For all the predictable speechifying about “diversity” that I heard at
cocktail parties and literary events, I became struck by just how
politically monolithic this scene really is. It’s not just that writers
and editors have to be PC when it comes to their books and their public
pronouncements: There also seems to be a crushing uniformity in regard
to their privately held viewpoints.
An agent (who, to his credit, read my manuscript off the slush pile)
scolded me for “bigotry” because the imagined world of 2036 has
witnessed a successful Muslim insurrection in France. Another accused me
of “misogyny” because the self-absorbed Henri has become less attracted
to his aging wife. A third told me that The Absolved was a
“terrific read,” but that she couldn’t represent the book because of its
“distinctively male voice.”
In The Absolved, my protagonist, Henri, states: “Sometimes,
when I’m made to suffer through someone parroting the drivel that has
become the zeitgeist, I wonder if I should disappear into the desert,
silence surely being preferable not only to stupidity but unanimity, as
well.”
I’m not going to take Henri’s advice, as I still think the search for
truth is a path worth taking. But if you’re wondering why so many of
the literary books that are now being published cater to just one narrow
sliver of the market, I think my experience over the last two years
qualifies as instructive.
…Policy analysts Chris Pope and Tim Rice build on the Mercatus report recommendation by asserting that
most undergraduate courses have “little to do” with clinical practice,
merely prolonging the medical training process. This contention reveals
an impoverished understanding of the practice of medicine and the state
of American secondary education.
First,
a doctor is not a technician of human pathology. Medicine is the art
and science of healing, where empathy, emotional-mental stamina,
critical reasoning, and communication play an integral role. None of
these skills are taught in medical school, explaining the high dropout
rate in countries where eighteen-year olds begin medical studies.
…Well-rounded knowledge imparts maturity,
enabling students to decide if they are indeed willing and equipped for
years of rigorous professional study, punishing hours of work, and a
lifetime of serving the sick. Importantly, high EQ shields medical
students and physicians from burning out – a trait of particular
significance given that the United States is experiencing an epidemic of
physician burnout.
A recent JAMA study shows
that replacing an existing physician can cost up to $1 million. We
cannot afford to lose current and future physicians to mental and
emotional exhaustion.