Where are the start-ups in the Liberal Arts?

Yesterday, George Mason University economists Alex Tabarrok and Tyler Cowen announced MRU, a modular course design platform that they’ll be using to offer free and potentially paid courses in economics, online. I’ve learned a lot from their blog since I started reading during the run-up to the financial crisis, and I plan to at least look in on their first course on Developmental Economics. It’s not a massive open online course (MOOC for short), but it’s set up to enable them to produce MOOCs. Experiments in the MOOC future look increasingly promising. But where are the startup and experiments in radical de-digitization?

If you’re a college professor in the humanities, it’s hard not to see the recent flurry of for-profit and online education start-ups as a repudiation of your model for pedagogy. Even as the evidence accumulates that students are most likely to increase their critical thinking skills during an education that focuses on close reading, analytic writing, and high expectations, we see an increasing number of resources devoted to lecturing, a model for which the internet is only slightly better-suited than the VCR was.

At the same time, many in the humanities, myself included, have worried that what drives tuition is primarily administrative rent-seeking. We look at our salaries and at the salaries of the deans, and notice that we’ve been doing more work for less pay over the last few decades even while tuition skyrockets. Meanwhile, newly-minted PhDs flood the workforce looking for jobs. So why then do we continue to work for institutions that have been steering astray? It makes sense to talk about the oppression of the poor and poorly connected, but in what sense are the folks who literally dispense cultural capital capable of being oppressed by their labor conditions?

Oversupply of teachers and undersupply of institutional support for the right kind of teaching: looks like a recipe for a start-up!

The most fertile period for the development of new colleges in the US was the period between the American Revolution and the Civil War, when the 24 colonial colleges that existed before Independence were joined by more than 600 more. Many did not survive, but this was a period of intense educational experimentation and innovation. The land-grant universities aggregated and centralized much of this process. but colleges and universities were still being formed at a rapid clip: there are more than 4000 today. Yet how many new institutions are devoted to the liberal arts? The practices I associate with liberal arts teaching tend to be cultivated on old ivy-covered campuses rather than shiny new startups. Though many schools are called “liberal arts” they do not all make a full-time practice of that pedagogy. Perhaps the problem is demand: one of the oldest colleges, St. John’s, existed before the civil war, and today it adds just 250 new freshmen every year to its Great Books program. Shimer College in Chicago has 111 students total! But I think there’s room for growth (given the evidence and such a small base.)

For all the “massive” promise of MOOCs, they involve considerable capital and startup costs. Yet the teaching profession requires little more than books, paper, pens, and (maybe) trashcans. With folks embracing their own farming, canning, paper-making, and butchering, there ought to be some unmet demand for pedagogical nostalgia of the old schools: discussions under stoa, peripatetic dialogues, and sitting around a table puzzling out the meaning of a text. Maybe the next time one of these would-be online education innovators goes bust, we should give it a shot.

Transitioning to BIG+VAT

John Quiggin raises some interesting questions about the BIG+VAT in the comments to the last post:

I’m unconvinced by your transition strategy, though of course the nature of a transition strategy depends on the starting point. I don’t see how a ‘small’ [UBI*], say $3000/person/r or $1 trillion per year in the US context let’s you eliminate any means tests, and it certainly doesn’t let you relax the conditionality of benefits.

By contrast, my proposed transition to the GMI works precisely by relaxing conditionality. In the US context, for example, you could remove term limits on welfare, make access to unemployment insurance easier, make early access to Social Security more favorable etc.

My version of the transition probably has tons of public choice problems that I’m not fully considering, inflection points where the short-term cost-benefit looks bad to the median voter, but I don’t think the GMI is better in this regard. As I see it, a small BIG+VAT is unconditional, itself, but leaves the current “conditionality” considerations for traditional benefits in place. Yet as the BIG grows, they can be eliminated.

If the starting VAT was 5% of consumer spending, then in 2008 it would have raised about $2500 per household, which is a little more than the Alaska Permanent Dividend. (The median household would pay exactly what it receives, and there would be no cap for luxury expenditures like there is for payroll taxes.) But part of what makes poverty is household size: the median US household is 2.6, but the lowest decile household is smaller, and has fewer wage earners. In general, then, poverty is not caused by spending more, but by earning less. We do prioritarian ethics a disservice when we pretend otherwise.

