Tag Archives: n+1

Schooling Bubble

They say there’s an education bubble. Makes sense.  A bubble is when there’s a pocket of capital concentrated in one place where assets are valued disproportionately to their actual value. When you’re in a bubble you think you’re hot, but you’re not. Everyone thought dotcoms were awesome; but they weren’t. Same with mortgage-backed securities, which were made of CDOs and toxic subprime loans. Like in those cases, at some point your bubble bursts. Like when your friend thinks that she’s all that and a bag of chips, you say something like ‘I hate to burst your bubble, but…’

So the question is: how is there an ‘education bubble’; if so, why? and what will happen if/ when it bursts?

Short answer: there’s no short answer. I have to read more. I’m not prepared to say anything yet. I’ve read a few things so far (Forbes, Economist, Chronicle of Higher Ed, n+1, Education Sector), but I need to keep looking into it. My understanding, at this point, goes like this:

A bubble is when assets are valued disproportionately to their actual value. If there’s an education bubble, it means education is valued disproportionately to its actual value. At this early stage in my thinking I want to add the following idea, which doesn’t seem present in the discourse:

Schooling isn’t education. We entrust our schools (primary, middle, high, higher) to educate children, but what happens in these buildings and institutional settings isn’t necessarily educational. We rely on them to reproduce our social norms and maybe even progress them beyond the status quo. But educational experience itself isn’t subject to economic bubbling. Education–transformative learning experience–will always be valuable.

To the extent that schooling insures the citizenry against low wages, our schools–particularly university schooling, since we don’t guarantee it like we do K-12–are vulnerable to bubbling. That’s what we see happening now: we think schooling will protect us from low wages (or bad household income in general). But we’re wrong.

That’s what’s happening. But it’s not an education bubble. It’s a schooling bubble.

 

If You’re A Hipster And You Know It, Clap Your Hands!

N+1 held launched Mark Greif et al’s “What Was the Hipster? A Sociological Study” this past Friday. Greif, a professor at the New School and N+1 editor, brings the philosophical discourse on hipsters to an academic level in this series of essays and commentaries.

It’s important work. Hipsters, though the butt of many jokes, are the occasion for engagement with our time in history. Though not everyone may have been a hippie, for example, that group is still a locus for important questions that define a historical period. By identifying or not identifying with the group– analyzing the literary, musical, fashion, philosophical, and psychoanalytical  streams present in it–we explore what we are and aren’t members of. It’s a locus, an opportunity, an occasion to explore how we’re participating in history.

Hipsters, for better or worse, are a window to our own moment. Getting clear about what they are will help us get clear about what we are. Greif’s project helps us do this. It covers important ground. But we should go further.

A few weeks ago I wrote my most-read blog post ever, a short essay called “Hipster Defined” where I define hipsters set-theoretically as the group whose members believe they’re not members of any group. This definition entails a formal set-theoretic paradox (what I call the Hipster’s Paradox) since hipsters compose a group, but to be a member of this group one must believe one is not a member of any group whatsoever.

This definition also entails an existential explanation for the term’s pejorative use. Here we are, a group of people trying not to conform but doing so together according to rules we must follow. We’re non-conformists conforming. In that sense the hipster is absurd: there’s a clear reality–that we’re part of a group–but we behave and speak as though we’re not members of any group.

In this way I found Greif’s account histiographically rich but definitionally clunky. His approach doesn’t offer a clear definition. Rather, in line with most of the critical hipster cannon, he provides lists of colorful exemplars alongside a variety of relevant social theories.

In addition to being complex (and possibly ironically self-reflexive) I find this approach politically deflating. It doesn’t offer anything for the future. It doesn’t tell us what to do next, what to make of this hipsterism, how to evolve into something new.

But there is a way to do this. Let’s say we are, in fact, members of a group whose members don’t believe they’re members of any group. If we identify as hipsters, if each of us says “Yes. I am a hipster” then we’ll no longer be absurd. We’d recognize ourselves as being members of a groWe’ll recognize our place in history and achieve a radical authenticity. Our public selves will merge with our private selves and we can just be. We can live in the world, be in it without lies or apathy or disappointment. This would be a psychoanalytic revolution. We’d feel a release. A relief. The heaviness of the hipster would dissolve into self co-incidence and self-centricity.

It doesn’t end there. When I admit I’m the member of a group whose members don’t believe they’re in any group, I’m not part of the group anymore.  I believe I’m the member of a group. The hipster definition is violated. I no longer fit it. I can move on. Once I admit I’m a hipster I’m no longer a hipster. I’m just myself.  And this is a radically human conclusion: I’m a contradiction. I’m part of a group and not part of it. I’m free of society but still bound by it.

At the book release I told Greif about my argument. An extremely warm individual, he laughed and nodded and took it seriously. He said my idea begins where his book ends, that he can’t admit he’s a hipster because he just can’t identify with the group. He said this was a function of his age. He told me that he gave a lecture on hipsters at a university recently and during the question/answer period a young student, obviously a hipster, asked him: “I’m a hipster, what should I do?” Greif said he couldn’t sympathize with her. He told her, “I’m not sure.”

That student had the answer. She admitted she’s a hipster. In that moment of self-awareness she produced the possibility for an answer to her own question. When you admit you’re a hipster you’ll no longer be one and the time for a new moment of authenticity arrives. You’re yourself. You’re free. Celebrate this! If you’re a hipster and you know it, clap your hands!

 

N+1 declares hipsters dead. This fact is proof to the contrary.

N+1 is publishing a sociological investigation of hipsters.  They argue there is no such thing. (Via Huffington Post)

Though I haven’t read it yet, the book is probably proof against itself. The argument that hipsters are dead is evidence that hipsters are alive and well. Since a hipster is a member of a set that believes it’s not a member of any set, s/he will obviously affirm that there is no such thing as a hipster. According to the formula, by definition, if you assert that there’s no such thing a hipster then you’re actually denying that there’s no such thing as a hipster–which means that there is such a thing as a hipster. By extension if you believe hipsters are dead then it’s actually true that hipsters are alive. Further, by extrapolation, the reason you believe that hipsters are dead is probably because you’re actually a member of the group. This is intuitive: only hipsters talk about hipsters. Only people who have disdain for group membership would make such a claim.

The only way to prove that hipsters are dead is to never think or talk about them.  But this is very difficult given the concept’s powerful grasp in contemporary (elite) discourse.

As I argue in ‘Hipster defined’ the only way to negate the hipster-concept is to admit that you are a hipster. Then you achieve authenticity. So long as you fail to accept your hipster-fate along with the rest of us you’ll be going in skinny-jeaned circles, whether you’re wearing a pair or not.