The University: Academy or Playground?

I remember the beginning of my senior year of high school, a little over three years ago, when I started getting college brochures and pamphlets in the mail. You know the sort: firm, heavy paper, picturesque campuses in the fall, Instagram handles, an FAQ section. Whoever made this pamphlet was good. They knew the perfect way to market to a Gen Z, social-media-savvy audience, who had surely already looked them up on college rating sites.  The type of sites that allow users to sort colleges by dorm and food quality, the party scene, and by city entertainment. 

One promised a myriad of fun activities hosted by Student Life. Another boasted the numerous events and exciting nightlife that were guaranteed in the Bay Area. All of them showcased how cool the campus was and how much fun there was to be had. Academics were always towards the back. This is not new. In 2014, Forbes published an article about the “amenities arms race” in American universities. Universities boast hot tubs, rock walls, a steakhouse -- hammocks. The idea is that these are the things that will attract students to a university. It is strange to see schools invest money into entertainment and frivolous amenities, all the while cutting funding to academic programs that promote intellectual breadth and rigor. What is this? What is a university, if not a place of academics? What does one seek at an educational institution, if not an education? 

The word university comes from the Latin ūniversitās, meaning that which is universal, encompassing the whole. This word was first used to refer to the professors and the students they taught. That is, the university educators and students were the be all and end all of a university. That was its identity. Of course, universities do not function quite the way they did in the medieval age. Education is different.

I am biased. Because I am majoring in the humanities, I regularly watch my academic passions evaporate into a steam, a vague cloud of what-once-was. It is logical that I would be more inclined to defend the humanities, which I love dearly, over, say, sports. We are a university in the most diverse city in the United States. We pride ourselves on our commitment to DEI and support of historically underrepresented communities, yet cut those programs which teach students to listen to the voices of people who are different from them -- an essential skill in an increasingly pluralistic society. These are the programs which are being razed over in favor of the new, the trendy, the money-making. If our school and our academics are of as high quality as they claim to be, then Pacific does not need to lure students in with gimmicky bells and whistles. 

However, it is a glaring truth that many of these amenities have been built as a direct result of student input. Many of these facilities have been built to court potential students, as well as to satisfy the (ill?) perceived desires of current ones. In a 2019 article in the College Student Affairs Journal, author Kevin McClure writes that “this rationale for amenities states that the institution that provides the best product in response to students’ consumer demands will win their tuition money.” The problem, however, goes beyond Pacific. The problem is systemic; it is the hypercapitalist idea that a thing is only as useful as its revenue. In order for higher education to be valued in a way that goes beyond material gain, we must rekindle the idea of stimulating curiosity, that education is a diving board into the vast pool of knowledge and learning, not just a road to profit. Such a cultural shift will allow our society to gain a renewed appreciation and desire for the true purpose of a university: education.

“Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.” ― W.B. Yeats