The Future of the Humanities, or why there is none is not really a good answer Stanley Fish

I just finished reading Stanley Fish's latest admonition in the Chronicle of Higher Education: "Stop Trying to Sell the Humanities, Arguments that they're useful are wrong, anti-humanistic, and sure to backfire." A friend sent it to me, not because he liked it but because we were exchanging links about the humanities and post-secondary education. Fish has always been a bit of an odd analytic bird but this piece is so far over the top that it goes no where. In it, Fish attempts to refute all current arguments about the practical utility of the humanities, singling out the digital humanities for special condemnation. He recognizes that the humanities are in the midst of something some people are calling a crisis and also that his own arguments against the humanities' usefulness leave it no place to stand. In fact, if the humanities were on trial, Fish, one of its better-known authorities, recognizes that he has just written a brief for the prosecution. Other than forcing students to take humanities courses, he writes, something that he implies will not go over well, he "can't think of a plan that would return the humanities to the prominence they once enjoyed. If my fellow humanists can come up with something, they should speak now, or they may be forever holding their peace whether they want to or not. If things proceed as they have been, in the end we'll all go the way of Stevens Point," where the humanities have been, more or less, axed.

This is an odd conclusion for someone to reach after they have concluded that they reject every argument that has been made in support of the humanities and the very oddness of it captures something of the dilemma in which the humanities now find themselves.  What is clear is that Fish thinks "selling" the humanities is just plain bad and that they need to be accepted on their own terms or, in his view, not at all. He has, in this sense, issued this statement: my way or the highway. I find it odd that he is surprised that some people have said "OK,  the highway" and quietly shown him the way to the road and helped hike his thumb in the air. Fish's answer -- that any concession to practicality compromises the fundamental and foundational principles of the humanities - is, in fact, wrong. There is, to be sure, something unseemly about grubbing for money, but explaining to people who fund universities (whether the state, private donors, or students through their tuition) why the humanities are good, and good for you, and can even help you get a job, is not a bad thing. And, to think that it is, is the worst type of ivory tower isolationism. It is, in fact, the definition of ivory tower, in its negative sense. It artificially limits a discussion of the humanities and post-secondary education, creating a binary opposition (this way or not at all), when it would be far more useful to wider ranging discussion.

Let me explain and offer part of a defence of the humanities, or at least part one of a defence. I'll leave the issue of the digital humanities off to another post since it seems to require a special topic.

First, Fish doesn't just set a high bar for the humanities in post-secondary education. He sets a near impossible one: "The question then is to what internal purpose should a university be true, a question that requires us to identify the university's core activity. Aristotle named it in the 10th book of his Nicomachean Ethics. It is contemplation. 'This activity would seem to be loved for its own sake; for nothing arises from it apart from the contemplating,' as opposed to 'practical activities' which are measured by their effects. Contemplation -- turning matters over and then turning them over again -- is 'superior in serious worth' because 'it aim[s] at no end beyond itself, and [has] a pleasure proper to itself.'"

You can see the problem immediately. Fish spends the rest of his editorial explaining why practical arguments in favour of the humanities don't work but he has, in fact, already cut the ground out from underneath practicality at the very beginning of his discussion. In fact, he could have ended his discussion at this point and we would have been none the worse for it because this captures the substance of his critique.

Yet, who is Fish to set this bar?  Does he actually think Aristotle was talking about the modern multiversity or even the modern liberal arts college? A reference to Aristotle is no guarantee that one is right and surely to contend that the joy of contemplation is the only acceptable argument one can make in defence of the humanities is to cut off debate precisely at the point that we should be having a debate. It is even odder noting the context in which Fish is writing. As countries build walls, engage in twitter diplomacy, treat "alternative facts" as if they were real, etc., surely arguing that anything but a self-absorbed contemplation is a not the provenance of the humanities seems a bit ... well ... not humanistic at all.  In fact, it seems a bit hedonistic.

I'm not saying that contemplation is bad or that contemplation by itself is hedonistic. What I am saying is that the idea that the humanities and the university have only one legitimate activity is (a) wrong, (b) disengaged from the problems of the world around us, and (c) anti-democratic because it limits debate shrinking the voices that can be heard as part of a conversation about post-secondary education.

