“Humanity has reached the point . . . where knowledge is so abundant and easily accessible that we are able to solve some of the greatest puzzles from previous generations,” writes Baruch President S. David Wu in this month’s blog post.
As we are at the beginning of a new academic year, I thought it would be appropriate to turn our attention to a topic of some intellectual interest—knowledge creation, appropriation, and dissemination. Ironically, the idea for this two-part blog was sparked while I was taking my summer hiatus away from academic pursuits.
It has been a longstanding tradition for me to break from my routines during the summer months as a way to mentally recharge. My wife and I were finally able to start exploring museums in the City—from the special exhibits at the Met and the New York Public Library, to the guided tours at the Tenement Museum, to Frick Madison, Cooper Hewitt, the Cloisters, MOMA PS1, and the Noguchi. As we wandered and marveled at the incredible human creativity on display, I felt inspired to see different facets of the world that often escape me in the normal rhythm of life. Far too often we are stuck in a particular way of thinking for a period of time, fixated in a certain mindset. I learned years ago that in order to get myself unstuck, I need to explore a completely different set of ideas.
Along with our “neighborhood” museum strolls, I turned to my summer reading list, which included a recent book by physicist Brian Greene, Until the End of Time: Mind, Matter, and Our Search for Meaning in an Evolving Universe. The book is a rare attempt by a scientist to cross-reference and cross-validate different paradigms of thinking from fields as broad as evolutionary biology, anthropology, language, literature, philosophy, history, art, myth, religion, and psychology. Greene’s words took me on a journey, and as I devoured the pages, it felt like a symphony blended with the faint chorus I experienced from the museums and still it lingers in my mind.
So, What’s the Big Idea?
The main theme that runs through the book is the interplay between order—evolution and natural selection that create structures—and disorder—entropy, a tendency of the universe to move toward chaos and disorder. But what captured my attention was the way Greene told his story, which suggests that we—as humans and scholars—approach fundamentally similar questions but do so from widely different perspectives. “Physicists are reductionists and so tend to look beneath complex phenomena for explanations that rely on properties and interactions of simpler constituents,” he wrote. And yet from that reductionist view, he was able to connect what physicists know about time, energy, gravity, and the Big Bang with centuries of discovery from evolutionary biology, consciousness, free will, language, and religion—but through storytelling. Greene explained why he took this approach when he wrote, “Whether reductionist or emergent, whether mathematical or figurative, whether scientific or poetic, we piece together the richest understanding by approaching questions from a range of different perspectives.”
In a previous era, this degree of knowledge layering and synthesizing was enormously difficult or simply impossible. Humanity has reached the point, however, where knowledge is so abundant and easily accessible that we are able to solve some of the greatest puzzles from previous generations. In my pragmatic, engineer’s way of thinking: As branches of knowledge are demystified and become easily accessible, different branches of human knowledge start to look like toolboxes that can be utilized to help us understand and problem-solve the world around us. But that is easier said than done. Allow me to explain.
My Own Journey
My late father was a physicist, and for the first three years of my college career, I was a physics major. I loved the simplicity, precision, and elegance mathematics provides that quite accurately describes (and predicts) the physical world around us. However, I was not satisfied with the world of matter and had an insatiable appetite to learn about the human mind, emotions, and creative actions. I also wasn’t content with the reductionist approach in understanding the complexities of our world. As a result, I changed my major to engineering and have spent most of my adult life studying complex systems where a multitude of actors interact to create emergent phenomenon. As an academic, I have spent my spare time over the last 40 years reading books in almost any discipline other than physical science and engineering—because I crave to understand how and why people think the way they do.
