What’s the point of going to uni? It’s a question I’m still asking (2024)

What’s the point of going to university, people ask. It’s a question I’m still asking.

According to the promotional pages of our most prestigious institutions, universities are an opportunity to come into contact with both “knowledge” and “experience”, somewhere that will “stimulate you to think differently and solve problems beyond your imagination” (ANU), be part of a “vibrant student community” (UNSW), part of “a vibrant international community” (Monash) where you can “discover your passions and strengths” (Melbourne) and ultimately become someone who can “think critically and creatively, solve problems and show leadership” (Adelaide).

In other words, university is nourishing for both your social life and your soul; like your veggies, it’s good for you.

Signing yourself into the cohort of Australian society with a degree means you will, by and large, live longer, be healthier and – as every university is quick to emphasise – get a job. You’ll receive a “career-focused education”(UNSW), “develop your employability” (UQ), “be in high demand” (Adelaide) and, finally, you will “graduate with the confidence to launch straight into your career” (Melbourne). It’s not for nothing, after all, that the last major overhaul of federal education policy was named the “Job-Ready Graduates Package”.

In my case, I went to university for no reason better than it seemed to be the done thing. I was raised by parents who had enjoyed bounteous education, courtesy of Gough Whitlam. I had gone to school with people who thought tertiary education was something to be admired, and I promptly found my way onto a campus. What surprised me, when I actually arrived, was how pointless the whole thing seemed.

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Of course, thinking something is pointless isn’t the same as it really being so. A speech I gave in year 7, for example, did not have any bearing on the rest of my life, but I still cried after I got a bad mark for it. All through my time at high school, there was a clear mentality that things mattered, no matter how dull they were: study hard, do well in exams, get good marks, get a shiny ATAR and set up that mythical thing known as “your future”.

But, somehow, I wound up in circ*mstances a long way from a vocational beeline: an arts degree. Here was a foreign scenario where I no longer knew what everyone’s marks were, or even if my marks were any good. (I soon discovered that university tutors are harsher than your high school teachers.) What’s more, these marks didn’t matter. Most of my time was spent sitting around classrooms discussing obscure books and esoteric ideas. It didn’t matter if you agreed; it didn’t even matter if you did the readings – at least half the people in my courses didn’t. You would leave the place with a degree just the same.

What is frustrating on one level is liberating on another – you’re not bound to any immediate purpose, so you can just follow your interests as far as they take you. Much of my final year at uni was spent trying to get my head around the philosophy of Ludwig Wittgenstein. This was not, by any reasonable definition, useful: a working knowledge of a philosophical theory is not something you flash on your CV, and Wittgenstein himself would routinely exhort his students to quit academic life for something more meaningful, like working on a farm. Still, I got pleasure out of this academic game, trying to figure out something that was deeply fascinating, being guided by a brilliant, generous professor, and without a need to worry about how this translated into practical existence.

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There are no such playgrounds in the post-university world: working life sets up its own strict parameters, leaving little room for your own curiosity. Even journalism needs to be useful. The media has been obsessed with Taylor Swift this year. It’s only reasonable: the attention she receives is a response to the cultural and economic centre of gravity she represents. But I still found it faintly ridiculous that Melbourne hosted the first “Swiftposium” this year – a major academic conference dedicated to the study of the pop star. Of course it makes sense to study her. Of course it is useful. But the beauty of being at a university is, to my mind, the luxury of being able to spend time and energy thinking about things that don’t have any better motivation than your own interest.

So, along with the tried and true of university life – meet new people, try new things, figure out who you want to be – enjoy this intellectual luxury and spend the time thinking about things for no other reason than because you want to. You can worry about what’s useful later.

Flynn Shan Benson is a recent graduate in international politics and English from the University of Sydney. He won the 19-24 age category in the Herald’s inaugural essay competition for young writers with his essay about language and power titled Our Language; Or, How to Say Shibboleth in an Australian Accent.

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