In place of Fish's assertion that there is only one legitimate activity for the university and for the humanities, I would argue that there are, in fact, many. Historians, for instance, don't write about the rise of fascism purely for the joy of contemplating the rise of fascism. They write as part of an engaged effort to understand the character and dynamics of the past that led to genocide and war. OK, that is one example, someone might say, and an easy one. What others might you have? We study policy history to understand the character and operation of the state, how good ideas became bad policies, or the diverse ways in which public policy is made. We study the growth of the women's moment, as an example, to see how processes of democratization enriched society (and why some people resisted democratization). The TRC recommended the study of Indigenous history because they believed, and I think rightly, that the more Canadians know about First Peoples, the greater the chances for meaningful reconciliation are. We teach Indigenous novels, philosophers, poetry, for precisely these same reasons as well.

Ah, someone might say, those are all basically historical examples. What about other branches of the humanities? Well, yes, they are but  ... actually so were Fish's and so I chose to counter him on that ground. But, OK, let's broaden the framework of analysis. Do students study the languages just for the joy of contemplation or to communicate? Do they study musicology for themselves or is it also placed in the service of performance? Are ethics or -- in this day and age of LGBTQi+ issues -- the philosophy of the subject irrelevant? Do our courts, for example, make decisions with no regard for ethical considerations? Does the law, in other words, ignore ethics?

Here is my point, the university -- and the humanities -- have no one single core activity. I may have some I like more than others. I may have some I am more adept at than others but the fact that one brings concerns and desires other than pure contemplation to the table in one's teaching or learning or research or the diffusion of knowledge does not mean that one is abandoning the humanities. The opposite: one is illustrating their importance by saying that we believe a knowledge of history, philosophy, language, culture, etc., can help us make better decisions as a society, enhance the meaningfulness and beauty of artistic expression, reach decisions that are more fair.  The implications of Fish's argument is that we should surrender this ground because it is a subversion on our true purpose. I will confess, I am not so sure. I might feel that the exact opposite is true.

Second, Fish is quick to dismiss other practical activities that are part of a good education in the humanities: writing (or, communication) and analysis. These are part of what he says is a "skills"-oriented justification for the humanities that is connected to market value, something he rejects. He accepts the idea that students in the humanities gain important skills, but calls the entire effort to explain these a PR "gambit" that is not "a serious effort at justification." Why? because the issue for the humanities, he says, is not about writing or analysis but writing about specific things (say, restoration poetry) and the same for analysis. Hence, the argument is, in his word, "strained." Even more troubling for Fish, this argument is part of a series of arguments that rest on exterior evaluation: they defend the humanities not on their own terms but by accepting someone else's logic and terms.

Hmmm ... I don't necessarily see why good communication and analysis is not part of the humanities' own terms. I've already said that I find Fish's singular justification so narrow that it verges on anti-democratic and ignores or misplaces the idea that there can be more than one legitimate reason to engage the humanities. Likewise, I think there can be a range of different subjects that interest students. Some will study restoration poetry; others the contemporary museum; others Indigenous literature, etc. But, good analysis and communications skills are not incidental to any of these subjects. Moreover, their sheer diversity and breadth require specific skills. For instance, they require that we be attuned to someone else's voice. Think about what they are trying to express or communicate, figure out how we can convey our thoughts effectively so that someone else will understand them, make one's case in a logical way, communicate to an audience that will not necessarily share one's perspective, and ... I could go on but you see the point. Communication, analysis, understanding context, logic of argument, etc., are not incidental the humanities. They are part and parcel of it. The fact that they also have a market logic -- that people in the labour market are interested in hiring people with these skills -- should not put us off.

In fact, I would go much further than Fish seems willing to go and argue that it is these very things that make Fish's conception of contemplation for its own sake possible. Even if one were only engaged in a self-oriented contemplative activity, would that be possible without understanding context? or without logic, or without attention to the voice of the other? I'd argue that without these things contemplation would, in fact, not really be contemplation but merely hazy passing thoughts that lacked form and rigour.

My point here, I want to say, is not really to go point-for-point against Fish. I am interested in his argument against the usefulness of the humanities in order make the argument that the humanities are useful, that they have more than one purpose, that there is nothing wrong with explaining their uses to prospective students or donors or the state, and that things that he dismisses (skills) are actually, in fact, preconditions of the very justification he seeks to maintain for the humanities.