So, on a 5% VAT+BIG, a family of 2 living in the bottom decile would have $2500 more a year, no matter how much they earn. (I haven’t said this, but I imagine that this would be paid on a per-person basis, not per-household.) You can’t do much with that, but it’s a start: it’s about what foodstamps are worth (for a family of 2 living on less than $19,128) and about twice what low-income heating/cooling assistance pays, or roughly equal to LIHEAP plus Medicaid. At 10% VAT+BIG, you could start to phase those out, plus foodstamps, or (the incredibly restrictive) TANF completely. At 15% you can eliminate all of the above. At 25%, you’ve basically replaced the value of the federal means-tested benefits, which in the US right now is equal to about $12,000-$13,000.

I think that a truly just BIG would require about 30%-35% VAT+BIG, and in that case you could eliminate Social Security, as well. (Social Security is not actually a redistributive form of social insurance: it’s based on your income so rich people receive more and poor less. Phasing out the Social Security payroll tax would be great for workers of all incomes, but especially the least-advantaged!)

Of course, all along the way, you’ll be able to gradually reduce income taxes and means-tested programs, so I can readily imagine some inflection points where these reductions and gains are not linear. There’s all sorts of public choice hay to be made of those moments, and I’d be interested to think them through. What happens if the VAT+BIG ramps up 1% a year? What about 1/2% a year?

Another Badly-Aimed Attack on the Basic Income Guarantee from Crooked Timber

John Quiggin has been taking up the case against the basic income guarantee at Crooked Timber recently. See here and here. Unfortunately, he is attacking a weak man version of the policy.

It doesn’t look like he actually opposes the BIG, in theory, but his objections all appear to demonstrate that a Basic Income is much too hard and expensive to implement, short of a revolution. As such, he ignores the experimental evidence out of Namibia, Manitoba, and the US. Quiggin starts by eliminating an unconditional and universal basic income guarantee and instead focuses on a means-tested guaranteed minimum. Then he assumes that this will reduce employment as workers leave the workforce (presumably to surf). He also assumes that it will be funded by income taxes, natural resource extraction taxes, or capital expropriation.

All of these assumptions are wrong, and caste the BIG in the worst possible light. The real appeal of the BIG is that it is easy to implement, can work piecemeal, will likely increase employment and productivity, and can ramp up slowly, and even unsteadily, to make the transition politically palatable and in accordance with the rule of law.

Cheap at Any Price (“Cost” versus “Dead-weight Loss”)

How much would a basic income cost? There are a few ways to ask this question:

  • “How much would we have to raise taxes in order to pay for this policy?”
  • “How much productivity would we lose under this policy?”
  • “What would the effective tax rate be under this policy?”

It’s important to note that these are separate questions. We would certainly have to raise tax rates to pay for a basic income: there is not a currently a revenue stream devoted to it. These higher taxes might reduce people’s propensity to work, and still more productivity might be lost because people choose not to work when their needs are met. However, depending on how those taxes are collected, such an increase might not increase the effective tax rate: the difference between the tax rate and the services supplied. The early Crooked Timber discussion totally confused effective rates with headline rates, in much the same way that people pretend that the rich actually paid 91% under Eisenhower. They didn’t.

The best way to ask this question would be:

  • “What is the dead-weight loss of a basic income guarantee and its associated taxation, compared to what we have now?”

The answer is that, on the most plausible accounts, a basic income guarantee is actually cheaper than the current system.

It’s important to note that the current cost of government in the US is approximately 21.41% of GDP. That’s the GDP divided by the Disposable Personal Income. Doing it this way adds back transfers payments and the positive benefits of government like firefighters and medical research. 21.41% is how much money we spend on all the stuff we don’t really want: invasions and aerial drones, pretextual traffic stops, cavity searches, TSA employees, drug warriors, and CIA black sites.

Government as a whole produces net benefits (a social surplus) because it makes transactions possible through the rule of law. Yet GDP probably overvalues government services and undervalues technological innovation over time, so it’s pretty controversial whether the number is anywhere close to this  21.41%  in reality.

In contrast, calculating the economic cost of a transfer payment is pretty easy: I take $100 from Bill Gates and give it to a poor person, there’s no lost disposable personal income in that transaction. Gates has less, but the poor person has more. Yet some ways of funding that transfer can be said to produce a dead-weight loss, an “excess burden” compared to other revenue-generating mechanisms. If it costs me $10 dollars to pay for the administrative costs of running the $100 transfer, the transfer tax costs 10% of disposable personal income. If Bill Gates produces $10 less income than he would otherwise because he has less of an incentive to work knowing that some of his money will be taxed, then the deadweight loss is 20%. ($10 from lost productivity, and $10 to pay for the transfer.) The current administrative costs of Social Security are 0.9%, which isn’t much, so the question is, how much less will Gates and the poor person work under the BIG?

