The Rise of Credentialism

It seems ironic to pair the Death of Expertise with the Rise of Credentialism. But interestingly as the public’s trust in experts is falling, the search for credentials – that perhaps signal expertise – is ballooning. There is plenty of punditry as to why this is happening. (Yes, everyone is an “expert” when it comes to airing one’s opinions!) The internet is of course blamed on the one hand, while at the same time entrepreneurial folks are moving in to colonize the space of digital credentialism. The prophets of Disruption warn us that old-school credentials will give way to new credentials in the new economy. Which new credentials will triumph is unclear.

In the meantime old-school credentials seem to count for less. Where previously a high school diploma might suffice, the college diploma is touted (by universities, of course) as the gateway to jobs and upward mobility. Today’s job market “system” has certainly made it much more difficult for those without some college education. Even an Associate’s Degree is counting for less as Bachelor’s Degree holders proliferate. The piece of paper that is your diploma gets your foot in the door. But why? What does the diploma signify? Does it say something about your ability to be employed in a particular area? Or is it a proxy for some less defined “skill” set employers value? Or perhaps a proxy for socialized standing in society?

My B.A. in Chemistry is from a small selective liberal arts college. While it’s not one of the more famous names, it is well-known in academic circles – and likely helped me significantly when I applied to graduate school. The degree signifies, hopefully, that I have some knowledge of chemistry – or at least I had to take a bunch of chemistry classes to successfully complete a major. My transcript of mostly A’s and B’s might signal that I was at least good-to-excellent at the subject matter (or that I was successful at taking exams testing my knowledge). My degree is certified by the American Chemical Society, which signifies that I completed the requirements of an accrediting body in my discipline.

My Ph.D. in Chemistry indicates, somewhat nebulously, that I was successful at completing original research in my field – at least in a narrow sub-discipline of chemistry. Outside of academia, I’m not sure who cares about what exactly I did, given that my graduate studies were at an “elite” institution. This, perhaps more than anything else, gets my foot in the door in many ways. But it’s a proxy of sorts. I might have been mediocre in my studies, but hardly anyone would bother to check. No one (outside of academia) bothers about my Bachelor’s degree either. And there may come a time when the job market is so saturated with Bachelor’s degree-holding applicants that a graduate degree becomes the new entry-level credential. The proliferation of new Masters (and some doctoral) programs in the last ten years is astounding – many of which can be completed online. A Masters in CyberSecurity is the new hot diploma. And yes, my institution offers one too.

Chemistry and CyberSecurity conjure in one’s mind the idea of a tangible skill set that applies to particular areas – the chemical and information-technology industries. Degrees attached to a commonly-known profession – medicine, engineering, law, accounting – have more obvious entryways into the job market, and by presumption upward mobility. But what about other “liberal arts” subjects? Proponents of a liberal arts education (and I would be one of them) can rehearse the spiel about critical thinking, writing and communicative skills, and adaptability to jobs of the future. I’m not going to do so in this blog post. Instead, I want to ponder a darker topic: Is the “industry” of higher education one of the main “drivers” for the Rise of Credentialism?

As I was recently thinking about Arms Races in higher education, I decided to re-read an older article (i.e. from 15 years ago) titled “Credential Inflation and the Rise of Universities”. The author, Randall Collins, a sociologist and professor tackles this topic head-on. (The article can be found in The Future of the City of Intellect: The Changing American University.) Here’s the abstract:

“Most problems of the contemporary university are ultimately connected to the process of credential inflation. The inflation of educational credentials that drove university expansion throughout the 20th century shaped the internal structure of universities as well, and thus the conditions of academic work. We will need this broader viewpoint in order to capture the main dynamics which have driven the proliferation of academic disciplines, as well as their internal differentiation into specialties and their compulsion to continuous research. If the fundamental versus applied character of the disciplines are at issue in today’s university, as well as the growing distance between a highly paid elite of noted researchers and a professorial underclass of temporary lecturers, the causes are in the economic strains of a system whose mass production of educational credentials for employment has become extremely expensive.”

