Science, humanities and the market forces
THE other day, while reading a leading weekly magazine, I saw a bunch of sponsored articles with spectacular ads narrating the success stories of ‘top-ranking’ engineering/medical colleges, and, of course, the market price of the ‘products’ these techno-scientific institutions produce. “15,000 campus placements in 2022-23, and over 1,200 corporates visited the campus for placements” — this sort of self-perception of a centre of learning indicates two things: (a) science/technology has to be seen as a valuable good primarily because of its instrumental and market-driven interests; and (b) these education shops do their business by tempting insecure middle-class parents, who are worried about the future of their children in this hyper-competitive era. No wonder, these articles have been published at a time when after the board exam results, youngsters and their parents are engaged in the act of shopping from the supermarket of medical/engineering colleges.
While going through the magazine, I read an article titled ‘The Science of Learning Arts’. It celebrates the fact that IITs are expanding their humanities and social science programmes. Is it a consolation prize for humanities, I wondered. Is it like saying that arts and humanities can be saved only if engineering colleges ask their students to opt for an optional course — and, that too, causally — in social psychology or English literature?
In a way, I began to reflect on the possible consequences of this sort of economics and politics of education.
In this context, there are three issues that deserve our attention. First, when science is valued primarily for the market-driven instrumental interests, it causes much damage. Science should not be seen as just a technical skill which, as yet another ad proudly declares, is supported by ‘key knowledge partners like Infosys and Microsoft’, and a means to be recruited by ‘Google, HCL, Amazon and Sony’. Have we forgotten that science is also about, as philosopher Karl Popper articulated beautifully, ‘conjectures and refutations’ — or, a method of enquiry that helps us to grow through continual debates, interrogation and critical reflection. And this critical spirit of science, to use Popper’s words, nurtures the foundations of an open and democratic society. However, when the logic of neo-liberalism assumes that nothing is more valuable than what the market dictates, and the cherished orthodoxy of religious nationalism negates critical thinking, is there anyone to bother about the democratic spirit of science Popper was talking about?
‘I study science solely because I want to be a computer engineer, get recruited by Google, and earn money’— if this sort of logic invades the consciousness of young students and shapes the strategy of education shops, it will not be difficult to find technologically skilled but culturally impoverished people living ‘comfortably’ with social conservatism, market fundamentalism, religious nationalism and even political authoritarianism. Even our much-hyped IITs — while producing the skilled workforce for the global neo-liberal market — cannot be free from this malady. Techniques and market rationality triumph; critical thinking or political sensitivity declines. We, therefore, must rethink science, and save it from this sort of ugly colonisation by the market.
Second, the order of precedence we have created, ranking techno-science high above liberal arts and humanities, needs to be challenged. If we systematically devalue arts, social sciences and humanities, or reduce these subjects as just ‘soft’ options for UPSC aspirants, we will rob young minds of what Jurgen Habermas would have characterised as ‘hermeneutic’ and ‘emancipatory’ interests. To take a simple illustration, when you are encouraged to meditate on, say, a poem by Pablo Neruda, a film by Charlie Chaplin, a novel by Rabindranath Tagore, or critical reflections on culture, politics and economy by the likes of Karl Marx and Sigmund Freud, you sharpen a profound art of seeing and relating to the world; you become a sensitive and critical wanderer; and you learn the nuanced mode of conversations to live meaningfully as an awakened citizen in a heterogeneous and democratic society. In one of her amazing books, Martha Nussbaum has reminded us that not everything is for profit, and hence, why ‘democracy needs the humanities’.
And third, we cannot fight the prevalent pathology of education without a pedagogic revolution. From elementary schools to universities, the culture of learning ought be enriched and humanised by this revolution. Don’t forget that modern scientism with its ‘iron laws’, ‘objectivism’ and epistemological arrogance has often devalued the entire domain of poetry, literature and philosophy as mere ‘subjective’ narratives without solid empirical foundations. It is like saying that while science monopolises ‘truth’, all other narratives are just ‘stories’. This sort of duality ought to be overcome through an integrated and holistic approach to education. This will lead to the humanisation of science and technology. Imagine a doctor who has internalised Ivan Illich and Gandhi with intense sincerity. She will possibly hesitate to reduce a health centre to a gorgeous shop, and, instead, resist all sorts of malpractices that go on in the name of ‘diagnostic technology’. Imagine an environmental scientist who has studied and celebrated Thoreau’s, or for that matter, Tagore’s ways of looking at life, nature and human needs. He will possibly raise his voice against the ongoing onslaught on mother Earth in the name of neo-liberal techno-developmentalism.
We need humane, sensitive and compassionate learners and politically aware/culturally enriched citizens — not one-dimensional ones who are eternally restless about what an education shop promises — ‘Rs 38 lakh per annum and thousands of placements.’ It’s high time we acquired the courage to say ‘no’ to this sort of vulgar commodification of education.