It’s a trick question, of course: Bill Gates doesn’t work, and neither do the very poor! The capitalist allows his investments to work for him, and the poor can’t afford to work or they’ll lose their benefits. So some transfers are less distortionary than others.

Unconditional & Universal (Guarantees reduce Dead-weight Losses)

Here’s Quiggin:

The big question is whether current workers will respond by leaving the workforce and relying on the basic income. We’d expect and want this to happen to some extent – the whole idea is to free workers from absolute dependence on wage income. But if the shift is too large, the tax burden will become unsustainable.

How large is too large? Suppose the employment rate falls from 60 per cent to 50 per cent, and that capital income falls in line with labor income, so that a larger benefit cost is being supported by a smaller income.

The basic income guarantee solves a problem that Quiggin seems to think it creates: various parts of the government actively discourage remunerative work by creating a “poverty trap” consisting of various means-tested programs that are necessary for survival but are lost as incomes increase. Many of the poor literally can’t afford to work: they’re exiled from the (remunerative) labor pool. That’s a powerful coercive effect that more than trumps the lessened interest in employment felt by middle-class workers who conclude they have enough. This will also be a problem with a negative income tax, which is why a universal guaranteee is actually more efficient.

All of the experiments designed to test the employment effect found that work effort increased under a BIG: in Namibia, workforce participation rose from 44% to 55%! The poor can work for each other if they become the middle class. In Manitoba, hours worked by new mothers and teenagers decreased, but only because the teenagers focused on education and the new mothers on child-rearing. In that sense, remunerative work declined slightly, but productive work effort increased: this isn’t about a “right to surf.” Each marginal dollar earned still increases a poor family’s well-being, but now they can afford to make longer-term decisions by investing in human capital.

Note: the US experiments with negative income tax do show a 13% decrease in hours worked for wages, but similar increases in educational effort to Manitoba’s Mincome, and didn’t test overall employment effects from new labor market entrants because the unit of experimentation was the household. This is a famous moment in social scientific research, when we noticed that the “unit of analysis” matters.

Populations with a basic income guarantee work more, not less!

Tax Consumption, Not Income (If you want more of it, why tax it?)

Quiggin worries that marginal income tax rates needed to fund a basic income proposal might become unsustainable:

Depending on the design of the tax scales and the mix between income and other taxes, the marginal rate for the average worker would probably be around 40 per cent, and with a moderately progressive tax scale, lots of workers would be paying marginal rates above 50 per cent.

For a lot of people, the 50% marginal tax rate mark has psychological significance, since it seems like you’re working for more for the government than for yourself. But that’s precisely why we should focus our taxing attentions on consumption, a belief shared by the majority of economists on both the left and right.

A Basic Income Guarantee causes some to receive payments who don’t actually “need” it. But that’s not such a problem if we fund the basic income with a sales tax or value added tax. (A value-added tax, or VAT, is like a sales tax that is collected all along the supply chain rather than only at the point of sale: it’s cheaper to administer and harder to cheat than a sales tax.) That way, we can recapture the basic income grant paid to the very rich, who will spend more of their earned and basic incomes on consumption and thus repay the basic grant. I’ve written about this before, herehere, and here.

An ideal level for both the VAT and the basic income might be to cause the bottom two quintiles of the population to receive a subsidy paid by the top three quintiles. In the US in 2003, this would have been about $34,738: anyone earning less than this would be subsidized by anyone earning more. Other proposals might aim to redistribute around the median income of $44,000, such that a household earning the median income would receive exactly the same amount in basic income that they pay out in VAT (if they spent every penny they earned.) Since the basic income is designed to supply the poorest with the means of subsistence, the VAT might be as high as 30%: in the median proposal, each household would receive 30% of the median income (about $13,200) as a guaranteed payment, but the median income household would pay out the same amount over the year in sales tax, thus breaking even. This is the best way to widen the tax base while enhancing progressivity.

Transition is as Easy as a Tax Rebate (A BIG can start small!)

Quiggin claims that that the BIG+VAT would require a “big bang” rather than a slow transition:

The simplest way to get to a universal basic income would be to pay it to everyone, then recoup the cost, through the tax system, from everyone above the basic level. While conceptually simple, this way of doing things would be almost impossible to implement except as a ‘big bang’, and is also too hard for me to evaluate.

