In Zimbabwe, being an intellectual is increasingly viewed as a liability. You often hear the dismissive refrain directed at a curious child quoting from a book: “Don’t be academic, be practical!” This anti-intellectual sentiment threatens to perpetuate our underdevelopment. We must analyze what it truly means to be academic or intellectual, and assess the value of an intellectual approach to society. Then, we need to examine how this anti-intellectual attitude has taken root in Zimbabwe and explore potential solutions.
My thoughts on this issue were sparked during a lecture at the School of Advanced Study, University of London, delivered by Lord Howell, then Minister of State (Foreign & Commonwealth Office) in the United Kingdom. The lecture focused on the role of the Commonwealth in the 21st Century. Lord Howell, a writer and regular contributor to publications like The Japan Times, International Herald Tribune, and The Wall Street Journal, and author of The Edge of Now, engaged with academics, students, and the public on the history and future of the Commonwealth and its implications for government policy. This experience highlighted the intellectual tradition we have sadly abandoned.
To me, an intellectual is someone who not only applies reason to the problems they face but also possesses a genuine love of reading and attempts to integrate learned concepts into their daily life. For instance, an intellectual trying to persuade a five-year-old to eat carrots might reference Herzberg’s Two-Factor Theory. Or, when grappling with Zimbabwe’s unemployment crisis, they would draw upon the insights of economists like Keynes or Milton.
But what practical value do books offer? Aren’t they merely theoretical? Books enable us to build upon existing knowledge. We don’t need to rediscover the properties of radio frequencies to establish a cellphone network; the theories are readily available. There’s a dangerous misconception that theories are divorced from reality. In essence, a theory is a simplified framework for understanding reality.
Consider a hypothetical scenario: you receive farmland through a government empowerment program. Lacking farming experience, you plant crops near your house and others in the field. The crops near the house are sheltered, while those in the field are exposed to the elements. You return to the farm at harvest time and find that the sheltered crops fared poorly, while those in the field thrived. Perplexed, you wonder why. You might attribute it to the farmhouse “draining” energy from the soil, or perhaps a jealous maid’s curse. There are countless possible explanations.
As a “practical” individual who dismisses theory, you add more fertilizer to the sheltered crops the following season, but they deteriorate further. In the subsequent season, you double the water, with equally disappointing results. Realizing the futility of endless trial and error, you turn to a book. There, you learn that plants require sunlight for energy, and you understand that the problem is excessive shelter. This simplified example illustrates the power of theory.
Theories emerge through the scientific method, where scientists pose questions about reality, formulate hypotheses, and test them in controlled environments. This process yields theories that help us understand the world. This applies to various fields, including economics, criminology, employee motivation, and inflation. These theories provide simplified frameworks for implementing predictable changes. Are theories always accurate? No. The beauty of science lies in its self-correcting nature. The theory of a flat earth was debunked centuries ago. A theory is valuable to the extent that it explains reality. When reality contradicts a theory, it is replaced with a better one, bringing us closer to the truth. That’s why theories, like gravity, remain theories, even though their effects are observable.
Why has Zimbabwe abandoned this theoretical approach? It may have begun with the government’s frustration over the economy’s failure to conform to established economic theories. The hyperinflation of the pre-Gono era led Mugabe to declare that theories were ineffective, favoring a “practical” approach. This “practical” approach included appointing Gideon Gono, an individual without formal economic credentials. In reality, it was an attempt to apply “common sense,” which yielded unpredictable consequences. Had Gono understood basic economic theory, he might have grasped the impact of printing trillions of dollars. Inflation skyrocketed, only to be reversed by outsourcing monetary policy to Ben Bernanke, an economist from Princeton University. Zimbabwe should have analyzed empirical data, understood anomalies, and modified economic theory to find solutions.
We observe chaotic minibus (“kombi”) operations in Harare, where operations research theories could optimize routes, determine operator numbers, and alleviate congestion. It’s frustrating to see a kombi wait hours for passengers to Glen Norah while a queue of workers heading to Chitungwiza are late.
An intellectual tradition fosters vigorous debate, where society is organized based on the best ideas. Sadly, Zimbabwe often favors those with power, suppressing dissenting voices. This applies to both Zanu PF and the MDC.
How can we reverse this trend? Teachers must reclaim their revered status as knowledge disseminators and nurturers of future leaders. Political parties should collaborate with think tanks to develop theories for societal improvement. Politics must be a contest of ideas, not force. We need to write, think, and question more. During my college years, there were no case studies on management in a Zimbabwean context, and this gap persists. Contrast this with the Entrepreneurial Thought Leaders Series at Stanford, where students engage with real-world applications of theory.
The marginalization of intellectuals hinders innovation. We produce technicians, not inventors. We must fund basic research. Imagine the transformative potential of a green fuel invention.
Next time someone is criticized for being too academic, remind them that conceptual frameworks are essential for effectiveness. Don’t be practical, be academic!
