Once upon a time, in a land not so distant, the High Chiefs and Head Honchos (better known to villagers as “ministers”) decided to seek the wisdom of the all-knowing Oracle (or as the commoners would have, ‘the Regulator’) to prune the forest of Knowledge (also known as “courses”) that bore not fruits of “good outcomes”.
The village elders didn’t eye this move with much enthusiasm. “What is a ‘good outcome’?”, pondered Elder McIntosh as he nibbled on his third afternoon cookie. “Who gets to decide?”
It all began on a blustery Tuesday of decision-making. The High Chiefs and Head Honchos gathered in the grand hall, outfitted with starched robes and serious expressions. “We can’t have any more of these ‘Bad Apples’, they surely do nothing but rot the entire barrel,” moaned Know-it-all Nelly.
Now, Nelly was oftentimes the voice of reason in the council, despite her tendency to dominate every discussion, even those about the village’s annual ‘Musical Chairs’ competition. She had a point, albeit it didn’t sit well with everyone.
Meanwhile, the Oracle, busy with his usual tasks of inspecting the crystal ball and flipping through clouds of prophecies in his spare time, was summoned. “Tell us, oh wise one,” beseeched the ministers, half choking on their formal pomp, “How should we go about harshly judging these courses? Which are the rotten apples to throw away?”
However, the responsibility didn’t sit quite easily on the Oracle’s broad but sagging shoulders. He simply sipped his spinach smoothie (a too-healthy concoction he claimed to be part and parcel of his oracle-ism) and sighed, “Timing, my friends, is key. One cannot judge the ripeness of a fruit before its time. You must first let it grow, let it bear fruit, before you discard it.”
And so, the saga of the “courses with lackluster outcomes” was set to endure for a little longer. Despite the ministers’ best intentions (double-voiced though they may have been), and the Oracle’s profound spinach-laced wisdom, a course would have to disappoint a bunch more of unwitting learners before it was deemed unfit for the forest of Knowledge.
As the sun sets on our grand tale of ministerial meddling and regulatory reluctance, the question remains: should the fate of academic endeavours be decided with the swift guillotine of immediate judgement? Or should it be given the time to flourish and maybe, just maybe, surprise the sagacious Head Honchos with an unexpected ‘good’ outcome?
Only time, and maybe a couple more spinach smoothies down the Oracle’s gullet, will tell. And as we await the outcome in bated breath, the village’s annual ‘Musical Chairs’ competition carries on because, surely, that’s the kind of contest with definitively ‘good’ outcomes, right?
