Atomised Thought, or 'So, You Are An Undergraduate'

See them all go away, into rapidly specialising streams of thought, alone. They pour into the universities, where in theory all knowledge becomes one, and they pour out again, specialised. They graduate with degrees, each degree describing more what they are not supposed to know than what they do; so much for the holistic view of education.

For the students who have just completed the IB, or the A-levels, or any other high school diploma, the process has begun. It is a process that will divide soul from spirit and make new things look old and painful. Many ideals will fall by the wayside, to be replaced by better-defined, but not better-inspired, new ideals. Where once a man sought to share his life with others, he will graduate a socialist or a crypto-Marxist. Where once a woman sought to share her life with others, she will graduate an expert in jurisprudence or a master of trade negotiations.

Of course, it doesn't have to happen this way. But one should beware of the universities of this world, even while one takes advantage of their unique offerings. For a degree at any level is not a small accomplishment; even so, one should realise that it is not the 300-kg gorilla in the room. A degree is just that; one tiny arc in 360 for a circle, or even one part in 90 for the corner of a square. If you think education will fit you for the whole, think again – it is more likely to fit you for a hole.

Here are some of the poet Wordsworth's thoughts on the matter, from his eyrie in the cold corners of Cambridge (taken from his Prelude, Book III, lines 58-82 – full text here):

From my pillow, looking forth by light
Of moon or favouring stars, I could behold
The antechapel where the statue stood
Of Newton with his prism and silent face,
The marble index of a mind for ever
Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.

Of College labours, of the Lecturer's room
All studded round, as thick as chairs could stand,
With loyal students, faithful to their books,
Half-and-half idlers, hardy recusants,
And honest dunces—of important days,
Examinations, when the man was weighed
As in a balance! of excessive hopes,
Tremblings withal and commendable fears,
Small jealousies, and triumphs good or bad—
Let others that know more speak as they know.
Such glory was but little sought by me,
And little won. Yet from the first crude days
Of settling time in this untried abode,
I was disturbed at times by prudent thoughts,
Wishing to hope without a hope, some fears
About my future worldly maintenance,
And, more than all, a strangeness in the mind,
A feeling that I was not for that hour,
Nor for that place.

Yes, this is how the university student has always felt. Wordsworth was not so long ago; he lived from 1770 to 1850, and that period is but a drop in the bucket of recorded time. His fears, his thoughts and feelings about the post-graduation future, all these are the same as the thoughts the students of the present think.

Take heart, young men and women! Persevere and keep the faith, run the race and remain sure and steadfast. A billion others have trod upon the same paths that you tread, in spirit if not in exact substance. Some day, you too might measure yourself against the marble index and, like Newton, say, "If I have seen further than certain other men, it is by standing upon the shoulders of giants."