Why Aren't More Engineers Graduating From Our Colleges?

The missing engineer?

 There has been handwringing in the media lately about why our colleges and universities are not producing more STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Math) majors as well as about the dearth of female engineers in Silicon Valley.  Having an engineering degree myself, a husband with an engineering degree, a son who has just completed an engineering degree, a daughter who is considering an engineering degree, a sister who is an engineer, a brother-in-law who is an engineer, friends who teach engineering, and being an advisor to a young woman who is interested in medical school but is not afraid of math or science, the difficulty of attracting and retaining STEM majors has been nagging at me.

First off, not all STEM majors are equally in demand on the job front. Over the years I’ve known many brilliant physicists unable to find a job in their field, and biology majors (the major of choice for pre-meds) currently appear to be in oversupply. What is in demand right now are grads with degrees in computer science, mechanical engineering and electrical engineering. Other forms of engineering also reliably lead to jobs, and math majors report hiring success although their job title  is unlikely to be “mathematician.”

So why don’t more American kids go into engineering if that’s where the jobs are?  In my observation, there are a number of reasons:

1.) Follow the money. Engineering is considered less prestigious than medicine, law, and business, and less likely to lead to a high income, regardless of current starting salaries for engineers. Like it or not, medicine especially has more cachet with top students and their parents which mean talent flows endlessly in that direction.

2.)  Engineering is hard. It’s not just that the material is conceptually difficult. There are many kids who could make it through engineering curriculum that get shunted away because:

a.)  Engineering schools are notorious for much harsher grading than humanities and sciences. (Average grades range from ½ to almost a full letter grade lower.)

b.)  Engineering schools are notorious for their incredibly heavy workloads. Getting a degree in engineering means cramming 5 – 6 years of normal college workload into 4. The result is the average engineer has less free time and less fun than the average humanities major. Engineers will tell you their classes are twice as hard as humanities classes for half the units. In fact, most upper-class engineers regale prospective frosh engineers with horrific stories about their workload and how easy "fuzzies" (non-techies) have it, their tales punctuated by bitter laughter.

c.)  Engineering schools require tortuous engineering breadth courses, mostly because whoever designed the curriculum took them so you should, too. But it's pointless. The amount of knowledge I retained a month after my circuits, material science or aero-astro engineering classes I could’ve picked up from a few hours of watching Discovery Channel. (Oh, the needless suffering. My statics class, on the other hand, was actually interesting, potentially useful, and not too bad.)

d.)  Because of the heavy course load, engineers have to start taking the engineering core courses freshman year and dive heavily into their major sophomore year. While one can decide to major in English or political science spring of sophomore year without problem, beginning engineering spring of sophomore year would make graduating on time nearly impossible.  Leisurely dabbling and taking time to make up one’s mind is not a luxury engineers have.

3.)  Engineering schools at state universities often severely limit the available slots making it both very hard to get in and very hard to switch majors if a kid later decides another form of engineering would suit him/her better.  (In California, for example, many, many qualified kids are turned away from the engineering schools at the UC’s and the Cal Poly’s.)

4.) High GPAs are extremely important in law and medical school admissions.  In addition law and medical school admissions committees seem to place little value on engineering and the analytical thought process it develops.  This results in law and medical schools refusing to cut engineers much GPA slack in their admissions processes. So anyone thinking they might, in the entire course of their life, ever apply to law or medical school takes an enormous risk to major in a field that produces notoriously low GPAs. At Stanford, for example, fully 1/3 of freshmen enter as pre-med (an extraordinary number.) Less than half of these eventually apply to med school. Very few of these pre-meds major in engineering even though the majority could probably do the work, and there is a bioengineering major designed pretty much just for them. Many of those initial pre-meds who later decide med school is not for them might have been very happy with engineering had they not been frightened away from it as frosh pre-meds.

