The Importance of Being Cynical

Some of my recent posts have attracted quite a bit of attention. Thank you to all of you who’ve read the posts and left comments. They are much appreciated.

Amongst the various feedbacks was the comment that I’m a cynic. That accusation, which I can assure you pierced my malevolent soul to its core, provoked a furious burst of cognitive activity in my cranium (which is, as some have so eloquently pointed out, rather lacking in the hair department. My most profound thanks for letting me know as I'd not noticed the follically challenged state of my scalp until those comments were made.)

So, is being a cynic a bad thing? Is a willingness to ask awkward questions or hold contrarian opinions detrimental to the greater good? Basically, is being an awkward cuss of any use to anyone? (I ask this because I get the teensiest smidgen of a vague feeling that some might answer that question with a resounding : “No!”)

I’d like to advance the revolutionary idea that our society needs the gadfly, the awkward cuss, the person who doesn’t care whether they are popular or not. Why? Because they are often the only ones ready to challenge the power of orthodoxy. They are the shakers of the foundations of the status quo. Never willing to accept an answer just because it's the easy option to do so. Not accepting the words of those in power just because they hold a position of authority. (Good journalists, in my opinion, have to be cynics.)

The cynic listens to the words that spill from the mouths of our leaders; political, business or even spiritual, and doubts every syllable. The cynic distrusts the media as he, or she, knows that the media exists to make money not to tell the truth. (Dare I say it? Yes, I will.) The cynic listens to the academics of this world and wonders how much they can be trusted. How biased are their opinions? The cynic is the enemy of the religionists. Daring to publicly doubt the odd and, frankly, insane tenets of any and all religious belief systems. (I must admit to the hobby of religionist baiting – it's great fun – but for some incomprehensible reason they now avoid my front door.)

The cynic is the person who asked about MPs' expenses, demanded to know where Saddam Hussein’s weapons of mass destruction actually were and queried the odd correlation between child abuse cases and a certain religious organisation.

Enough. I feel I've proved my point.

I'll end by saying that the cynic doubts everything, questions everything and doesn't hesitate to voice their opinions. If that upsets some people, or even the entire world population, then the true cynic doesn't care. For on the heart of the cynic is inscribed the word: “Why?”

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Please Note: I felt it best, Gentle Readers, to reassure you that the comments that implied I was the victim of sexual abuse as a child are completely baseless. Whilst my childhood was far from perfect it never involved incestuous, or any other type, of sexual abuse. I assume the comments were meant to be pejorative in nature but I think it's more likely to be a case of imagination failure in the insult department. I'd suggest those responsible consult such works as the Blackadder scripts and the written works of Spike Milligan (sadly missed but never forgotten).

Sports Management? Who Needs It?

Today I had a team meeting and I asked the usual question about what courses the team members were doing. To my surprise the answers I got back were all prefixed with the word SPORT. Sport management and sports marketing being the two prevalent courses.

It struck me as odd. Why should someone work for three years on a course that is predicated on just one industry? In this case it's sport but it could have been retail, catering or even dung collection. It smacks of putting all your eggs in one basket. A very small basket at that.

Is this really an issue?

Well, to me it is. The world of work changes all the time. A degree that prepares you to work in a number of fields is going to be more valuable than a degree that prepares you just for one. Lets face it, the sports industry could go into a steep decline and leave you flat on your arse. Also, job hunting is currently a very difficult process. It's a buyer's market out there and the recruiters will be looking for any reason to reject your CV at the earliest stage. Applying for a job outside of the sports industry with a degree that puts sport at the heart of three years academic slog isn't going to be very easy. Nor, in my opinion, is it necessary.

Why should anyone want to do a degree in Sports Management? Wouldn't a management degree, perhaps with some sports modules, be far more attractive to a potential employer? It would be the equivalent of a journalism degree that prepares you only to write about David Beckham or currency trading. It's too specific and too narrow.

Those who are taking such degrees might argue that their course contents are much wider than the title of their degree implies. But that isn't going to help when it comes to selling themselves on the job market. Employers aren't going to ask themselves if Mr K, with his Sports Marketing degree, is going to be any use in a trainee position in a firm that specialises in marketing agricultural products. No, the employer will just turn to the next CV. The employer doesn't have to dig into the contents of your course nor bother themselves with how a sports orientated course could be made to adapt to a non-sport based business. I can assure you that they won't.

Perhaps the perceived glamour of sport is behind such narrow degrees? I don't know. If anyone asked for my advice I'd recommend a degree course that could be flexibly applied in many fields because there's one universal factor in the business world and it's “Change.” It happens all the time and if you don't move with it then it will run you over like a steamroller. In a world that can change almost overnight a degree that even hints at you being inflexible and rigid will be as much use as a dose of syphilis.

The Loneliness of the long distance Mature Student

My first seminar this morning was a fantastic example of what life can be like at university for a mature student.

I arrived early, as usual, and settled myself down for the traditional long wait for anyone else to turn up. (Do not fear for me Gentle Reader, I didn’t waste the time as I feel constitutionally unwilling to piss my life away) An 09:00 start being a bit too much for most of the regular students. Poor little dears. I wonder what they’ll think of actually working a full day if/when they graduate and manage to get a job?

 

So by about ten minutes to the hour one other student had arrived. The rest of those who could be bothered trickled in over the course of about fifteen minutes. The fact that some were tardy is not exactly rare and hardly worthy of comment. But what is worth comment is what they did once they came into the room and espied the evil countenance of the being known as Mike the Terror of Student Kind.

 

Yes, I was sat down on one side of the room and was easily visible to the approaching students. One look at my frightening visage was enough to drive them away. Hiding their faces from my glowing red eyes, freshly polished horns and steaming anus. As each of the quivering creatures entered my realm they scuttled like fleeing crabs and took a seat as far from me as they could.

 

I found this most amusing and not at all surprising. Wasn’t it Alison Cheeseman, she of the exquisite Scottish accent and piercing wit, who christened me “The Lone Ranger” in my first year? (That was because I have this habit of sitting at the front in lectures and answering questions. I like doing that but it has earned me the response “Shut up you, I know you know the answer” a fair few times).

 

I am left wondering what would happen if I turned up late and tried to sit amongst the student throng? Perhaps they’d all get up and pointedly move to other seats? Maybe they’d pelt me with rotting fruit and the gizzards of freshly slaughtered first years? Or, just maybe, they’d throw themselves to the floor like craven dogs. Fearful of the Wrath of Mike the Mighty Mature Student.

 

Probably not.