I've run long and there is more to say but, for now, we can conclude on this point: the humanities may or may not be in crisis. I'd need to think about what that actually means before quickly accepting current discourses. What I would say, however, is that Fish illustrates a process by which the humanities become, in fact, their own worst enemy. By using surprisingly narrow definitions of what the humanities are, ignoring the multiple reasons people study and learn the humanities, rejecting out of hand practical uses (which exist in policy fields, communications, performance, etc.) as somehow market tainted and hence debased, proponents of the humanities -- such as Fish -- argue themselves into a corner. They make the argument for those who would cut the humanities and end up, interestingly, begging for someone to make a better argument. In the process, they ignore the very skills on which the humanities rely -- even on their own definition of them.

Tenure Blues ... The Merits of Lecturing

In my last blog post, I tried to explain that lecturing is the font of much misunderstanding. Sure, some of it is really boring, but the fact that someone is in front of a lecture hall for an hour or an hour and a half does not mean that that is all there is to putting together a lecture. Moreover, I tried to argue that today's lectures are really quite different than the lectures many of us received when we were undergraduates a generation ago. They are complicated educational engagement that take a great deal of time to put together. There is no "teacher's text" book, out of which we crib notes (at least in the humanities and social sciences). My comments were in response to a comment made by Richard Gwyn to the effect that watching a video is more useful than lecturing.

Let us allow that I am right (not a big leap of faith for me but perhaps one you don't want to make so ... bear with me). Let's allow that the point I made in the previous blog are, more or less, accurate:

• Lectures are conceptualized as one part of an educational process that includes a range of media, discussion, student input, etc.
• That good lectures are time consuming to put together 
• That faculty would likely lecture even less if more resources were available to have smaller classes

I don't see these as radical perspectives, but you can check them out for yourself if you doubt me.  This said, these points do not exhaust what should be said about lectures. I have a number of other points to make, which I will try to keep briefer than my previous blogs relating to lecturing. These other points, I hope, go to the heart of any discussion of lecturing. 

1. Is everyone a good lecturer? Clearly, no. Some of my colleagues (as I said in my previous blog) seem superlative. Others are not. Much of that can be chocked up to personality, as opposed to preparation. Some people are just livelier in front of a room than others. Some subjects admit of a more lively presentation than others, as well. This goes, I will take it for granted, for any particular job. I am certain that there are more entertaining lecturers than I. But, that misses the point: should everything we do in the classroom be entertaining? Should the liveliest lecturer be considered the best?  Should we even compare education to watching videos? I watch videos periodically. I like youtube and watch Jon Stewart "best of" clips. Should we compare that ... to education? Would Stewart compare that to education? 

I think one of the problems with talking about the value of lecturing and comparing it to videos (even instructional videos) is that we run the risk of a false comparison. Sometimes, learning things is less than exciting. There, I said it. Some of my less lively lectures to my intro class involve matters that are remarkably important, say constitutionally guaranteed rights. This is tricky legalistic stuff. To understand it as something more than a sound bit ("I support the Charter!") can require care and deliberation. There are lectures that I give on other subject that are, frankly, far more entertaining or even far more user friendly, but this subject deserves a serious treatment in a way that allows student to fully engage the subject. It moves slow and, in my view, rightly so. There issue of whether or not someone is a good lecturer or not might be more complicated. I don't stack up well compared to a video (it can have high production values, a team of researchers, great camera work, interviews -- tracked down by the team of researchers or agreed to by public figures because of potential audience size -- and other "hooks."). But, is that the test of a good lecture? Moreover, as I said in my last blog, the specific lecture in question is, for the faculty member, never the last word on the subject. We design assignments for students to articulate their own views, have follow up or preliminary readings, discussion groups, etc. I am not at all convinced that we should castigate supposedly boring lectures simply because they appear to be boring because education is just not as much fun as comedy. But that is not the test. If it were ... well ... we would turn out post-secondary education systems over to Dane Cook. And, lest my point be lost, the lecture itself is just one part of an engagement with a subject and so comparing my lecture on the Charter to Cook's "atheist sneeze" (if you have not seen it, it is really funny, look it up) is comparing apples and oranges and we are sending the wrong message. Sometimes learning takes time and energy and is less exciting than the things we do for our past times. Does that make it not worthwhile?

2. Why lecture? If there are other options available ... why give lectures? First, because other options are not always available, at least in the form of videos. We would want our post-secondary educational system bound, as it were, to youtube? Videos, to be sure, can be very helpful as part of an overall educational programme. No one is shooting them down or saying "don't use them." But, if one were to just use videos ... would that not make educational a prisoner to what videos existed? What if the video that does exist is out of date? Or, what if is it is wrong? I actually liked the old The Valour and the Horror videos about World War II, but are they all there is about World War II?

