Next Steps, Including Positive Resolutions

“The world loves talent but pays off on character.” John W. Gardner
“A crisis is a terrible thing to waste.” Paul Romer

In early December 2015, I posted to this blog a rather lengthy essay on the future of the professions. Initially, I had thought that I would get a few comments, respond to those comments, and then move on to the next blog. Instead, I received several dozen substantive comments, many of them worthy of a response. And so, revising my plans, I instead posted a series of responses at two week intervals, each one keyed to a specific theme. Now, while this series of responses is coming to an end (although the blog will continue), I’m offering some general comments on what may lie ahead in the professions.

From one vantage point, it may seem that the need for traditional professionals is on the wane. I reject this conclusion. Indeed, I think that we need more better trained and more thoughtful professionals of the traditional sort, not fewer. But whatever the supply and demand for traditional professionals—physicians, lawyers, professors, engineers, architects, etc.—there is every reason to believe that in the future we will need new and better kinds of professionals. The world may be getting smaller, but populations are getting larger, individuals are living longer, careers are more varied, and norms from diverse cultures are abutting and all too frequently crashing one another. It will take a soul far more optimistic than mine to believe that these challenges will take care of themselves.

Far more likely, in my view, that individuals with new forms of knowledge and expertise will be needed. And, just as is the case in the current milieu, we’ll need to be able to separate the experts from the pseudo-experts and, of course, from the ever-lurking charlatans. We may need to invent new professions or radically reconfigure and re-combine the existing clutch. Just as examples, we may need individuals expert in translating across cultures, in dealing with new phases in the life cycle, and in balancing digital and offline lives. We will need to adjust to a situation where professionals move readily between their chosen profession and the entrepreneurial sector—and this fluidity, while attractive to the individual, may pose significant challenges for the society that must do the sorting. (Is she a doctor, or the head of a start up? Or both?)

Of course, despite these changes, individuals need not—indeed they should not—abandon the traditional values and orientations of the professions. They can elect to spurn the attractiveness of a high salary and glamorous living conditions in favor of a commitment to a modest existence in which their energies are directed toward the greatest needs of society. A sense of “calling” can be powerful.

Moving beyond individuals, we can expect challenges to those institutions that must provide a home to a rapidly changing set of characters. As Eric Liu puts it, we need to invent new entities that ensure civic responsibility, vouch for quality and integrity, and have a distinctive culture as well as shared rituals across the generations. And perhaps, as well, there may need to be the dawning of a new, shared consciousness—call it religious, spiritual, or political in the ancient classical sense of that term. (Let’s hope that we don’t need to wait until a global crisis for this to happen.)

Since I am an educator who has been associated with a school of education for almost fifty years, it is appropriate to ask about the role of education in the preservation of the professions, in the training of the professions, and across the life cycle. Young aspiring professionals need to know the traditional roots and values of their respective professions, while at the same time become knowledgeable about the new pressures and myriad opportunities associated with professional life in the 21st century. Well-crafted media presentations may be helpful—not only ones that portray the occasional hero or the occasional knave, but ones that capture professional lives in their fascinating and idiosyncratic complexity. No doubt, some of this knowledge, some of this understanding, can be obtained on the job and, perhaps, online.

That said, from my perspective, there is no ready substitute for a “liberal arts” introduction to the professions in general, and to one’s aspiring profession in particular—and that can and should remain central in schools of professional education. Such a professional education will be much easier to effect—and to effect well—if we preserve a traditional liberal arts education of three or four years before the launch of avowedly professional education.

This aspect of professional education, sometimes called values education, is one in which I believe. It is most effectively assimilated through contact with individuals who embody those values—whether those persons are self-employed, belong to a partnership, work for a corporation, or teach at a professional institution. Individuals moved by the arguments put forth here can and should serve as role models for aspiring professionals. That said, I also believe that reading key texts—especially ones devoted to ethical dilemmas and the ways in which they have and could be approached—and having the opportunity to discuss and debate these texts is a valuable and in fact an invaluable experience. Courses for undergraduates on the nature and the importance of the professions could balance the current mania for courses on business, finance, and entrepreneurship. I hope that, in a modest way, my original essay, the numerous thoughtful responses, and my series of ten postings can contribute to a needed “education in and for the aspiring professional.”

