BEWARE OF THE PROFESSOR CLONES

A lament for the demise of the eccentric academic

DON MORGENSON: THE CORD WEEKLY WILFRID LAURIER UNIVERSITY

WATERLOO (CUP) — I was reading an obituary of a professor who taught me some years ago, when as an undergraduate, I was studying a course devoted to world literature. I recalled what an absolutely inspiring teacher he was and how grateful I was to be exposed to such a “rara avis.”

I remember quite clearly how he would occasionally lecture our relatively small class while sitting crosslegged on the table at the front of the room, his eyeballs glazed over as he rattled off lengthy passages penned by the world’s great writers. This was not all that distinguished our colourfully incandescent teacher from other members of the faculty. He seemed oblivious to any dress code other than a formal “dishevelled” look and his hair was chronically unkempt.

The obituary made note of students’ praise for the manner in which his mild eccentricity had made him a very compelling and inspiring teacher. Since variety may be the very spice of life, I wondered why “eccentricity” had become something of the past at university campuses, and when, exactly, those of us dedicated to higher education became so obsessed with uniformity that we are now hell-bent on eliminating those who do not fit the preformed ideal.

Given the size of most universities today, perhaps such eccentrics do yet exist and we have ceased to notice it, due to less and less contact with other faculties and professors.

Nonetheless, we seem determined to create little copies of ourselves, clones, if you like, so that any variety or diversity in our corridors or classrooms will be driven out. In years past, the terms “eccentricity” and “academic” were organically linked, because eccentricity was often coupled with a healthy dose of creativity, which fosters innovation.

Undergraduates are sensitive human beings and thoroughly enjoy the stimulation provided by a variety of lecturing styles as well as the somewhat unorthodox personalities of those who deliver them.

“Eccentricity” literally means off-centre or out of round — or looking at the world from a decidedly different angle. And while creativity is yet valued, eccentricity is definitely out of favour.

Universities today are cautious about employing anyone whose letters of reference suggest the hint of eccentricity, such as my wonderful professor of world literature. He often reminded us of Nietzsche’s observation: “People must have chaos (could that be eccentricity?) in their souls to give birth to a dancing star.” It is certainly a seller’s market for older, safer, non-eccentric teachers and researchers. Since new ideas usually come from younger teachers and researchers, we definitely have good reason for concern.

“Better safe than sorry” is part of a broader trend for academic uniformity. Many of my colleagues feel that university administrators would prefer all academics to be clones — giving uniform lectures in a uniform style, with a uniform structure to fill the uniform notebooks or laptops of uniform undergraduates to pursue their uniform syllabi. The idea that lectures to undergraduate students should follow a uniform format, enhanced with standardized “clickers in the classroom” (quiz-administering remote controls), at least to me, represents a retrograde step.

Having taught through so many student and faculty rebellions, I often reflect on the rich and colourful student bodies of the past, students with energy, movement, “Puckish” wit, students vocally intolerant of injustices. Having passed standardized tests, completed standardized syllabi, our students today are remarkably similar in posture, attitude, ability, talent . . . whatever.

What is required, perhaps more than ever, are a few inspirational, somewhat non-conforming teachers who will inform the powers that be — university administrative officers — that all lectures need not follow the same format.

Undergraduates are sensitive human beings and thoroughly enjoy the stimulation provided by a variety of lecturing styles as well as the somewhat unorthodox personalities of those who deliver them.

If teaching is essentially style (and this does not mean there is little content) there must be fun, variance, and occasionally, the unpredictable, and pardon me, evolution. In such a scenario without variety, apathy sets in, and as with genetic variety, there would be no evolving teaching excellence.