Speaker to Animals wrote:Peter Turchin wrote a book titled
Secular Cycles in which he described the cycle of rise and fall of civilization in the west. One of the stages includes a credentials boom in which a lot of people get credentials, making credentials worthless. In the past that would happen in terms of patents of nobility. If I remember correctly, the internecine conflict comes next.
What we are seeing is a kind of credentials boom with credentials in our society, rather than patents of nobility, come as college degrees. But most people are not qualified for college, which made this industry of pseudo-academics so profitable. We have legions of people with degrees in women's studies, and other fake academic programs who have nowhere to go in life. Even amongst STEM degrees we have universities that are making it painfully easy to get the degree as long as students get the enormous loans and feed the beast.
When the credentials bubble bursts, you see a huge conflict amongst the elites who depend upon them.
It's not exactly a new problem. All the credentials in the world will not create a job for you. You may be the most knowledgeable person on any given subject, but that won't get you a job; you could write the most brilliant and informative book of all time, but that won't get it published. The better educated you are, the less likely you'll be to suffer a work related injury. We cannot all study history and have a mother and father in the entertainment industry to ensure (could be
insure, in this case) a career as a podcaster like a certain "Dan" with whom many of us are familiar.
The following is a translation from Chaucer's prologue to "The Canterbury Tales." The word clerk here reflects what it has come to mean today, though it had meant, clerk, as in cleric, as in clergy--but there were only so many positions to fill--so, your needlessly overeducated ass might just wind up working in a gas station. (This was written sometime before 1400 AD, so, yeah--nothing new.)
A CLERK from Oxford was there also,
Who'd studied philosophy, long ago.
As lean was his horse as is a rake,
And he too was not fat, that I take,
But he looked emaciated, moreover, abstemiously.
Very worn off was his overcoat; for he
Had got him yet no churchly benefice,
Nor he was worldly to accept secular office.
For he would rather have at his bed's head
Some twenty books, all bound in black or red,
Of Aristotle and his philosophy
Than rich robes, fiddle, or gay psaltery.
Yet, and for all he was philosopher in base,
He had but little gold within his suitcase;
But all that he might borrow from a friend
On books and learning he would swiftly spend,
And then he'd pray diligently for the souls
Of those who gave him resources to attend schools.
He took utmost care and heed for his study.
Not one word spoke he more than was necessary;
And that was said with due formality and dignity
And short and lively, and full of high morality.
Filled with moral virtue was his speech;
And gladly would he learn and gladly teach.
"She had yellow hair and she walked funny and she made a noise like... O my God, please don't kill me! "