This is why Greene’s book resonates with me: He came from a physicist’s perspective but had the wisdom to recognize the limitations of his discipline. He never abandoned physics nor his training, but through masterful synthesizing and cross-referencing of knowledge, ingenious storytelling, and gleaning insights from different granularity, scope, and complexity, he demonstrated for us how disciplines can be simultaneously complementary, interconnected, and mutually reaffirming. Greene summarized this beautifully when he wrote, “There’s little to be gained by physicists clamoring that theirs is the most fundamental explanatory framework or from humanists scoffing at the hubris of unbridled reductionism. A refined understanding is gleaned by integrating each discipline’s story into a finely textured narrative.”
This motivated me to think more deeply about the role of universities and what it means to be a scholar, a teacher, and an earnest contributor to the incredible collection of human knowledge.
The Role of Academic Institutions
Most of us who chose to pursue careers in academia were drawn to the intellectual fulfillment and freedom it offers. We enjoy tremendous autonomy in deciding our scholarship areas and career path, and we are free to pursue what we teach in the classroom. At the beginning of my academic career as a junior faculty member, I remember marveling at the fact that I was paid to do what I loved, in exactly the way I chose. How many occupations outside academia offer the privilege of total intellectual independence? Over time, I came to realize that this freedom comes with an awesome responsibility. The academy is designed to be a place that exercises rigorous quality control of information—or insights—that can, and should be, passed along as knowledge. Throughout human history, in almost all cultures, scholars have searched for ways to separate timeless wisdom—knowledge that advances the human frontier—from hearsay, opinions, and beliefs that do not stand the test of time.
My father frequently said, “The world often does not work as it appears, nor in the way we presume.” He showed me—with many stories—that what we presume can be a powerful blinder that deceives us. To overcome that human tendency, we must be careful and patient, not take anything for granted, and do the work to truly understand—never jumping to conclusions without verifying the evidence. And if that is not enough, we must keep an open mind and always be willing to be corrected. I often think of his advice as the fundamental idea of an academy. It is the most crucial and sacred responsibility of an academic institution: to safeguard and protect the integrity of knowledge before we pass it on to the next generation. Academics and scholars are individuals who spend their lives verifying, scrutinizing, and critiquing other scholars’ ideas, while subjecting their own ideas for others to do the same. The system has worked well for hundreds of years, and it is more important than ever to exercise that rigor, devotion, and honesty today.
Approaching the Same Questions from Different Paradigms
The desire to explore and to make sense of our evolving world is instinctive to our species, connecting us to each other and to our collective human heritage. Some of us are drawn to the study of human conditions, imagination, and creation, while others are driven to investigate the unknown or uncharted world around us—but the yearning for new insight and new ways to see our world is the same. At the most fundamental level, we are all going after the same questions. However we approach these questions, it is critical to have the humility to recognize that we are often limited by our own adopted paradigm of thinking—we are only using a particular set of tools in the toolbox.
History taught us that cross-referencing and integrating different disciplinary perspectives has the potential to magnify insight and generate novel solutions to complex problems, achieving far greater advances—even breakthroughs. The benefits are far-ranging across research and scholarship, as well as pedagogy. Changing and expanding our learning this way allows us to engage our students in a different way, helping them connect what they are learning in all their courses. With the awesome accessibility of knowledge, it is perfectly possible for a humanities student to contemplate the philosophical implications of the essential conditions for life to form, for consciousness to emerge, and what that means for our own existence. It is also possible for a student of science, business, or policy to have a better understanding of the human condition, inspiration, and appreciation of the incredible power of creativity and imagination.
In Part II of this blog post next month, I will take a deeper dive into the relationship between knowledge creation, appropriation, and dissemination that could stimulate fresh ideas and shape new thinking for our institutional future.
