READING GUIDE TO :
Bourdieu, P. and Passeron, J.C. (1979) The
Inheritors: French students and their
relation to culture, Chicago:
University of Chicago Press.
by Dave Harris
Chapter one
Class chance data is
presented for France, covering access to
university and also choice of subjects. Generally, Arts and
Sciences are preferred for lower class
applicants, while the other professions attract
upper class students. Gender
is magnified by class in terms of access,
especially for lower class students, and a
strong influence on subject choice throughout. However, some Arts
students are also relegated from the upper
class: for them, arts subjects are a refuge.
There are therefore
economic and cultural obstacles to success at
the university. These
include religion and age [in France, the older
students are often those who have had to repeat
grades].
Social origins produce
different rates of financial provision, affect
where people live, and affect the sort of work
they do. For
example, they influence the amount of parental
subsidy.
As a result, students do
not really have a common situation or
experience. They
come from very different cultural backgrounds,
and quite different experiences from being at
home or feeling out of place (13).
They experience differential success
according to their 'previously acquired
intellectual tools, cultural habits' (14). Particularly important
is their ability to manipulate 'the abstract
language of ideas', which is much easier if you
have done Greek or Latin. Cultural
heritage is also amplified by various scholastic
streams and channels, which produce 'sanctions
which consecrate social inequalities' (14). For some, their
educational past is a definite handicap,
including the absence of classical languages or
adequate advice on careers.
These inequalities are
concealed by their belief that some students
possess 'gifts', producing a disdain for
practical techniques of study noted below. University life tends
to be eclectic and dilettante, mostly because
bourgeois students are 'more assured of their
vocations or their abilities' (15). Those from other
origins are far more dependent on the
university. For the
bourgeois, a liking for 'intellectual exoticism
and formalistic purity' helps 'liquidate a
bourgeois experience while expressing it' (15). Detachment and a
willingness to take risks 'presupposes a greater
security’ (15). Self
assurance pays off in exams, especially in orals
[presentations?]. This
stance is helped by universities themselves who
value 'remaining aloof from "academic" values
and disciplines' (17).
Bourgeois students inherit
'habits, skills and attitudes…
knowledge and know how, tastes and a
"good taste"'(17), which do pay off even if
indirectly. A
suitable extracurricular culture is the
'implicit condition for academic success in
certain disciplines'(17), for example coming
from a family with experiences in the theatre,
art galleries, concerts, knowledge of modern
works even jazz or the cinema.
These experiences display a combination
of cultural and economic factors here [and
strongly prefigures the work in Distinction,
even with some initial survey data]. The absence of
explicit instruction in universities makes this
cultural influence more important.
Influences are often subtle, for example
in the displaying of knowledge of the past in
the effortless reproduction of academic
argument. Interests
are often combined, enabling those from suitable
backgrounds to distinguish themselves from those
possessing purely scholastic knowledge. There is a whole
constellation of knowledge to draw upon. There also important
personal qualities such as 'ironic casualness,
mannered elegance, or… assurance
which lends ease or the affectation of ease'
(20). [So common
among the English upper classes as well].
This sort of cultural
background works indirectly, casually and
informally, it seems effortless, acquired by
osmosis [some nice examples on page 20—like the
casual disclosure of cultural interests,
'acquired without intention or effort']. Those from lower and
middle class backgrounds try to catch up at
university, for examples by going to film clubs. Schools could
compensate, but they also tend to ignore social
inequalities and devalue 'the vulgar mark of
effort' (21). Thus universities offer only a
misleading formal equality, and ignore marked
social differences, whole areas which are
clearly related to success.
Teaching
presupposes a level of knowledge, skills and
culture which are the 'heritage of the
cultivated classes' (21).
Secondary school uses a
number of secondary significations which take
for granted 'the whole treasury of first degree
experiences’—books, entertainment, holidays as
'cultural pilgrimages', and 'allusive
conversations' (22). The
universal nature of education simply means all
must enter. Working-class
children can only imitate, and the whole
experience for them is unreal.
