Creativity is as important as the sciences

When I was at senior school I chose to take maths and physical science as my main subjects. I only did this because this made me appear intelligent and gave me a certain status. It also gave me four years of total hell and agony. Science was not for me.

My option otherwise would have been biology, and the thought of all those weird Latin names threw me even more than memorising how electrical currents worked or reciting the periodic table of the chemical elements. In retrospect, I would have loved marketing, strategy, human resources and business management. Pity these subjects hadn’t been invented yet.

The choice of subjects was determined by what the universities required for entrance to the various faculties. My father was determined that I had to go to university not because he wanted me to have a degree, which in itself would have been fairly enlightened for a man of his age. His main ambition was for me to marry somebody with a degree. Definite method in his madness! He won.

Once at university, one can imagine that a science degree was not an option for this maths- and science-challenged person. But what options were really available? In those days, looking back many years, the options were for straight science, commerce, engineering, law and other professions. Then there was something very vague called a Bachelor of Arts.

At the university I went to, and I can’t imagine that this was an isolated situation in South Africa, anybody who was doing a BA tended not to admit to this. The letters stood for “bugger all” in the minds of any non-BA students. It wasn’t worth studying for that degree. Probably hasn’t changed that much since then.

Although social science, come to think of it, was the lowest one could go. That’s why the psychology and sociology lecturers spent at least six months of the first-year curriculum proving why these two subjects were sciences. Nobody yawning through those lectures could understand why the obsession with it. It’s a science, now get on with it.

There was huge status attached to going to university. You were considered intelligent; definitely a step above the rank and file. It was doing a degree, to be said with hushed voice, or alternatively some other trade or something, to be said with a sneer in one’s voice.

Three degrees later, I had finally convinced myself that I wasn’t totally stupid even though I was no scientist. I’m a slow learner! During this protracted period of study, which happened over a 20-year stretch, I had a good look at the academic system and calibre of staff.

Lecturers seemed to be appointed by how many papers they had published and not whether they could actually teach their subject effectively. As with all things in life, there were exceptions, of course.

No matter whether at school or later at university, the education system was designed to ensure that one could show an ability to regurgitate material accurately and according to testing standards. I passed maths at school by relentlessly doing past exam papers.

At university I passed by evaluating the opinions and leanings of the lecturing staff and by writing essays, dissertations, exams and so forth to fit those opinions. Sometimes I didn’t even bother with reading the prescribed material. I even wrote, submitted and passed a third-year economics paper for my then boyfriend. I didn’t study any economics at university. What one doesn’t do for love …

Studying was so for the people wanting to do the summa cum laude trip or wishing to become academics. Playing bridge in the ref was just so much more fun. There was, of course, the rare faculty where staff had some innovative leadership. It was exciting to attend their lectures and producing work was fun. There was only one that I had the good fortune to experience.

Secretly I always thought I was a bit otherwise in my opinion of academia. After all, these institutions are revered and worshipped. Degreed people are looked up to and doctorates and professorships something to aspire to. My brother in law isn’t just “Doctor”; he is “Professor Doctor”.

What a relief it was, then, to watch a video of a highly respected educationalist who has a similar take on the university system as I do. He feels that currently the education provided to young people is directed towards university entrance and towards professorships. It was all brain focused and he joked that professors only had a body so that the brain had a way of getting to meetings.

Intelligence is measured by how far one manages to climb the ivory towers of academia. In fact, this educationalist, Sir Ken Robinson, maintains that the world will be seeing a degree inflation as one now needs a doctorate to have some status and the possibility of a job.

Now as before, the sciences are king and the creative disciplines are viewed as poor cousins. In other words, young people only choose the arts if they have absolutely no ability in the science field.

It was with great amazement that I saw how much support the arts had in the United Kingdom. In the past, in South Africa, funding has been given or withdrawn from theatres, orchestras and galleries depending on the whims of politicians. Schools dedicated to teaching and nurturing musicians, dancers and artists have been closed down.

This is certainly not the case in the UK. Possibly this could be attributed to the efforts of Robinson, who has advised the government on educational policy towards the creative disciplines. In the smallish place that I live in, that is Brighton & Hove, the dance, art, music and choral festivals, theatre productions and much more that is on offer all the time are amazing.

For more or less £10 a pop I can see a top-class piano concerto, a Russian ballet performance or Handel’s oratorio played with original instruments and accompanied by superb soloists and choir in a 1 200-year-old church. I can also spend a month touring through homes in one huge art exhibition or amble along the beach enjoying street dance and performance art during Brighton’s festival. What a feast.

Do take the time to have a look at Robinson’s video. He has some excellent points about education and creativity and his dry English humour makes the lessons he offers great fun to watch.