17 Comments
Just for sheer love of the give and take of discussion and debate, David: I find myself pausing at the phrase “History taught us.” I think we can learn from history, but each of us seems to learn something different from it. Much of the time, I fear, what we learn is exactly what we want to learn, what bolsters or confirms what we’re already thinking. Sometimes I think this is unfortunate, and that it would be a good thing if history taught us all the same thing. Other times, though, I think to myself, what right does history have to tell us what to think or how to see things. It is, I suspect, not just one of these ways or the other. And that, as we say, is what makes for horse races. Glenn
Glenn: You are, of course, right about the fact that we learn what we want to learn from history. To me, however, history serves as a “library of evidence.” It can be valuable if we make use of the evidence in a careful and methodical way to examine “some” possible outcomes of our ideas. While history can not predict the future, for complex phenomena or systems, the fact that something actually occurred in a certain way does provide important clues. Nevertheless, I did use the term somewhat loosely in my post and I thank you for taking the time to contribute to this conversation!
Switching to your main topic, David, I can tell you that I used to teach a course that was organized entirely around going to NYC’s museums. It met once a week for 3 hours and the focus was on the many ways the arts and sciences have traditionally been integrated. I got some funding so that we could meet at Baruch and take cabs to the museums, so that our students could get some sense of where they’re located in the city. Maybe it’s time to bring it back.
Thank you, Glenn. I am a strong supporter for leveraging cultural institutions in New York City as an integral part of our education.
Just a note to point out that many NYC institutions and museums offer free admission to students with a CUNY ID … Museum of Modern Art and the Whitney among them! Let’s encourage our students to take advantage of these amazing cultural resources, because, yes, it does open the mind in ways that you can’t anticipate. Any time I go into a NYC cultural site, I make a point of asking at the entrance whether CUNY students can come in for free, and if the answer is yes, I post it on social media to try to get the word out.
I do the same–every museum I went, I check if they offer free access for CUNY students. Thank you for posting that information!
Dr. Petersen, Dr. Wu, the museum itself is a historical repository. And it teaches lessons just in the placement of its artifacts. When we take a class trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, we start off with the Egyptian exhibit. Then we proceed to the African exhibit, which is on the other side of the building. But isn’t Egypt in Africa?
Thank you for this perspective, Arthur. The diversity and richness of these cultural institutions around us help to expose our students to different perspectives that broaden their thinking, and in some cases, provide opportunities for them to challenge conventional thinking and social constructs.
S. David Wu, I want to thank you for your blog, for your insights, for visiting local museums, for opening up this conversation. Cross pollination from various perspectives is what I think just might save us as a civilization. Giving space, voice & respect to different fields and various approaches makes for an informed AND delicious salad. I cherish my time at the school of public affairs and though I thought I would use the degree in an office, I know that the unconventional way I am utilizing it now is not just OK, but perhaps….beautiful. The angle of incidence = the angle of reflection♡☆
Greene’s book is now next in my Audible queue!
Hi David, you mentioned on your post that “The system has worked well for hundreds of years” but I would challenge you to consider (and possibly address) the less autistic aspects of academic.
We often hear that academa, at it’s core, is about the pursuit of knowledge and intellectual enlightenment. However, the significance of a college education has taken on a new meaning in modern times. Do students attend college because of a desire to learn or because of a precieved need to meet society’s requirements for financial security?
I understand that you offered your perspectives as a way of stoking the fires of intellectual debate and introspection but wonder if framing academia as THE source of knowledge generation makes sense in the era of corporate hegemony and globalization.
Hi, Linus: Thank you for this perspective. I’d be the first to acknowledge the dark side of academia, many of which I have touched on in my earlier posts. When it comes to knowledge creation, there are plenty of examples where ideas counter to the mainstream were suppressed, marginalized or outright rejected, and that deserves a whole different discussion. The system is by no means perfect, and like other human institutions, has plenty of flaws. But when we look at the broader picture of knowledge creation, appropriation, and dissemination over the past millennium, it is hard to deny the important role played by academia–broadly defined. My point wasn’t that academia is the only source of knowledge, but that it is designed to maintain the integrity of knowledge by verifying, scrutinizing, and critiquing ideas through peer reviews and other forms of checks and balances.
Thank you so much for contributing to this conversation!
