Opening Exercises 2024: ‘Something Transcendent’

For Opening Exercises on September 1, we gathered on the front lawn of Nassau Hall to welcome Princeton’s new transfer students and the Class of 2028. I invited students to carefully consider the meaning and value of liberal arts education as they pursue their Princeton journey, and to be inspired by the “transcendent” experience of Pre-read author Fei-Fei Li ’99. — C.L.E.

Please let me begin by saying what a pleasure it is to welcome you to Princeton! I am delighted to greet you all as you begin your Princeton journeys.

The vibrant weeks at the beginning of each new academic year invigorate all of us, and they are especially memorable for newcomers to campus. I guarantee that there will be sights and conversations from this week, moments of surprise or wonder or newfound friendship, that you will recall vividly for many decades.

Fei-Fei Li, with whom we will talk later today, recounts in this year’s Pre-read impressions of Princeton that have stayed with her since her graduation twenty-five years ago. She talks about “[p]ale cement paths [that] slic[e] green lawns into polygonal fragments” and “[w]alls of brown brick … pockmarked by centuries of history.”¹

She might well be referring to this lawn, here in front of Nassau Hall, where we gather now.

Professor Li also says that Princeton’s libraries “captured [her] heart” because the collections made her feel that she was “in the presence of something transcendent.”²

I love that idea of “something transcendent,” because I think it expresses a profound insight about this place and the education that happens here. You probably know that Princeton is famous for its deep commitment to liberal arts education. And one aim of liberal arts education is to connect you with a sense of the transcendent.

I want to reflect for a while on that phrase, “the liberal arts.” Apparently, many people no longer understand what it means. A public opinion pollster once told me that universities should stop talking about the “liberal arts.” He said that people think that “liberal” means “left-wing” and “arts” are impractical, so combining the two terms is, in his words, and I quote, “a branding disaster.” He said that he personally favored liberal arts education, but that colleges needed to rebrand it.³

Rebrand liberal arts education! It is possible, I suppose. What would we call it?

Perhaps we could call it “Future-Oriented Leadership Education.” That sounds exciting, practical, and cutting edge, don’t you think? One aim of liberal arts education is to equip you not just with the knowledge or skills you need for your first job, but with ways of knowing that will enable you to tackle questions and challenges that nobody has yet imagined.

Professor Li’s career provides an example. Her undergraduate studies exemplified the breadth that we expect from a liberal arts education at Princeton, where that concept encompasses the natural sciences, the social sciences, and engineering along with the humanities.

Dr. Li majored in physics at Princeton, and she also took electives in art history. She became a leader in the field of computer science by posing novel questions about how the human mind categorizes images—questions that drew inspiration from art, psychology, and neuroscience among other fields.

Now she is investigating ethical issues about human-centered artificial intelligence, issues that would have been hard for anyone to formulate when she graduated twenty-five years ago.

I am reluctant, though, to reduce liberal arts education to preparation for leadership or professional success, even of a lofty sort. We at Princeton want you to study art history and physics and many other subjects for reasons that go beyond their value to your careers.

Michael Gordin, Princeton’s new dean of the college, is a passionate advocate for liberal arts education, as was his predecessor, Jill Dolan. Dean Dolan occasionally talked about “education for citizenship.” Perhaps that is a better way to rebrand the liberal arts.

“Education for citizenship” has the advantage of connecting closely to the original meaning of liberal arts.

“Liberal” referred to “freedom,” as in the word “liberty,” not to left-wing politics. And “arts” referred to “disciplines” or “studies,” rather than to the creative arts as we understand them today—though, of course, the creative arts are a part of a liberal arts education. “Liberal arts” thus meant an education worthy of a free person—so “education for citizenship” is a decent update or translation of the original idea.

The phrase “education for citizenship” illuminates another important part of what we want a liberal arts education to do. We want it to enable you to participate fully in all facets of public and private life. We believe, for example, that to be a fully flourishing citizen in the age of artificial intelligence, engineers must comprehend human culture, and ethicists must understand technology.

For me, though (and I’m pretty sure that both Dean Gordin and Dean Dolan would agree), even the idea of “education for citizenship” is a bit too narrow, or too instrumental, to capture all of what we mean by liberal arts education.

That education is not just for success, or for citizenship, it is also valuable for its own sake. Liberal arts education includes a commitment to the idea that learning and research are among the activities that enable the human spirit to soar.

We want you to feel the thrill of discovery, to get carried away by ideas, and to get lost in thought. We hope that amidst the books, experiments, artworks, and equations you will sometimes feel, as Fei-Fei Li did, that you are in the presence of something transcendent.

We hope that these moments and experiences will give you joy and kindle a lifelong love of learning.

Maybe I can rebrand “liberal arts education” as “something transcendent.” I expect, though, that the pollsters would tell me that “transcendence” sounds impractical. They are wrong, I think; transcendent education is truly practical in the best and most important way, because it helps us to be fully human.

Perhaps one of you will come up with a better rebranding. Until then, though, I will just keep talking about “liberal arts education,” regardless of what pollsters say.

Fortunately, Princeton’s brand seems to be doing just fi ne. We proudly declare on our admission website that we provide a liberal arts education, and we explain what that means.⁴ And, as you know, lots of people want to come here!

I am so glad that you wanted to come here.

I am so glad that you are here.

I look forward to getting to know you in the years ahead as you explore the wonder and the mysteries of this place, where I hope that in your classrooms, in the libraries, and throughout this campus, you will encounter something transcendent.

To Princeton’s Great Class of 2028, to our incoming transfer students, to our new graduate students, and to everyone who joins or returns to this beautiful campus as we begin a new academic year, I say:

Welcome to Princeton, and best wishes for the year ahead! Welcome to Princeton! 

1 Fei-Fei Li, The Worlds I See: Curiosity, Exploration, and Discovery at the Dawn of AI (Flatiron Books, 2023), p.67.

2 Li, The Worlds I See: Curiosity, Exploration, and Discovery at the Dawn of AI, p. 70-71.

3 The pollster has published his views. Brandon Busteed, “Higher Education: Drop the Term ‘Liberal Arts,’” Gallup.com, March 28, 2023, https://www.gallup.com/ education/231746/higher-education-drop-term-liberal-arts.aspx.

4 “What Does Liberal Arts Mean? | Princeton Admission,” n.d., https://admission. princeton.edu/academics/what-does-liberal-arts-mean.