19 – And Upward, Ho

A contrived world I find myself fallen into: a little light filters down through the haze, barely illuminating brazenly artificial structures that I must scale, to reach the overworld once more. My current guide brings forth a feeble light, and leads the way.

Why this particular task is a rite of passing for our culture, I cannot say: glimpses of the overworld afforded to us show me and my brethren who also undertake this task that the mountains we will climb after exiting this cave are natural, lacking the sharp, geometric corners and flat faces that make up these artificial counterparts.

When we started at the very bottom of these mountain ranges, oh so very long ago, we were afforded more leeway, the first guides carrying bigger lanterns. But how slowly they went, and as future guides strode with more urgency, carrying smaller lamps, one had to learn to stay on the path, lest one be lost in the gloom. In between thoughts of where to place another step, perhaps a small thought registers an interesting piece of architecture passing by before it is swallowed by the twilight. If thoughts wander too far, then I am liable to slip, slip off the peaks and cliffs to who knows where.

Not only is an uncertain end reason to keep to the straight and narrow: if I reach the goal first, then I win. Everyone has told me so: my parents, every one of my guides, and even my peers would offer up grudging admiration for having outrun them with stoic determination. To what end is the winning aimed? I do not know, but surely it is worth it.

And, up ahead! A flash of light, which my guide tells me is coming from the machinery that drives the lift at the goal. The lift that will lift me and my peers to the overworld. It looks to come from a place not far off: I only have to put down my head and trod forward a bit more, and it will be over.

An allegory for academia, into which I couldn’t fit everything I wanted to say. Hence, this addendum.

First, the bad: it’s not as easy as throwing yourself off a cliff and finding there’s a portal to the overworld that catches you. No, your parents had to pay coin to allow your passage through the trials, and saddle you with some of the debt, so if you take the easy way out you still have the associated debt without the prestige that comes from weathering the trials.

Then, the good: when I leave school, I’ll also be leaving behind a nice, structured life that didn’t require much of me outside of studying and trying to maximize my point spread (extracurriculars, though…). In particular, I’ll be leaving behind friends of goodly caliber, and the density of awesome people that made meeting all of them possible. These are the good things I’ll be leaving behind, which I’ll have to work to combat (less the first than the second).

Finally, I don’t think Universities are optimizing for teaching: there’s not a tight feedback loop in which the teachers get to know which methods have the greatest impact, and are moved to use those methods. This might be changing, but it’s gonna get ugly before it gets better.

And that is why I am looking forward to leaving academia.