CAYTE PUSHKAREVA/YH

Professionalism and today's Yale education

• In a booming economy, Yale steers a wary course between training and teaching.

"Yale is now a somber and serious place." After spending 37 years in New Haven's ivory tower, Merton Peck, deputy chairman of the economics department, has seen Yale's more carefree times. He recalls the University's halcyon days as a "gentlemen's finishing school" and its role in the '60s and '70s as a hotbed of activism. During those phases, Yale offered a liberal education that "was more literary. There was much more emphasis on being personable and enthusiastic about extra-curricular activities." But American universities, like the society around them, are changing at an accelerated pace. More than ever, college students are anxious about their futures and their job security, and faculty and administration at top-tier universities are struggling to cope with this new order.

According to Yale's Office of Institutional Research (OIR), the number of students majoring in the humanities has dropped seven percent since 1983, while the number of economics majors has jumped 61 percent during that same span. Meanwhile, social sciences as a whole have seen enrollment jump 73 percent, buoyed by the growing popularity of political science.

Professors and researchers worry that students' increased focus conjoins with growing emphasis on the self. Troubling trends abound in UCLA's Astin Report on Higher Education, a survey that measures the changing attitudes of incoming freshman at hundreds of American colleges and universities. The percentages of freshmen who feel it is very important or essential for them to "influence social values" or "promote racial understanding" have reached 14-year lows. Meanwhile, the percentage of students entering college "to be able to make more money" has reached 72.4 percent compared to 49.9 percent in 1971.

A changing world?

But these trends may reflect a changing economy more than an increase in student selfishness. "Since World War II, the public university system has grown from serving 25 percent of all college students to 50 percent," Peck said. "State universities are driven to attract corporate and technological firms to the area, so they emphasize scientific research and de-emphasize the liberal arts." Now, however, this philosophy has come knocking on the ivy-covered doors of schools like Yale. "The desire to bring science to the Connecticut area underlies [Yale President Richard] Levin's, GRD '74, new science investment," Peck said.

Yale has not completely succumbed to the sirens of economic prosperity. According to Philip Jones, director of Undergraduate Career Services (UCS), the number of consulting and investment banking firms that recruit on Yale's campus has not increased significantly over the last decade. "Once we got beyond the [economic] downside of the early '90s, it's been fairly consistent," he maintained. Furthermore, 30 percent of Yalies from the classes of '98 and '99 were working for non-profit groups the year after graduating. From that same pool, only 15 percent were toiling as consultants or investment bankers. The true strength of these firms, Jones asserts, lies in perception. "Much more than 15 percent of students are influenced by the perceptions they have of these fields," Jones noted. "[They put] ads in the newspapers, post flyers, hold sumptuous receptions in hotels to woo students." Non-profit firms, meanwhile, recruit only after the for-profit rush has ended. "Non-profits start to recruit here just as consulting firms wind down...four months ago, if you didn't know this, you'd think consulting firms were the only things in the world."

Jones merely cautions against zealous pre-professionalism, but Yale's faculty treats "vocational" like a dirty word. Stanley Eisenstat, the director of undergraduate studies (DUS) of computer science, stridently asserts that the computer science major embraces the ethos of a liberal education. "We don't view ourselves as preparing students for certain vocations," he said. "We are trying to help students fit different [programming] languages into a larger framework or mindset. Our goal is that students understand basics, underlying theories, underlying knowledge...so they can take what they know and generalize it, in order to learn more. What industry wants has no effect on our curriculum...its desires are short-term and are geared toward next year's earnings."

Despite Yale's continued emphasis on a holistic curriculum, there are murmurs of change. Peck is skeptical of Yale's anti-vocationalism, noting, "That's our philosophical view—now what is the reality?" He cites the growing popularity of finance courses among economics majors as reflecting a greater student desire to work on Wall Street. In turn, this passion for specificity has led the economics department to rethink its strategy. "We have considered, at some length, tracks within the major," he said. "One of these tracks was finance—the area where students have expressed the most interest." But the idea is dead for now. "People don't fit into those neat pigeonholes," he said.

