If you read one essay this year, consider "The Case Against Credentialism," written by James Fallows for the Atlantic in 1985.
A lot of what Fallows says is still relevant today, which what makes the essay worthwhile. Twenty seven years ago, the world was not that different from today, at least going by the descriptions in this essay. Then, as now, "the nation's bookshelves [groaned] with analyses of America's productivity problems [and] competitive woes." It's easy to look at the world and think that unchecked corporate greed and bewildering globalization are unique to our time, but they're not.
It's also easy to read Fallows' essay like a criticism of the general professionalization of America. But there's also a much deeper point that Fallows makes about American society. Towards the end, he writes,
"Perhaps the cultural changes that have professionalized America are irreversible. The economist Mancur Olson has gloomily hypothesized that most societies tend to separate into inflexible castes, except when warfare or other cataclysms disrupt the social order [and] unleash new talent."
It's depressing but not entirely unbelievable that for a while now, the so-called "meritocratic" institutions have been part of slowly but surely turning America into what might appear, especially to students of American history, a little too feudal for comfort. There's a widespread perception - maybe not entirely accurate, but still present - that America is turning into an almost casteist country, one in which the conditions (mainly monetary) of a person's birth determine whether or not he will qualify to join an educated elite who increasingly dominate all economic activities and reserve resources for themselves. This is what the Occupy movement is all about, at heart.
Fallows says - and it's worth remembering - that even while the self-made tycoon was the American ideal, he was also largely a myth. In any generation worldwide, most successful children are the products of somewhat successful parents. Fallows refers to this as the "wisely chosen birth" and he's spot on.
But the near-sacred belief that a dedicated person could bootstrap his way from the bottom, Fallows argues, is what encouraged generations of Americans to take risks, strike out on their own, and contribute to the dramatic economic churn that for many years powered American's increasing productivity.
In 1985, he says, that sense of self began to wane, and at the same time, a new ideal arose: the professional. According to Fallows, the problem with idealizing "professionals" is that they add narrow value to society.
Fallows (a Harvard grad and Rhodes scholar) writes, "For much of my adult life I have lived among those who have “had it good” on the meritocracy’s terms. Because of their intellectual promise, they were better educated than most others, and given longer to explore options and make choices. What I find striking about this class is how few of its members are involved in...creative economic efforts...From college and graduate school I know...consultants, and analysts aplenty, but few people who have started their own businesses or created jobs for anyone besides themselves...What kind of merit system is this, if it discounts the activity on which the collective wealth depends?"
And he has harsher words still for all the corporate honchos and lawyers out there: "Why is so much raw talent creamed off for pursuits of such dubious economic value? Why are so many of our smartest people induced to spend their adult lives waging merger wars against one another and doing battle over the tax code?...To such efforts are the best and brightest now drawn."
I might take issue with the use of "best and brightest" in that context, but I get that he was trying to make a point.
Here's what is interesting to me about this essay. The decline of the American "self-made" ideal seems to have coincided with the rise of the Indian "self-made ideal." If Fallows is right and shifts in ideology correlate with - or cause - shifts in economic activity, then what does this mean for India and America?
Is India still a feudal society, almost oligarchic? Yes. Do privileged elites dominate almost all economic activity? Yes. But if we take Fallows at his word, that doesn't matter - what matters is perception.
It's difficult to overstate - to an American - the oppressive extent to which the Indian business families of yesteryear were perceived to dominate all entrepreneurship.
In just a few decades, this perception has changed. Modern India's business heroes include men like Dhirubhai Ambani, Nandan Nilekani, Kishore Biyani and Azim Premji. Are they any of these guys "slumdog billionaires"? Ha, no.
But their existence - and the self-made myth that has come up in India - is what matters. Friends of mine like to complain about how everyone in Delhi seems to be "starting something" - and it's a valid question how many of these enterprises are as solidly conceived as they could be - but belief in the (almost!) impossible is what empowers people (particularly those whose alternative is otherwise a comfortable upper middle-class life) to take dramatic risks.
When I was a science & technology correspondent, I met tons of young Indian kids who had started businesses. Their one common complaint? That their traditional Indian parents didn't understand or identify with the value of risk-taking. Those Indian parents came from a professionalized generation, one for which a good, well-paid job was a rarity, and something to be clung to for life. Once a company secretary, always a company secretary, the thinking went.
We have swapped ideologies and that, if Fallows is correct, is an important step on the road to swapping economies.
---
Of course, the central question - and this is why I distinguish between correlation and causation, to an extent that Fallows doesn't - is whether a rise in entrepreneurial mythology A) leads to economic growth, B) results from it, or C) A & B.