Collins emphasizes the main point that credential inflation feeds on itself. The main dynamic is that “a given level of education at one time gave access to elite jobs. As educational attainment has expanded, the social distinctiveness of that degree and its value on the occupational marketplace has declined; this in turn has expanded demand for still higher levels of education.” Collins traces the history of this expansion through its various cycles. He also argues that the evidence points to credential inflation being mainly driven by the supply side. Essentially the U.S. educational system grows to flood the market for whatever level of labor is needed. This is certainly true in my profession as a college professor, as we see the adjuntification of faculty continuing apace. Even in the high-tech world, much that is cutting-edge is learned on the job. While the employer “demand” side of the equation makes the news, Collins argues that its contribution is small compared to the supply side.

Fifteen years ago, Collins predicted that “with future computerization and automation… routine middle class jobs will disappear (just as skilled and semi-skilled manual jobs have greatly diminished) leaving an even bigger gap between a small technical/managerial/financial elite and everyone else.” This is certainly the case today, and will likely accelerate as we are trapped in a technological system. To deal with the displaced labor force, higher education and credentials step in, serving as a “hidden welfare system” in the form of work-study arrangements, student loans, etc. “But the warehousing also keeps up the supply of education credentials, reinforcing the first process”, Collins argues.

What’s worse is that as folks with higher credentials enter the workforce, especially in the high-tech economy, they tend “to redefine their jobs and to eliminate non-[similarly]-credentialed jobs around them.” Thus, the vicious cycle continues. Reinforcing the ideology of education isn’t just politically favorable, with its overtones of democratic equal opportunity, it helps a cadre of professors to attain the “sponsorship that allows those of us who are interested in so doing to concern ourselves with the production of knowledge and the enjoyment of high culture. Credential inflation is the dirty secret of modern education; if everyone admitted it publically… it would force us to face head on the issue of class inequality and indeed growing class inequality.” The last several years have certainly brought such discussions to the forefront – although it is muddled, and full of opined punditry. Collins goes into detail in his area of expertise as a sociologist. (If you’re interested, I recommend reading the article in full.)

It’s a sobering thought that tenure-line professors like myself are partly to blame for the present situation. Collins makes a case that research-driven sub-specialization is a contributing factor. (I’ve previously blogged about how sub-specialization affects curricular choices, thereby shaping the classes students take in college.) Honestly, I’m not sure what to do about it. The ecosystem of education, jobs, and dreams of a better life, is a gargantuan interlocked beast. Sometimes I feel like a cog in the machine, stuck in the system.

The culture of Assessment has led to the slicing up of acquired knowledge and skills. Not surprisingly, this has led to a push for micro-credentials and digital badges to signal some acquired skill. Even the Boy Scouts, the organization of old-school badging, have digital badges. Here’s the “digital citizen staged activity badge” and its requirements.

I am not a fan of digital badging and micro-credentials. My pessimistic view is that one of the reasons for their proliferation is to make the job easier for Human Resource bots to weed out job applicants. This will lead to humans attempting to “game” the system, thus proliferating next-generation credentialism, and the vicious cycle continues. The proponents of digital micro-credentials will tout its democratic equal opportunity values, but I’m inclined to agree with Collins that the larger effect will be to further increase the gap between the haves and have-nots. Yes, there will be a handful of anecdotal rags-to-riches stories that illustrate the possibility of upward mobility with the new world of digital access and opportunity. Fanning the flames of hope is a time-worn tactic of profiteers. That’s why we still have pyramid schemes in various guises.

I’m reminded that it is crucially important for academics not to be ensconced in their ivory towers. In The Death of Expertise, Tom Nichols exemplifies one route in playing his role as a public intellectual. My professorial life has mainly been about teaching and training students to have a love of chemistry and hopefully a love of lifetime learning. But perhaps should I be doing more beyond the handfuls of students that I personally encounter.