5.)  Math departments have an innate disdain for engineers (practical, grimy brutes uninterested in the beauty of proofs) and don’t go out of their way to teach math in a manner that is helpful for budding engineers. In my day, the rumor was that the math faculty drew straws to see who got stuck teaching freshman calculus. In any event it was usually the lowest status, most heavily-accented adjunct (if not visiting) professor who taught calculus to engineers, not always a recipe for success.

6.)  The number of units required for an engineering degree makes it very difficult (though not absolutely impossible) to double major or study overseas. It also leaves much less room in the schedule for just sheer academic fun and exploration, supposedly part of what college is all about.

All these factors mean that unless a kid is willing to work very hard and knows with certainty at age 18 that he/she wants to be an engineer and nothing else, he/she is likely to shy away from engineering and never know if it might be interesting, less hard than they thought, lead to interesting work, etc.

This is not to say that the humanities have no value! I was an English major undergrad—I love literature and history! I certainly understand that not everyone is cut out for engineering and that the world would be a dull place indeed if it were only made up of engineers (or only pre-meds, or only art history majors, or only economists . . . ) But it seems counterproductive to make engineering quite so miserable, quite so risky (for anybody needing a high GPA for grad school) and require quite so many sacrifices on the part of the average 18 year old. 

In addition, if engineers are in demand and important to a state’s economy, why doesn’t that state’s universities accept more kids into their engineering programs? It may cost more, yes, but to skimp on engineers when kids want to study the subject and employers need the grads for their companies to thrive seems insane or at least economically demented.

Perhaps engineering should be a 5 year program rather than cram so much into just 4 years. Perhaps some of the more nonsensical breadth requirements could be reduced. Perhaps law and medical schools could be convinced to give engineering GPAs a substantial bump when considering them against bio or history majors. It just seems to me that a lot of smart, talented kids who could be quite successful as engineers are kept away from the field needlessly.

photo credit:  Peter Stamats

To the Seniors of 2012

As T. S. Eliot might have said, it’s that time again—April, the cruelest month for high school seniors, breeding college admissions out of dormant applications, mixing longing and aspiration, stirring anxiety with judgments from on high. A first love with a perfect quadrangle rejects, an inviting suitor plays coy with a waitlist, and an underrated wallflower beckons “choose me, choose me!” Hearts are broken, dreams rent into pieces. The Paths That Will Not Be Taken calcify into stone for all time.

It all seems to matter so terribly much.

And yet it doesn’t matter, not really, or at least far less than you might think. 

What does matter, dear senior—oh so critically—is your attitude. What matters is whatever you do next year, and wherever you do it, you develop (or reinforce) a lifelong habit of learning and growth. Perhaps you realize a bad attitude can render even Harvard a useless experience. What you may not be so sure of is that a good one can transform even a transitional year at community college into a work of living art.

Life is strange. It surprises, weaves and darts. It throws us curve balls, pushes us in directions we are sure we don’t want to go. It disappoints us, crushes us, picks us up by our heels and shakes us mercilessly until we cry uncle. Until we are ready to open our eyes and see that what it’s offering us might be exactly what we need for our growth, albeit in ever so strange a way.

Some of you may not like what life is offering you right now. Some of you may downright resent it. You’ve worked hard, you say (and you have!); you deserve more. Many of you may have financial constraints that harshly limit your choices. It’s easy to be bitter about a supposedly meritocratic system that gives advantage to those with more money. It’s easy to be angry at an institution that says, with little camouflage, “You’re not good enough for us.” Most damaging of all, perhaps, is when the decisions do go your way, when elation whispers like a cunning Iago, “You are now one of the select. Your future will unfurl before you in swirls of effortless glory.” All of these responses are traps.

Let’s be clear:  The college you attend does not define your worth as a human being.  (Nor do a few three and four digit numbers sum up your ability, your potential, or even say much about the inner workings of your mind.) Truly. Even if there weren’t wild amounts of randomness and luck involved in college admissions, even if your parents’ income and background didn’t matter, even if a test existed that could somehow measure the depth of your soul, the loving nature of your heart, the soaring possibilities of your spirit, there would still be no way in twenty minutes (the time admissions personnel may spend on your application if you’re lucky) that your value to the world could be evaluated. Not possible. Toss the very notion from your head.

