Some people might expect me to be enthused that the Australian government recently announced that the tuition costs for university degrees in the humanities and social sciences would increase and the costs of undergraduate degrees in mathematics and sciences has decreased. This is based on three unquestioned assumptions and values. First, university is a job-training program. Second, all these extra mathematics and science graduates will get employment in the area that they study. Third, there is no need to address the massive other problems that Australian universities are facing, further accentuated by covid-19.
The central purpose of a university education is to learn to think.
Why study the classics? Recently, I read the following letter to The Economist written by Robert Machado, a PhD student in classics at Cambridge.
As a teacher and researcher in classics, I care profoundly about the subject’s purpose (Johnson, May 2nd). Too many of my colleagues rely on the guff that it teaches grammatical rigour or fall back onto vague assertions about the origins of Western civilisation. Although it is good to have a knowledge of ancient societies, the study of classics or indeed any ancient peoples offers one important transferable skill. When studying any ancient civilisation, one quickly brushes up against the reality that 99.9% of the information one would like to have is already lost. This forces any student or researcher to reflect hard on what data can be used. We must carefully analyse and argue over every scrap, while avoiding the temptation to come to conclusions that the data do not justify. In an age where we are faced with a glut of data, knowing what they can or cannot be used to say is vital.
Rodney Stark was a well-established sociology professor at the University of Washington when he made the bold move to work on the history of early Christianity, making use of methods and concepts from sociology. In the Preface to his book, The Rise of Christianity, he notes
my effort to reconstruct the rise of Christianity has been a cherished hobby - a justification for reading books and articles that now fill an entire wall of my study. It would be impossible to express adequately how much pleasure I have gained from these authors. I am convinced that the students of antiquity are on average the most careful researchers and the most graceful writers in the world of scholarship.
Parenthetically, I note that Stark's work and attitude provides a model of how to successfully break into a new field.