"The Talk"

[Note: apologies to folks in advance whose posts I'm about to mischaracterize in order to make a point. Readers, be advised that the links may not actually represent the tone of what they link to (though if you look at the comments on most of the posts, you'll see what some of what I mean with this post...)]

Today's the one year anniversary of The Doctor Isn't. And many of the same difficulties I struggled with a year ago are still here. But there's an interesting thing happening that I didn't know about (maybe it wasn't happening last year, maybe I was just a bit too insular): academia is going through its own struggles. And so, tongue in cheek as always, I find today's post particularly appropriate.

That said: a "Dear John" letter to academia.

Dear Academia,
I'm sorry I can't do this face to face, but I can't seem to get you to return my calls or to invite me out for coffee, so I'm afraid this is how it has to be. I cannot help but notice that we've had trouble lately, and we seem to be growing apart. We want different things. Everything you do screams that you have trouble with commitment.

I love you, Academia. You should know that. You've given me so many good things. But I've watched you struggle and stagnate. Worse, I've seen you struggle with an sort of sad romantic version of who you want to be. I don't understand why you can't just be who you are. Maybe we're all that way. I don't know. Your friends keep telling me how you suddenly want to be "Mr. Corporate" - living your life like it's high finance.

"It'll make life more efficient," you say. "It'll make things better."

But efficiency isn't our problem, Academia. Neither is competition. Those are just beautiful but misleading words. They'll sway you, but they won't make you feel any better. And they won't make me stay.

Trying to change our relationship won't make you feel better about yourself.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having my share of problems with our relationship. You've caught me looking and asking "What if?" I'd be lying if I said this was the relationship I thought I was getting into. I guess we all really do make ourselves someone different when we're first getting to know each other. Still, it's painful to watch this midlife crisis. Most middle aged institutions go through this - wanting to slim down and flirt with younger (business) models. But I hope you'll stop to ask yourself what that choice costs you. Those models are lovely, to be sure, but they don't live like you do. Sure, you'll be able to keep up for a little while, but eventually it's going to wear you down. Do you really want to enter the dog-eat-dog world they live in? What efficiency exactly do you need? What competition can you stand? Will it really make you better? Do you really think it will make us better?

The (brass) ring isn't the problem. The problem is that you've decided you want a whole different world, not even a different relationship. You think getting rid of the ring will make me and everyone compete to be with you, but it just means we're likely to seek out the security that ring symbolizes somewhere else. And then where will you be?

I hope I'm getting through to you. I hope you'll listen. Becoming like those corporations you so admire won't make you better. And it won't make me love you more. Think about it.
Yours(?),
Curmudgeon