• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar

By's Musings

  • Home
  • Blog
  • Overview

Philosophy

November 6, 2011 By B. Baylis Leave a Comment

Skeletons in the Closets of American Liberal Arts Colleges – Part I

To truly understand the American Liberal Arts Colleges, we need to go back to the origin of the concept of Liberal Arts, and work our way forward through history. Many modern authors attribute the concept of Liberal Arts to the ancient Greeks. However, it wasn’t until the Middle Ages that the actual phrase Liberal Arts gained much traction. The Latin expression artes liberales referred to the branches of knowledge that were reserved for free men in ancient Greece and Rome. Other forms of learning were reserved for slaves to prepare them to gain a livelihood or to assist in the economic pursuits of their masters. Although many ancient Greeks held this view of the liberal arts, this understanding was most definitely a Roman construct. Rome, as was their style, would borrow anything from the Greek civilization that they thought worked well, or could be modified slightly for their benefit.

         Instead of reserving certain aspects of education for free men, and relegating other aspects to slaves, Aristotle held an opposing view. Aristotle believed that  there were three primary forms of knowledge. Each of the three has its own  unique avenue of approach. Aristotle believed that all free men should be  exposed to and gain some proficiency in all three forms of knowledge. Aristotle  was not opposed to opening up all education to slaves and women. Aristotle also  believed that any slave or woman who showed a propensity to a particular form  of knowledge should be permitted and encouraged to pursue it. The first of Aristotle’s three forms of knowledge was theoria, which is the word from which we get our words theory or theoretical. The way to approach theoria, was contemplative reflection on sensory observations. Aristotle and all other Greek philosophers of his day held that theoria was the highest form of knowledge and should be reserved only for those who could demonstrate a genuine proclivity to it. Aristotle was quite firm in his belief that if someone could not demonstrate a superior level of ability in the elementary search for theoria, that individual should  be relegated to a pursuit of the other two forms of knowledge or to a life of service in the military.

The second of the three forms of knowledge was poiesis, which meant creation of a product of value, and is the word from which we get our words poetical and poetry. All students of Aristotle had to create products of value. Aristotle believed that this process would help students develop a system of values that was their own and not imposed on them by someone else.

The third form of knowledge was praxis, which meant doing, and is the word from which we get our words practice and practical. All students of Aristotle had to participate in practical or experiential exercises. These exercises might be related to a piece of theoretical knowledge or a particular value, or pertain to a new lesson Aristotle wanted the students to learn. Sometimes the exercises preceded the development of the theoretical knowledge or value. At other times the exercises followed the development of  knowledge or a value. You may know all the rules of rhetoric, but to really know, rhetoric you have to practice it. At times you can learn to write poetry by intuiting the rules of poetry by writing poetry. Almost always to create a poem of great value, you have to repeatedly write poems.

Most Greek philosophers held the position that theoria was to be reserved for free men. They also maintained that free men should be excused from poiesis and praxis, which were reserved for slaves. Aristotle encouraged all free men to participate in both forms of experiential learning, poiesis and praxis. For Aristotle, an  educated man had to possess content, skills and values. An educated man had to develop his head, his hands and his heart.

Filed Under: Higher Education Tagged With: Liberal Arts, Metaphor, Philosophy

October 31, 2011 By B. Baylis Leave a Comment

Skeletons in the Closets of American Liberal Arts Colleges – Introduction

Does anyone find it ironic that I begin a discussion of skeletons during Halloween season? Some have suggested that the topic should have frightened me away. A skeleton in the closet is a commonly used idiom, generally believed to represent a secret that the “ownerof the closet” would find unpleasant or harmful if it were made public. As with many common idioms, there is no consensus as to the origin of the term.

There is an 18th century legend about an English couple who were both so obnoxious that no one in their small town knew anything about them other than their names and in which house they lived. After years of arguing, the husband apparently reached the breaking point, and decided he had endured enough of the old hag. Hence he killed his wife, and to conceal his crime, he stuffed his wife’s body in a closet. In those few times when he did go out and was asked about why no one had seen his wife recently, he replied that his wife had left him and gone home to mama. The town’s people found this story plausible because everyone knew the couple had been arguing for years. Since the wife had been unpleasant to everyone, she had no friends in the town, thus, nobody tried to contact her since they didn’t know where her mother lived, and the wife’s disappearance was effectively ignored.