Along with Chris Bertram, Quiggin has been saying that the path to a BIG is totally unimaginable:

So, any serious approach must, as Chris suggests involve transferring a large proportion of existing wealth from its private owners to the public. Leaving aside questions of justice, I can’t see an obvious transition path here. The problem, as illustrated by the existing wealth-based funds, is that it takes a lot of capital to generate a return that would finance a UBI at or above the poverty line. In the US context, you’d need something much larger than the Social Security Trust Fund (2.7 trillion) to get near the target. On the other hand, it’s hard to see how a universal payment at a level far below the poverty line could mobilise the kind of popular support needed for a policy of radical redistribution.

Hardly! You can start with a partial BIG+VAT and grow it over time. The current proposals for a carbon tax or a national sales tax would both suffice. Make these important Pigovian taxes palatable by giving them back to the people using classic Republican tax rhetoric. Just don’t give them back in the same distributional pattern as they were collected: take a 5% tax on all carbon emissions, and use the revenue to pay every American a small annual income. Call it a “rebate.” A partial BIG wouldn’t replace the current welfare state, but it could help ween us off means-testing, reduce the size of the poverty trap, and help us iron out the kinks in this plan while supplying lots more evidence for pundits, wonks, and social scientists to study.

Take your time, the poor will still be here: we can do 5% now, and another 5% in a decade.

As it grows, the BIG can replace the expensive or particularly paternalistic parts of the welfare state, things like Social Security (which isn’t actually egalitarian) and food stamps. The BIG is tailor-made for these kinds of gradual tradeoffs; it enlists the middle-class in poverty-alleviation. Just think of all the ways in which conservative economists and progressive activists can ally to accomplish economically efficient policy changes: a minimum wage becomes a clear obstacle to employment (with no distributional upside) if everyone has a BIG, and that means even greater workforce participation, as would decreased unemployment insurance, which current employers must factor in to the cost of hiring decisions.

What’s more, we needn’t transfer any wealth at all! For a consumption tax, the current economy is all we need to get started: the household part of the US economy is worth $57 trillion or so. We only need to redirect the income stream from that enormous wealth. If a rich person lives as frugally as Warren Buffet, she won’t pay much in consumption taxes, but that’s okay. We don’t want to discourage investment and productivity increases! We want more of that, not less. We want less conspicuous consumption, right? We want less class difference! You may think that this requires wealth redistribution, but even the Scandinavian social democracies actually have quite large wealth inequality. What matters most is how people live.

Consider the Bathroom Break (Workplace Domination Part Three)

The virtue of the Crooked Timber bloggers’ objections to the Bleeding Heart Libertarians’ line is that it implicitly suggests the difference between liberal and republican conceptions of freedom. Libertarians have usually substituted theories of interference and coercion for a full-blown theory of domination. When Chris Bertram stopped by, he suggested that they wanted to avoid this theoretical debate, but I think it impoverishes the conversation a bit. I’ve written about this at length in the past, but for the purposes of navigating the Bleeding Hearts/Crooked Timber debates on workplace domination, here’s a quick primer on interference, coercion, and domination.

In the comments to my first post, Daniel Levine asked:

“Why, exactly, do you need the distinction between actual productivity-enhancing rules and dominating ones? If your target is domination, it doesn’t seem to matter if the domination enhances productivity, for two reasons.

1. Productivity is, at best, an indirect good for most workers (it may be more directly beneficial for academic workers, since we tend to be abnormally non-alienated from our work).

2. The fact that domination is “good for me” in terms of some of my interests does not generally make it any less domination or much less morally problematic. Part of the core insight, I think, of Pettit, is that domination is about whether my situation is responsive to my own agency and conception of my good, not just whether it maximizes my own interests.”

There’s a debate in the literature about this: one way of defining domination is as arbitrary interference. Arbitrariness generally means “choosing or not choosing at pleasure,” and this is the sense that I believe is correct. Philip Pettit has offered a defense of a stricter, more substantive sense of arbitrariness as “failure to track people’s interests according to their ideas,” but I think this is unworkable at the level of the firm. Certainly, in society as a whole we must avoid arbitrary interference with a person that is not in keeping with their conception of the good, but at the level of the firm it is appropriate to require that all workers set aside their conflicting conceptions of the good and join, for at least as long as they are on shift, with other workers whose efforts are bent toward a common good envisioned by the firm. I would argue that we should also set aside (or translate) our individualistic conceptions of the good when we enter the public sphere and act as citizens, but this is a long debate that is far afield.

