Shakespeare vs. STEM
Finding God at Work in a Liberal Arts Education
About the author: Nancy J. Duff is the Stephen Colwell Associate Prof. of Christian Ethics, Emerita at Princeton Theological Seminary. She taught Christian Ethics at Princeton Seminary for 25 ½ years before retiring in December 2020. She published a book on death and dying titled Making Faithful Decisions at the End of Life (Westminster John Knox, 2018) and recently co-edited a book of Paul Lehmann's essays with Ry O. Siggelkow and Brandon K. Watson, The Revolutionary Gospel: Paul Lehmann and the Direction of Theology Today (Lexington/Fortress, 2022). She has served on the Ethics Committee at Penn Medicine Princeton Medical Center for over 25 years and is ordained in the Presbyterian Church (USA).
Last February, The New Yorker illustrated an essay titled “The End of the English Major” with an animated bust of Shakespeare whose eyes moved back and forth in fear, looking at four images representing science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM). Apparently, even students who love literature are not majoring in English, but in fields they believe will lead to better jobs. Although it is a misconception that liberal arts majors are unemployable, for 15 years politicians across the board have argued against government funding for liberal arts, expressing disdain for courses not explicitly tailored to the job market. Also, an increasing number of universities support programs such as computer science, business, and nursing, while reducing funding for departments of history, English, philosophy, the arts, and religion, essentially turning themselves into vocational schools focused on professional training. The phrase, “Shakespeare vs. STEM,” represents dominant attitudes about higher education in the US.
I experienced a hint of the perceived rivalry between the humanities and science in 1997 when I was asked to write an opinion piece for the Washington Post on the scientific breakthrough of cloning Dolly, an adult sheep. After handing in my first draft, the editor urged me to stand more forcefully against cloning, which made me wonder if she was encouraging the scientist, who was also writing on Dolly, to argue more forcefully in favor of cloning. Apparently, it was more appealing to have the Christian theologian adamantly opposed to cloning and the scientist adamantly in favor than the nuanced opinions we each provided. I believe a liberal arts education provides an unexpected place to find God at work “here and now” because it encourages conversation rather than rivalry between the humanities and science - a conversation that both civil society and the church need.
Karl Barth’s understanding of theology as a discipline supports this conversation. Barth argued that theology must be considered a science in its own right, never allowing its method and goal to be determined by any other discipline.1 Rather than resulting in the isolation of theology, I believe Barth’s insistence on its independence means that theology can with integrity put itself in conversation with other disciplines. And because science can neither prove nor disprove the tenets of the Christian faith, if Christians become nervous that a scientific discovery challenges their faith, the fault lies not with science, but with their theology.
When examining a new scientific breakthrough, such as the cloning of an adult sheep, Christians need to understand the facts of that breakthrough before making pronouncements regarding its morality. According to Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a wise person “will seek to obtain the greatest possible information about the course of events,” but without becoming wholly dependent on factual knowledge. Wisdom requires us to recognize “the significant within the factual” as we seek to look into “the depth of things.”2 I believe we can define the significant in the factual in three ways: (1) insight into the human condition in furtherance of human well-being; (2) seeking the truth; (3) finding beauty.
The first meaning of the significant in the factual (understanding and promoting human well-being) is, I believe, the most important. Paul Lehmann believed that as divine revelation breaks into the world and makes a space where human beings can thrive, Christians are called to live in a way that “makes and keeps human life human.”3 Of course, the human condition and human well-being cannot be addressed apart from concern for the whole of creation and all that lives in it. For example, when we look for the significant within the facts of global warming, we look for how to sustain human and animal life as well as vegetation that is being destroyed by unnaturally high temperatures.
Second, finding the significant in the factual means looking for the truth. Shakespeare’s character, Falstaff, in Part I of King Henry the IV, asks a question that seems to be self-evident: “Is not the truth the truth?”4 But since that question is asked by a despiser of the truth, by one who revels in lies, his words are equivalent to Rudy Giuliani’s claim that "truth isn't truth" and to Kellyanne Conway drawing on “alternative facts” to support an argument. In our time, truth is increasingly defined as that which can be manipulated to support what one already believes, rather than being consistent with facts. The critical thinking encouraged by a liberal arts education is necessary for uncovering and protecting the truth. Christians, of course, find ultimate truth in the trinitarian God, but this is not just some otherworldly truth. The incarnation means that God is present in the “here and now,” and so we look for the concreteness of truth in “this place of time and space and things.”5
Finally, the significant in the factual includes beauty. Calvin argued that God adorned the birds in various colors and gave food a variety of tastes for our enjoyment. We can, he said, enjoy the beauty of the colors in the way we dress and we can enjoy the taste of food, always, of course, within the bounds of moderation, a qualification that seems appropriate given the disparity between those who can fully enjoy creation and those with little access to its beauty or bounty.6 Beauty can also be found in disciplines represented by STEM. For instance, on those rare occasions when I understood how to solve a mathematical problem, I found it exhilarating and recognized beauty in the numbers. And, of course, knowing how numbers work is necessary for understanding the human condition and enhancing human life. Furthermore, Sarah Hart, a mathematician, says that literature needs math. According to her, not only did Herman Melville employ mathematical metaphors in Moby-Dick, “Leo Tolstoy writes about calculus, James Joyce about geometry. Fractal structure underlies Michael Crichton’s ‘Jurassic Park’ and algebraic principles govern various forms of poetry.”
Christians can find God at work in liberal arts education because by promoting both the humanities and STEM, such education helps us understand how to promote human well-being, recognize the truth, and appreciate beauty. I hope the church as well as other religious and secular institutions will support liberal arts education and change the suspicion represented by the phrase, “Shakespeare vs. STEM,” into a productive and humanizing conversation represented by “Shakespeare and STEM.”
Karl Barth, “The Task of Dogmatics,” in The Doctrine of the World of God, Church Dogmatics I.I (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1975), especially, 3–11.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Ethics, Dietrich Bonhoeffer Works 6 (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 2005), 81.
Paul Lehmann, Ethics in a Christian Context, (New York: Harper & Row, 1963), 14. This phrase is found throughout his work. See also: Paul Lehmann, The Transfiguration of Politics (New York: Harper & Row, 1975), 23 and 58.
William Shakespeare, The First Part of King Henry the IV, Act II, Scene IV, The Histories of William Shakespeare, Vol. One (New York: The Modern Library, 1953), 187.
Paul Lehmann often invoked this phrase. See for instance, Lehmann, Transfiguration of Politics, 230.
John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, III.X.2 (Philadelphia, PA: Westminster Press, 1960).