ACCORDING to theorist Nassim Nicholas Taleb, a black swan event is defined by three characteristics: rarity, extreme impact, and retrospective predictability. The coronavirus pandemic fits the bill perfectly. It is rare, and has resulted in 1.5 million deaths so far, and is what possibility experts have warned about for years now.

What is more concerning is that Black Swan events are likely to become more common in the upcoming decades as a result of climate change and geopolitical instability, churning out events from natural disasters to man-made conflicts, and from financial crises to environmental ones.

If we take these projections seriously, this also means that having a vaccine for the coronavirus is by no means the “undo” button for us to return to the old, predictable world. Rather, given the bumpy road ahead, it’s imperative that we start treating the present as a “hinge of history” and start preparing for change. And one of those areas where transformative changes can’t come sooner is higher education.

Even without the pandemic, higher education is under a lot of stress, from facing issues of graduate un(der)employment to the challenge of education in a digital and tumultuous age where information is overabundant and opportunities are scarce and where uncertainties are sprouting and clarity are few.

No doubt, universities have tried to adapt. This, unfortunately, led to the university’s marketisation, turning them into school-factory chimaeras that are not able to live by their own founding principles of cultivating and disseminating knowledge, nor were they able to excel as the workforce factory the administrators imagine it to be (putting aside how problematic the idea is).

The centrifugal pressure of fulfilling two disparate goals result in profound unhappiness amongst both the educators and the educated.

On the one hand, academics complain of over-working due to them being expected of everything (from research to teaching to fundraising). On the other hand, students (rightfully) expected a lot given the hefty investment in money (which translates into loans for many) and time they paid for their education.

Rethinking terms

I reckon the only way out is to cull this delusion of thinking that university education will deliver what the job market needs on a silver platter. Many of us probably know from experience that there are skills you simply can’t learn in an academic setting such as the university, nor can learning be usefully framed within the structure of a degree programme.

For example, it’s just more helpful to take courses instead of year(s)-long programmes when it comes to learning skills.

It also does not make sense that a student needs to pick all the tools he/she needs in life without even entering the job market yet. Moreover, the current structure of undergraduate education that encourages specialisation so early in life is oriented towards training academics.

But most students do not want to be academics. That is perfectly fine, more so when the academic job market is at its bleakest yet.

One way to rethink higher education is to both extend and shorten terms. By extension, I mean normalising actual lifelong learning and not this image of old people going back to school. And by shortening, I mean we should challenge assumptions about the appropriate duration for fixed-term on-campus learning.

Let’s talk about shortening first. There is no reason why Malaysians should enter universities at the age of 19 or 20 (if one takes STPM) while Americans or the British or the Japanese do it at the age of 18. There is also no specific reason, barring exceptions like medicine, that undergraduate programmes on average should last three to four years instead of two to three years.

Shortening student time in university confers a few advantages. First, if students are graduating into low-skilled, entry-level positions, it’s better to start early. The opportunity cost of not having work experience gets higher as the student ages in a job market such as ours that is facing downward wage pressures. To be clear, I am not saying policy interventions to raise living wages are not needed.

Second, it reduces the cost of university for many students who not only need to pay tuition but also accommodation, which is quite pricey in urban areas. I am of course speaking to the context of Malaysia where free university education still seems like a distant prospect. Even if that is implemented, we still have to think about the substantial number of students enrolled in private institutions due to the limited space in public universities anyway.

Third, it discourages the problematic practice of internships which, on the one hand, stack the odds against students of lower social classes, and on the other hand, normalises the idea of free or underpaid labour.

It is much better for students to just formally start working and for industries to accept that the idea of a fresh and experienced graduate is an oxymoron.

Fourth, shortened time in university can be paired with lifelong learning. What is initially the “final” year can be converted into reclaimable credit hours whereby the individual can decide on his/her advanced learning after some time in the workforce, presumably with a better understanding of personal and job needs and with a better income.

The “returning” student should also be able to choose between several methods of learning, be it the kind of structured, immersive learning that is needed for deep specialisation and research, or flexible, course-based learning that can be done within and outside of campus.

Governments can chip in to sponsor advanced learning as they complement broader goals of continuous learning and workforce re- and upskilling. It also helps with the university’s vitality and revenue as it is no longer a place reserved for the doe-eyed young.

Rethinking curriculum

At this point, I think many would raise their objections as to how my proposed restructuring of the university seems to operate based on a market-centric logic. What about education for developing character, critical thinking, and a civil, concerned citizenry? Here is where my second proposal comes in: a common curriculum.

One of the problems of universities going for disciplinary, technical, and specialised learning is that it assumes that people need separate skills to navigate the world even as we face many of the same problems together as a society, nation, and planet.

There is no reason why a sophisticated understanding of politics should be confined to political science majors, and the scientific literacy needed to understand the challenge of climate change and ecological risks to science majors, and a competent understanding of computer science to IT majors when our lives are so influenced by the data economy.

Having a common curriculum is not a radical idea. Our former education minister had mooted something similar although it is not as extensive as what I am proposing here.

Here are a few good examples. In Singapore’s Yale-NUS College, all students need to learn literature, social thought, quantitative reasoning, and scientific inquiry. In the University of Chicago, students must take courses from all three components: the arts, the natural sciences, and the social sciences to fulfil the general education requirement.

Some may argue I am preaching for elitism by borrowing from these elite institutions, but I would say it’s even more elitist to deny most students (other than those who can afford it) a humanistic and holistic education.

In other words, what I am advocating is that students should share more classes at the fixed-term undergraduate level instead of getting segregated by their programmes and faculties. The whole first year of the university experience should be dedicated mainly to the common curriculum, while the second (and if necessary, third) year for majoring.

Having a common curriculum also helps with maintaining a diverse pool of scholars in the university, given that the demand for expertise is more evenly spread instead of between this dichotomy of market-friendly and unfriendly disciplines (the latter often driven to extinction to great social cost).

The common curriculum also helps with the cultivation of transferable skills such as logical reasoning, scientific and mathematical literacy, empathy, problem-solving, deep comprehension, and effective communication.

These are often the skills looked for (and whose absence is lamented) in the job market anyway. To be honest, they should just be called common skills considering that any functioning, civil democracy needed them anyway.

To be sure, what I am proposing here is not a blueprint nor can these changes be delivered overnight. Major changes at all levels of schooling are needed, which I do not have the space to elaborate here. For example, to shorten fixed-term university time, the pre-university years must deliver quality education in a form that is less content-centric but literacy-centric, with assessments that prioritise students crossing thresholds and not climbing grades.

But if there’s one thing this pandemic teaches us, it’s that things we have taken for granted are not as natural as they seem. If now is not the time for bold and radical reimagination then when? – December 15, 2020.

* A Forensic Science-Asian Studies hybrid, Nicholas Chan is interested in how authority is shaped, exercised, and more importantly, resisted in Southeast Asia.