The issue is not writing. It's what you write about. One of my favorite columnists is Jonathan Weil, who writes for Bloomberg. He broke the Enron story, and he broke it because he's one of the very few mainstream journalists in America who really knows how to read a balance sheet. That means Jonathan Weil will always have a job, and will always be read, and will always have something interesting to say. He's unique. Most accountants don't write articles, and most journalists don't know anything about accounting. Aspiring journalists should stop going to journalism programs and go to some other kind of grad school. If I was studying today, I would go get a master's in statistics, and maybe do a bunch of accounting courses and then write from that perspective. I think that's the way to survive. The role of the generalist is diminishing. Journalism has to get smarter.

A few months before I applied to grad school I was pretty certain I wanted to do journalism. After all, I had written a few articles in 2008 and 2009 and thought it'd be what I wanted to do. Yet a few different people, including this highly-respected blogger, advised me not to do so and to apply for something else.

I ended up half-taking their advice- I applied to a dual-degree program at UC Berkeley that included journalism but ultimately wasn't accepted- but now that I'm studying international relations I feel strongly that I've made the right choice. Time will only tell.

The rest of Gladwell's interview is worth reading, especially his comment about education.

Well, this isn't entirely the truth. It seems that the guy, one Scott Nicholson, actually was offered a job for 40,000 USD a year but decided it wasn't good enough for him. So he turned it down. His failures to land a corporate track position has led both his parents and grandparents to conclude that the American dream just ain't what it used to be.

What galled me most was that the article intended the reader to sympathize with Scott, and in the comments section many actually do. Now I don't know Scott and don't want to judge him, but what on earth was he expecting? 24 year olds with a bachelor degree, no work experience, no real life experience, (likely) no language or other marketable skills simply aren't going to hit the gravy train straight out of a liberal arts college. This is hardly news; I heard much the same thing when I graduated from college, one of the reasons I ultimately chose to go to China to teach English. And when I graduated the job market was considered good.

My faith in the intelligence of our generation was restored somewhat by this parallel piece, authored by another young American. Like Scott, Andrew Hudson graduated from college and couldn't find a job. So he went to India and found work. And while he admittedly won't make much money while abroad, he is still gaining invaluable life  and work experience and will be much better off when he decides to head back to the US.

Given my personal history I'm understandably bullish about going overseas to live- I've long encouraged most of my friends to do so, and several have. For me, I was pulled to China by a sense of adventure, not as a strategic maneuver. As a 23 year-old I didn't think in such terms.  Yet the strategic advantages of going overseas are numerous. To wit:

- For a native speaker of English, there are always, always English-teaching positions available pretty much anywhere in the developing world. Even if teaching isn't a glamorous profession for all, there are far worse ways to make a living, especially in the short term.

- It goes without saying, but learning another language is much easier when you live in a foreign country.

- There are many exceptions to this rule, but spending some time abroad- particularly in an unusual place-  usually makes one a more interesting person.

Not everyone has the temperament or desire to live overseas, so my prescription isn't going to work for everyone. But a twenty-four year old like Scott Nicholson ought to know that sitting and e-mailing companies his resume isn't the only way forward in the world.

Added to my own thoughts, here are a few reasons why this point of view has some merit:

• To a large extent Chinese high school education serves as a preparation for the all-important 高考, a mandatory exam encompassing several subjects which largely determines how Chinese students place in universities. The 高考 is many times more important than the SAT or ACT exams in the US. As a result, teachers teach to the exam and emphasize rote memorization above a broader understanding of the subject.
• Chinese teachers, like their counterparts everywhere else in the world, vary tremendously in quality. Yet in China teachers are hamstrung by an inability to devise their own curriculum, or to deviate from interpretations presented in textbooks. This restriction stifles the ability of students to think differently about familiar subjects. Even good teachers are forced to toe the party line.
• Chinese students of all ages waste an inordinate amount of time memorizing the political tenets of Marx, Lenin, Mao, Deng, and other politically correct thinkers. While I think it is important to some extent for students in China to learn the philosophical underpinnings of their nation's founding, these courses make no effort to place Marxism or Communism in a broader global context and are almost universally regarded as tedious by the students.
• For my fourth point, I'll relate an anecdote. For the better part of my first year teaching English, I would conclude each major point by asking my students if they had any questions. Silence. I'd ask, 'are you sure?'. More silence. Finally, one of the sassier girls in the back yelled out, "no, no questions!". It took me awhile before I learned that my students were wholly unaccustomed to raising their hands and asking their teacher for questions. Even months of my encouragement could not undo many years of educational passivity. The problem with this approach is that students tend to accept what they learn at face value rather than think critically about what they read. The notion that what teachers teach merely represent a particular point of view or interpretation hasn't penetrated very deeply into the Chinese national psyche, and a lack of critical thinking skills results.

It is important to bear in mind the enormous challenges China has faced in bringing their system up to international standard. When the Communists assumed power in 1949 the vast majority of China's hundreds-million strong peasantry were illiterate. Improving this number remains one of Mao's greatest achievements. During my trips through the Yunnan countryside, surely one of the poorest regions in the country, I have seen many schoolchildren sitting in restaurants poring over exercise books. Better a flawed educational system, I would say, than none at all.

An additional challenge in China is the vast array of regional dialects spoken throughout the country. In addition to the better-known tongues such as Cantonese, Tibetan, and Uighur, there are immense differences in dialects between and even within provinces- I know that two people from opposite sides of Yunnan would speak mutually incomprehensible dialects. People raised in the countryside tend to speak only their dialect during their daily life; I've encountered many uneducated peasants who still today require an interpreter to speak to me- in Mandarin. It may seem funny to a laowai that signs plastered throughout Chinese schools ask students to speak Mandarin, but they are surely needed.

For this reason, I can see why a 高考 exists. Whatever its flaws, the exam does provide opportunities for students hailing from far-flung provinces to matriculate to the country's best schools on their own merit. Having a nation-wide exam makes sense, but why not modify its content by de-emphasizing memorization and promoting critical thinking skills? I'd be delighted if one day I stepped in front of a classroom and had a room-full of students eagerly challenging my point of view.