Access needs to be not
just a matter of economic background. 'Ability' should not
be seen as a matter of a gift but the result of
'affinities between class cultural habits and
the demands of the education system' (22). Knowledge and
techniques are inseparable from social values. Some working-class
students are willing to undertake university
experience because they see academic knowledge
as high status, and it 'symbolises entry into
the elite' (22). However,
social mobility via education is 'a fantasy, and
abstraction for [most] manual workers' (23). Their ambitions are
lower: they make an objective adjustment. The petty bourgeoisie
are the most keen on education, and they openly
support elite culture even though they find it
just as difficult to acquire: they think they
can make up the deficit with hard work.
Teacher judgments are
ultimately based on the closeness to elite
culture. Teachers
classically devalue other approaches such as
seriousness and hard work.
Social advantages and disadvantages are
cumulative as a result. Even
geographical
location is important because living in a city
means greater access to cultural facilities.
There is no mechanical
determinism here, though, since inheritance is
not always successful. Upper
class culture can merely lead to the 'superficial pastime
of elegant parlor games' (25), but usually it is
exploited to find a comfortable way through an
education system. It
is true that working-class entrants to
university can gain in ambition and
determination. However,
those who succeed nearly always have some kind
of unusual family background like a successful
relative, who will raise their ambitions and
reject fatalism. [In conventional research as
well as in policy and common sense] isolated
factors are seen as important [instead of seeing
qualifying factors as well].
It is more common to
persuade the underprivileged to drop out rather
than to exert a direct influence on them, or to
reveal open determinism. It
would be wrong to attribute all the blame to
economic or political factors, but social
mechanisms work well despite minor adjustments
such as scholarships. Indeed,
these minor reforms can help to justify the
system by locating 'giftedness’ as the issue. The same goes for
moves to equalise the economic circumstances of
students [grants?]—they
would only legitimise a system which itself
legitimises privilege.
Chapter two
There is no unified
student world or culture, but a constant flux
with only periodic routine.
There are cycles of study leading to
exams, but it is a unique time of life where
normal oppositions do not apply, including
the opposition between work and leisure [lots of
quotes on page 30 from students saying that they
regard their work as a form of leisure:
'It's
the
only time in life when you can put off what
you've got to do, work when it suits you, be
unemployed if you feel like it…
(Senior executive' son, Paris, aged 26)… There's no such thing
as leisure: I refuse to draw a line between work
and leisure, I don't accept that dichotomy… (Junior executive son,
Paris)… My work
isn't unpleasant; it's not something I'm forced
to do. I could
almost say all my work is in leisure… (A junior executive
son, Paris)… I
don't separate work and leisure.
If there's a decent movie on I go and see
it, whether it's a weekday or a Sunday. The question really
doesn't arise. There
is no particular pattern to my leisure
activities; I choose what I'm going to do but I
don't organise it… There's
nothing fixed (senior executives daughter,
Paris)' (30).
However…
'Yes
I waste a terrible amount of time; I don't know
how to organize my work properly, and, since
workhouse to come by for leisure…
I have no time left for leisure (senior
executives some, Paris). The
fact is I don't seem able to discipline myself,
it's always the same story (senior executive's
son, Paris)'. NB
Bourdieu and Passeron see this as an
aristocratic form of lifestyle.
There is a characteristic
student lifestyle with a lack of discipline and
a ‘libertarian use of “free time”’ (31). Students are
individualised, despite occasional ‘islands of
integration’ (32). Integration
has no institutional basis.
It is therefore not easy to organise
collective work, or cooperation, or small
workgroups. Individualistic
competition
persists
instead. The old
traditions like student festivals and songs are
in decline, and there are not even initiation
rituals, except possibly in Law and Medicine. There are no real
social divisions or any bases for solidarity—for
example the rivalry between different
disciplines or other signs of the persistence of
sub cultures, including argot.