A lot of what Fallows says is still relevant today, which what makes the essay worthwhile. Twenty seven years ago, the world was not that different from today, at least going by the descriptions in this essay. Then, as now, "the nation's bookshelves [groaned] with analyses of America's productivity problems [and] competitive woes." It's easy to look at the world and think that unchecked corporate greed and bewildering globalization are unique to our time, but they're not.
It's also easy to read Fallows' essay like a criticism of the general professionalization of America. But there's also a much deeper point that Fallows makes about American society. Towards the end, he writes,
"Perhaps the cultural changes that have professionalized America are irreversible. The economist Mancur Olson has gloomily hypothesized that most societies tend to separate into inflexible castes, except when warfare or other cataclysms disrupt the social order [and] unleash new talent."
It's depressing but not entirely unbelievable that for a while now, the so-called "meritocratic" institutions have been part of slowly but surely turning America into what might appear, especially to students of American history, a little too feudal for comfort. There's a widespread perception - maybe not entirely accurate, but still present - that America is turning into an almost casteist country, one in which the conditions (mainly monetary) of a person's birth determine whether or not he will qualify to join an educated elite who increasingly dominate all economic activities and reserve resources for themselves. This is what the Occupy movement is all about, at heart.
Fallows says - and it's worth remembering - that even while the self-made tycoon was the American ideal, he was also largely a myth. In any generation worldwide, most successful children are the products of somewhat successful parents. Fallows refers to this as the "wisely chosen birth" and he's spot on.
But the near-sacred belief that a dedicated person could bootstrap his way from the bottom, Fallows argues, is what encouraged generations of Americans to take risks, strike out on their own, and contribute to the dramatic economic churn that for many years powered American's increasing productivity.
In 1985, he says, that sense of self began to wane, and at the same time, a new ideal arose: the professional. According to Fallows, the problem with idealizing "professionals" is that they add narrow value to society.
Fallows (a Harvard grad and Rhodes scholar) writes, "For much of my adult life I have lived among those who have “had it good” on the meritocracy’s terms. Because of their intellectual promise, they were better educated than most others, and given longer to explore options and make choices. What I find striking about this class is how few of its members are involved in...creative economic efforts...From college and graduate school I know...consultants, and analysts aplenty, but few people who have started their own businesses or created jobs for anyone besides themselves...What kind of merit system is this, if it discounts the activity on which the collective wealth depends?"
And he has harsher words still for all the corporate honchos and lawyers out there: "Why is so much raw talent creamed off for pursuits of such dubious economic value? Why are so many of our smartest people induced to spend their adult lives waging merger wars against one another and doing battle over the tax code?...To such efforts are the best and brightest now drawn."
I might take issue with the use of "best and brightest" in that context, but I get that he was trying to make a point.
Here's what is interesting to me about this essay. The decline of the American "self-made" ideal seems to have coincided with the rise of the Indian "self-made ideal." If Fallows is right and shifts in ideology correlate with - or cause - shifts in economic activity, then what does this mean for India and America?
Is India still a feudal society, almost oligarchic? Yes. Do privileged elites dominate almost all economic activity? Yes. But if we take Fallows at his word, that doesn't matter - what matters is perception.
It's difficult to overstate - to an American - the oppressive extent to which the Indian business families of yesteryear were perceived to dominate all entrepreneurship.
In just a few decades, this perception has changed. Modern India's business heroes include men like Dhirubhai Ambani, Nandan Nilekani, Kishore Biyani and Azim Premji. Are they any of these guys "slumdog billionaires"? Ha, no.
But their existence - and the self-made myth that has come up in India - is what matters. Friends of mine like to complain about how everyone in Delhi seems to be "starting something" - and it's a valid question how many of these enterprises are as solidly conceived as they could be - but belief in the (almost!) impossible is what empowers people (particularly those whose alternative is otherwise a comfortable upper middle-class life) to take dramatic risks.
When I was a science & technology correspondent, I met tons of young Indian kids who had started businesses. Their one common complaint? That their traditional Indian parents didn't understand or identify with the value of risk-taking. Those Indian parents came from a professionalized generation, one for which a good, well-paid job was a rarity, and something to be clung to for life. Once a company secretary, always a company secretary, the thinking went.
We have swapped ideologies and that, if Fallows is correct, is an important step on the road to swapping economies.
---
Of course, the central question - and this is why I distinguish between correlation and causation, to an extent that Fallows doesn't - is whether a rise in entrepreneurial mythology A) leads to economic growth, B) results from it, or C) A & B.
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