CS50 and the Humanities

CS50 has finally, tragically reached Mather House. Office hours on Thursday nights take place in our dining hall, which is so unfortunate for everyone involved because we at Mather aren’t particularly fond of the swarm of desperate students who descend upon us and they usually take a half hour to figure out where Mather even is. Those who didn’t venture over to our dining hall last week were kept fully apprised of the situation via an email thread creatively titled: “Oh my god, CS50.” Here are a few selected emails: “Everyone….beware!!! There’s no water too ;-(.” “There’s really not any water?!?” “I heard they refilled it or something….Someone should check and share.”

There are really only three explanations justifying a thread like that. One: Everyone in Mather sending emails was high on something or other (possible but not likely). Two: The entire Cambridge reservoir ran out of water, and the city went dry (again, possible but not likely). Three: The drink fountains were turned off.

By Anna Papp

But more importantly, I was struck by the sheer number of people taking CS50, a record high. The crowd belies a larger trend, one that has been much discussed and sometimes maligned, a shift away from the humanities toward math and science and computer programming and management. On some level the trend seems hypocritical. The whole point of these fields, as far as I can tell, is to make our work more efficient.  If we develop advanced enough computers and decode how the economy ticks and learn how to manage businesses better, then we can produce more while working less.

But in all the hype about a more productive economy, we lose sight of the end goal. Our newfound speed should allow us to focus more on the arts and literature. It should allow us to focus more on philosophy. It should allow us to focus more on community. It should allow us to focus on everything except our own personal GDPs. Instead, we measure, in the words of Robert F. Kennedy, “neither our wit nor our courage, neither our wisdom nor our learning, neither our compassion nor our devotion to country… everything, in short, except that which makes life worthwhile.”

Which is a bit of an overstatement. Besides, I get it, I really do get it, being an economics concentrator myself. We have student loans to pay back, and booze to buy, and I’ll be damned if I can’t give my kids the same opportunities my parents could afford to give me. So we study math and sciences and engineering, so we can get jobs that pay well once we graduate. Besides, there are only so many times you can listen to a literary analysis in English class contain the word “heteronormativity” before you either punch yourself repeatedly in the face or switch your concentration to computer science.

Yet many of us have completely narrowed our focus to math and science and computer science, and maybe we ought to give the humanities, and everything else, at least a second glance. We’re on a relentless drive to do everything better, faster, more streamlined, made of 1s and 0s. Which is important, to a point. Except nowadays, when we slow down for a minute or two, it’s not to read a book or paint a picture or even throw our plates away (looking at you, freshmen). No; when we take a moment to breathe, it usually involves six-second videos and 140-character messages, both of which tend to involve cats.

So here I am, watching the poor soul furiously typing and trying to track down a TF able and willing to provide some help. It’s like a pinball machine, except there are 875 balls and no goals, and the entropy level just keeps increasing. We all really ought to calm down. The way I figure it, if we’re going to run around like a bunch of headless chickens, we ought to run around like a bunch of calm, collected headless chickens. And if you’re going to spend your nights coding, you damn well better be making apps to enhance the quality of our cat videos.

Then go read a book.

And also, please, if you’re going to drink all the water, do it somewhere other than Mather.

Jacob R. Drucker ’15, a Crimson editorial writer, is an economics concentrator in Mather House. His column appears on alternate Thursdays.