Students are not even well connected
through friendship groups, except where these
depend on earlier shared schooling or regional
identity. Upper
class students are the most integrated socially. Friends’ advice is not
sought in the choice of a subject or career,
rumours spread but not information.
The student milieu is
therefore not autonomised, but consists of a
‘fluid aggregate [rather] than an occupational
group’ (36).There is a nostalgia for
integration, but actual organisation fails.
Girls are the keenest to initiate collective
activity, following the ‘characteristics of the
woman’s traditional role’ (36).
Staff participation helps.
The most common result of this lack of
organisation is resignation or utopianism,
especially in Paris students’ activism, which
includes ‘conceptual terrorism of verbal
demands’ (37). A
belief in cooperative work, small groups and so
on persists, but as the projection of an ideal.
Yet such projections
reveal an underlying objective reality [by
contrast]. Students
want to identify individually with this mythical
unity. Characteristic
student behaviours are ‘symbolic’ indicators of
this project. 'Student'
is therefore a chosen identity, the rejection of
past identities, including those associated with
the occupation of one’s parents, part of a
general denial of class determinism [but not
gender?]. It is
important to not conform, to distinguish oneself
while labelling others. This
is another example of the transformation of
necessity into freedom (39) [so it is not just
the working classes who have to do this?]
Student identity means the rejection of any
actual bonding. For
example cafes are frequented because there, one
encounters the ‘archetypal student’ [rather as
students went to the library in Lille to conform
to the archetypal student, in Academic
Discourse].
Students live out their
relations to their class of origin according to
‘the models of the intellectual class
reinterpreted’ (40). They
display a reaction to the discipline of the
secondary school. By
comparison, student identity is a sign of
‘cultural free will’ (40).
Guidance from older students is important
here, and prestigious examples can include
university teachers. Everyone
knows a high prestige professor who is far from
being a mere pedagogue. This
only disguises power relations.
The university is still a
very important influence, though.
Students still do well if they are
‘adapted to the university and can transpose its
scholastic techniques and interests’ (41). So called alternative
cultural worlds, based
around jazz or cinema actually complement the
university world [is this still the same with
contemporary universities and contemporary
commercial popular culture?].
[There is a hint of the cultural omnivore
thesis here, 41]. Students’
public denial of the importance of university
culture and teaching disguises the real
influence at work through the ‘cultural goods
market’ (42).
An important role in
actually orienting the tastes of students is
played by ‘Professorial charisma…
The display of virtuosity, the play of
laudatory allusions or depreciatory silences’
(42). Students are
passive and willing to be taught, or to let
teachers guide them. So
close is the connection that ‘the study of
consumption can be collapsed into a study of
production’ (42). University
culture includes ‘the scholastic consecration of
novelties’ (43). As
a result, university culture is more homogenous
than it looks [in support, student prize winners
are given as examples, revealing their
conformist tastes, even if those cover the avant
garde]. The ideal
student is still a homo academicus, often the
son and grandson of teachers, often wanting to
be a philosophy lecturer, often showing some
precocious talents. The
university therefore ‘always preaches to the
converted’ (43).
However, some students are
only playing at having intellectual tastes,
displaying ‘collective
bad faith’, or deploying the
‘ruse of reason’ (44).
An illusory intellectual life is
possible. It
usually involves ignoring social origins and
destinations, and ‘autonomising the present of
studenthood’ (44). It
involves games and tricks, and is assisted by
the ‘unreality of university practice’ (44),
where there are no real sanctions, and even
examinations are playful rather than work-like. Students do feel
insecure, and lecturers do judge their work, but
there is a constant ambivalence—for example
students and lecturers commonly joke about
examinations and yet still see them as a matter
of ‘personal salvation’ (45) especially the
dissertation. It is
a very involving game. Even
the student challenges are within the rules of
the intellectual game of contestation: thus
‘Revolts against the system…
achieve… the
ultimate ends pursued by the university’ (45)
[reads pretty much like Willis on working
class lads rebelling but then ending up in
manual work]. Even
student rebels worship culture if not the
university. Bohemian
behaviour still equates to obedience to
traditional models. Any
escape into popular culture is still
characterised as a form of literary discussion.