Hello Linus and President Wu,
From a student perspective:
Thank you for bringing up the reason why many students attend college in the first place, especially if it is for the undergraduate degree. We seek education to meet the market requirements for job satisfaction. Market requirements tell us that we need a high GPA, work experience, extracurricular experience, and something extra that will differentiate us amongst other candidates.
I for example, as the first person in my family, have been striving for a higher degree and job fulfillment and satisfaction. I went to Queensborough Community College. It was the time that I had to heal my soul, learn English, organizing skills (I am a big fan of a physical calendar planner, which helps to build the habit of staying accountable not only to others but also to yourself). I absolutely loved my experience at QCC; the seed of “believe in myself” was planted. Extremely smart Professors saw my commitment and they gave me the boost I exactly needed; Belief and Encouragement. They often hit on the right spot by saying: “If your gut tells you are capable of doing it, do it – do not limit your potential. Don’t be afraid to fail and learn from it, be afraid of not failing and not taking the opportunity to learn from it”. I failed many times on different levels, it hurts; but I have promised myself to learn from it. Hearing other people overcoming their challenges is so powerful, as we often tend to idealize people we see/meet/listen to, but once we know some parts of their story, it works as an extra boost! Also, many of us who are CUNY students come from different backgrounds, we overcome different struggles, traumas, etc. and a purely academic environment is often time very overwhelming, so we need that encouragement and empowerment from those who we seek to be great role models. The transition to Baruch was challenging, curricula were challenging, the environment is so business-driven that it almost felt like a miniature of ” Wall Street”. However, I knew what I came here for, education and job opportunity. I was a little bit disappointed, because as much as education was there it felt like a race, and the eventual goal switched from obtaining an education to obtaining a degree. I have secured myself with a full-time, but am I satisfied with the education I got…? Well, I probably remember more from my QCC classes like micro and macroeconomics or statistics; than I remember from my BBA Baruch classes.
Now, I am a Baruch graduate student and I can see the difference in the students’ attitudes towards the classes – in most cases, it is a pleasure to work in a group assignment as these students are all there by their choice. It seems like they are not in a race for a job and financial security, but for the enhancement and diversity of their own knowledge. Finally, in my graduate studies, I feel again like I felt in QCC; I am studying to build my knowledge and have satisfaction that I fulfill my cravings. Sharing that knowledge with family and friends is very satisfying.
Thank you, President Wu, for this blog, it is wonderful to hear your perspective, thought process, and vision for the future!
Thank you, Justyna, for sharing your journey and your perspective in different stages of your academic endeavor–it is enlightening. I can very much relate to the sentiment when you describe your experience in the graduate program: “It seems like they are not in a race for a job and financial security, but for the enhancement and diversity of their own knowledge.” Many of us, myself included, experienced the very same transformation. I am hoping that we can bring this element of learning into our undergraduate classes–to inspire a sense of curiosity and wonder through experiential learning, undergraduate research, etc.
Hi David….I really enjoyed this blog and will probably pick up the book you mentioned. Thank you for a wonderful insight. Baruch is so lucky to have you!
Thank you for your latest blog, David. I appreciate your and your father’s wisdom that “what we presume can be a powerful blinder that deceives us.” Being careful and patient–not jumping to conclusions–is a great challenge. For example when I pass the Lex Hotel on Lexington Avenue between 25th and 26th Streets, and see that it appears shuttered and out of business, that appearance may not be true. I have no evidence other than the building’s currently inactive state that it is available for lease or sale, and yet I can’t help but recommend inquiring about it as a future residence hall for Baruch’s students. How wonderful would it be to have a dorm for our students right around the corner from campus rather than 70 blocks north of it. It speaks to your reference of evolution. A great thing for us even at the expense of the hotel’s (presumed) lack of fitness to survive.
This is an interesting way of describing inter-disciplinary work, which is crucial as we tackle climate change and other ‘wicked problems’. There is a tension, of course, between depth and breadth in research pursuits, driven by the incentive / promotion structure.
I am most interested in hearing more about the implications for pedagogy – perhaps in a future post.