The Cult of the Professor

Long before Moodle or recorded lectures, in ancient Athens, education (for upper-class boys, at least) meant being dependent on a single teacher. The ideal was depth over breadth: a years-long course of study under one person, where learning meant immersion into a single, coherent vision of the world. The most famous examples of this are Socrates’ tutelage of Plato and Aristotle’s tutelage of Alexander the Great. And while this style of education has largely fallen out of fashion, the idea of the single, charismatic teacher has never quite disappeared. 

Two thousand years later, the modern university is insistent upon variety. In first-year modules, students often have upwards of five lecturers per course, with different professors teaching on different days. Tutorials offer a more personalised counterpoint to this system, closer to the Greek model, with sustained attention from a single teacher in a small group, where students can work through their arguments, blind spots, and habits of thought.

This personalised model, of course, leads certain professors and tutors to acquire followings of devoted students, those who sign up over and over for tutorial slots or show up to book readings. On 16 February, I attended a talk put on by the St Andrews Catholic Society, where three theologians from St Mary’s came to answer questions about faith: Professor George Corbett, Professor Judith Wolfe, and Dr Rebekah Lamb. The hall was packed, significantly more packed than usual for the Monday-night speaker series. Over the course of the evening, it became apparent that the audience was mostly made up of the loyal students of the three professors. One student, who chose to remain anonymous, told me that they attended the talk specifically for Judith Wolfe. 

“I think that [Wolfe] definitely draws people to study theology, and she has incredibly original takes on things,” said the student. “She is just incredibly bright, and everyone talks about it all the time. I mean, she's got an amazing mind, and you can see that in class. And you can also just see that when you talk to her.” 

While Wolfe clearly captivates her students, the admiration doesn’t stop with her; it reflects a broader recognition of the theology department’s accomplished faculty.

“I think people here also really care about and are passionate about their subjects and having such accomplished people in the department […] everyone else in the theology department seems to be a leading figure in modern theological scholarship, which is crazy,” the student continued. “But I think that they serve as sort of aspirational figures for a lot of the students, which is always good, you know?”

There is certainly something worthwhile about this kind of admiration: it suggests that ideas still matter enough to gather a crowd, and that some students care enough about a person’s way of thinking to step out into a cold Monday evening simply to hear it. Universities should want professors who inspire that kind of loyalty. They should want students who care enough to show up. But that kind of admiration does carry a risk.

Second-year theology student William Hirst was more sceptical. “In my mind, I feel like a cult following dissuades from the overall ideas they’re trying to present,” he said. “If you’re attracted to the person, not the idea, then how can you be expected to learn about the idea?”

Hirst’s concern cuts to the heart of the issue. When admiration for a professor begins to eclipse engagement with their claims, the focus shifts from ideas to individuals, and the very purpose of education (to cultivate independent thinking) risks being undermined. In my opinion, true learning comes from wrestling with competing perspectives, questioning assumptions, and forming independent judgments. The modern university’s system of balancing this tension through diversity of teaching ensures that students are constantly challenged to think for themselves, and while the appeal of the ancient Greek system of the single great teacher may be desirable, its risks are equally clear: without the checks provided by multiple intellectual perspectives, admiration can slip into deference, and students may end up following cults of personalities rather than cultivating their own reasoning.

Illustration by Ana Brockmann Aldasoro