The Slow Death of Humanities: Why Cutting English Courses Matters More Than You Think
When I first heard about the University of Wolverhampton axing a slew of English courses and potentially laying off half its department staff, my initial reaction was a mix of frustration and resignation. Another day, another university prioritizing spreadsheets over souls. But as I dug deeper, what struck me wasn’t just the immediate impact on students and staff—it was the broader, chilling message this sends about the value we place on the humanities in 2024.
The Cuts: A Symptom, Not the Disease
Let’s start with the facts, though I’ll keep them brief because, frankly, the numbers only tell part of the story. The university is dropping programs like the MA in English Literature, BA in English Language and TESOL, and joint courses in English and History. The rationale? Cost-cutting. The university claims these courses have seen declining enrollment, and reducing staff is a “last resort.”
But here’s where I call foul. What many people don’t realize is that enrollment isn’t a natural phenomenon—it’s a product of marketing, outreach, and institutional priorities. The University and College Union (UCU) points out that Wolverhampton hasn’t exactly been championing these programs. If you don’t promote something, it’s no surprise when it fades into obscurity. This isn’t a market failure; it’s a manufactured one.
The Real Cost: Eroding Critical Thinking
What makes this particularly fascinating—and alarming—is the role English departments play in shaping society. Black Country musician Timothy Parkes nailed it when he said these courses were “iconic in critical thinking.” English isn’t just about parsing Shakespeare or diagramming sentences. It’s about teaching people to question, analyze, and communicate—skills that are desperately needed in an era of misinformation and polarization.
From my perspective, this isn’t just about saving jobs or courses. It’s about preserving a space where working-class students, in particular, can engage with ideas that challenge them. The humanities have always been a great equalizer, offering a ladder out of socioeconomic constraints. By gutting these programs, we’re not just cutting costs—we’re cutting opportunities for those who need them most.
The Class Divide in Education
One thing that immediately stands out is the concern raised by both staff and the public about the exclusion of working-class and local students from the creative arts. English courses, in particular, have been a gateway for students who might not otherwise see themselves in academia. Without these programs, the arts risk becoming the domain of the privileged—a gated community of ideas.
This raises a deeper question: What kind of society are we building when we price critical thinking out of reach for the majority? Personally, I think this is a dangerous precedent. If education becomes a luxury good, we’re not just devaluing the humanities—we’re devaluing democracy itself.
The Long Game: Innovation vs. Austerity
The university’s spokesperson insists that these changes are part of a long-term strategy to reinvest in “better student facilities” and enhance the education offer. But here’s the irony: by slashing humanities programs, they’re gutting the very disciplines that foster creativity and innovation.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the university’s plan to repurpose its sports hall into a medical school. Don’t get me wrong—medical schools are vital. But what this really suggests is a shift toward vocational, high-demand fields at the expense of disciplines that don’t immediately translate into job placements. It’s a short-sighted approach that ignores the interconnectedness of knowledge.
The Broader Trend: Humanities on the Chopping Block
Wolverhampton isn’t an outlier. Across the UK and beyond, humanities departments are being squeezed as universities chase STEM funding and market-driven metrics. In 2020, the university faced a £20 million deficit and cut nearly 140 courses, many in the arts. This isn’t just a financial crisis—it’s an existential one.
If you take a step back and think about it, the humanities are being treated as expendable because their value isn’t easily quantifiable. But that’s precisely why they matter. They teach us to ask questions that don’t have easy answers, to grapple with complexity, and to imagine a better world. Without them, we’re left with a society that’s technically proficient but spiritually and intellectually impoverished.
Final Thoughts: A Call to Rethink Priorities
In my opinion, the real tragedy here isn’t the closure of a few courses—it’s the mindset that allows it to happen. We’ve become so fixated on efficiency and ROI that we’ve forgotten the purpose of education: to enrich lives, not just resumes.
What this situation demands is a broader conversation about what we value as a society. Do we want universities to be factories churning out job-ready graduates, or do we want them to be places where people can explore, question, and grow? Personally, I’m voting for the latter.
The slow death of the humanities isn’t just a loss for academia—it’s a loss for all of us. And if we don’t start pushing back, we’ll wake up one day to a world that’s smarter but far less wise.
