborating further, he says, “Learning a subject is not merely about covering a canon in detail or taking in a lot of information; it is also assuming the very mode of thought that defines and distinguishes that particular discipline.”
From my personal and professional experience, I can vouch for the accuracy of the author’s response, in its entirety. Whatever I may have learnt during my undergraduate studies as well as during my MBA, none of these learnings came solely by reading the prescribed chapters of various subjects. There was another element that superseded any learning that I may have imbibed. It is what is known as the author says “understanding the epistemic forms” of the disciplines. Or, those relating to the learning, understanding the rationale and belief behind what is being taught and acknowledging and addressing our beliefs behind this learning.
The author elaborates this kind of understanding. He says, “Such a student will navigate life-and any career they craft for themselves-not with the knowledge or memory of the canon of the discipline, but rather with the understanding of the epistemic forms of the discipline in which they specialised in college.”
When I started my corporate journey, I was plagued with self-doubt despite being an all-rounder throughout my school-the formative years in anyone’s life. I wondered whether I had been cut out for a corporate life what with my obsession with literature. But now I feel that I am doing just fine with my kind of intelligence that covers spatial, bodily, and emotional dimensions. College-Pathways to Possibility has only reaffirmed that belief.
May 28, 2023
Very useful insights into the college system in India and how to make the most of my journey here.
Interesting aspects:
1. Encourage a broader liberal arts education than the clerical system prevalent in India which emphasizes depth at the undergraduate level
2. Be promiscuous with exploring many subjects which helps develop broader creativity
3. Do not have a monofocal view of intelligence as IQ, but be aware of Gardner's theory of many intelligences- the spatial, the bodily-kinaesthetic, the musical, the logical-mathematical, the linguistic, the personal intelligences (interpersonal and intrapersonal), the naturalist, the spiritual and the existential intelligence. Cultivate at least two if not more through college.
4. There are two main ways a field is taught in universities- the coverage model which attempts to cover the entire history of a discipline premised on depth; and a model centred on exploring the epistemic forms, the soul of a discipline based on a broader framework. Understanding this epistemic form of our particular discipline is crucial to doing well in it.
5. College is to teach a certain set of skills through the discipline. Sometimes, the particular discipline becomes tangential as the skills themselves are important- critical thinking, interpersonal communication, analytic skills, imaginative ability etc.
6. Give students the choice to choose, but have a few basic courses that cover diverse fields early on.
7. In India, research and teaching are almost entirely separate to the tune of different institutions that do either. Instead, the author advocates a Humboldtian model of teaching and research being intertwined. The consumption and the production of knowledge should not be seen as different. The Indian model developed as a result of the colonial need to provide clerks for the bureaucracy and not for the open flexible intellectual that Ivy League American universities or Oxbridge sought to create.
8. He notes that we should maybe begin to see the university as more of an open loop, instead of a fixed time in one's life; where we move from uni to work, then back again to reskill, then to different work; and the cycle continues. Education should not and indeed cannot be restricted to solely one part of our life. One also needs a variety of intelligences to do well at one's job, it is not solely strictly the field-relevant intelligence that is important. He cites the example of the architect who must negotiate with the workers, the government etc.
9. Storytelling is an integral part of human social life and indeed it is through it that we understand life. Thus, the humanities subjects attain importance; as based on this subjective aspect, away from the monofocal focus of Indians on science.
Interesting aspects:
1. Encourage a broader liberal arts education than the clerical system prevalent in India which emphasizes depth at the undergraduate level
2. Be promiscuous with exploring many subjects which helps develop broader creativity
3. Do not have a monofocal view of intelligence as IQ, but be aware of Gardner's theory of many intelligences- the spatial, the bodily-kinaesthetic, the musical, the logical-mathematical, the linguistic, the personal intelligences (interpersonal and intrapersonal), the naturalist, the spiritual and the existential intelligence. Cultivate at least two if not more through college.
4. There are two main ways a field is taught in universities- the coverage model which attempts to cover the entire history of a discipline premised on depth; and a model centred on exploring the epistemic forms, the soul of a discipline based on a broader framework. Understanding this epistemic form of our particular discipline is crucial to doing well in it.
5. College is to teach a certain set of skills through the discipline. Sometimes, the particular discipline becomes tangential as the skills themselves are important- critical thinking, interpersonal communication, analytic skills, imaginative ability etc.
6. Give students the choice to choose, but have a few basic courses that cover diverse fields early on.
7. In India, research and teaching are almost entirely separate to the tune of different institutions that do either. Instead, the author advocates a Humboldtian model of teaching and research being intertwined. The consumption and the production of knowledge should not be seen as different. The Indian model developed as a result of the colonial need to provide clerks for the bureaucracy and not for the open flexible intellectual that Ivy League American universities or Oxbridge sought to create.
8. He notes that we should maybe begin to see the university as more of an open loop, instead of a fixed time in one's life; where we move from uni to work, then back again to reskill, then to different work; and the cycle continues. Education should not and indeed cannot be restricted to solely one part of our life. One also needs a variety of intelligences to do well at one's job, it is not solely strictly the field-relevant intelligence that is important. He cites the example of the architect who must negotiate with the workers, the government etc.
9. Storytelling is an integral part of human social life and indeed it is through it that we understand life. Thus, the humanities subjects attain importance; as based on this subjective aspect, away from the monofocal focus of Indians on science.
April 15, 2019
Definitely worth a read if you’ve ever contemplated the (Indian) education system!
May 9, 2018
Part memoir, part analysis of the global history of the liberal arts, and part solution to the decline in liberal arts today, it is beautifully written. It takes a different approach to current solutions to the state of liberal arts today. It suggests that instead of solving it in our silos, we see it as an approach to education that builds individuals with multiple skills. It suggests encouraging contra-disciplinarity, a robust general education curriculum etc.
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