Thanks to commentators Anne Colby, William Damon, Laura Easley, James Hunter, Mia Keinanen, Mindy Kornhaber, Charles Lang, Harry Lewis, Eric Liu, Seana Moran, Amelia Peterson, Peter Sims, and Dennis Thompson.

This is the tenth and final post in a ten-part series in which I respond to the comments received regarding my essay “Is There a Future for the Professions? An Interim Verdict.”

Other Perspectives: A Global (as opposed to American) View

In one sense, my original essay on the future of the professions, as well as my commentary to the respondents, is quite parochial. My personal experience has been largely in the United States, with a smattering of knowledge of other countries and continents. Both the positive characterization of the professional landscape and the various threats that I’ve delineated may not be relevant to other parts of the world. Indeed, even the textures of pre-professional eras may be quite different; for example, it would be helpful to understand in which ways were Chinese mandarins like American professors, or shamans in traditional cultures like contemporary physicians, or leaders of ancient tribes like lawyers of today. Choose your pairings!

An associated question: what happened when the American or European versions of professions affected (or, if you prefer, invaded) other parts of the world? After the Second World War, American variants of law, medicine, and journalism became models for much of East Asia. But the transplants were not—and probably should not—have been en bloc. Indeed, when it comes to journalism, American latitudinarianism far exceeds that found in most other reportage systems. And then there is the question of co-operation across borders, which is much easier when the same norms apply between countries, but more often than not, they don’t. What journalists readily report on in the United States could lead to a legal suit or an arrest in other parts of the world.

Another consideration: when out-sourcing of jobs enters the picture, one confronts challenges of training, judging, and combining expertise from around the globe—or, more likely, the challenges that arise when those different kinds of expertise collide. For example, imagine the situation if practices that are illegal in the United States are handled by a service call station in India, Brazil, or China; if there is not a strict algorithm in place for each conceivable situation (if there were, why use human beings at all?), there is little reason to think that any arising issues will be solved in the way that they would be in the United States (or in Western European countries). And in the case of legal disputes, conclusions reached in extra-territorial centers might be considered invalid by conservative judges, who (like the late Associate Justice of the Supreme Court Antonin Scalia) argue that foreign legal systems should not even be consulted by American courts.

While acknowledging the legitimacy of the critique that I have touched upon only a part of the contemporary professional landscape, commentators from other countries have put forth more hopeful pictures. Gökhan Depo, a Turkish citizen living in Finland, points out monetary considerations are far less prevalent among professionals in Finland and that, in general, Finnish society is characterized by far less inequality. The occupational landscape is much flatter; the phrase “winner takes all” is alien to most of Finnish society. And Thijs Jansen, a scholar working in the Netherlands, reports that professionals there are mobilizing to sustain the core practices and values of their chosen vocation. Perhaps, contra Justice Scalia, we can learn from these northern European societies.

Thanks to commentators Gökhan Depo, Stephen Gardner, Thijs Jansen, and Norman Ornstein.

This is the ninth in a ten-part series in which I respond to the comments received regarding my essay “Is There a Future for the Professions? An Interim Verdict.” 

Disaggregating the Professions: General Comments

Among professionals who commented on my initial essay, lawyers were by far the most numerous; I’ve responded to some of their points in my previous post. Happily, there were also comments on the essay by representatives of different professions, as well as comments with respect to other professions. I am responding to these comments below.

-Though the so-called “minor” professions (such as teaching/social work) were mentioned in passing in the initial essay, I devoted most of my attention to the traditional professions. It’s important to stress that much of the most important and most needed work at the present time is carried out by teachers, nurses, and social workers—professionals who rarely garner the headlines but who are in the trenches every day. (I would include here those who have been trained to be ministers—though, nowadays, that term has been applied promiscuously to anyone behind any pulpit.) With respect to each of these professions, there are different stresses—for example, evaluation of teachers by their student test scores, pressures on nurses to work longer hours, issues of compensation for social workers as insurance policies change unpredictably, and ordained ministers competing with self-proclaimed gurus. These professionals deserve kudos for the remarkable jobs so many of them do, often against considerable odds.