Consider the bathroom break: on my view, an “arbitrary” interference would involve some non-principled way of awarding bathroom breaks, like the sweatshop practice of asking permission from pit bosses, who can play favorites or simply deny all requests. In such contexts, it is very demeaning to be denied the right to engage in basic bodily functions. You’ve got to pee when you’ve got to pee.

Yet things are a bit different on an assembly line, where if one person leaves the whole line has to stop. In general, the most non-arbitrary way to deal with this is to have a few extra relief workers available to swap places so that a worker with an urgent need can quickly head to the bathroom. A factory with such a system is simply more productive than one without it, but if everyone needs a break at once, someone may have to wait: this is not domination.

There are definitely domination violations in the sanitation arena, and these are policed by OSHA, which has pretty specific rules about bathrooms and sanitation. Yet they have never enforced a quantitative standard (i.e. four breaks per shift, at least one relief worker per twenty employees) because different industries and different people have different needs.

Instead, OSHA have chosen the famously legalistic “reasonableness” standard. And they actually cite and levy fines very infrequently, either because infractions are few and far between or because their enforcement is quite lax. Evidence suggests that former, but so does basic economics: this kind of domination is simply not productivity-enhancing.

Of course, even bathroom breaks are not always a matter of dignity: a traditional assembly line worker dealing with intestinal issues is going to seriously hamper the functioning of that assembly line, so it’s better for the company to let that worker call in sick (for pay, to avoid people showing up when they shouldn’t) and have replacements available. By way of analogy, consider that long haul buses don’t usually have bathrooms on them, so you have to wait until the next stop, which may be a few hours away. You’re not being “dominated” in that sense, it’s just that onboard bathrooms are too expensive. This may not correspond directly to a persons’ “interests according to their ideas.” Somebody with a chronic condition (IBS, say) might object that this prevents them from taking certain kinds of jobs. The ADA standard of “reasonable accommodation” seems pretty appropriate here: it’s a vague principle, but in practice and through judicial and agency interpretations it gets fleshed out in a pragmatic way that is aligned towards overall productivity.

Despite this slight departure, Pettit and I agree that “constitutional provision” is generally superior to “reciprocal power,” and indeed the Crooked Timber bloggers depend on this to be the case to defend voice over exit. The easiest way to enact “reciprocal power” is grant both worker and manager equal power to destroy the bond that joins them: managers command, but workers can quit. Thus, the manager can arbitrarily interfere with the worker, but the worker can do likewise by leaving, forcing the employer to search for new employees. No one enforces a “you can’t quit because your manager won’t sleep with you” rule, so (if the power is truly reciprocal) no one would need to enforce a “you can’t fire him because your worker won’t sleep with you” rule.

Of course, the power relations between workers and employers aren’t generally reciprocal! But this is not to say that they never are or cannot be: some high skill, high demand workers can negotiate these issues without help. It’s even possible to imagine some employees who have more power than their employers: consider doctors and lawyers, for instance, who we rarely speak of as “dominated” by their patients and clients.

What makes those professions powerful enough to escape arbitrary interference? One word: exit. Though the Crooked Timber bloggers contest this, I believe that generous unemployment benefits or a basic income guarantee are adequate to supply a kind of reciprocity. Part of this is tied to the “full employment” question: if there is a reserve army of unemployed than the protesting worker does not really have reciprocal power. BUT! The basic income guarantee militates in favor of full employment, which the CT bloggers gloss over in their analysis.

But that doesn’t mean that exit is sufficient. A firm made non-dominating merely by exit options and reciprocal power is one where only constant vigilance and threats deter resurgence of domination. In that sense, this would be a civil “war of all-against-all,” a Rawlsian modus vivendi. Both firms and employees should want more than that, and not just because of domination concerns.

The imposition of procedural rationality in the workplace limits both employer and employee arbitrariness in a way that benefits both. The principled restriction is that both are motivated by the same goal, of engaging in productive work. Most arbitrary interference is at odds with this goal. This is akin to “constitutional provision.”

What I mean by “constitutional provision” is a set of procedures for preventing arbitrary domination rather than for redressing it after the fact. (Rights not revenge.) In the political setting where a constitution limits the activities of the executive and legislative branches, we can say that the legislature is less free to make certain arbitrary interventions into the lives of its citizens. In the same way, constitutional provision in the workplace limits the range of restrictions that employers can place on employees.

