It seems like there's not much good news for the humanities. Here's one of the more pessimistic pieces from Eric Hayot, writing in The Chronicle of Higher Education. Notice I said pessimistic, not inaccurate. Still, there's a lot to be said for graduates who can write and communicate effectively while displaying some degree of empathy.
The Humanities as We Know Them Are Doomed. Now What?
Let me put it more plainly: At many, many of the colleges where we work, the number of humanities degrees awarded has dropped precipitously. In 2015 about 9,300 fewer English majors graduated from the colleges in the MLA study than in an average year from 2000 to 2010. The recent and rapid decline in the number of majors suggests that the humanities have become disconnected from the general ups and downs of university funding, resulting in a second shock, in which the enrollment drops are extending and solidifying the effects of the 2008-15 period. (Preliminary data recently released from the NCES suggest the situation continues to deteriorate. According to analysis by Northeastern’s Benjamin Schmidt, the number of English B.A.s awarded fell by 10 percent from 2015 to 2017.)
When an English department goes from 414 majors in 2005 to 155 in 2015 (as did the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign’s), or from 126 to 55 (as did Harvard’s), what department head can justify increasing the size of the tenure-line faculty? On what grounds can we even argue for hiring replacements for our retiring colleagues? And if departments reduce their hiring, instead of bringing it back to previously normal levels (which were already not enough to employ all the graduating Ph.D.s on the tenure track), what will happen to our graduate students?
To make things worse: In this new situation we will not have the same allies we had before (during the financial crises of 2001 and 2008). Enrollments in business, in science, and in some of the social sciences seem to be increasing. (At Penn State, the department of economics graduated twice as many students in 2015 as it did in 2009.) The humanities are institutionally more alone and more vulnerable than they have ever been, more at the mercy of a university’s financial decisions or a new dean’s desire to prove his or her toughness by consolidating departments or reducing faculty size.
To my colleagues involved in Ph.D. programs, I say something simple and hard: Unless you are placing most of your students in the professorial jobs for which you are training them, you need to rethink what you are doing. We cannot go on allowing ourselves to accept students who believe that they will be the ones to make it, when we see so clearly that the job market is a matter not of individual talent but of structural violence, of a system whose primary ideological function is to absolve the individuals who participate in it from any moral responsibility for its effects.
A couple of years ago, I was talking with someone who was chair of a large English department. "I feel so worried about the profession," she told me, "that sometimes I just think to myself, ‘Oh, well, at least I only have five years to retirement, so I won’t have to watch it all fall apart.’"

