How Yalies see it

Pre-professional Yale students are concerned about a lack, not a growth, of vocational training. "Compared to Princeton and Penn—which has Wharton—we might be hurt in the future if we don't develop something [similar]," Bobbi Winslow, TD '00, said. An economics major planning to be an investment banker, Winslow notes that students have shown their attitudes through their class selection. "Economics classes are all packed," he said. "[But] economics gets a bad rap...pre-professionalism has become more of a general trend in my four years here. A lot of my friends who pursued liberal arts are looking at their degrees and saying, `what can I do with this?'"

Though not as sure about their financial futures, liberal arts students feel supported and recognized. Nicole Marafioti, TD '00, studies Medieval History as a special divisional major. "I was told my undergraduate degree didn't matter and I should just enjoy it," Marafioti noted. "I've gotten a lot of support [for my course of study] from professors and the History DUS [Robert Johnston]. They've been excited about the major." And, whether it knows it or not, Yale has room for more quirky pre-professional training. "I've planned to be a writer since before I got to Yale," Margaux Wexberg, PC '01, said. "Career-wise, I have received genuine help toward this end—but it has been haphazard. Usually, professors will give me information or help make me connections if I ask them. But I've never been to UCS, because they're more geared to help the typical student. But why shouldn't they be?"

SHAWN CHENG/YH

Yale and other top-tier schools stand as proud havens for the humanities and the liberal arts. As wealthy private schools with largely wealthy student bodies, elite institutions and their students have less of a need to foster practical skills. Diplomas bearing names like Yale are viewed as sufficient insurance of employment. "Let's face it," Johnston said. "You can't go to a place like Bowling Green University, major in history, and walk into a nice job the way [you can] here at Yale." Students at Yale also feel this sense of security. "I almost feel guilty," Wexberg noted. "Law school is just a second option for me, but from Yale I could head off to law schools that a lot of students would kill to get into." For Marafioti, the strength of the Yale name creates a foundation for scholarly and vocational freedom. "Some people here might be after comfort and money," she noted. "But I don't feel at a disadvantage, because I can always go back to that [too]."

But some students do not feel so lucky. Winslow came to Yale interested in film studies, but financial concerns made that path too risky. Instead, he was "funneled" into an economics major which appeared to be the path of most security. "I do think there's an injustice there," Winslow said. "Students here all work hard, but some have more freedom to select a major than others." For Peck, who admits to knowing "super-security" types who double-major in engineering and economics to ostensibly ensure employment, this uneasiness extends to students eyeing graduate or professional schools. "It used to be easier to get into the top [graduate and professional] schools," he claimed. "But the number of top programs has stayed—or appeared to stay—the same, while the number of bachelor degrees conferred has grown enormously." At Yale, a middle-of-the road economics student no longer walks a paved path to Harvard Business School.

Different approaches

Yale's resistance to market demands is highlighted by the acquiescence of comparable schools. As part of a trend which has also seen the number of computer science majors double in the past five years, Princeton recently began to offer an undergraduate certificate in finance. After fulfilling a five-course prerequisite, students can study to earn a finance certificate in addition to their regular degree. Although Johnston condemned the Princeton program as "against the spirit of Yale College," Program Representative Ailsa Roell counters by invoking anti-vocational language. "It's interesting intellectually and an exciting part of economics," she said. "[It has] practical relevance, but is also for understanding public policy issues. We try to steer a course that introduces [finance] in an academic way, away from the nitty-gritty details." In response to attitudes like Johnston's, Roell is understanding. "People are naturally worried that Princeton should not be providing a pre-professional education," she said. But should students be among the worried? "I don't think so," Roell said. "They can simply vote with their feet and not take the courses."