This is especially marked
in the Paris Arts Faculty.
Students are mostly bourgeois, but
commonly deny their background and espouse left
wing causes, but without adopting any particular
orthodoxy or party membership.
Instead, they adopt new labels. They have a mostly
aesthetic commitment to an avant garde, which
leads to a ‘conformism of anti conformism’ (46). Rebellion is little
more than the ‘symbolic breaks of adolescence’
seen as an ‘intellectual self realisation’ (46). Any sexual liberation
pursued by women can be seen simply as a formal
reversal of the value of virginity. Extreme political
views are best read as a symbolic break with the
family. Symbolic
differences are more important than the real
differences provided by social origin. Student radical life
features endless argument to establish
differentiations within the general consensus of
the avant garde. Concrete
commitments tend to be applauded.
Political debate is seen as a kind of
play, and is work. Politics
becomes a pastime. In
reality, it is wealth and privilege that enables
intellectual detachment, intellectual mastery,
and political audacity. Privileged
students are also better able to accumulate a
‘capital of information’, based on their
membership of literary and philosophical
political coteries, and the ability to attend
lots of outside lectures and assemblies [in
Paris] (49). Any
diversity in the academic world produces the
relativisation of professorial privilege [not
enough to lead to serious criticism?] , and the
opportunity for more intellectual adventure.
University life becomes an
excellent preparation for the later literary
games played among the Parisian bourgeoisie, and
wider philosophical discussion, for example of
the crisis in education, shows the ‘beginners’
illusion [masquerading as a] basis for a
universal reflection’ (15).
There is still a lot of studentanxiety
however, and here, ideological debates offer
assurance. A liking
for student [revolutionary?] festivity is really
a form of symbolic integration.
The ideal type Parisian
Arts student draws from a literary education and
from the cultural opportunities offered by
Paris, and the ‘risk free freedom that a well to
do social origin makes possible’ (51). Bourgeois students see
university life as intellectual adventure, not
as ‘an apprenticeship subject to the test of
occupational success’ (51).
There are more
working-class students now, but bourgeois values
persist: those values ‘will not cease to be
regarded as inseparable from the [student]
milieu’ (51). Nevertheless,
modern students can perceive university teaching
as somehow unreal, possibly because they have
experience of real occupations. Thus actual
students will vary according to their commitment
to the ideal type, and this will vary according
to their social origins. ‘Serious’
students can be both critics of this unreality,
and still prepared to consider only university
problems as serious.
[What a condemnation of
student activists! I
do recognise the posturing bourgeois type from
my own experiences during the student revolt at
LSE, and, later at Essex, and I know exactly
what they mean by the insistence on preserving
literary forms of argument while discussing
radical overhauls. During
one sit in at LSE, friends made it their
business to guard the library!
Proles werestill mocked for their
vulgarity. Several dreadful poseurs made fiery
speeches proposing solidarity with the north
Vietnamese army, and then fled at the prospect
of being arrested by the metropolitan police! However, I think they
do underestimate the impact on some working
class lads such as myself, who did gain an
insight into professorial incompetence that led
to a lifetime’s scepticism.
Nevertheless, I think they are broadly
right. Interestingly,
the ideal type bourgeois radical manifests
itself best in education departments of
respectable UK universities, where students are
still harangued with idealist and utopian
visions, and words like ‘oppression’ or
‘struggle’ are used both to describe third world
radical movements and the need to cope with an
inconvenient timetable].