I lecture for a number of reasons but one of the reasons that I do lecture is that I can convey information effectively. Among the things that I tell my students is this: you can get the information I obtained to give this lecture; you can read the books I have read. Over the years, I've read ... dozens of books on the Charter and rights, court cases, scholarly articles, public opinion polls, newspaper articles, watched dozens and dozens of interviews ... in addition to the constitution. And my students could replicate this work; there is no doubt about it. But, why should they? If they find the subject important, they can and should research it themselves and, perhaps, write a paper on it. They can and should build up their own expertise and I say this as well. But, for the students who are really being introduced to the subject for what is really the first time ... I can save them a lot of time. I can synthesize all the different sources of information for them, explain the history, draw in comparative perspectives, indicate areas where lawyers or scholars or politicians disagree; flag the key arguments, clear away myths, etc. In other words, my lecture can save them a lot of time. That being the case ... why not make use of it?

What is more, I can use the lecture to set our discussion of the Charter in a broader framework. I can refer back to subject we have already discussed (say, national identity) and forward to subjects we will address (say, diversity issues). In addition to saving the students a bunch of time, I can also contextual information for them and show who it is connected to other aspects of Canada. A lecture, in other words, as one part of a multifaceted educational engagement can be a very effective way to bring students up to speed on important issues relating to their subject matter, while providing background information, facts, and context.

3. A lecture can do something else as well. It can provide students with a model of argumentation that they themselves can use to (a) develop their own ideas or (b) contest the ideas that I am setting before them. In other words, one can use a lecture to show students what a good argument entails. Lectures convey information but, as anyone who has attended a lecture recently knows, they do more than that. They engage important issues and suggest ways of addressing problems. For instance, imagine we were talking about the "democratic deficit." My lecture might provide important information for students -- trajectories of voting, party memberships, key attitudes toward democracy on the part of Canada, the institutional matrix that supposedly realizes democracy in Canada, etc. -- but I will try to include a specific argument in that information. My argument might address this question: why are Canadians opting out of voting? In mobilizing history, polling data, discussions of institutions, etc., I strive to answer that question. Ultimately, I might be wrong but what I am trying to show students is how one puts together a good argument that addressing this issue. In Canadian Studies we, then, take this a step further (not everyone does; it depends on  the discipline). We ask: what can be done. By showing the constituents of a good argument and the moving to another forum (say, class discussion or brainstorming) we can start to apply the same model of good argument to discard weak argument, understand complexity, and -- ideally -- the students will arrive at both a better understanding (something more than, say, youth don't vote) and a potentially better solution.

4. Do students like lectures? The assumption behind Gwyn's comments is that they really don't. But is that the case? I can understand why some people don't like lectures. They are not for everyone. Different people do learn in different ways (some people learn very well independently and like correspondence courses because of that. I don't. It is just a matter of personality and skills). My general sense is that as students go along in their education, they like lectures less and less and rightly so. Having mastered the background information (or, know how to get the background information), they are now looking for ways to articulate their own views (this is why we move from lecture/discussion to seminar courses).

But, not all students dislike lectures. A number of years ago, I raised the idea of video-taking my lectures for a class and then posting the videos on the web (this was one of the academic issues I periodically raise  with classes to get student views). What surprised me was the general rejection of the idea. There were a bunch of reasons students rejected this idea and it still would have been a lecture through a different medium. What surprised me was that students had a lot of good things to say about lectures. Some might have been patting me on the back to win brownie points but I doubt it, and if you knew our students, you would doubt it too. What they liked, they said, was the ability to get information in a concise way and that a video did not "do it" for them the way a live person did. They also said that they liked the ability to stop a lecture by asking a question for clarification or interrupting the lecture before it got going to ask for further information on something I had said in a previous lecture. A live human being and interaction, in other words, were, for them, important components of a lecture.

Each year I lecture to a large intro class. This class has students in it who will major or minor in Canadian Studies but it also has students in it to take electives or distribution credits. When I ask them about lecturing, I get an interesting response. Since this is not their major or minor, they tell me, they are quite content to let me do the work (that is, lecture). They learn from it (or, don't, as they want). But, they tell me, they have more than enough work to do in their other classes and are looking for a way to approach a subject that interests them (which is why they take my course as opposed to someone else's), but in a way that allows them to keep their focus on their major. Lectures, they tell me, do this form them more than, say, a discussion-based format.

