I have a strong liberal arts background. In high school, I read Alexander Pope, Camus, and Sartre; I watched movies by Bergman and Kurosawa. In college I majored in philosophy at one of the best liberal arts colleges in the country. And if I hear another advocate of the liberal arts proclaim the glories of the humanities, and wax oh-so-eloquent about how enlightening and inspiring it is to read the Great Books, I am going to scream.

First, about those stereotypes about philosophy majors who can’t get jobs. Guess what, they’re true. I have spent many years trying to figure out what to do with my life, and treading water financially, to the detriment not only of my own bank account and well-being, but that of my family, as well. The faculty and administration at my college bent over backwards emphasizing the social justice aspect of the education we were receiving. But the first requirement for being a socially responsible member of this – or any – society is being able to support yourself.

Second, there is far too much emphasis in the liberal arts on teaching people to write.

I’m a very good writer. But, again, guess what – that’s irrelevant for most jobs. Very few jobs – even jobs that require an advanced degree – actually involve writing. What they do require is the ability to organize information and communicate well. Writing is a form of organizing information and communicating – but it’s just one form of either. It’s entirely possible for someone to be very good at organizing information and communicating, but not have to write anything more complicated than an email. Look at the credits of any movie. That’s a list of hundreds of well-paid, highly competent professionals. And at best a handful are being paid for their ability to write.

Third, I was told that getting into a great college was key to getting a good job: the better the college/university you attended, the better the chance you would land a solid, well-paying job. Um, no. I have had dozens of job interviews over the years. I don’t remember anyone ever mentioning the college where I got my Bachelor’s degree. I don’t see a dramatic difference between the people I know who went to elite colleges and those who went to good state universities. Actually, I don’t see much of a difference at all.

Fourth, I can define the “crisis” in the humanities in one four-letter word: Dish. The Dish represents the crisis in the humanities. Why? Because it epitomizes a problem for the humanities for which the humanities themselves are responsible: they have created their own competition. When I read the Dish (which I usually do several times a day), I read articles about a wide variety of topics, almost all of which fall under the traditional definition of the humanities/liberal arts. Reading the Dish is, in effect, a way of continuing my liberal arts education. And yet I do so without coming anywhere near a liberal arts faculty member. I don’t think you even quote professors all that often. There are myriad examples of this. I consider myself somewhat knowledgeable about art, but I never took an art history class in college. Instead, I have spent lots of time in museums and galleries, and have read lots of newspaper and magazine articles about artists I like. If you want to develop an appreciation for Shakespeare, you can take a class in the English department of some university. Or you can watch any of the hundreds of movies that have been made based on the Bard’s plays.

The humanities are alive and well. They’re just not necessarily alive and well in the humanities departments of American colleges and universities. THAT is the crisis of the humanities.