An editor by trade, a writer by avocation and an Expert by some cosmic practical joke, ericpete puts together the newsletter for Experts Exchange.
In the past month or so and over the next couple of weeks, about a gazillion people in their early twenties put on robes and flat-topped caps and went through the commencement exercises at colleges and universities around the country. They heard speeches -- most of which will be forgotten, which is okay because they probably won't be as profound as the one given at Lake Forest University's 1977 celebration -- about how it's the first day of the rest of their lives, how hard work will get you where you want to be, and even how the early false starts and disappointments work themselves out.
One of the recurring themes across the country this year is that of how crappy the job market is. If you're in engineering or science or accounting -- the bachelor's degree with the best prospects in the coming year -- you're probably okay, because you're cheaper to employ than the people our age who have been hit by the "economic downturn" of the last four or five years are; for one thing, we need the money to pay for that college education you just finished receiving. If you earned your degree in the liberal arts, as I did, then Anderson Cooper's remarks -- "I too was a liberal arts major.. so like you I have no actual skill. I majored in political science, I graduated in 1989, and I?d focused almost entirely on the Soviet Union and communism.. so when the Berlin wall fell I was, well, I was screwed..." -- are pretty much spot on.
Or maybe not. In a column in the New York Times last week, David Brooks wrote that graduates "will have enormous power if you are the person in the office who can write a clear and concise memo." He goes on to say that "Studying the humanities will give you a familiarity with the language of emotion. In an information economy, many people have the ability to produce a technical innovation: a new MP3 player. Very few people have the ability to create a great brand: the iPod."
Mr. Brooks, who gave a commencement speech of his own about a month ago, goes on to say, "Finally, ... studying the humanities helps you befriend The Big Shaggy."
The Big Shaggy, according to Mr. Brooks, is our emotional side -- the gut. He explains that we have spent decades coming up with systems for describing various kinds of human behavior: economic models, market studies, sampling and polling, statistical analysis, and on and on. But none of that will explain why PG&E -- the largest supplier of electricity to California -- can spend $46 million only to lose a statewide election to opponents who spent $90,000. The answer is in the Big Shaggy.
Mr. Brooks' thoughts dovetailed with an article, sent to us by a colleague and posted by Jodi Enda at the American Journalism Review that noted the lack of coverage of the "buildings" in Washington in favor of the issue-oriented beats. Ms. Enda blames a number of factors for the decline in newspapers' regular attention to agencies like the Supreme Court, the Federal Trade Commission and the Department of Agriculture: declining revenues at newspapers mostly, with what could be called nanosecond journalism running a close second.
That means that nobody is paying attention for very long. No one cares about the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration -- until people start dying in Toyotas; but they get forgotten, and the Mine Safety and Health Administration gets the attention, when a coal mine explodes in West Virginia, which is the focus only until a BP oil well blows up in the Gulf of Mexico, and the Minerals Management Service starts getting asked why.
One can blame the big newspapers -- which are, indeed, suffering through attacks on their most profitable revenue sources from the Internet at the same time costs for everything are rising -- for cutting back on their Washington bureaus, but if you're a publisher in, say, Phoenix or Cincinnati, doesn't it make sense to defend your home turf, as opposed to paying for shallow coverage in Washington, especially when you have to compete for news with not just the Times and the Washington Post, but with all of the television news organizations and wire services? If you're the Washington reporter for the McClatchy chain covering the environment, you've been pretty busy over the last six months.
The problem is that the state of the dead tree news business is changing -- not unexpected, really, considering the 25 years from 1960 to 1985, even the smallest weekly could navigate the change from raised type (that had been around since Gutenberg) to offset printing to phototypesetting to computers without much difficulty. People want information now, and they expect it in rapid-fire sequence; personally, I blame television (22 minutes for everything you need to know, including the inevitable cute puppy story from the weatherman at the end of the broadcast) from people whose concern for an informed public ranks somewhere below ratings, ad revenues, fresh faces of good looking people in front of dramatic settings, being first with the story, and tonight's dinner reservation on the priority list.
The depth of the story -- like the months-long investigation into what became known as Watergate -- isn't possible; no newspaper would devote that much time or that many resources to it. And frankly, the audience wouldn't stand for it; the devil was in the details, and no one wants to read that much. In the age of Twitter, Gerald Ford never becomes Vice President, let alone President.
And that's where both Mr. Brooks and Ms. Enda offer a glimmer of hope to all of those liberal arts graduates. Nature -- and news -- abhors a vacuum, and it is being filled by laid-off reporters working for peanuts but covering those agencies for niche websites and blogs, producing reliable, verifiable work. If the PG&E debacle at the polls proved nothing else, it showed that despite wanting only the headlines without any real discussion of all of the issues at play, H. L. Mencken's adage that "Nobody ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American public" isn't quite true.
At some level, people want to understand, and those liberal arts grads are the ones to deliver. "If you spend your life riding the links of the Internet, you probably won't get too far into The Big Shaggy either, because the fast, effortless prose of blogging (and journalism) lacks the heft to get you deep below," Mr. Brooks wrote.
"But over the centuries, there have been rare and strange people who possessed the skill of taking the upheavals of thought that emanate from The Big Shaggy and representing them in the form of story, music, myth, painting, liturgy, architecture, sculpture, landscape and speech. These men and women developed languages that help us understand these yearnings and also educate and mold them. They left rich veins of emotional knowledge that are the subjects of the humanities."
One final thought. Since this is a newsletter, sent by a company that has access to information from some of the best minds on the planet when it comes to the intricacies and peculiarities of electronic mail, we don't include a lot of video. Sure, we want you to take a look at the links (if only because some of them are funny), but what really matters to us is that you read. In trying to track down what some of these people had to say, we found that most websites now don't bother with providing a transcript.
It's largely video; try to find Alton Brown's address to the University of Georgia, and you get a three-part video shot with a Flip.
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