Chapter three
[This chapter starts with
an astonishing criticism of child centred and
play-centred education—by Hegel!
Such an education preserves immaturity,
it is indifferent to the intellectual world, and
it shows contempt for elders!
(54)]
It is possible to
construct an ideal type of rational conduct for
student, based on
the claims that characterise university life. However, the real
issue is self-creation, and to be a participant
in academic culture. The
rational type will argue that university culture
is to be mastered, yet this is denied in
practice, and instead there is a goal of
independence, the abolition of the distinction
between the student and the teacher. However, this
distinction is abolished only in the
imagination, without going through the painful
process of subjection first [very familiar
terminology here!]. Indeed,
there is often a straightforward denial of
student passivity. This imaginary resolution is
satisfactory to students and professors,
although denied by both conservatives and
revolutionary utopians. Rational
conduct, however would involve seeing passivity
as a means to an occupational end.
The denials involve a view that the
present should dominate the future, and that the
status of student should become more autonomous.
Students occupy pre-
constructed roles, like the 'exam hound' or the
dilettante. Life
goes on in a magical mode [compare with the
notion of magical resolution in gramscian work]. Options can coexist in
that world. The
magical world is supported by professors, 'the
students'opponents and accomplices' (57). Professors do not want
to appear as having a rational role, as a mere
'teaching auxiliary' (58).
The whole experience is therefore
mystified or enchanted, and this mystical
relation rather than the technical function of
education affects the teaching experience. Professors claim they
have some gift in transmitting culture, and this
notion of gift is reciprocated by students [very
similar arguments are made in Academic
Discourse].
Students do vary, however. The awareness of an
occupational destinations seems particularly
vague for Arts students, and uncertain for
sociologists: these views actually mimic the
real possibilities! There
is no occupational point to study for the
students, so it is justified instead as an
intellectual adventure. Their
values ‘depend on mystified experience' (59). [There is a hint here
that the enchantment of rationalised study is
deliberate].
Women students have more
reason to mystify, although for them reality
dawns earlier. They
often describe the substantial freedoms involved
in using academic work to escape [rather like
the stuff I have been quoting from Quinn!]. However, intellectual
escape is still associated with the traditional
female values, including their desired
destinations as teachers, and their lower
confidence in their intellectual capacities. They're still more
likely to be instrumental, and to use their
'scholastic zeal and docility as a way of
avoiding the question of the future' (61). Another option is
female student apathy. [Or]
female students report high levels of
commitment to university life, again echoing
traditional female values such as exalting
sacrifice, and using words like relationship or
enrichment, or talking about the development of
personality [lots of examples PP. 61,62]. This can be an
alternative to the magical concealment preferred
by men. Female
options echo the sexism of the university.
Social origin has effects
as well. There are
parallels between working class origins and
being female. Neither
are likely to get an intellectual occupation and
so they are less likely to invest in the
intellectual game approach.
They need to bow to necessity and
acknowledge the importance of an occupation. Upper class students
are happier with vague projects, but
working-class students are more focused, because
they are more aware that they need not have been
students at university at all.
Upper class students are more distant,
more prone to mystification, more contemptuous
of pedagogy and methods, and of scholarly
discipline. They,
and many professors, would find any kind of
practical instruction about coping with
university life—like using a card index for
drawing up a bibliography—as demeaning, the act
of a 'vulgar schoolmaster' (63).
The same goes for any kind of
intellectual training—instead, upper class
students and professors prefer the romantic
image of free. inspired creation.