In the short run, it seems unlikely that the status of any of these “minor” professions will be raised to that of the so-called “major” professions. Indeed, there will continue to be tensions with respect to abutting professions: nurses’ relations to physicians and physician assistants; social workers’ relations to psychiatrists and psychologists; teachers’ relations to their supervisors and to the local school boards and municipal officials. The more that the minor professions are given authority and autonomy, the more we can and should expect professionalism at a higher level. Indeed, more so than many in the major professions, members of minor processions are likely to evince a strong sense of calling—recalling the traditional “service strand” of the professions, rather than the more recent “expert strand.” But to the extent that they are treated as second class workers, or worse (for example, the way that public school teachers are villainized in many corners today), members of minor professions will not have the opportunity—and may cease to harbor a desire—to behave as professionals in the most admired sense of that term.

-It is possible that certain occupations may increase in professional status. One such profession is that of librarian. Once roughly equivalent to that of teacher, in a highly digital and connected world, librarians have seen their workload and their expertise valorized—and often they are now called “information specialists.” Like those technicians who handle servers, the role of librarians in the world today is considered far more important than in past years, and these workers have the opportunity—and perhaps also the obligation—to assume the role of major professional.

-Lines may also blur in other ways. An increasing number of professionals—and especially physicians—are gaining formal or informal training in business. These dual-trained professionals may elect to straddle these areas either because multiple expertise are needed or because they seek far greater control of their occupational situation. While this trend is understandable, it also raises what I’ve come to term the “two hats” problem. When the role of physician (focused on healing) collides with the role of corporate executive (balancing the books and growing profit margins), the individual is faced with a decision about which role is predominant.

-On my analysis, journalism has long been a quasi-profession, entailing for journalists the behaviors and ethos of full-blown professionals while neither requiring the training nor having the certifications of doctors, lawyers, or architects. Given powerful and fast- changing digital landscape, the role of journalist is more fragile and more disputed than before. Many observers would say that all of us are now journalists and disdain those who claim a special mantle in view of training or expertise. In my own view, however, journalists on whom one can rely over the long run will become increasingly valuable—though perhaps, alas, rare.

-While some would like to extend the term “professional” to cover the spectrum of occupations, I am conservative on this issue. I essentially did not discuss the military in the essay nor in subsequent posts, even though by most definitions it readily qualifies as a profession. Nor has there been discussion of politics—possibly because whatever professional sheen once characterized American political figures has long since disappeared. (I write during the months leading up to the presidential nominations of 2016.) I am well aware of efforts, over many years, to apply the label of “professional” to individuals in business, particularly managers and corporate leaders. But in my view, the only obligation of individuals in business is to obey the law and make a profit. Like any other individuals, businessmen and women can elect to behave in a highly professional way—but that election remains an option, not an occupational obligation.

Just as I do not consider business to be a profession, I don’t consider individuals engaged in sports or the arts to be professionals. Yet, as was pointed out by Laurie Brown, often artists have a much longer training—whether in art school or in the studio—than other professionals, and they deserve to be valorized for that dedication. The same point is true, of course, with respect to highly skilled athletes. We should note as well the many bona fide professionals who work in the arts or sports. We expect the doctor for the sports team to carry out her medical practice in a professional way; by the same token, we expect the teacher or the professor in an art school to live up to the expectations of the profession of educators.

-I found of special interest the comments about architecture from David Handlin. While artists are not considered professionals, architects lay claim to that descriptor. Reflecting on nearly a half century as an architect, Handlin points out that much of the traditional work of architects is now undertaken by a gaggle of experts, few of whom are themselves professionals. Moreover, the one trait that used to characterize all architecture—the ability (and, presumably, the desire) to draw—is now done by computers. What is left is leadership of the enterprise; much like the conductor coordinates the orchestra players, the architect coordinates the other experts and workers. And so, perhaps not surprisingly, the professional term architect has been ‘hijacked’ to apply to any individual whose job it is to lead or to orchestrate the contributions of a whole team (see also the less lofty term “curator,” also used promiscuously). So while the nature of the architect’s job has changed greatly, the status and importance of the role has been maintained. As Handlin says, in conclusion, “So, indeed, these are tumultuous times in the profession, but there will always be architecture.”

-I leave the final word to a philosopher who sent me a private message. He quipped that as a member of “the second oldest profession,” he felt his practice was unlikely to be disrupted either by monetary seductions or ubiquitous apps.

