The mediocrity of today’s youth’s general culture

It’s not so much the rise of artificial intelligence that’s frightening, but rather the pervasive decline of natural intelligence…

What I’ve been noticing more and more among my students is a lack—if not a complete absence—of ambition to develop their general knowledge. But above all, I observe a genuine failure to grasp its necessity. Especially in the face of the unstoppable march of so-called artificial intelligence. Many are convinced they already possess the only skill that matters today: retrieving information. In other words, there’s no need to know anymore—just to know how to search.

Some have even told me that knowledge can now be “outsourced”. That is, stored on search engine servers. And in their heads? Well, now it’s all about emotions. Garnished with their TikTok login, I suppose—because without it, modern life isn’t worth living.

So I ask them:

“Why do you look things up, then? To know something—or just for the sake of searching? Because if you’re not filtering anything in your own mind, then there’s no point in searching. Leave the servers alone, and everything that powers them.

And while we’re at it—why are you shelling out nearly €20,000 for a Master’s degree? For knowledge, or just a framed diploma to hang in your WC?”

The answers are muddled, devoid of logic, and met with blank stares. Nothing coherent. Nothing convincing.

And over the course of eight hours of lectures—using different approaches and varied angles—I iteratively and unambiguously demonstrate to them how the breadth of one’s personal horizons allows for a deeper understanding of an increasingly complex world. And I won’t shy away from this convoluted (and deceptively politically correct) phrase: Profound reflection leads to greater self-awareness and an understanding of the need for constant self-improvement—especially to foster harmonious relationships with others. In other words, social intelligence.

1. Live for 100 years, learn for 100 years.

Russian proverb

2. The only thing more expensive than education is ignorance.

Benjamin Franklin

3. The poor always pay twice.

Russian proverb

This last Russian proverb seems especially true for this new generation—they pay €20,000 for a year of studies, yet believe knowledge can simply remain in Google, ready to be retrieved whenever needed.

By the end of my lecture, far fewer cling to their “new-gen truths.” Some fall silent, visibly wrestling with an unwillingness to accept the professor’s “uncomfortable logic.” I confront them—literally—with the shallowness and transparency of their general knowledge during our debates. At least, the majority of them. And all this against the backdrop of their (mostly) inability to articulate their own viewpoints—or, in some cases, even string a few coherent words together.

Yet, little by little, by the end of my lecture, their initial defensiveness toward an older-generation figure (myself) allegedly trying to “offend them” gives way to sheepish grins—as they confront their inability to answer basic questions or grasp fundamental societal concepts, despite having navigated this world for nearly a quarter-century.

Consider this: Isn’t the breadth and depth of a person’s general knowledge one of the essential attributes of social intelligence?

Of course, deep down, I hope to instill in the majority of each cohort the vital need for general knowledge and social intelligence—especially in an era and a society where what truly frightens us isn’t so much the rise of artificial intelligence as the sweeping decline of the natural kind.

This is not merely a “caustically sarcastic” remark, but rather a reflection of statistical trends in recent years—particularly in France. I suspect the situation in Russia is hardly any better. Sources and expert opinions on the rise of cultural illiteracy and declining critical thinking abound in both countries. Consider this excerpt from a 2020 Russian academic paper:

Nearly all experts have highlighted the deterioration—if not outright destruction—of Russia’s education system. Both specialist analyses and broader public opinion increasingly point to a cultural crisis in Russia. Over half of surveyed respondents agree that Russian culture has declined over the past 25 years, with its greatest achievements now firmly in the past.

In saying all this today, I’m fully aware that in the Middle Ages—no, actually, not just the Middle Ages. Even 100-200 years ago, general knowledge was far more limited than it is now. If only because literacy reached a tiny fraction of society, and national education systems either didn’t exist or, where they did, leaned more on catechism than scientific rigor or teachers’ professional expertise.

So objectively, our current level of general knowledge is undeniably higher. But here’s the paradox: It appears to have started declining precisely with the rise of search engines, followed by smartphones in every pocket. In other words, pre-technological cultural literacy—both by statistics and the lived experience of older generations—was markedly stronger. And this, while accounting for the fact that Earth’s population has nearly tripled since 1960 (3 billion) to surpass 8 billion as of November 15, 2023.

Thus, the decline in general knowledge amid relentless population growth hardly inspires confidence in the future. Or to put it bluntly:

The pervasive, inescapable mediocrity of our times does little to make daily life more comfortable—or peaceful…

Yet it warms my heart when, after class, a few students approach me—some thanking me for the inspiration, others for helping them see things in a new light, and some even asking where they can read more (yes, you heard that right—”read”) about the topics we covered. And mind you, my course is essentially a curated anthology of general knowledge across disciplines. So I tell them: “Read everything. Voraciously. Without pause.”

Then there are those who email me later: “We need more courses like yours,” “Your teaching style is one of a kind.” In those moments, I swear I feel wings sprouting on my back. Sometimes, I might even leave the ground entirely.

After attending your course, I thought: ‘Everyone should experience this at least once in their life.’ Thank you again for the exceptional quality of your teaching.

Hello,
I was in your 2021-2022 cohort. I want you to know I still talk about your course, even after graduating from Skema—to my family, friends, and even recruiters. They’re all amazed by what we did.

Your knowledge and how you deliver it are a public good.
Thank you.

But how long will the passion that fuels their post-lecture gratitude and heartfelt emails truly last? No one knows. That’s why my flights of optimism never climb too high—though sometimes, surprises do come along.

Regardless. Once, when I was younger than all my current students combined, I first heard the saying “hope dies last.” So apparently, as always, all one can do is hope the seeds I scatter left and right will take root in those young minds. And who knows… Perhaps they’ll even blossom into tangible growth—both in their social intelligence and general knowledge, which are, let’s be precise, the very bedrock of a functioning society.

Over the past 20 years, the ubiquitous erosion in quality across nearly all societal institutions has become impossible to ignore. What I mean is…

With all our automation and rising living standards, society’s systems now run like a DIY project gone wrong,a kind of some broken, half-assed contraption—crafted by dilettantes—where nobody gives a damn about anything anymore!

So perhaps a revival of true social intelligence could fix this infernal machine?