The Ship of Theseus

Recently, I listened to a discussion about the paradox of the Ship of Theseus, which is a thought experiment around the question as follows: if a ship, battered by the storms of the sea, was restored by replacing every single wooden part, would it remain the same ship? If not, at what point would it be "officially" declared as something different? Which plank, floorboard, or part would be the one that made the difference? Obviously, this is a thought experiment that has a million different answers, none of them correct. However, the discussion (which was applied as I listened to it about the changes in our own lives) got me to thinking about this thought experiment and how it applies to the current dynamics of the higher education landscape.

I have heard a great deal about the perceived change of what college is, what it was and what it ought to be. Many of those steeped in the traditions of the academy argue that the changes upon us are a bridge too far, that there is a "cheapening" of the degree, and that there is too great a desire for college to become a sort of trade school (as though somehow the concept of trade school is in and of itself a pejorative term). The thought is that the swapping out of the core "staples" of a college education, the many pieces of a wide checklist of courses and experiences, have been swapped out one-by-one to where the current college experience is no longer a journey of higher learning at all. And that has me thinking about the Ship of Theseus, and the question of identity.

For those that argue that higher education has been "cheapened" or changed irrevocably, which course would one argue was the one that irrevocably made it something different, or something less than? Which requirement was changed? Which thing was made different? Was moving from two required courses in this or that down to only one the very thing that made a college degree no longer as valuable, prized or meaningful? Was it a perceived measure of intellect equated to a score on a standardized test that made the college experience meaningful? Or is higher education something more than a checklist of courses, a set of gates or an arranged obstacle course of higher bars that people have to jump?

Our Ship of Theseus is so unwilling to change a single battered board or weathered part out of fear that the ship may no longer be the prized craft we perceive it to be. For a new generation of digital natives, part of the challenge of why higher education is perceived as so questionable to their future is largely that our craft looks worn, out of date and not like a thing worth boarding. We've been so beholden to our traditions and definitions, we've refused to look at the true identity and value of what higher education is and can be. It is not a list of courses, it's not a check sheet of filled boxes with "two of these, one of those, three from this column and two from the other." Our value has always been to provide our students with the ability to think critically, communicate effectively and prepare themselves for the journey of lifelong learning. Our value statement has been and always will be formed from an identity of creating opportunity and mobility, and while the boards and planks might be refreshed, the heart of our ship is grounded in that reality.

And so, perhaps it's time for a makeover from a position of confidence. To understand our value and identity and not be fearful of making the changes necessary to make ourselves new for a new generation. We need to stop being so worried about losing our identity through change, and start worrying about being relevant and valuable for a new generation in need. Our Ship of Theseus can still sail even if the parts are refreshed and the hull looks different, but to navigate the choppy waters of our future, we best prepare our ships now.