Magical perceptions are
common. Professors
collude by denying
clear information, such as their criteria, and
the techniques necessary to succeed. Students deny the
importance of hard work and routine, and see
success arising from a gift or by magic. This explains their
following examination rituals, whether it be
feverish last minute revision, or obsessive note
taking—'a technique for spiritual consolation'
(64) [modern students attend lectures and
seminars obsessively, and even complain if they
are cancelled—but never take notes!]. There are
superstitions, guessing rituals, amulets and
fetishes, and the repetition of successful
conduct. Success is
seen as a reward for having a gift, including
the gift of successful guessing (65). There is 'overt
contempt’ for any rational approach (65). Professors collude in
this too: it is reciprocal—for example the
lecture style means that students can enjoy
anonymity [and ritual attendance]—and both
professors and students oppose rational
approaches.
These findings show the
ultimate goal of the university system [social
reproduction]. The
rational approach contradicts these ultimate
goals. Cultural
transmission could be rationalised, and it would
benefit the most disadvantaged students [more on
rational teaching later].
Conclusion
Because real educational
inequalities are never discussed, differences
are seen as a result of ‘giftedness’ (67). Differences are
tolerated only if they are seen as differences
in gifts, or as the occasional social handicap
faced by a gifted student.
The lack of talent or enthusiasm in
students is never explained.
Formal examinations express a purely
formal equality: as they are anonymous it is
impossible to see how they reflect cultural
inequalities. The
formal policy of equal opportunity only
‘transforms privilege into merit’ (68). It is impossible to
have any other outcome unless serious weight is
given to the social origins of students [or
value added?]. However,
we would then expect unequal terminal
performances. This
could lead to a hierarchy of institutions, and
the degree overall could be devalued. Experience in some
communist countries might be cited, but even
there there is often a tension [between
rewarding 'redness' and expertise]. Overall, the roles of
the game have to remain unquestioned. The lack of
questioning is shown in the continuing
attraction of the grandest institutions and most
prestigious disciplines in French universities
to all recruits. The
credibility of the system requires that
inequalities affecting students from outside the
university are ignored. Insisting
on the role of social differences is therefore a
challenge to the whole system.
Giftedness is like
charisma. It
benefits the privileged and legitimates their
contempt for the less privileged.
Working-class students accept this as a
kind of essentialism (70), and personalise their
disadvantage. Indeed,
working-class students are among those who
believe most strongly in the idea of a
charismatic gift. The
tendency to reduce to essentialism is common
among students because they are already prone to
see who they are as what they do.
Teachers also assume their
success arises from some personal gift, another
essentialism. Often,
the education system has been their only route
to success, confirming this essentialism. It is often linked
with the denigration of vulgar effort.
Students are only too
willing to accept their status as victims rather
than blame ‘clumsy teachers’ (71).
Often their parents are over impressed by
teachers' opinions or by the simple scores in
educational tests, and are liable to say things
like ‘He’s no good at French’, which naturalises
inequality. Student
objections to the system are often still couched
in [victim vocabulary], and they expect
solutions to be provided only by the generosity
of teachers. Populist
demands [such as that working-class culture has
to be valued alongside elite culture] are also
limited, since the dominant system is not just a
simple class culture. Furthermore,
academic skills and aptitudes can be learned.
The first requirement is
to aim to affect the home environment. Teachers need to be
fully explicit about what is required. The usual formulae are
not enough [superstitions, but also
including routine study skills advice?]. Teachers need to avoid
any claims to have professorial charisma, and to
develop a rational pedagogy, although this is
‘still to be invented’ (73).
Scientific pedagogy is no good because it
ignores social conditions [so a real difference
between Bourdieu and the educational
technologists here]. We
need to evaluate different methods of teaching,
modes and actual procedures—for example, should
we give general technical advice or close
direction of student work?
Efficiency should be seen as related to
students' social origins. We
might need constant exercises to build up the
skills needed. At
the moment, this is denied by the myth of
student autonomy and independent learning (74)
which only help legitimates the charismatic
teacher myth and see alternatives as pedantry.
Students vacillate between
the perceived need for discipline and the myth
of the aristocratic stance.
Teachers also vacillate, taking an
aristocratic stance until they have to do
assessment (75). Professional
judgments
in reality are 'based on personal criteria,
variable from teacher to teacher and… tied to the particular
case' (75). Students
need to decipher these criteria and try to
rationalise them.
