Fall 2024
across the pond
|
|
By Mike Clifford
Recently, as an engineering department, we’ve been going through a redesign of our undergraduate degree programmes. At the initial meeting, we were asked to think about graduate attributes—i.e., what we want our graduates to know and to be when they collect their degree certificates. Since our courses are accredited by the Engineering Council, our scope is somewhat limited by the requirements of the accrediting bodies. Nevertheless, it was an interesting exercise to look at the bigger picture and to consider programme learning outcomes.
As you might imagine, there were many opinions expressed and debated. I remember wrinkling my nose at the idea that we should be forming resilient graduates. To me, resilience suggests that our students need to be prepared to be treated badly in the workplace. The concept that young people need to be toughened up has always been popular, particularly with more conservative thinkers. In the UK, we used to have National Service—a standardised form of peacetime conscription. This ran from 1947 until 1963, where all able-bodied men between the ages of 17 and 21 served for between 18 months and two years in the British Army, Royal Navy, or Royal Air Force. In total, more than two million men were conscripted. For some, National Service was the making of them, and for others, it was the breaking of them. Lance Corporal Adrian Cooper (Royal Engineers - 1947-49) recalls, “Endless drill, gruelling inspections, physical training, rifle practice, polishing boots and equipment, cross country runs, lectures in the art of warfare, fatigues of all sorts and all the time corporals and sergeants continually shouting and swearing from morning till night.” I hope that my colleagues had something different in mind when they spoke about resilience and the means to achieve this end!
As an alternative, I proposed that our graduates should be devious. As you might expect, eyebrows were raised, and this wasn’t all that well received. I had some explaining to do. I postulated that engineers need to have a degree of craftiness, as expressed by the American civil engineer Arthur Mellen Wellington (1847 –1895), who is often misquoted as saying that “An engineer can do for a dollar what any fool can do for two.”
In fact, he wrote that “It would be well if engineering were less generally thought of, and even defined, as the art of constructing. In a certain important sense, it is rather the art of not constructing; or, to define it rudely but not inaptly, it is the art of doing that well with one dollar, which any bungler can do with two after a fashion” (1).
I usually supplement this quote with: “A pessimist says that the glass is half empty, an optimist says that the glass is half full, but an engineer says that the glass is twice as big as it needs to be.”
On reflection, perhaps “devious” was too radical a suggestion, and so I retreated slightly and proposed “cunning” as an alternative, which went down a little better. After all, the word “engineer,” used as a verb, can be interpreted as arranging for something to happen, in a clever or indirect way. For instance: to engineer a situation to one’s advantage. I don’t think that this definition of “engineer” is very far away from our usual definition. When an engineer comes up with an elegant, creative, innovative, clever, and cunning solution, it can be a thing of beauty. Here, I disagree slightly with Arthur Mellen Wellington in that engineering is also about constructing or manufacturing.
If this all sounds very un-Christian, then consider Jesus’ advice to his disciples to be cunning as serpents and as innocent as doves (Matt 10:16). I like to think of Jesus as an engineer, working alongside Joseph in his carpenter’s workshop. I wonder what sort of things they made. What was the quality like, and who were their clients? I’m reminded that the word “manufacture” comes from the Latin roots manus, "hand," and factura, “a working,” so Jesus could be considered to be a manufacturing engineer! Just think, if I can persuade my colleagues to accept cunning as a programme learning outcome, then I may have engineered “Christ-like” as a graduate attribute.
Reference
1. Wellington, A.M. (1914). Economic theory of the location of railways (Sixth ed.). New York: Wiley, p.1.
*The views expressed here are my own and do not reflect those of the University of Nottingham
Mike Clifford is an Associate Professor in the Faculty of Engineering at the University of Nottingham. His research interests are in combustion, biomass briquetting, cookstove design, and other appropriate technologies. He has published over 80 refereed conference and journal publications and has contributed chapters to books on composites processing and on appropriate and sustainable technologies.