This jives with my own experience in discussion-based educational fora. In my intro course, as I've noted, we have both a lecture and a discussion component. As instructors, we are frequently told that students want to articulate their own views. I can understand that. It also important for education and self development. But, what I have also noticed is that not all students want to articulate their own views on all subjects. In other words, when provided with a discussion format, some students opt-in and participate; others opt-out and sit their quietly.

Let me summarize. No one is arguing that lectures are the be-all-and-end-all of education. They are part of a multifaceted approach to learning geared to adults that extends over a number of different courses and over a number of years. Lectures are one part of that process. To argue otherwise is to demonstrate a lack of knowledge of that process. There are good reasons for including lectures in that process. They concisely convey important information, model argumentation for students, and are appreciated -- indeed liked and favoured -- by some students. Education is not a "one size fits all." What is more, to easily reject lectures, or compare them to videos, is to make a false comparison. Sure, a lecture is not as entertaining as a video but is this the message we want to send our students: do it only if it entertains you? 

Privatization

There has been a bit of talk lately about privatization: health care, aspects of post-secondary education. It is worth considering what privatization means, who promotes it, why, and what will likely happen before any decisions are made in this regard. I don't think the issue "privatization" is at all an academic debate. Nor do I think it is about "the best way to deliver services" or "saving money" or "efficiency." I think the whole privatization debate is about the type of country we have. Does that sound a little to grandiose? Does it sound like I am upping the stakes? Many of the proponents of privatization would, in fact, say so. They would say that they are talking about modes of delivery and saving money and not fundamental values. I think they are deluded (in a literal sense of the word). Privatlization ultimately is about values and that is what I want to demonstrate in this blog. In other words, it is not a small issue but a big issue, a issue about our values as society and how we want to organize that society. It is on this ground that I think the little bit of talk, of late, about privatization in health care and education merits attention.



You will notice, btw, that I have not yet said whether I am for or against privatization. In my view, this is, in fact, the first problem with public discourse on privatization. People stake out their ground in advance and then don't move from it. In place of discussion and analysis that might lead to policy conclusions, we get ideology in which the specifics of any given situation are lost amidst a haze of generalization. In other words, when the discussion turns to privatization of education or health, we rarely end up with a discussion of the specific institution or situation: "how will this work in Sackville NB?" Instead, we get odes to the wonders of private enterprise or aspersions cast at the American health-care system. Whatever merit such generalizations may have in terms of argument, they actually don't help us make a decision about the specific situation at hand. In this regard, I think it is at best premature to come out for or against privatization before one has worked through the arguments. Moreover, precisely because this issue is important -- because it will affect Canada and will affect real people's lives -- I think we need to be guided by evidence, not general views. In other words, decisions about privatization need to be made in the cold light of logic with a consideration of evidence; not in the head of ideological conflict.



With this in mind, I can't really talk about health care. I don't know that industry and can't bring anything dramatically new to the discussion, at least until I have done my homework. With this in mind, then, I'll turn to my industry: education. Periodically we hear people talking about the need for a private university in Canada. The implication here is that the university would surrender its government grant and turn to the market to make a go of it. The proponents of privatization suggest that there is nothing to fear in this and much to gain. It would be a more efficient allocation of resources; it will unlease an entrepreneurial spirit on campus; students will pay for what they get; the university will not be held back by the state, and on down the line. In other words, privatization will bring many benefits and few drawbacks. With the dramatic curtailing of government support for post-secondary education over the last fifteen years, these arguments come more and more to the fore. As the government pays less of the tab of public education, state support for education seems less relevant. Is this so? There are a number of points to consider.



First, revenue: the government does not pay as much of the university tab as it used to but it still pays a lot. At my institution, by a conservative estimate, government grants count for something like 35% of the budget, or somewhere around $17.5 million. Now, we need to think about what privatization might mean. One thing it would mean is that my institution would need to find another $17.5 million each year. Tuition would have to increase, to be sure. One could argue that it should because that is the way the mrket works. The taxpayer should not subsidize someone else's education. But, we are talking about a big increase here. Again, I want to be conservative (in other words, my aim is to present a reasonable scenario; not a worst case scenario). The average jump in tuition if we divided the revenue shortfall by total current student body would amount to something like $8 500, but let's round down just to be reasonable and allow for some cost savings. Let's say $8 000. What this means is that tuition at Mount Allison (where I would would go up by $8 000/year would would make it somewhere between $14 000 and $15 000 total, excluding residence, meal service, books, other fees, etc.



