This past May, I graduated from UBC with a BA in cognitive systems. The commencement itself provided me little closure with the time I spent at school; a transcript and degree being the final product of my time in Vancouver felt unrepresentative.
My dissatisfaction wasn't shared by all of my friends. Some did find the graduation ceremony to be a compelling conclusion to their studies. In most cases, they were in the sciences which have well-defined outcomes for what it means to have obtained a bachelor's in their respective fields. A BSc in neuroscience assumes a strong know-how of navigating the anatomy of the brain and their mechanisms. Likewise, a BASc in electrical engineering expects the ability to read, reproduce, and build upon electrical schematics. What, then, is the expectation for cognitive scientists?
I have read that bachelors degrees are often demanded by enterprise corporations not as a means for ensuring know-how, but as a means of validating one's ability to work within a hierarchy, understand their expectations, and operate autonomously to meet them. This explanation rings especially true for administration positions where bureaucratic work that is meant to be as fool-proof as possible can have deceptively high barriers for entry.
It may be true for some programs, but I see this being less applicable to cognitive systems. I was never presented a prototypical ideal cognitive scientist during my schooling. Due in part to the recency of the field's development, cornerstone figures within the space had stumbled into it after formal training in an adjacent discipline. I had no role models that paved the path for what I wanted out of my education for myself. The program was itself an edge case, even so far as existing under the oversight of a unique independent administrative body which (as the tales go) used to provide their students beers at social events - no questions asked.
So now, as I look back upon my schooling I have no choice but to draw my own narrative to digest what it has brought me. I have gathered many new perspectives while flipping between the arts and sciences and I would be remiss to not acknowledge them.
If I were forced to simplify all of it and compress it into a sentence I would say that my takeaway was learning how to learn. Especially at UBC where the undergraduate student body is around 40,000 and classes could reach upwards of 200 students, professors are guides and not tutors. It was up to me to fill in much of the material and develop methods to absorb theories in computer science, studies in psychology, and papers in philosophy. I did so, and more importantly, I learned how to enjoy doing so.
Having a high standard of rigor for academic comprehension of such a wide array of material led to the realization that curiosity can never be misplaced. Taking the time to consider self-evident ideas such as the purpose of intelligence or the verification of software integrity revealed unexpected nuances that demanded further attention. Recognizing this pattern has instilled within me a strong desire to learn, whatever the subject may be.
That being said, the biggest catalysts for my growth have consistently been outside of the classroom. It is through the friends I have met in Vancouver that I am provided an invaluable motivator to immerse myself in my education. I feel extremely grateful to have found a group of people who are inspired by the same things that inspire me. To hear what they have been thinking about or working on is to spur on my desire to continuously engage with the world. In return, I feel obliged to conduct my studies with discipline so I can volley their learnings with my own.
Beyond that, the ideas that they present me are often beyond what classes are in my domain. What I said about the value of interdisciplinary perspectives from my program are mirrored tenfold by friends who report on subject areas far beyond my wheelhouse. From them, I have been made privy to exciting new ideas and also new ways to get involved with beliefs. I cherry-picked their habits and hobbies to build into my life. Biking, rock climbing, sewing, printing, writing, and music mixing being examples that I would not explore with the same vigor if it weren't for their influences.
Through their invitations into their spaces, I have also realized the benefit of participating in communities. Identifying with a group of people with similar goals, especially via volunteering at one-off events or holding responsibilities in a larger organization, is a truly unparalleled psyche boost.
Now, to summarize, my greatest enlightenments are the stimulation of my curiosity and a desire to contribute to a greater discussion. Ah sure.
It feels reductivist and also silly in its blatancy, as if nothing was learned but merely inherited. But I think of myself in high school and how I felt like I understood where I was headed. I can't say I can really speak for that mindset again, but behaviorally it seemed like I was probably not headed towards all that much. I thought a lot about video games and how best to play them. I'm not disappointed that I didn't dream bigger and I really don't fault myself for not doing so since most of my growth has been spurred on by my environment instead of coming intrinsically. But looking back, I am hyperaware of my ignorance and naivety.
I write this article as a memento to elicit a similar effect years down the line. I have much to much learn and I look forward to it.