After many years the husband died. Since the couple didn’t have any children or any other close relatives, the husband willed all of his earthly possessions, including his home, to the church. This was a surprise to everyone including the vicar since the man seldom graced the door of the church. When the local vicar went to clean up the property and take possession of the house, he found the skeleton in the closet. It didn’t take long for the word about the skeleton to spread around the town. Everyone suspected the skeleton was that of the man’s former wife. The husband had kept this dark secret for many years, but eventually his actions became public knowledge.

         I believe there are a number of skeletons in the closets of American liberal arts colleges. Some of these skeletons have been hidden since residential liberal arts colleges were first introduced to colonial America in the mid 16th century. Some skeletons predate American liberal arts colleges. Other skeletons have been introduced more recently. I am not saying that these skeletons represent crimes, but only information that is not generally well-known. I believe that this information should draw peoples’ attention to the questions of whether liberal arts colleges are what they claim to be and whether they do what they claim to do. In each of the series of postings that follow, I will discuss a skeleton, outlining when and by whom I believe the skeleton was deposited in the closet. I will also explain what impact I believe the skeleton has had and will have on American higher education.

Some of the skeletons I intend to expose include skeletons related to the definitions of liberal arts, liberal arts colleges and liberal arts education. Others are related to the origins of liberal arts colleges and education in America, the history and development of liberal arts colleges in America, the structures and governance of American liberal arts colleges. Some additional skeleton are related to the primary pedagogies and modalities of liberal arts education, and the demographics of liberal arts education. Other postings will focus on the issues of the mission, vision, and purpose of liberal arts education or colleges.

The first skeleton that I will address in the next posting is the definition of liberal arts.

Filed Under: Higher Education Tagged With: Liberal Arts, Metaphor, Philosophy

October 15, 2011 By B. Baylis Leave a Comment

Is There Room in the Academy for a Realist?

         In a recent posting on this blog, entitled “Teamwork is Critical, Learning with and from Others”, I wrote about the dichotomy known as yin and yang. In ancient Chinese philosophy, these terms represent opposite but complementary items which form a complete whole. One way to over simplify this concept is to suggest that the same situation is viewed by some people as a problem and by others as an opportunity. A modern western idiom attempting to express this is the question, “Do you see the glass as half-full, or half-empty?” As I admitted in the afore-mentioned posting, as I have inventoried and catalogued my collection of files and books, I have experienced both feelings. At times I am elated at the long hidden jewels of ideas and thoughts that I am finding in my files and books. As I consider these ideas I am easily distracted and start trying to track down more about the given topic. I find myself creating more files to add to my already abundant collection. When I try to return to where I was when I was distracted, I can’t find my place or I can’t get back into the flow of things. I am pleased that I have been reintroduced to many great ideas that I had somehow abandoned. However, I am frustrated that I can’t excavate around these ideas more fully. I am almost convinced that a life-time of thinking will take a second lifetime to explicate it.

Speaking of yin and yang, this week I also discovered a quote that was attributed to Winston Churchill. Reportedly, he said, “A pessimist is someone who sees problems in every opportunity, and an optimist is someone who sees opportunities in every problem.” The question I would ask is, whether, in the academy, you must be either a pessimist or an optimist. Is there room in the academy for a realist?  I would define a realist as someone who meets all of the following conditions:

  1. On a bright sunny day with not a cloud overhead, the realist enjoys the beautiful weather.
  2. However, on that bright sunny day, if there are gathering storm clouds far off in the distance, possibly not even within visible sight, the realist prepares for the coming storm, while continuing to enjoy the current beautiful weather.
  3. In the midst of a severe storm, the realist takes all reasonable precautions for personal and property safety.
  4. After the storm is past, the realist immediately gets to the task of remembering and honoring any individuals who might have been lost in the storm.
  5. After the storm is past, the realist will also immediately begin the job of clearing the debris from the storm and the restoration and rebuilding of new and better physical objects.

