FINDING THOSE NONCOMS. Pittsburgh philosopher Robert B. Brandom bolsters his team's case for a spot in the Final Four.

The faculty and administration long ago made the decision that the thing to do with all these high-powered philosophers is to get them up on their hind legs in front of undergraduates. Accordingly, every senior member of the department offers an introductory philosophy course every year — typically structured as two lectures a week by the professor, supplemented by one or two small-group discussion sections per week, led by one of our doctoral students. And every undergraduate who takes a bachelor’s degree takes one such course at some point in his or her career.

At least for a couple of hours a week, they listen to and talk with people who are pushing back the frontiers of the discipline, have published a shelf-full of books, and lecture all around the world. One of the things I’ve always thought was special about my alma mater, Yale (where my son just started as a freshman) is that they have a policy across the board of having their most distinguished faculty teaching the most introductory courses, so that the most students are exposed to them. That’s the policy we’ve adopted in the philosophy department.

As a result, the number of undergraduate student-contact hours per senior faculty member in the philosophy department is the highest in [arts and sciences].

There is much to commend about this speech. First, there appears to be some kind of core course in philosophy for Pittsburgh students. Second, the presence of a senior professor in an introductory course sends the right signal: the basics are too important to leave to novices. (Visualize a boot camp without lifer sergeants as drill instructors.) Third, the university is using a sensible metric for teaching load: contact hours per professor (rather than classes taught per professor, which lends itself to all sorts of fiddles.)

Leiter Report correctly characterizes what follows in the speech as dealing with the "pernicious idea of students as customers."

The students are not always initially happy about being required to take these courses, though our exit evaluations of satisfaction are very high. This underlines what is wrong with thinking of our students as customers, whose desires ought to drive our offerings. If we just give the students what they want, half of them would do nothing but channel-surf through undemanding courses on the symbolism of the Matrix movies and what the popularity of reality TV says about contemporary culture — with lots of video-viewing time.

A somewhat better model than that of commercial customer is that of professional client, in relation, for instance, to a doctor or lawyer. No one with any sense goes to their counselor and says: Prescribe this drug for me in this dosage, or file a lawsuit for me under this section of the Uniform Commercial Code. One goes instead for access to a different kind of judgment and advice, which one wants to take account of a whole range of possibilities and constraints initially visible only to the professional.

Read the whole thing. Great candid shot of the professor accompanies it.