The room where it happened, my fate thus sealed |
First, my credentials: I am the son of a mechanical
engineer, spouse of an aeronautical engineer, and father of an environmental
engineer. I not only support STEM, I adore STEM.
But I hail from a different tribe, that of the liberal arts
majors. I cast my lot long ago in a diner on the East Side of Providence, announcing
to my college friends that I would major in history. “Oh, so you want to teach
history,” one of my buddies asked, before adding, “could you pass the maple
syrup?”
My fate thus sealed, I spent the rest of my undergraduate
days having a particular set of skills drilled into my noggin: Sift through a
mountain of information by reading quickly and critically, ask good questions,
separate signal from noise, and use the results to craft a concise, compelling
narrative. That is, take a feral world and tame it into a cracking good story.
After graduation, I took my history degree to Wall Street for
a couple of years, returned home to earn my MBA (squeaking through Managerial
Economics), and soon found myself working on the launch of a new company.
“We need a business plan,” my STEM boss said, looking at
me.
“What would you like me to do?” I asked.
“Well,” he said, dropping two binders and a box of material
on my desk, “you need to quickly read through this mountain of information, ask
good questions, and separate signal from noise. Then you need to draft a
compelling narrative. After that,” he added, “we can go raise some money.”
Ginger could do anything Fred could-- backward and in heels. |
Have you heard the old joke about Ginger Rogers, the great
Fred Astaire’s dance partner? Ginger, it
was said, could do everything Fred could do—but backward and in heels.
For this lowly liberal arts major, it turned out that writing
history was the same as writing a business plan, just backward and in heels. And
unlike history, where my most important sources were dead, I could build a
business plan by picking up the phone and speaking with a living person.
Best of all, dancing forward into the future sometimes
resulted in investors writing checks.
Liberal Arts Meets Entrepreneurship
As I researched my latest book, Innovation on Tap, I
had in mind this crazy idea that both worlds could be combined, that history
could be a useful tool for entrepreneurs designing business plans. Instead of a
collection of dry facts, I thought, history was a laboratory where centuries of
amazing experiments had been conducted. With a little diligence, these
experiments would unfold as fascinating stories, some of which could have direct
application to modern entrepreneurs.
A second underlying idea in Innovation on Tap is
that entrepreneurship is just a bunch of liberal arts impulses directed at the
market in ways that could be profitable.
Take, for example, the liberal arts tenet that says learning
doesn’t have to have a direct payoff; knowledge enriches life and is good for
its own sake. In the case of an entrepreneur, becoming a lifelong learner could
pay unexpected dividends at any moment in his or her career.
Innovation on Tap |
The classic case is Steve Jobs, who dropped out of Reed
College but decided, in his free time, to attend a calligraphy course. He had
no payoff in mind. He just loved the subject and thought calligraphy was
beautiful. Years later while designing the Macintosh, Jobs’ knowledge of
calligraphy paid off in the introduction of fonts that helped to connect user
and machine.
Steve Jobs came to understand that innovation is just connecting stuff that isn’t naturally connected.
Calligraphy and a keyboard come together nicely if you happen to be building a
computer. Luggage and wheels combine for an easier trip through the airport.
The Founding Fathers and rap intersect, if you can score a ticket on Broadway.
A person gifted at seeing these unusual
connections is lucky. If you are like me, however, then having lots and
lots of things to connect is an advantage. In other words, constantly vacuuming
up knowledge about anything and everything that interests you--a liberal arts
perspective--can be the fuel for all kinds of innovation.
Liberal arts recognizes that the world is messy. There are
few equations that add up, fewer elegant proofs. Eli Whitney built a machine
that separated seed from cotton fifty-times faster than by hand—a STEM
breakthrough for the ages—but failed to deliver on his promise with a misread
of the Southern planter. Henry Ford engineered an orderly assembly process that
moved the world, only to miss the emergence of a disorderly consumer culture. Facebook--well, imagine if Facebook had a liberal arts perspective equal to its STEM brilliance?
Liberal arts is perfect training for an entrepreneur
destined to operate in a world of unreasonable customers, illogical
competitors, and uncertain markets.
Finally, from history to English to philosophy, liberal arts
is about storytelling. Economist Dan Kahneman reminds us that “No one ever made
a decision because of a number. They need a story.” Innovation may involve a
ton of serious STEM work, but inevitably arises from the need for a cracking
good story, one that people will embrace.
To paraphrase educator Henry Wriston, liberal arts prepares
you to answer the next question, the one that you have never been asked. And
entrepreneurship? Well, that’s about preparing to solve the next problem, the
one that you have never seen.
Happily, the solution to that unexpected problem might just
make you a little money.
My father and grandfather were mechanical engineers, my great-grandfather a civil engineer. My husband, my siblings, our daughters, and most of the in-laws all majored in one form or another of engineering, or computer science, or math. STEM is definitely in my blood.
ReplyDeleteFor much of my life I insisted that all schools really needed to teach was reading and math, because if you had those two skills, you could teach yourself anything. And yet, the more experience I get, and the more I observe the world around us, there's one subject I'd place higher in importance than any STEM program: history. Because I see where ignorance of history has led us.
Tom Friedman's argument used to be that Silicon Valley was where big dreams became reality and D.C. was where modest dreams went to die. Consequently, we needed more STEM. Eh. I could live with reading, math, and history as core subjects in the human curriculum.
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