Quality of Life Is Much More Than a Job

Larry Fennelly

It has often been remarked that the saddest thing about youth is that it is wasted on the young.

A recent newspaper report on a survey conducted annually among college freshmen states that today's students are more materialistic and less altruistic than at any other time in the 17 years of the survey.

Not surprising in these hard times, students' major objective is to be financially well off. Less important than ever is developing a meaningful philosophy of life. As a result, the most popular college course today is not literature or history but accounting.

Students' interest in teaching, social service and other altruistic fields is at a low, while enrollment in business programs, engineering and computer science is way up.

That's no surprise either. A friend of mine (a salesperson for a chemical company) was making twice the salary of her college instructors her first year on the job—even before she completed her two-year associate degree.

What good does their music (or history or literature) do them? She was fond of saying. And that was four years ago; I don't think I want to know how much she's earning now.

Frankly, I'm proud of the young woman—not of her attitude, but of her success. But why can't we have it both ways? Can't we educate people for life as well as for a career?

In a time of increasing specialization—a time when 90 percent of all the scientists who have ever lived are currently alive—more than ever we need to know what is truly important in life. Most of us learn this too late in life. It's only between the ages of 30 and 50 that most people finally arrive at the inevitable conclusion that they were meant to do more than serve a corporation, a government agency, or whatever. We realize that quality of life is not entirely determined by a balance sheet. Sure, everyone wants to be financially comfortable, but we also want to feel that we have a perspective on the world beyond the confines of our occupation; we want to be able to serve our fellow men.

If it's a fact that these realizations do not dawn until mid-life, is it then not the role of educational institutions to prepare the way for them?

While it's true that everyone needs a career—preferably a well-paid one—it's equally true that our civilization has amassed an incredible amount of knowledge in fields far removed from our own and that we are better for our understanding of these other contributions—be they scientific or artistic. It is equally true that, in studying the diverse wisdom of others, we learn how to think. More important, perhaps, education teaches us to see the connections between things, as well as to see beyond our immediate needs.

But the most important argument for a broad education is that in studying the accumulated wisdom of the ages, we improve our moral sense. I saw a cartoon recently that shows a group of businessmen looking puzzled as they sit around a conference table; one of them is talking on the intercom. Miss Baxter, he says, could you please send in someone who can distinguish right from wrong?

In the long run that's what education really ought to be about. And I think it can be. My college roommate, now head of a large shipping company in New York, not surprisingly was a business major. But he also hosted a classical music show on the college's radio station and listened to Wagner as he studied his accounting. That's the way it should be. Oscar Wilde was right when he said that we ought to give our ability to our work but our genius to our lives.

Let's hope our educators answer the students' cries for career education, but at the same time let's ensure that the students are prepared for the day when they realize what life is really all about.