Nor does the college you attend predict what you can do or achieve in life. You can learn new skills, find talented teachers, and encounter kindred spirits anywhere (although these teachers and kindred spirits may look different than you expect and hence be hard to recognize.) In addition, in the US, with the right effort and attitude, almost any college can be a springboard to another. Take advantage of this if it makes sense for you (but never out of bitterness or scorn.)

College is not a reward for hard work, nor is it a perfunctory ticket to be punched on the way to a job. College is an opportunity, one that you may put to good use or squander. It is also an investment. This country collectively pours enormous resources into its tertiary education system not because we want to create a playground for you to twiddle away your next four years, but because what you can learn, do, and become during your time at college—both in the classroom and outside of it—is vital to our long-term welfare as a nation. (A note: even though education is valuable, be judicious about the loans you take on. Debt has consequences.)

What is important about the next four years is not which school you go to, how famous your professors are, what books you read, or what facts you memorize. It is not your major, your degree, how much money you will earn after you graduate, which renowned diploma will or will not imbue your life with its ineffable prestige. What is important is your growth and exploration as you become the person you are meant to be. 

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are large (very large) (even formidable) problems looming ahead. Many, I’m sad to say, were created by my generation and the one before it—or at least these problems weren’t addressed and were allowed to snowball into enormous size. Through no fault of your own, the bills are coming due, someone has turned off the party music, bad smells waft from the bathroom, and the lights are flickering ominously. I am deeply sorry about this. However, since my generation is fast fading from usefulness, yours will inevitably be the one obliged to grapple with the aftermath as best you can. Much will be called for, including your focus, your passion, your commitment. The world will need your energy, your tenacity, your ingenuity; it will demand your compassion, your courage, your strength. And you will need all sorts of skills and knowledge, some that may not even have been invented or discovered yet.

Luckily skills and knowledge can be gained many places from many sources. In fact, life may surprise you with just who your best teachers turn out to be. Because the world is wide, varied, and rapidly changing, your years at college will at best only give you a sample of the larger whole. There can be no resting on laurels. Having lived half a century, I can say three-fourths of what I know I learned after I left academia behind. The good news is that learning keeps you energetic and interested in life. The good news is that huge problems offer huge opportunities. It is possible the challenges ahead will draw from you and your cohorts creativity and camaraderie that will be absolutely exhilarating. 

We are all interconnected. All of us who have come before you need you to hold up your share of the sky. For all our faults and failures, we have also held up our share and know both the joy and the burden that await you. I don’t profess to know what your life’s purpose is—it’s a seed inside you that you must feed and nurture and then see what blossom results. Who knows? You might turn out to engineer low-cost water purification systems for African villages. You may design urban parks that create oases of serenity as well as provide a third of a neighborhood’s food supply. You might be a teacher who can convey the beauty and usefulness of math, or a social worker who helps broken people heal enough to beat their drug addiction. You may do a stint as an endlessly patient and loving stay-at-home mom or dad. You may end up a politician more concerned with the well-being of your constituency than your campaign contributions who guides your community through useful and intelligent change. You may even be a sci-fi short story writer who is also a heck of a shoe repairer so that you both stimulate the collective imagination and ensure your community stays fit and mobile in well-maintained footwear.

Whatever path you choose, as long as your integrity, commitment and energy are high, the outcome will be valuable and significant. Yes, in the large scheme of things, the college you go to is of little consequence. But you, dear senior, are very important. Though it may seem incomprehensible right now, what you do with your education and your life matters to each and every person on this planet. Your very existence gives hope to those of us who’ve come before you. We await your contribution. Don’t waste a moment. Go forth, seniors of 2012, and shine.