If the literary reference in the title escapes you, that’s okay. You’re just unfamiliar with the unyielding individualism of the protagonist — an unconventional college dropout architect and creative genius, Howard Roark, in the novel ‘The Fountainhead” by the controversial Russian-American writer and philosopher Ayn Rand.
Or maybe you’re balking at accepting that you’re not him and still don’t want to pursue the traditional path of accumulating credentials to make your mark in the world.
In a society obsessed with credentials, it’s a straightforward equation. Either you’ve got to flash your degrees to be the guy people listen to or you’ve got to be so unique that folks talk about you- just like Howard Roark who soon becomes the talk of town despite being shunned by the society. — (I am deliberately not mentioning your favorite self-taught tech giants or start-up billionaires despite being heralded as an exception to the norm).
Regardless, you’re playing the game of socially constructed expectations. It’s like there’s this unspoken rule: fit in by degrees or stand out in a way that grabs attention, but you’re still following the script society handed you. — a script that divides individuals into hierarchies that do not sometimes do justice to their full potential.
In the complex interplay of societal structures, the very mechanism that creates inequality can, ironically, be repurposed as a means to rise within the hierarchy. However, in this subversive transformation, a question emerges:
Does their ascent dismantle the structure or perpetuate it?
In the past, academic achievements were exclusive symbols of privilege, limited to the aristocracy or religious elite.
The emergence of universal education movements in the 19th and 20th centuries, driven by the Industrial Revolution, aimed to meet the demand for a skilled workforce replacing traditional approaches such as apprenticeships or on-the-job training. However, despite efforts to democratize and decentralize education, societal divisions persisted.
Because the utilitarian shift toward education as a means of societal advancement did not eliminate an unfair hierarchy. Instead, it gave rise to credentialism, which became so ingrained in our systems that it soon morphed into a complex web of qualifications dictating access to opportunities.
Credentialism has created a paradoxical situation where the very tool designed to provide equal opportunities, in fact, maintains a stratified structure within the society.
Now, credentials are considered prerequisites for entry into various professions and social strata, not because they demonstrate your skill or competence, but rather as a means of sorting individuals based on the perceived glamour of their alma mater because the worth and merit of each certificate, diploma, or degree are contingent upon the institution conferring it which aggravates existing social disparities with an illusion of meritocracy.
This is evident in the hiring practices where Ivy League, Russel Group, or Oxbridge graduates are often favored over equally qualified individuals from less prestigious institutions. This bias persists, even when there is no discernible difference in performance between someone who graduated from a top-tier university and someone from a lower-ranking one or with no formal education.
Despite the inherent flaw of credentialism, the relentless pursuit of degrees persists, especially with the increasing prevalence of Ph.D. qualifications.
Many find themselves unable to secure spots in prestigious institutions or meet the standards set by the typical job market, yet they still continue to stack up credentials.
Perhaps the reason is that the pursuit of credentials serves as a societal affirmation of one’s educational journey, irrespective of its direct relevance to job requirements, it’s not merely about securing a job but about acquiring a recognized identity validated within the societal framework via its symbolic significance.
This symbolic weight sometimes overshadows its practical value, instilling in individuals a sense of superiority rather than a heightened responsibility to contribute meaningfully to their respective fields.
This sentiment is also shared by an Islamabad-based writer and PhD professor of Medieval History at Quaid e Azam University, Dr. Fouzia Farooq.
Credentialism, in my view, nurtures a dangerous arrogance or a false sense of superiority. Contrary to its primary objective, the proliferation of higher education is exacerbating incompetence. This is detrimental to our society, as it reduces individuals to mere mechanical instruments whose sole purpose is to respond rigidly, adhering to predetermined standards of competence — a measure that supposedly establishes their superiority over others. All the while, it strips away the essence of genuine individuality and the true intent that education should embody.
The concern of a false sense of superiority highlights the pitfall of credentialism and appears to be a legitimate worry, as expressed by Dr. Farooq. Nevertheless, it is essential to acknowledge that this perceived superiority is not solely an individual flaw.
Instead, it might serve as a defense mechanism for the average person against a broader, unannounced, established unfair systemic attitude that exclusively welcomes those conforming to either of the two molds — whether it be gaining admission to prestigious universities or embodying Howard Roarkesque individualism.
However is there a third and less-traveled path for those caught in the dichotomy?
It appears so, and we owe it to the contemporary digital age. Establishing yourself as an expert in your chosen field no longer demands conformity to rigid standards of genius or formal qualifications.
In recent times, we’ve witnessed a surge in individuals wielding influence on social media, amassing followers and gaining popularity. I refer to those who share educational or skill-based content, positioning themselves as voices worth listening to.
Take, for instance, ‘Huztory, -History By Huzaifa ’ a 22-year-old documenting the lesser-known parts of Pakistan’s history, folklore, and cultures. Or consider ‘ContraPoints,’ Natalie Wynn, an American YouTuber, political commentator, and cultural critic who abandoned her PhD because the prospect of a lifelong academic pursuit became existentially draining.
It appears one can chart a course in life without traditional credentials, as the new credential is the collective recognition of your capabilities by followers. It urges us to reassess the genuine indicators of competence and innovation in our interconnected world.
Yet, this newfound path raises a crucial question about the authenticity of expertise. Does a substantial following inherently signify that you have an apt understanding of your field or is it merely a measure of popularity?
At times, it leans towards the latter — where a substantial following might reflect popularity more than expertise. Yet, it’s a realm without pre-set standards of competence. Here, you can carve your own path with stories to tell, skills to share, or ideas to illuminate. No need for credentials or a Howard-esque persona to be ‘the guy.’