Instead of being the doom-saying, stuck in the mud pessimist, or the blue-sky always looking through rose colored glasses Pollyanna optimist, how much better off would the academy be, if more of us were realists?

 

Filed Under: Higher Education Tagged With: Communication, Metaphor, Philosophy

October 1, 2011 By B. Baylis 3 Comments

Living in a metaphoric world and trying to communicate with the academy

I found two articles published this past July very significant and helpful. The first was an article in the Epilepsy Advocate magazine about Chris M., a minister and author, who found he was thinking and writing differently after the onset of epilepsy. The article may be found at http://www.epilepsyadvocate.com/default.aspx. The second article was a Chronicle of Higher Education review by Carlin Romano  entitled “What’s a Metaphor For?” which can be found at http://chronicle.com/article/Whats-a-Metaphor-For-/128079/

Why were these two articles significant for me?  After two traumatic brain incidents (TBIs )left me essentially able to think only metaphorically and unable to think analytically, sequentially or deductively, I have found it extremely difficult to communicate with the academy. This has been very difficult for me because the academy was my life for 40 years.

In March 2009, I had  brain surgery to remove a benign tumor which was discovered when I had a stroke-like event (first TBI). When I regained consciousness in the hospital after the surgery, I immediately realized something was different. I couldn’t find the right words to complete thoughts. I knew what I was trying to say but the best word to express my thoughts would not come to my mind.  I also had trouble following what other people were saying or writing. My speech therapist called the condition aphasia (loss of words). After 9 months of intensive therapy, I got to the point where usually I was the only person who realized that I was having trouble with words.

In December 2009, I had four conic-tonic seizures within a 30 minute time span (second TBI), which my neurologists blamed either on the stroke-like event or the scar tissue left from the removal of the benign tumor. When I regained consciousness in the hospital three days after the seizures, I immediately knew something else was very different.

I knew my ability to think analytically, sequentially or deductively had been severely compromised. Prior to the first TBI, I would try to think everything through analytically. After the seizures, my first reaction to any situation, problem or question was to draw a mental picture, i.e., devise a metaphor. What’s the difference? The battle between thinking analytically and metaphorically is like living in two different worlds or looking down two very different sides of the same mountain.  For 40 years, I lived in an analytic world. However, now I was living in a metaphoric world. In such a world I found that I could not rigorously define metaphor. The best I could do was to describe it using more metaphors. Notice in my account above, to describe what was going on in my mind, I had to use a metaphor. Another discovery is that even the best metaphor may not completely satisfy the need for the rigor of those living in the analytic world.

Having lived in both worlds, I found it easier to understand someone living in the metaphoric world when I was in the analytic world, than vice versa. This insight reminded me of the episode of Star Trek, The Next Generation, entitled “Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra.” In this episode the Enterprise Crew was working on trying to understand messages from the alien world of the Tamarians. The Star Trek universal translators could translate the words but the words make no sense to the Star Trek crew. Finally Dathon, the leader of the Tamarians, kidnaps Picard and strands the two of them on the planet El-Adrel together with a common foe. When Dathon tosses Picard a dagger, several of the Star Trek crew members suggest that this is a hostile act. It is not until later when Picard and Dathon are attacked by a third hostile alien that Picard understands that the dagger was an invitation to cooperate and jointly fight this new enemy. Although Dathon is killed in the fight, the humans and the Tamarians see that they can cooperate. It is only when the Tamarians start referring to this event as Picard and Dathon at El-Adrel, does the Star Trek crew understand that the other phrases the Tamarians were using were actually  metaphors that referred to important events in their history. Thus, even though the Tamarians never could understand the straight-forward explanations the humans offered for events,  the two groups were able to communicate and understand each other through metaphors, because the Star Trek crew started using metaphors.

As I contemplate a limited future within the academy, the two articles mentioned above have given me some new hope that I can find a few good friends who will be willing to work with me so we can translate each other’s language so that both groups will be enriched.