Thanks to commentators Pat Barry, Steven Brint, Laurie Brown, Thomas Ehrlich, David Handlin, Jason Kaufman, Joan Miller, Rick Miller, Terry Roberts, Peter Sims, and Wendy Woon.

This is the eighth in a ten-part series in which I respond to the comments received regarding my essay “Is There a Future for the Professions? An Interim Verdict.”

Disaggregating the Professions: Comments on the Law

When I released my original essay on the future of the professions, I was very pleased to receive comments from individuals representing a wide array of professional domains. I was surprised—though, to be frank, not that surprised—that so many of the comments came from lawyers.

I comment here on issues raised specifically by lawyers or by others about the law. (In the next blog, I’ll survey some other professions and non-professions.)

-Law is not a monolith. Roles range from prosecutor to defense lawyer; from corporate ranks to self-employed; from full-time practitioner to teacher to judge; from general practitioner to highly specialized technician. Equally diverse are the clients: individuals; small businesses; non-profits; huge corporations; municipalities; nations; even international courts that purport to represent all of mankind. Any thorough study of the legal profession needs to take into account the attributes, needs, and resources available to individuals wearing these different legal garbs.

-Legal training often does not lead to the practice of law. Even those individuals who are sought after by elite firms may elect to go into business, politics, real estate, or other vocations. And while engaged in these other realms, individuals may or may not draw on their law expertise or even indicate that they have legal training and (if so) whether they have passed the bar.

-There is a huge disjunction between two groups: 1) Well-compensated lawyers who work in “white-shoe” firms for well-resourced clients or corporations; and 2) The far larger number of lawyers who are solitary practitioners or work in small partnerships and who often struggle to make ends meet.

-Despite the aforementioned subdivisions of the law and of legal practice, we cannot conclude that one group of lawyers is more or less likely than the others to behave in a professional (or non-professional) way. There are highly ethical corporate lawyers, litigators, and small-town general practitioners; but there are also members of each of these groups who cut every corner that they can and who may ultimately lose their licenses to practice law or even be sent to jail. As one commentator suggested, instead of regulating lawyers per se, perhaps one should regulate the delivery of legal services, however they are carried out.

-There is today a massive misalignment between where lawyers most want to practice (location, type of practice) and where lawyers are most needed. While attempts have been made to realign supply and demand (e.g. by relieving law school debt for lawyers who enter public service), such options have not succeeded in significantly ameliorating a troubling national (and perhaps global) predicament.

-Lawyers (including those who commented on my essay) disagree with one another about the extent to which, and the ways in which, their work can be handled by paraprofessionals or by software programs. They also disagree about the extent to which the law valorizes logical reasoning, as opposed to human relationships and wise counsel. Some deplore the inbred nature of legal language and reasoning, while others take pride in highly-honed expertise. But nearly all agree that, with respect to the most complicated cases, human judgments by well-trained legal minds are at a premium. And in many cases, a combination of initial software products, then judged and nuanced by trained lawyers, seems the optimal route.

-Recognizing these various points, it remains the case that there is a central tension in the practice of law and in our legal system: does one defend one’s client(s) in every way possible, or does one exercise some restraint—either because of the legal creed one has sworn to uphold or because of one’s personal value system? Other professions are not characterized by so sharp a conflict.

The many valuable distinctions and points made by lawyers underscore the complexity of any professional terrain.

Thanks to commentators Eric Blumenson, Harry Lewis, Edward Montgomery, Eva Nilsen, Sean Palfrey, Andrew Perlman, and “Young Lawyer.”

This is the seventh in a ten-part series in which I respond to the comments received regarding my essay “Is There a Future for the Professions? An Interim Verdict.”

Revisiting the Arguments of Richard and Daniel Susskind

I decided to launch this blog late in the summer of 2015. One of the catalysts was a book called The Future of the Professions bv Richard Susskind and Daniel Susskind, a father (lawyer)-son (economist) team who live and work in England. The book was not yet published in the US, but I had received an advance copy.

The book is highly informative and in many ways fascinating. It is also provocative, and not surprisingly I disagreed with several of its key claims. Some months later, when I decided to write a lengthier essay on the same topic, I devoted part of my discussion to a brief summary of their argument and mentioned some of my misgivings.

