Quasi

In most activities people pursue with any appreciable intensity, there is a kernel of value embedded in an outer layer of utter absurdity.

I'll start backing up my assertion with the example of sports. I think any sport that picks up a serious measure of longevity has at its core an essence that is enjoyable and worthwhile. I think athletes who play those sports make great memories for themselves, form powerful bonds with teammates and rival competitors, and learn valuable lessons about discipline, teamwork, patience, humility, and the list goes on. But beyond that core lurk the toxins of popularity and money, and as soon as the sport picks up a sizable audience, whether regional, nationwide, or even global, the latent profit creates a bubble of false, distorted value that utterly skews the priorities of those who play it and those who follow it.

Oddly enough, virtually the same thing is true, straight down the line, for academic research. Any academic field that attracts a critical mass of researchers, plus consumers of the research, is definitely on to something. No matter how many hasty, lazy thinkers want to say we're nearing the end of science, and we know everything that needs to be known, we still discover every day new cracks and crevices of reality and human experience (not the same thing at all) that bear examining. But the way academic research works at universities, those crevices become veins of valuable ore to be mined for profit, until almost overnight the scholars are producing obscure, silly, contrived research projects that have vanishingly small power to change anyone's life for the better. I trained in the doctoral program of a Research I university, and my professors all assumed I'd go to a huge state school, crank out five or six journal articles each year, teach at most a single class, and effectively work in a think tank, surrounded by grad students who were my research disciples.

Didn't quite turn out that way.

You see, one of the few pursuits that I don't think is a core of value surrounded by a cocoon of absurdity is teaching. Teaching, from inside to out, is pure value. It's definitely the case that learning can range from worthwhile to absurd, and the unbalanced relationship ultra-orthodox Judaism has with Talmud study merely for study's sake has lately underscored that for me. But teaching, as far as I'm concerned, as far as my reasoning can take me, is worthwhile all the way through.

And notice what do I do for a living? I dabble in research on the side, and I even serve the athletic program at my college. But the kernel of what I do is teaching. Teaching makes everything else run; teaching is what defines me. It's my top priority. It's easily the most worthwhile, least counterfeit, enterprise I pursue, and I believe it's the most world-changing outlet for my energies that God provides.

I take great comfort in that. I think it's probably my best protection against burnout.