What we need to bear in mind with this is product substitution. The problem Mount A would encounter is that other institutions would not privatize. In fact, if Mount A withdrew from state support, there would in fact be more money for other institutions in NB. They'd get our chunk of government support. The likely result would be tuition stability at other institutions. Our product is not all that different from other institutions. We're good. I think we are rightly proud of the job we do, but exact how different is on History, English, Biology, etc., degree from another at the undergraduate level. I have friend who teach at other universities and they are good, too. They are rightly proud of the job they do. One question we need to ask before we privatize is this: is our product that much better than other institutions that students (or, their parents) would be willing to pay over twice the tuition of other institutions to attend Mount A. Some would. How many? And, what students? Would really good students be willing to pay over twice as much to attend Mount A? Or, would we get the student who could gain admission no where else and had to pay our tuition out of a lack of other alternatives? What would that do to our standing as an institution?



Second, one could argue that privatizing would unleash some sort of entrepreneurial spirit and allow the University to work in a more efficient way. How? I work at Mount A and I can tell you how hard people work, how inventive they are. What I can say is that there are some bad apples. No one doubts this. But, most people, by and large, are working as hard as they can. Is the university inefficient? Well, I don't know. You'd need to ask the registrar and the VP administration about that. I don't think they would say that they are inefficient. I think the registrar and the VP admin would, in fact, say that their people are working as hard as they can. But, for the sake of argument, let's say they aren't. Let's say the administrative branch is amazingly inefficient. Why do we need to privatize to gain this efficiency? We pay these people a lot of money to do their job. Why should the structure of the company affect whether or not they do their job right? If they aren't doing it right, they should be fired. It is not state support that keeps them in their jobs. From what I can tell the same bureaucracy will be needed regardless of the funding model. Any post-secondary institution will still need secretaries, mail staff, registrars. comptrollers, etc. If there are cost savings to be had, we need to know where those are and how privatization would realize them and whether or not we need to privatize to attain them.



Third, will privatization allow the university to raise more money from the private sector? I don't know but again we need to look at this in a way that is not ideological. Large companies in Canada already donate a lot of money to universities. Will they donate more to a private institution? What will their incentive to do so be? To believe that privatization will bring in more money from corporate donors, one needs to believe that the people who raise money for a university are not doing as good a job as they could be doing. They are missing sources of revenue. Will privatizing suddenly make them better at this? And, what sources of revenue are they missing?



Finally, there are ethical arguments to think about. I've gone on too long already so I'll keep this short. Will raising tuition via privatization ensure that the taxpayer does not pay for someone else's education. Education is a tax deduction so ... it is likely that the taxpayer will pay just by another means. In other words, to ensure that the taxpayer does not pay for someone else, one would need to change the tax system; not the way universities are financed. If the tax system is not changed, increased tuition could be passed along to taxpayers via tax deductions. If one cares about this -- and I think there are good reasons to discuss it -- privatizing the university is the wrong target. Are there other benefits that would foregone if tuition increased? Asked differently, the question is: are there benefits to a better educated society that are difficult to specify in economic terms? There is no easy answer to this but we need to think about education as a form of training for which there are spin-off benefits to industry. What are those benefits? Would industry end up having to pay more for training and up-grading and how would that affect profits? What about equality of opportunity? How would it be affected? What about political knowledge and the ability of people to be thinking citizens? Political scientists tell us that there is a strong correlation between formal education and political involvement. In a day when we are concerned about declining voter rates, is it in society's best interest to price education higher? What about crime rates? How does higher levels of formal education affect crime?



And, we could go on. I've not really spent most of this blog talking about the issue I raised at the start: the values that privatization would signify for Canada. I've raised these only at the end because I think that skill development, equality of opportunity, safety, are values Canadians hold dear. How would privatization affect the realization of our values? Instead, I've focused on the economic issues involved because that is where the debate is most cloudy. I don't provide answer. I am, however, trying to suggest that the issue is more complex. We need to think about things like the efficiency of existing bureaucracies and ways to make them more efficient. We need to think about product substitution and what that could do to enrolment. We need to think about the possibility of being a "last chance u" for people who have no other alternatives. And, we need evidence. I don't believe in change for the sake of change and ideology is misleading. It substitutes what someone happens to believe for analysis. Before we move toward privatization, we need to do that analysis.