Robert Thirsk, director of the Career Development Office at Stanford, sees his school as more professionally-oriented than its New Haven counterpart. But Thirsk feels the focus is justified—the twin trends toward a "knowledge-based society" and economic expansion have created a richer job market. "The world has turned topsy-turvy in the last three to five years," he exclaimed. "There's no question recruiting and student hiring have gone up. The `dot-coms' have exploded. Two years ago, not a single `dot-com' came to campus. Now, Stanford undergraduates are walking in to Silicon Valley and making $65,000 to $70,000." But Stanford's admittedly pre-professional bent has negative offshoots. "Students are categorically not as passionate about social, political, and environmental issues," Thirsk continued. "It's okay to prepare for a job, but I'm concerned when this becomes more important than being socially responsible and making the world better for other people."

The future of a liberal education

To both students and faculty, a liberal education and corporate values seem like antagonists. According to members of the professional world, however, their environment only continues the intellectual growth that a liberal education starts. In the Oct. 25 issue of the New Yorker Rajat Gupta, the head of McKinsey & Company, exalted that "now we're by far the most attractive employer, period, for the meritocratic elite." Workers in his field agree, but add that this collection of sharp minds is not caught within a stringent professional environment. Consultants now write scholarly articles and do pro bono work that includes serving other governments. Consulting has become fluid and dynamic, insiders assert, and the perceived dichotomy between liberal arts and the corporate world is falling apart as a result.

JULIA TIERNAN/YH Undergraduate Career Services is leading the charge against pre-professional anxiety.

But as the old order disintegrates, are Yalies poised to seize the new one? Despite Yale's known emphasis on the humanities and its lack of pre-professional focus, recruiters from all sides say yes. By almost unchallenged consensus, Yale students are viewed as less pre-professional than their counterparts at comparable schools. However, recruiters stress that this image is not a bad one. Taimur Khan, TC '97, described his work recruiting for Mitchell Madison Group as "looking for motivated, bright people who are interested in the company and in the industry." In an economy where the needed skill sets constantly change, analytical and synthetic abilities remain at a premium.

It is thus ironic that champions of a liberal education sound more defensive then proud. "I'm not sure our [anti-vocational] attitude is completely wise," Johnston cautioned. At Stanford, Thirsk admitted that "university curricula change at a glacial speed." He continued, "This can be bad...we don't give students the applicable skills they need to hit the ground running." Describing his computer science department, Eisenstat put it more simply: "From some students' standpoints, we are too theoretical."

The greatest challenge to a liberal education is the schism between what teachers want to give students and what students wish to take. In a student culture that stresses preparation and performance more than ever, the professorial conception of knowledge for its own sake is becoming antiquated. Peck has observed a growing preoccupation with grades, which contributes to the serious Yale that he says has existed since the early '80s. Here, Peck can offer no comfort—with a Yale education that lacks in specificity what it makes up for in quality, grades do matter.

With more pressures—and more choices—than ever, many Yalies are struggling to thrust an often-confusing picture into a rational frame. "A few months ago, a first-year student came into my office," Jones recalled. "He said he wanted to triple major but could not, so he wanted to pick the pair out of math, computer science, and economics that would give him the best chance to be an i-banker." Jones responded with questions rather than answers. "I asked him why he wanted to be an i-banker, and he seemed confused that I was grilling him like that. He didn't know much about the job, only that it seemed to be something to which he should aspire." The story, Jones believes, is illustrative of students' needless anxiety and "mindset specificity," as well as Jones' own responsibility to alleviate it. "One big piece of our job is stress reduction," he explained. "We need to help students understand the world out there and to articulate with it."

In the end, according to faculty, this real-world understanding lies paradoxically at the heart of a liberal and non-vocational curriculum. Students, faculty, and administrators assert in unison that college is a vital building block for one's intellectual, social, and moral sensibilities. But can a liberal education survive in today's economy, at today's Yale? Johnston hopes so. "It's quite liberating [to attend to] the life of the mind without the constant pressure this culture has about who's trying to make the next buck," he said. "Students don't necessarily want the right things...but few 21-year-olds have a fully-developed moral sense of the world. It's more about finding a process, after they leave, in which they can continue their development." But Johnston does not react with optimism when his students carry their Yale diplomas to Wall Street. "I mourn a little."

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