In the comments at Z Man’s: Ultracrepidarian. It means “someone who criticizes, judges, or offers advice outside the range of his expertise.”
That’s academia, right there.
It’s surprising how little people actually know about what goes on in the ivory tower, given that our culture expects you’ll put yourself (or your parents!) a midsize mortgage in the hole to attend the six-year SJW sleepaway camp we call “college.” The crap you see spotlighted in The New Real Peer Review isn’t excessive; it’s the norm in academia. We’ve been over the reasons for this before, but here’s a quick recap:
Since only “scholars” who publish get tenure, and since journals only publish original “research,” the only way to publish consistently is to make shit up. Given that Shakespeare ain’t writing no more sonnets, the only way to get tenure in, say, English Literature is to argue that, properly “deconstructed,” the list of contents on a packet of beef jerky is just as valuable — indeed, more valuable — as a “cultural artifact” than anything the Bard, curse his CisHetPat White soul, ever wrote. Hence, the road to tenure takes only left turns.
And that’s where the “ultracrepidarian” part comes in. There have been two, exactly two, insights into the human condition put forth by ivory tower eggheads since the Renaissance, and they are:
- Outside of the physical constants, the “truth” kinda sorta depends on how you look at it; and
- Women’s unpaid labor in the house is still labor.
That’s it, but from those, the entire academic grievance industry was born. Neither of these, you’ll notice, counts as a particularly earth-shattering. They’re both kinda “no shit, Sherlock,” actually — ask anyone who has ever babysat a child if domestic work is work, and as for the so-called “truth,” I’m pretty sure English juries were being instructed on the meaning of “beyond a reasonable doubt” way back in the 12th century. But there you have it.
The truth of 1) dispenses with any need for “proof” when it comes to your ass-pulled assertions. Since everything is perspective, and all perspective rests on privilege, you can ad hominem your way out of anything — e.g. “it’s a black thing; you wouldn’t understand.” This is so effective that even certified Persons of Pallor like Shaun “Talcum X” King can make nice little careers off it. The truth of 2) justifies sneering hatred towards all of civilization, since, you know, men discovered, invented, built, and maintained every single fucking thing in it… but they wouldn’t have been able to do all that, natch, if women weren’t there backstopping them with diaper changes and tasty made-to-order sammiches.
It should be clear by now, I hope, that nobody who believes any of this tripe could possibly claim “expertise” in anything. As David Stove put it so eloquently long ago, the sum of Marxism + Feminism + Postmodernism = 0 + 0 + 0. And yet, since the Prime Directive of the credentialed is to defend the validity of credentials at all costs, the Academic-Industrial Complex is required to pretend that someone whose PhD is in “gender and sexuality studies” has standing to pronounce on whatever it is “gender and sexuality studies” covers…. which, according to them, is pretty much everything.
Hence you get someone like Cordelia Fine proclaiming that testosterone is to blame for all apparent differences in male and female psychology. This from a person who once authored an article titled “Is there neurosexism in functional neuroimaging investigations of sex differences?” I haven’t read it, and I’d wager you haven’t either, but we both know the answer. Deceased Persons of Penile Pallor called this kind of thing “begging the question,” which is why you’ve got honest-to-god PhDs in the Humanities these days who have never read word one of Aristotle.
And that’s how it works: Pick the answer you want to be true, make a cursory nod to some cherry-picked “evidence,” and ignore the rest… and if anyone questions you, wave your degree around. Indeed, information is a contaminant — if heredity had anything to do with anything, then the winner of the Spruill Prize in Southern Women’s History would look foolish lecturing to us that race is a myth. And yet, there it is. I’d wager I know more about testosterone than both of these ladies combined, in that I know a guy at the gym who I think might could sell you some D-ball, but that’s neither here nor there, since I’m not up for tenure.
Ultracrepidarian spergs pontificating — that’s what you’re spending $25K per year on average for. Like I always say, if some Bernie Madoff type had done to Wall Street what your average college “financial aid” officer has done to Main Street, the Chase Manhattan boys would have him flayed alive in Times Square, and broadcast it in place of the Super Bowl. Don’t go to college. Don’t send your kids to college. Don’t let your friends’ kids go to college. It’s the biggest scam in world history.Loading Likes...