The Truth About Quality Education

          Parts III and IV of Zen continued to keep me guessing, leaving me no idea of what subject would come up next during the westward journey.  I can say the book has forced me to think about things I would never in any other context—which is good—but I’m not yet sure of its value for my post-graduation endeavors.  I guess a lot of what has been brought up in class and in my own responses to the text has forced me to think about what my education has given me over the last seven years, what I have retained, and what I will utilize throughout my eventual career and the rest of my life.  After being a student so long, it is sort of surprising to think it will all come to an end in a mere two months.  That being said, I came across a number of interesting ideas in the last half of Prisig’s psychologically manipulating text.

            The narrator’s explanation of an imitative education was intriguing, though I don’t think I necessarily agree it is representative of the entire institution of academia.  The text reads, “[i]f you don’t imitate what the teacher wants you get a bad grade.  Here, in college, it was more sophisticated, of course; you were supposed to imitate the teacher in such a way as to convince the teacher you were not imitating, but taking the essence of the instruction and going ahead with it on your own” (192-3).  Throughout my college career—and I’m sure this is the same for several of us—I have come in contact with a number of different professors characterized by a wide range teaching styles, student expectations, and even personality types.  We have had to edit our own writing styles to be accepted by these various people, or to prove to at least them that we are good enough writers to make these corrections.  Then, the next semester, we are given a whole new set of instruction—the emphasis seemingly different every time.  Now, is this because there are so many writing styles, a good writer must be able to compile this knowledge, or do some of these variances arise in writing education because there is no one good form of writing?  It is interesting that we have imitated throughout college, but what good has this done us?

            I was curious about the narrator’s take on squareness as an obstruction to quality.  The text reads, “[s]quareness may be succinctly and yet thoroughly defined as an inability to see quality before it’s been intellectually defined, that is, before it gets all chopped up into words. […] Its existence can be seen empirically in the classroom, and can be demonstrated logically by showing that a world without it cannot exist as we know it” (218-9).  So intellect is found solely in the mind and speech or the written word are but communicators of this knowledge?  And squareness prevents us from realizing this?  I’m not certain that is what is being said, but it is a unique argument.  In consideration of the words, I am much better getting my thoughts down on paper than I am articulating my thoughts and expressing them vocally.  So me sitting quietly during a large discussion, but thinking to myself is a sort of intellect integral to existence?  Seems like a bit of a stretch, but I’ll take what I can get.

            I really got on board with the narrator’s discussion of Poincaré’s subliminal self and its relation to Phaedrus’ preintellectual awareness.  The text reads, “[t]he subliminal self […] looks at a large number of solutions to a problem, but only the interesting ones break into the domain of consciousness” (267-8).  He used mathematics as an example because of how the numbers seem to just work with such ease when they are paired correctly.  I suppose our responses to the experiences we have are based on this sort of subconscious inclination.  Sure, things happen out of our control and in disregard to our preferences, but how we react to them and how it may be perceived will be left up to this subliminal thought process.  Preference does not seem explainable, a sort of random, natural occurrence that drives our lives.  This sort of discussion from Zen came up frequently, but I’m still trying to decide what it means of and for my education.

            One of my favorite bits of parts III and IV and perhaps the book itself was the narrator’s conversation about mu.  Never have I heard the term, but I like what it represents.  The text reads, “[m]u means ‘no thing.’ […] It states that the context of the question is such that a yes or no answer is in error and should not be given.  ‘Unask the question’ is what it says.  Mu becomes appropriate when the context of the question becomes too small for the truth of the answer” (320).  I feel like mu is literally all around us.  There is no simple yes or no answer to anything if you really think about it.  Everything is contextual.  Sure, one can answer yes or no to a sentence that asks a basic question, but the reasoning behind the response can never be as easily spoken as the words yes or no.  Does the false response cancel out the question entirely?  This starts to become tricky and confusing.  It seems to me like the answer often cannot be supported by its context and its context not supportive of the answer.  It’s all very circular.  Can I just start writing mu down on test questions I don’t know the answer to?