Firms are an important part of the republic, and a republic that focuses on non-domination is going to want to prevent domination within the firm. One way to achieve this goal is to couple restrictions on the scope of arbitrary interference within the firm with adequate exit options. But none of this will grant “voice” alone. OSHA doesn’t give an employee “voice,” it gives employees recourse and an opportunity for reprisal after domination has taken place.

Let’s consider two paradigm cases of voice: an employee identifies favoritism, productivity-reducing arbitrary interference from a manager, and then brings attention to the manager’s superiors. This kind of voice benefits both the firm and the employee, but it requires that the employer create a protected channel of communication. If the only person the effected employees can complain to is the manager engaging in favoritism, the employees will be silenced by fear of reprisals. In this case, voice is aligned with the principle of productive collaboration rather than domination, and arbitrary interference results in lost productivity.

Now consider a productivity-reducing use of voice: employees protest automation because fewer workers will be needed to supply the same product. (I’ve recently been having this conversation with fellow academics about Coursera.) In aggregate, the world is better off if the same product (a car or an education) can be produced more cheaply. It doesn’t matter if the mission of a firm is to make widgets or mold young minds: ifa better technique comes along that uses fewer workers, than those workers can do something else. (Belief to the contrary is known as the “lump of labor” fallacy, but in any case these concerns are dispatched by the Basic Income Guarantee and full employment.) An effective exercise of employees’ voice in such a context would make the commonwealth poorer in order to serve the advantage of a few. Employees can certainly exercises voice in such circumstances, but the outcome of that exercise should be in favor of productivity gains. A firm that makes automation decisions does not dominate its employees, because the decision is guided by the principle of productivity, any more than an employee with a better job offer dominates his employer.

The CT bloggers argue that unions are a necessary component of such exercises of voice. Certainly one way to create a protected channel of communication is through a union representative or employee inclusion program. But this is not a necessary consequence of unions, and in fact union members are less likely to report that they have a meaningful role in decision-making than non-union members.

Of course, unions can enable voice: contract negotiations can become a space where labor and capital constructively engage with each other regarding all aspects of the firm. It’s just that they don’t tend to do that; large union bureaucracies don’t guarantee workplace democracy. They can supply other goods, like solidarity, opportunities for civic engagement, and protection from exploitation in our actually existing world of injustice. But in this sense they serve the “reciprocal power” goal by allowing periodic renegotiation and protection from reprisal. Yet a firm that is restricted by full employment considerations in the labor market and that enacts its own procedural approach to personnel matters will be able to prevent many forms of non-productive arbitrary interference with employees without a union.

Meanwhile, unions do enable one obvious form of interference: they enable the majority of workers in a shop to dictate working conditions and extract dues from the minority of workers. Even though closed shops are unconstitutional, agency shops that require non-union members to work under the collectively bargained contract and to pay dues for that privilege, which dues can then be spent on lobbying and advertising that does not conform to the some members of the minority’s “interests according to their own ideas.”

Is this domination? On my view, it is not, because it fails to be arbitrary: so long as the union does in fact work in a principled (non-arbitrary) way to advance the actual interests of the employee. But of course, there is no guarantee that this will take place. There is even risk of the arbitrary interference being reversed, and a particularly powerful union making unreasonable demands on a firm! Arguably, the public unions that have survived our long period of anti-union sentiment do just that, only the “firm” in this case is the republic itself: just remember that the only union that Scott Walker didn’t attack was the Wisconsin Professional Police Association, for whom citizens’ rights are simply “conditions of employment.”

Academically Adrift: How a First-Year Seminar Can Get the Academy Back on Course

What follows is a proposal I’ve been working on to convince my university to switch from its General Education requirements to a first-year seminary, given the data in Academically Adrift.

Executive Summary

The best research available suggests that courses with demanding reading and writing requirements are the only way to teach the core competencies required for collegiate learning. Because prerequisite skills must be taught at the start of a students’ undergraduate career, Morgan State should offer all students a two-semester course in these skills in their first year. Because such a course requires small class sizes to be effective, it must recruit professors from across the disciplines. This approach balances a common curriculum with interdisciplinary variety, and allows professors to model engaged learning rather than the passive consumption of knowledge. Continue reading Academically Adrift: How a First-Year Seminar Can Get the Academy Back on Course