The relevance of the humanities in today’s market-driven, consumerist world often feels like a topic for niche conversations at academic conferences and boardroom meetings—hardly a pressing concern in the everyday rush of life. Yet, the debate about whether the humanities are worth the time and money continues to simmer.
Literature departments across the globe are either shutting down or morphing into cultural studies with a tilt toward the social sciences. The closure of the English literature degree at Canterbury Christ Church University, in a city home to Chaucer and Marlowe, is just one stark example. While the acronym STEM occasionally flirts with becoming STEAM—adding ‘arts’ into the mix—the humanities are often treated as expendable luxuries in the quest for technological and economic dominance.
What has led to this? Let’s start with the obvious: job opportunities. STEM and management programmes have marketed themselves as gateways to high-paying careers. The humanities, by contrast, often suffer from a reputation problem. Ask a high school student what they’ll do with a philosophy or literature degree, and they will likely hear, “So, you want to be a teacher?” The perception that the humanities lead to limited, ill-defined or unattractive careers has cemented the bias. It doesn’t help that in a world obsessed with immediate returns, the value of a humanities education—critical thinking, ethical reasoning, empathy—is harder to quantify.
But let’s ask ourselves: can we really imagine a world where literature, history, philosophy and the arts cease to exist? What would such a world look like? For one, it would be profoundly shallow. The humanities teach us to question, reflect and see the world through others’ eyes. Imagine navigating life without the ethical frameworks philosophy offers or the nuanced understanding of human struggles that literature provides. Imagine cities without music, art or architecture shaped by cultural heritage. Imagine technology unmoored from ethical considerations. It’s not an exaggeration to say such a world would be bleak and dehumanised.
The irony is that while humanities departments are closing, the skills they teach have never been more relevant. In an era of fake news, polarised debates and polycrisis, the ability to think critically, communicate effectively and understand diverse perspectives is indispensable. Even in the corporate world, companies are waking up to the value of ‘soft skills’, which, let’s face it, aren’t so soft after all. Google’s own research has shown that skills like communication, empathy and critical thinking are as crucial as technical expertise for team success.
So why does the bias persist? Partly, it’s about visibility. STEM and management studies promise tangible, measurable outcomes: a sleek app, a new drug and a quarterly profit margin. The humanities, by contrast, often operate in subtler, more abstract realms. Their contributions—a well-crafted essay, a thought-provoking play, an ethical argument—do not always translate easily into the language of metrics and market value. This makes it easy for policymakers to sideline them when budgets are tight.
But dismissing the humanities as impractical or irrelevant is a mistake that risks impoverishing not just individuals, but society as a whole. The humanities and STEM are not opposites; they are complementary. Technological innovation without ethical grounding can lead to catastrophic consequences. Conversely, the humanities thrive when they engage with the challenges and possibilities of a changing world, incorporating insights from science and technology to address questions of human meaning and purpose.
What can we do to revive interest in the arts and humanities? First, we need to reframe the narrative. Instead of apologising for their supposed impracticality, let’s celebrate the humanities as foundational to human flourishing. Universities and educators can play a role by showcasing the diverse careers available to humanities graduates—journalism, law, public policy, cultural management, and even roles in tech companies where ethical reasoning and communication are in demand.
Partnerships between humanities programmes and industries could also help bridge the gap, offering students practical experiences that demonstrate the relevance of their skills. Second, let’s make the humanities engaging for younger generations. This means updating curriculums to address contemporary issues—climate change, artificial intelligence and social justice—through the lens of literature, history, and philosophy. It also means embracing digital tools to reach wider audiences, breaking the perception that the humanities are confined to dusty libraries and ivory towers.
Finally, as a society, we must resist the temptation to measure everything by its market value. Not every pursuit needs to result in a product or profit. The humanities remind us of what it means to be human, to grapple with the big questions of life and death, love and loss, justice and freedom. That reminder is more urgent than ever in a world dominated by algorithms and automation.
So, the next time someone asks, “What’s the point of humanities?” perhaps the best answer is another question: “What kind of world do you want to live in?” Because the humanities are not just about studying the past; they are about shaping the future. And that future belongs to all of us.
(Views are personal)
(johnjken@gmail.com)
John J Kennedy | Professor and Dean, Christ (Deemed) University, Bengaluru