For some days I have a felt a vague Weltschmerz about everything I do. I’m worried that one book project won’t come together, that another one will not reach its intended audience, that my “calling” has the civilizational value of a personal hobby rather than, you know, dignified work. Probably every writer goes through this. Usually, though, I am able to backstop this feeling by remembering that I am also a teacher — a person of social utility. Lately, that hasn’t been as true, and I am realizing that that loss of confidence has to do with these damn large language models and the fact that they can “write” C+ short papers and that this necessarily does change what a first-year writing teacher should and will do. (I’ve written about this before.)
ChatGPT forces me to answer this question: Do I think (most) everybody needs to be able to write well? If so, what kind of writing is it that (most) everybody needs?
To me, the claim “Everybody should be given the opportunity to learn at least some things about writing” is a democratizing claim. It’s like saying that there should be public pools and gyms, public libraries and museums. There are people who disagree. They say “Isn’t it a shame that folks look down on vocational ed” (sure, but why pit two good things against each other?) and “Not everybody needs to study the liberal arts” (depends on how you mean “everybody,” “study” and “liberal arts”). They see cultural literacy and intellectual curiosity as hobbies for snobs. They post memes about electricians getting revenge on the (mostly imaginary) philosophy majors who look down on blue-collar workers. I can’t say anything that will please these people. You might as well try talking to Thrasymachus.
One of the funny things about teaching the basic subjects — reading, writing, ‘rithmetic — is that, even though these subjects are basic, irreducible, even though at the level of folklore and everyday speech we treat them as constitutive of education itself, and therefore as things a student would do as a soccer player would practice soccer — you can’t do the thing unless you do the thing — a teacher of any of these subjects is also expected to be able to justify them on any grounds except those. Good readers are good coworkers; they collaborate more fairly, and are less likely to misinterpret things said in conversation, and they know how to intervene in an argument more fairly, and also they understand directions better. Good writers send work emails that actually make sense. No, you won’t “use” calculus every day but who knows, you may have to build a bridge at some point, it’s too early to rule that out. At the very least you’ll have to make change — OK, you used to have to make change — and make a budget — if you aren’t willing to use an app for that — and if you learn calculus you’ll never struggle with any of that stuff. Look how useful this all is. It’s basically job training, which we can also provide, as an elective, or even as a college major (at our university you can study Hotel Management; Business; Finance; Being a Fed). Please mr. taxpayer let me mix some actual disinterested for-its-own-sake intellectual activity in there while your kid takes four years learning the job-specific skills that any firm could teach to any well-educated adult in a week. I will make it as painless as possible. I will be so good and quiet.1