            I liked how Zen ended in the vein of technology.  I think that was an appropriate—and intentional way—for the narrator to segue his thoughts to modern times.  The text reads, “[…] the real evil isn’t the objects of technology but the tendency of technology to isolate people into lonely attitudes of objectivity” (357).  I’m not sure I agree that the building of freeways is causing the destruction of human relationships, but I would agree that technology has had a sever affect on them.  However, I think technology is doing more good than it is harm.  Technology is a double-edged sword, because it allows more people to connect with one another, but it is often at a much more surface level.  Friends through social networking services are not the same as those who going on morning strolls with one another, though there are a few exceptions (like lifelong friends who are also friends on Facebook).  Zen was all about unity, and I think technology unites people, but also separates them—at least on an emotional level.  If I were to not have my DVR, MacBook, Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon Prime subscriptions, I’d probably get out more and talk to some folks.  I’m not saying I’m giving any of those up, but a lot can be said for how these technological advances have changed the shape of my life.

            Below is a link to an interesting article about quoting out of context—something I always wonder about—whether it be while I am reading an interview or listening to a rehashing of events.  What is truth?!

http://mcs.sagepub.com.proxybz.lib.montana.edu/content/27/4/511.full.pdf+html

Quality of Education

          While I figured Zen would continue to develop as per the motorcycle maintenance metaphor discussed from part one, I feel like I may not be able to handle Pirsig’s next infusion of information.  Part two kept the wheels turning and the audience following what I counted at least three subject-centric story lines.  We’ve got the our narrator, John, and Sylvia traveling cross country, stories about Phaedrus, and a number of general histories of things like institutional education and the differences between Taoism and Buddhism.  It’s interesting to see just how much can be packed into a few short pages.

            The first thing that jumped out at me was the discussion of inductive and deductive logic.  The text reads, “[i]nductive inferences start with observations of the machine [subject] and arrive at general conclusions.  […] Deductive inferences do the reverse.  They start with general knowledge and predict a specific observation” (107).  While the narrator did a nice job with the motorcycle examples, I instantly applied this to education—a trend I cannot seem to shake.  I feel like we as students use far more inductive logic than deductive, but we came into our freshman courses relying on the latter.  We started with this general knowledge of how to learn, how to accept being taught, how to critically analyze the new information we were being fed.  As the semesters passed, we shed our former inclinations in adoption of fresher ones that better fit our new educational surroundings.  As we have gotten older and put more under our belts, we’ve steadily started to rely more on experience than general knowledge.  Sure, both play a role in furthering our education so it’s kind of a mixed bag in that sense.  I feel like we are students with enough experience to elevate us from general knowledge to a mastery of knowledge.

            As an extension of this logic, the text referred to Phaedrus’ lateral knowledge as a means of further explanation.  The text reads, “[l]ateral knowledge is knowledge that’s from a wholly unexpected direction, from a direction that’s not even understood as a direction until the knowledge forces itself upon one” (121-2).  This seems to refer to the need to broaden one’s focus to understand something specific as to understand it in context rather than by its simple definition.  Maybe this was not exactly what the narrator was going for, but I think back to vocabulary tests from middle and high school (and even some college courses).  Sure you can memorize a term and its definition, but it will be rendered useless outside of that classroom if it is not applied appropriately.  These terms and other subjects need to be contextually defined and cannot be limited to understanding through a single lens.  People need understand in their own way using the lateral knowledge described in Zen—though it may not be so easily activated and comes often without prior planning or notice.

            The narrator made an interesting point about dedication in regard to something one has confidence in.  “When people are fanatically dedicated,” the text reads, “to political or religious faiths or any other kinds of dogmas or goals, it’s always because these dogmas or goals are in doubt” (152).  Once again I considered our educations when reading this.  None of us seem to have to emphatically state graduation is our ultimate goal—something that will make all these man-hours of education worthwhile.  I suppose it could be argued there is still a benefit to taking courses even if no degree awaits its completion, but that seems like a fanciful argument.  I’m all but certain I’ll be at commencement and really don’t have to think twice about it, otherwise I would not be here.  So does this mean I am not dedicated to my sure-to-graduate education?  That’s a hard sell.