Filed Under: Higher Education Tagged With: Aphasia, Books, Communication, Epilepsy, Metaphor, Philosophy, Reading

September 27, 2011 By B. Baylis 3 Comments

General Education and Turf Wars

The National Endowment for the Humanities begin their booklet “50 Hours: A Core Curriculum for College Students” with a quote by Mark Van Doren from Liberal Education: “The one intolerable thing in education is the absence of ntellectual design.” I find this ironic in that the curriculum outlined in the booklet and the process used by most institutions to arrive at their general education is a process of turf wars. I find almost nothing intellectual in turf wars. In turf wars, the largest, most powerful departments will win almost every time.

I remember the process of redesigning the general education at one institution. At this institution the general education was listed as 48 hours. As we surveyed the faculty, it was their over-whelming conclusion that 48 hours was too large. Why? Because this didn’t give students enough room to complete a degree in many disciplines within the normal four-year path to a degree of 120 hours. How is this possible? Many majors specified courses in other disciplines as requirements within their discipline. When you counted these courses and the required prerequisites for these courses, the total number of required hours for the average major was well over 90 hours. For example, the psychology major required a course in statistics. But the mathematics department required a course in Fundamentals of Mathematics as a prerequisite for statistics which was different from the general education course that was entitled Quantitative Reasoning. Thus the typical psychology major had to take 9 hours of courses from the mathematics department. In another area, the psychology major required a two semester sequence in anatomy and physiology (8 hours since these were lab courses), but the biology department required a 4-hour prerequisite to these courses that was entitled Introduction to Human Science that was different from the 4-hour lab science general education requirement entitled Introduction to Life Science. Thus, a psychology major would graduate with 16 hours of biology courses. How could the mathematics and biology departments have this much effect on psychology requirements? Because the courses in question were in their turf and they were the best judges of what was needed.

You should have heard the cries of distress and the weeping and wailing when I strongly suggested that we cut back the average number of required hours by 20 hours. I was decimating majors. Graduates would never get into graduate schools. So where did the faculty find hours to cut? They agreed to limit the number of hours required for a major to 78 unless there was an outside accrediting agency requiring more. Although, in the first survey of the faculty they said that students needed more foreign languages, then they cut out entirely the general education 9 hour requirement in a foreign language, but added a new 3-hour course in cross-cultural communications. They cut the 12-hour requirement of sequences in both United States and World Civilization and added a new 4-hour required course in Western Civilization. How could the faculty make these changes? The Foreign Language Department and the History Departments were not members of large enough voting blocs to get the votes they needed to stay in as part of the general education.

These days were out and out turf wars. Intellect and intelligence were not very visible anywhere. It was a matter of who had the votes or what treaties you could make to get the votes. Who said there is no politics in education?

Filed Under: Higher Education Tagged With: Books, History, Knowledge, Liberal Arts, Metaphor, Philosophy, Reading

May 29, 2011 By B. Baylis 2 Comments

Teamwork is Critical: Learning with and from Others

One of the blessings of my current physical situation  has been the opportunity to nventory anbooks on the d catalogue more than forty years of  collected files and academy. While working full-time I never had  the time to review all the files and books that I was collecting. These files  and books were just piling up in my university offices and in my home offices  and the storage areas of our homes. I had some idea of fwhat I possessed, but I  didn’t know for sure. This led to duplication of files and  books. As I have discovered  these duplicates, I have given them to individuals who can ake good use of  them.

However, the process of inventorying and cataloguing  has also created a problem. In Chinese philosophy, this dichotomy, where  opposite but complementary items form a complete whole, is known as yin and yang. The same situation is  viewed by some people as a problem and by others as an opportunity. A modern western  idiom attempting to express this is the question, “Do you see the glass as  half-full, or half-empty?” I must admit that as I have inventoried and  catalogued my collection of files and books, I have experienced both feelings.  At times I am elated at the long hidden jewels of ideas and thoughts that I am  finding in my files and books. As I consider these ideas I am easily distracted  and start trying to track down more about the given topic. I find myself  creating more files to add to my already abundant collection. When I try to  return to where I was when I was distracted, I can’t find my place or I can’t get back into the flow of things. I am pleased that I have been reintroduced to  many ideas that I had abandoned. However, I am frustrated that I can’t excavate  around these ideas more fully. I am almost convinced that a life-time of  thinking will take a second lifetime to explicate it.