Any doubts that I may have had about the power of the Internet were dispelled when, barely a week later, I received a note from the Susskinds themselves. Though we did not know one another, they had apparently learned of my critique through social media. They were making a trip to the United States—their book was now available in the US as well as the UK—and they expressed the hope that we could meet. My wife Ellen and I invited them to our home for brunch. Richard and Daniel turned out to be delightful guests, and we discovered many ideas, experiences, and persons whom we had in common.

Our conversation over bagels and lox also helped me to understand better our areas of agreement and disagreement. It is hard to dispute their point that digital technologies (e.g. powerful apps that can do one’s taxes or suggest an appropriate medical diagnosis and treatment) can make available a degree of expertise that ordinary individuals all over the world could not afford to hire and might not even be able to access. Indeed, various apps help almost everyone, while others are especially helpful to those who cannot afford the high fees charged by professionals in law, medicine, and other high-status occupations. I also agree with their point that many professionals—we talked particularly about individuals in law and accounting—are best thought of as business people whose loyalty now is directed toward the profitability of their respective companies and not, alas, to the founding values of their profession.

It’s important to separate the following questions:

1.) Are the predictions of the Susskinds likely to come to pass?

2.) If they do materialize, should we be pleased or distressed?

As to the first question, the Susskinds have made a convincing case that many if not all existing professions will be fundamentally disrupted by the powerful new technologies that have emerged in the past few decades. These technologies will make it possible, at a fraction of the present cost, for ordinary persons to have access to knowledge and services that until now were available only from other human beings (called professionals), who typically charged large sums for their services. It’s not clear which vendors will provide these services and whether these vendors will be reliable and trustworthy, but there is little doubt that the services will be widely available and frequently accessed.

It is by no means clear whether these trends will abolish all present and all conceivable future professions or instead lead to the creation of new professions. As an example, while they are not yet dubbed as professionals, technology specialists—such as those who control servers—have tremendous power, possibly amplified by the fact that their identities are currently largely unknown. It is conceivable that the rise of cyber-society will introduce a whole new set of professions and professionals who manage data, algorithms, hardware, software, privacy, and the like.

Also, as I argue in my original essay, not only are we unable to predict the effectiveness of various digital entities; we also cannot predict the kinds of problems and possibilities that may arise within and across nations. Issues ranging from climate change to digital warfare to the migration of huge populations to the lengthening of the life span may require all sorts of new human expertise which could well congeal into new professions.

It is also possible that, if most ordinary work comes to be done by digital entities, more attention will be directed toward creative activities, particularly in the arts, and to new and complex face-to-face social interactions among human beings. Both spheres could conceivably spawn new forms of professional expertise.

Turning to the second question, I’m persuaded that many individuals, particularly those without means to purchase expensive services from other human beings, will be better off obtaining those services from various technologies. In this sense, I am a utilitarian—the greatest good for the greatest number.

But I continue to have other concerns. First of all, human society has always depended upon work—the sweat of the human brow of the laborer as well as the furrowing of the brow of the professional. It’s not clear that, as a species, we will easily come up with an acceptable substitute. (I believe that the Susskinds share this worry.)

Second, I worry about who will be designing these platforms, apps, and technologies, who will “own” them, whether the designers and their products can be depended on (indeed, whether they’ll behave in a professional manner!), and what happens should the various new technologies point users in opposite directions… is there a “master” algorithm to consult? As the Romans put it, “Quis custodiet ipsos custodies?” (“Who will guard the guardians?”) Perhaps there are advantages to “muddling through,” a process that will be lost in a completely digitized society.

Finally, and this is central to the theme of a blog called “The Professional Ethicist,” the true professional—even though she may be rare and getting rarer—represents a remarkable human achievement. I stand in awe of individuals who devote years to mastering an area and use their expertise to serve others in a disinterested way, over a long period of time, without much attention to personal wealth or prestige or power, and then seek to transmit expertise and exemplary values to younger acolytes. I want to live in a world where it still matters to say of someone, “She is a real professional!”

I close by thanking Richard Susskind and Daniel Susskind for their exemplary collegiality. They kindly accepted an invitation to speak at the American Philosophical Society, and I am likely to be a commentator. Conversations central to this blog are likely to continue for some time to come.

This is the sixth in a ten-part series in which I respond to the comments received regarding my essay “Is There a Future for the Professions? An Interim Verdict.”