            The last chapter of the section talked a lot about the idea of quality.  This one actually centered itself on writing as an example, so my cross-comparisons became a little easier.  Phaedrus was not alone with his troubles in the school setting.  It would seem like the highest quality of writing would be the kind that finds the appropriate balance of spelling, grammar, syntax, and content, among others, but this is so infrequently stressed.  Each course I’ve encountered has had a central focus—usually content based—and requires quality writing but never really says just what that means.  Say my sentence structure is totally out of whack and there are contractions all over the page, but this specific piece of writing is based on a relevant and interesting topic and is written well, just not correctly based on a standard.  Can it not be a quality piece?  Can a beautifully composed piece of total fluff be considered quality?  The narrator has yet to answer questions similar to these.  I’m anxious to see what he has to say in the coming chapters.

            Here’s a link to a presentation on writing quality that actually uses Zen as an example.

http://prezi.com/bes4scop9ime/quality-in-writing/

Education Maintenance

Reading Pirsig’s Zen has thus far been an interesting ride—so to speak.  I cannot say I love everything I’m reading or agree with the choices being made during the cross-country journey, but like the use of the motorcycle metaphor.  It took me a little while to figure out just how the ideas being portrayed are applicable to our English seminar class, but I am gradually drawing more and more parallels as I turn the pages.  I see the constant maintenance and upkeep of the motorcycle while our central figures trudge across the map as a commentary of our education—which is by no means limited to the confines of the four-ish official years we are serving at MSU.  We are constantly changing, updating, fixing, and adding to our educations in an effort to fit our personal, academic, and even professional environments as they change over and over.  Much like the road trip of this book, the climate is constantly changing and we must adapt.  This was one of the main points I’ve taken from Zen so far.

            I like the assertion that the figure of time is blurred by our thoughts, and, finding that Zen is comes with an ease of mind where time seems to stand still.  The motorcycle journey is no typical road trip.  Because these sorts of travelers are of the great outdoors, the text reads, they tend to start, “thinking about things at great leisure and length without being hurried and without feeling [they’re] losing time” (15).  The meditative qualities of Zen are worth reflection, because really how often do we sit and concentrate on our thoughts without the distraction of friends, family, school, work, television, etc.?  Maybe right before bed when all is silent, but even then I feel like we are fighting our thoughts back so we can fall asleep.  I doubt I will ever ride a motorcycle for hundreds of miles to find this peace, but it seems like it would be pretty effective.

            I feel like the narrator often takes his thoughts a little too far, as though he’s drunk on his Zen.  In reading the text, I found myself starting to agree with what is being explained, but it seems to stray a little too far or become too abstract at a number of turns for me to say I’m fully on board.  For example, the narrator tells us that laws of nature are human inventions.  How he explains this makes sense, but then he goes on to say, “the world has no existence whatsoever outside the human imagination” (42).  I have a hard time with this statement and others like it.  This is to say there is no world without human beings, and the world as we know it only exists in our imagination.  I understand that enough, but I cannot shake the idea the physical world came before people did.  I know the world he speaks of is more cerebral, but I have trouble separating the two.  I think much more straightforward.  There is a world without us, but we are not there to interpret it.  The whole tree falls in a forest idea seems to come into play.  It makes a sound.  The world goes on without us.  Clearly I’m having trouble with some of Zen’s ideas.

            I had to read over the Phaedrus and laser beam stuff a few times to understand its insertion into the text.  I’m still not sure I totally get it, but I came up with my own understanding for conversation’s sake.  The text reads, “Phaedrus did not try to use his brilliance for general illumination.  He sought one specific distant target and aimed for it and hit it.  And that was all” (87).  I roughly compared Phaedrus’ general illumination to our educations as students, and the focus of the laser beam to our areas of academic concentration—writing for the majority of us.  Even that is not quite as focused as I believe Phaedrus’ target to be.  I think that focus will come after graduation when we find jobs or make other goals to further implement our training in different areas.  One might become a professor, another a short fiction writer, another a columnist, and another a service operator with a great vocabulary.  This is something that truly only time will tell.

            Because graduation is coming up, we as students are starting to consider what’s next.  We all have our dream jobs in mind (hopefully), but it’s highly likely we’ll have to start from the ground up and work toward our endgames.  Here’s a short article on what some writers are doing in the real world, whether it is there dream position or not.

http://search.ebscohost.com.proxybz.lib.montana.edu/login.aspx?direct=true&db=a9h&AN=16429287&login.asp&site=ehost-live