One of the dangers when an academic picks up a book or  an article is the temptation to scan it. Whenever I start to scan a book or an  article, I find it almost impossible to put it down. It happened again and  again as I went through my books and files. At one point, I came across a  somewhat dated book with the intriguing title of Rural Development and Higher  Education: the Linking of Community and Method, published by the W.K. Kellogg Foundation. While  I have been laid up, I have been reading and thinking about the development of American Higher Education. Recently, I was reading about the effect that the Morrill Acts and the establishment of Land Grant Colleges had on the overall development of rural America. My curiosity got the better of me, and I started  scanning the Kellogg book. I was trapped. Soon I found myself reading the last  chapter which was a summary of the nine Kellogg funded projects that were outlined in the book. The first section of this chapter was entitled, “Learning from others.” It began with a great story about “a city fellow who bought a thriving farm that had a new brood of baby chicks. A week later all the chicks were dead.” At this point the city fellow went to the neighboring farmer to find out what had happened and if there was anything he could do to prevent  this from happening again when he bought some new chicks. The neighbor in all  innocence asked the city fellow, “What did you feed them?” The city fellow was shocked and he stammered, “Feed them. I thought the old hen nursed them.”

The conclusion of this story is obvious. If you don’t  know what you’re doing, it can be very dangerous to make faulty assumptions. In  the setting of this book, the authors continued by suggesting that university faculty can’t hope to deal successfully with rural development if they presuppose full knowledge of the local needs, wants, and conditions of any given  location and any given group of people. This led to the standard operating procedure within all Kellogg funded  projects of forming a citizens’ advisory committee at the very beginning of the  project. Everyone was constantly reminded that “Teamwork is critical.”

In higher education this is not only true when we are  working on projects outside the institution, such as rural, urban, or  industrial development. It is also true when we are working on a project inside  the institution with our own students. How easy is it to assume we know what people  need and what they already know? We can save a lot of time by just plowing in  and developing assistance programs for them. Why should we ask students what they need? How absurd, they are only students! How many colleges and universities have set up student assistance  programs to help students and find these programs don’t address the needs of  their students?

Today almost everyone gives lip service to the adage  that cooperation is the best policy. People know that generally you’ll get  better results if you involve other people, seek their advice and help, early  in a process. People are more willing to help and accept change if they have  ownership in the process.

If teamwork was the most important lesson that the  Kellogg Foundation learned from these projects, there was one more lesson that  was a close second. This second lesson was that every project needs a project  director who possesses the appearance of neutrality, “the statesmanship of a  Disraeli, the leadership abilities of a wagon master, the selflessness of a  missionary, and the energies of a long-distance runner.” These are great  lessons for any organization to learn and master.

Filed Under: Higher Education, Teaching and Learning Tagged With: Books, Knowledge, Philosophy

  • « Go to Previous Page
  • Page 1
  • Page 2
  • Page 3
  • Page 4
  • Page 5
  • Page 6
  • Go to Next Page »

Primary Sidebar

Search

Tags

Admissions Advent Alumni Aphasia Books Caregiver Christmas College Communication Community Activism Condition Disease Disorder Dysesthesia Economics Educational Modality Epilepsy Family Fundraising God Hallucinations Health Care History Humor Knowledge Learning Liberal Arts Love Metaphor Parkinson's Peace Philosophy Problem Solving Reading Recruitment Retention Scripture Student Technology Therapy Truth Verbal Thinking Visual Thinking Word Writing

Categories

  • Athletics
  • Business and Economics
  • Education
  • Faith and Religion
  • Food
  • Health
  • Higher Education
  • Humor
  • Leadership
  • Neurology
  • Neuroscience
  • Organizational Theory
  • Personal
  • Politics
  • Surviving
  • Teaching and Learning
  • Thriving
  • Uncategorized
  • Writing

Meta

  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.org
  • Home
  • Blog
  • Overview

Copyright © 2010–2025 Higher Ed By Baylis