Frontiers: a Core-Worthy Course

Last semester, I was among the approximately 300 first-years attending Columbia College and the School of General Studies randomly selected to participate in Frontiers of Science, a pilot course under consideration for inclusion in the Core Curriculum. While the course was not without its problems, I urge President Lee Bollinger and the other decision-makers concerned with the Core Curriculum to preserve Frontiers and establish it as a fundamental part of the Columbia experience.

Under the leadership of Professors of Astronomy David Helfand and Jaqueline van Gorkom and Professor of Biology Darcy Kelley, in addition to other prominent members of Columbia's science faculty, the course's goal was to instill in all students a basic knowledge of major developments in Western science. The instructors also focused on instilling basic scientific habits of mind in their students. In course-wide lectures and smaller seminar sections, the class explored such diverse topics as Darwinian theory, nanotechnology, global warming, neurobiology, and the possibility of extraterrestrial life in our galaxy.

A self-proclaimed artiste, I came into Frontiers determined to hate it and, indeed, I sometimes found its structure haphazard. But over Winter Break, as I read newspapers and talked to family members, I was shocked at how much the material I had learned in the course actually had applications to my daily life and figured into everyday interactions. After taking Frontiers, I could contribute meaningfully to conversations about anything from evolution to robots: the course had achieved its goal and given me a basic knowledge of a large variety of scientific topics.

According to the Columbia College Bulletin, the Core strives to "provide a rigorous preparation for life in today's complex and changing world." Frontiers of Science did that for me in a very real sense. With a little tweaking, I imagine that the course could become one of the most exciting and popular classes at Columbia.

Frontiers has been a controversial course since its inception, especially among members of the science faculty. During one seminar, my section leader told me that some science professors felt that the material in Frontiers was presented in a manner far too broad and basic for students planning to major in the sciences. There was also concern that it would hinder science majors and prevent them from immediately becoming immersed in their subject matter at an advanced level.

I am a first-year and a likely English major, so perhaps my dissent carries little weight, but I disagree with professors with such opinions. Frontiers of Science occupies about a fifth of a student's course load for only one semester. Even with the strenuous requirements of a science major, I imagine that a student could find a way to fit in Frontiers. In addition, the course covers such a wide variety of topics that almost no student will have learned all of the material prior to arriving at Columbia.

The teachers and lecturers in Frontiers form a virtual parade of Columbia's most famous living scientists. Professors Wally Broecker, Don Melnick, and Don Hood, all titans in their fields, each gave several lectures. Professor of Physics Horst Stormer, a Nobel laureate, gave a hilarious and fascinating talk on nanotechnology. There are few other courses at Columbia that offer such famous and influential instructors to first-years.

What impressed me most about these teachers, however, was not their world renown but their dedication to the course. They all brought an incredible passion to the course and seemed determined to foster a love of science in every last student--they even came across as thrilled to be teaching a room full of 18- and 19-year-olds. What a privilege it was to be taught by these men and women!

Like any other course at Columbia, Frontiers could stand some improvement. The course surveys a number of dramatically different subjects, and lecturers sometimes had difficulty connecting two sequential topics. Taking Frontiers was like sampling an academic hors d'oeuvre platter: it whetted my scientific appetite, but it did not quite satisfy my curiosity in any one subject.

As I was taking the course, I found this superficial sampling of subjects a little frustrating. In the future, the professors in charge could narrow down the number of topics covered in lectures; perhaps they could make the focus of the course more theoretical. Instead of concentrating on specific experiments and discoveries, they might focus on the overarching themes of the scientific method and the complexity of nature.

In my mind, the biggest handicap that Frontiers faced last semester was its meeting time of Friday at 9:10 a.m. This seemingly insignificant detail proved nearly catastrophic for the course. Many first-years, myself included, sometimes came to the class exhausted, hung over, and unable to concentrate on the material being presented--or didn't come at all. I would have been able to learn a lot more had the class been at a different time and I hope that in the future the registrar will give Frontiers a better slot.

Despite these minor flaws, however, Frontiers was an excellent class and has the potential to unite and benefit all Columbia students. It gave me the ability to understand the discoveries of modern science and to speak about scientific topics with confidence. Most importantly, it helped me overcome the aversion to science that I'd carried ever since high school. I recommend it highly to prospective students and I hope to see it established as part of the Core.

Anna Sproul is a Columbia College first-year and an associate opinion editor for Spectator.