Students from upper class
origins can adapt to these diffuse requirements,
because of a 'clear affinity between school
culture and the culture of the cultivated class'
(75). When asked to
undertake oral exams, upper class students just
demonstrate the skills which are already
unconsciously valued [in presentations too?].
Any open recognition of the effects of social
origin 'would be regarded as scandalous' (75).
In a rational approach,
there would be clarity about the 'reciprocal
requirements of teachers and taught… the organisation of
study… to enable
students from the disadvantaged classes to
overcome their disadvantages' (75). [Then a strangely
utilitarian remark]: we should permit the
'greatest possible number of individuals to
appropriate in the shortest possible time, as
completely and perfectly as possible, the
greatest number of the abilities which
constitute school culture at a given moment'
(76). This approach
will be neither traditional nor
technical/specialist. Until
we develop it, education cannot overcome
inequality. At the
same time, a rational pedagogy is in its turn
impossible unless recruitment of teachers and
students is democratised.
Epilogue
The middle class demand
for university expansion arises from the need to
secure their social places [credentialist
closure]. The
response to the development of a modern economy
has been to demand more kinds of education. Diplomas
themselves have probably been devalued in terms
of their role in regulating access to jobs. The rapid growth of
more functional [vocational?] education and more
functional jobs have devalued traditional
diplomas, and excluded non holders of diplomas
altogether. Academic
qualifications have also helped to unify the
whole system of qualifications [compare with the
British government's model of 8 different
levels].
As well as obtaining a
diploma, it is important to exploit its value,
and this requires further investments of
educational and social capital.
Those stopping at the lower levels, and
new arrivals at the higher ones, are likely to
suffer most from devaluation.
They can fight back, for themselves and
for their children, by demanding even more
better qualifications [as in the credentialist
spiral].
Educational qualifications
can be converted to economic capital in several
ways. Graduates
might be able to demand higher wages: those holding diplomas have
overtaken small independent businessmen in terms
of income [almost a counterbalance argument
here, based on some statistical evidence, the
authors claim]. Alternatively,
graduates might be able to shift into new
businesses. This
can be seen in the changes around craft work,
for example, which now feature luxury and
leisure goods. These
require a more cultural capital (80). For such goods, value
lies in the 'casual distinction of the vendor
[as much] as on the nature and quality of the
wares' (81), and it is important to demonstrate
a mastery of taste rather than technical skills. These sorts of new
cultural industries seem ideal for those with
cultural capital rather than high levels of
educational capital [as an example, the denser
members of the UK royal family seem to be able
to make a good living making very posh
furniture].
Holders of devalued
qualifications can try to retain their value [an
interesting possibility relating to the recent
work on knowledge
economy in the UK, which also predicts
falling returns to university degrees]. For example, the
diploma can become a licence to gain privilege
rather than an actual job, and to increase self
esteem. Again more
objective mechanisms are required, including a
need to invest in valuable educational capital,
perhaps by pulling out of unfashionable subjects [or unis]. It is
possible to cling on to the old values to some
extent, if you can persuade colleagues and the
family of the value of your diploma, this can
sometimes mask a real devaluation.
In some circumstances, it might lead to
actual revaluation [if particular degree
subjects become fashionable, or if you can
persuade employers that the prestige of the
qualification is the most important thing]. Those who supply jobs
however are likely to reward their real value of
diplomas, especially if they are pursuing
deskilling strategies as well.
[I can still see a place for well
educated but non technical people as decorative
members of boards of directors].
In the worst case, diploma holders can be
unemployed, and can see themselves as refusing
to play the game [hence the moral drop out, who
gains an engineering degree, finds it overtaken
by technical developments, and gives it all up
to run a smallholding in Devon].
more
notes on Bourdieu and other social theorists
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