Recently, as an engineering department, we’ve been going through a redesign of our undergraduate degree programmes. At the initial meeting, we were asked to think about graduate attributes—i.e., what we want our graduates to know and to be when they collect their degree certificates. Since our courses are accredited by the Engineering Council, our scope is somewhat limited by the requirements of the accrediting bodies. Nevertheless, it was an interesting exercise to look at the bigger picture and to consider programme learning outcomes.
As you might imagine, there were many opinions expressed and debated. I remember wrinkling my nose at the idea that we should be forming resilient graduates. To me, resilience suggests that our students need to be prepared to be treated badly in the workplace. The concept that young people need to be toughened up has always been popular, particularly with more conservative thinkers. In the UK, we used to have National Service—a standardised form of peacetime conscription. This ran from 1947 until 1963, where all able-bodied men between the ages of 17 and 21 served for between 18 months and two years in the British Army, Royal Navy, or Royal Air Force. In total, more than two million men were conscripted. For some, National Service was the making of them, and for others, it was the breaking of them. Lance Corporal Adrian Cooper (Royal Engineers - 1947-49) recalls, “Endless drill, gruelling inspections, physical training, rifle practice, polishing boots and equipment, cross country runs, lectures in the art of warfare, fatigues of all sorts and all the time corporals and sergeants continually shouting and swearing from morning till night.” I hope that my colleagues had something different in mind when they spoke about resilience and the means to achieve this end!
As an alternative, I proposed that our graduates should be devious. As you might expect, eyebrows were raised, and this wasn’t all that well received. I had some explaining to do. I postulated that engineers need to have a degree of craftiness, as expressed by the American civil engineer Arthur Mellen Wellington (1847 –1895), who is often misquoted as saying that “An engineer can do for a dollar what any fool can do for two.”
In fact, he wrote that “It would be well if engineering were less generally thought of, and even defined, as the art of constructing. In a certain important sense, it is rather the art of not constructing; or, to define it rudely but not inaptly, it is the art of doing that well with one dollar, which any bungler can do with two after a fashion” (1).
I usually supplement this quote with: “A pessimist says that the glass is half empty, an optimist says that the glass is half full, but an engineer says that the glass is twice as big as it needs to be.”
On reflection, perhaps “devious” was too radical a suggestion, and so I retreated slightly and proposed “cunning” as an alternative, which went down a little better. After all, the word “engineer,” used as a verb, can be interpreted as arranging for something to happen, in a clever or indirect way. For instance: to engineer a situation to one’s advantage. I don’t think that this definition of “engineer” is very far away from our usual definition. When an engineer comes up with an elegant, creative, innovative, clever, and cunning solution, it can be a thing of beauty. Here, I disagree slightly with Arthur Mellen Wellington in that engineering is also about constructing or manufacturing.
If this all sounds very un-Christian, then consider Jesus’ advice to his disciples to be cunning as serpents and as innocent as doves (Matt 10:16). I like to think of Jesus as an engineer, working alongside Joseph in his carpenter’s workshop. I wonder what sort of things they made. What was the quality like, and who were their clients? I’m reminded that the word “manufacture” comes from the Latin roots manus, "hand," and factura, “a working,” so Jesus could be considered to be a manufacturing engineer! Just think, if I can persuade my colleagues to accept cunning as a programme learning outcome, then I may have engineered “Christ-like” as a graduate attribute.
Reference
1. Wellington, A.M. (1914). Economic theory of the location of railways (Sixth ed.). New York: Wiley, p.1.
*The views expressed here are my own and do not reflect those of the University of Nottingham
Mike Clifford is an Associate Professor in the Faculty of Engineering at the University of Nottingham. His research interests are in combustion, biomass briquetting, cookstove design, and other appropriate technologies. He has published over 80 refereed conference and journal publications and has contributed chapters to books on composites processing and on appropriate and sustainable technologies.