College and The Parable of the Tomatoes

Tomatoes are delicious! Although once spurned as poisonous love apples, Americans have been relishing them for over a century. Indeed, so popular did they become that the demand exceeded the supply. This created a problem because farm grown tomatoes were handpicked. As such, they were expensive.
The only way around this dilemma was to mechanize the harvesting process. This, however, required that as the crop neared ripeness, all of the fruit be plucked at the same time. Because machines could not distinguish between the ripe and the unripe, all had to be simultaneously gathered.
The solution was to genetically engineer the tomatoes so that they matured concurrently. This worked wonderfully, except for one small quibble. These new varieties did not taste as good as the old-fashioned kind. They looked about the same, but were nowhere near as luscious as the juicy ones people grew in their backyards.
Now colleges are under attack. Both from within and without, potent forces are gathering to convert them into what they have not been. Since they are also thought to be too expensive, many critics are proposing solutions akin to that which worked for tomatoes. In the process, universities are being homogenized.
As I have previously written, one reason for this is the move to provide everyone with a higher education. It is forcing universities to lower their standards so as to emulate mediocre high schools. Instead of demanding the best of their students, they lower their requirements so that everyone can pass.
Then there are the effects of the perceived liberalism of college faculties. This left of center attitude is real and gives many parents heartburn. Despite apologetics to the contrary, the latter are correct in believing that many academicians actively promote a left-of-center agenda.
Unfortunately, the response has been to restrain the radicals by controlling the institutions. One tool for doing so has been to demand “accountability.” The goal is to make sure that professors impart the information that they should be imparting. If instead of delegating them complete freedom, they have to answer for their efforts, perhaps they will be more careful.
In practice, however, this gets translated into demanding that the faculty abide by standardized rubrics. They are asked to organize their lessons according to pre-digested formats and to test their students by means of equally homogeneous instruments.
But in having their product standardized, it is made second-rate. Professors who are told what to teach and how to teach it become as dumbed down as their students. Asked to leave their intelligence and creativity at the door, it is the least able among them who are motivated to remain on the job.
Yet, we have seen this before. As the number of administrators rose in K-12 schools, the quality of education stagnated—or fell. Although this was done in the name of accountability—the reverse transpired.
Sadly, in universities the impact is liable to be more severe. Why? you ask. The answer has to do with what is taught in colleges. Higher education deals with arcane and complex materials. Hence, the only persons competent in them are generally the professors. Consequently, unless they are experts, what they teach is inevitably substandard.
Indeed, how are administrators to judge which professors do a good job? Since they cannot do so directly, they impose proxies. One is student evaluations. At the end of each course, students rate what occurred. But which instructors get the best marks? Naturally, it is the popular ones who cater to student desires, not the more demanding ones.
Another administrative strategy is to demand written goals and specifiable learning outcomes. This, however, imposes a need to keep lesson plans within the lines. Getting too innovative is discouraged by a demand to produce exactly what was promised.
The result is a reduction in quality and an assault on academic freedom. What formerly made college distinctive gets excised because it is not easily measured. However, with it goes a professorate worthy of the name and students who learn anything of value. In the end, they all have as much flavor as tomatoes designed for supermarket shelves.
Melvyn L. Fein. Ph.D.
Professor of Sociology
Kennesaw State University