The Hard Work of Knowledge


When business guru Peter F. Drucker coined the term “knowledge worker” back in the early 1960’s, he recognized that a dramatic shift was taking place in the world of work—namely, that the information we carry in our heads had become a critical component of our professional careers. Today, some forty years later, no one disputes that we live and work in a knowledge economy.


This, in part, explains why a college education has escalated in value, for the foundation of knowledge that a college education provides is the price of admission for many modern careers. Subsequently, a debate has arisen as to the purpose and meaning of a college education, with a good many groups calling on colleges to better prepare their students for the world of work. It is a noble goal, one that we at Salem State College should take seriously. But it is also a goal that, in my opinion, underestimates the true value of a college education, particularly when applied to the arts and sciences.


Colleges, of course, have been in the knowledge business for a long time.

© Joe Yutkins

Epistemology and its theories and techniques are at the heart of post-secondary education. Among the many lessons that a teacher conveys is helping students recognize the difference between facts and knowledge— for while they are closely tied, they are not the same. At the risk of over-simplification, one could say that knowledge is the application of facts toward a larger gain. That is, knowledge involves, first, knowing how to identify facts, and then recognizing how they might be collected, organized, or expressed for a larger purpose. A simple and oft-used example is that of the phone book. It is the arrangement of those thousands of facts (phone numbers) into an alphabetical listing that makes it a worthwhile tool.


Students conduct research, they read and study, and they commit numerous facts to memory. But it is through their papers and presentations that they demonstrate the ability to organize factual information into meaningful knowledge—knowledge that can be shared with others to influence decisions and to help shape outcomes. A college education, however, can achieve even greater heights, particularly through the magical combination of inspired teaching and deep and sincere interest on the part of the student. That is, when we guide our students to recognize not only the difference between facts and knowledge, but also the difference between knowledge and wisdom, whole new horizons can open for the student. And this is when a college education can return a dividend far beyond getting one ready for the world of work.


Take, for example, the intent and rationale of a liberal arts education, which dates back hundreds and hundreds of years. With its emphasis on critical thinking and thoughtful analysis, the arts and sciences teach our students not merely the important dates of history but also the important social and moral lessons history contains; they teach not just the knowledge of grammar, but the power of the written word; they impart not just the names of the ancient philosophers but how those ancient ideas still apply to our present world; they ask students not just to memorize scientific facts but to explore how the triumvirate of hypothesis, evidence, and conclusion leads to the hard rigor of scientific analysis that can create important new knowledge. Equally important, by showing how the knowledge of different disciplines is interconnected, an arts and sciences education helps students make sense of a complex world that at times seems incongruous. Such is the value of critical thinking and scientific rigor—they are the tools of the trade in so many professions of our knowledge economy. But they are also the building blocks that help one move beyond knowledge and toward the elusive gift of wisdom.


Of course, striving toward wisdom is one thing, but achieving it is no simple task. Nor is wisdom even easily recognized. Identifying the characteristics of wisdom has kept many a great thinker at work for years, so I am not so bold as to claim the answer for the ages. However, I do believe that wisdom has something to do with the choices we make. That is, we can choose to apply our knowledge in a myriad of ways—for pecuniary gains, for intellectual achievement, for fame, for the company’s market share, for the betterment of others—but how we choose to use our knowledge is where wisdom begins. The writer David Foster Wallace gave a commencement address at Kenyon College in Ohio not long ago where he ventured into this very subject. The true value of an education, said Wallace, is that it teaches us that we have choices as to what and how we think—and I believe that is one of the inherent strengths of the School of Arts and Sciences. Its departments, curriculum, and shared purposes expose students to a broad array of subjects and possibilities, and then arm them with the critical skills necessary to venture forth into areas that excite their imagination.


That our modern world is a knowledge economy, driven by the dramatic rise of the information age, is quite evident. But understanding what knowledge to pursue—and, more importantly, how to use that knowledge—is the real value of a college education. And though our information age may bombard us with facts, figures, hypotheses, opinions, and countless images, our Arts & Science graduates leave here with the strong analytical tools that allow them to separate fact from flotsam, knowledge from hype, and, if they are lucky, wisdom from success.


Patricia Maguire Meservey

President


Beacon, a regular column of ASpect, features noteworthy items in the School of Arts and Sciences.

 

Beacon

Volume 32

March 2008