In elementary school, I could not stop writing; in my free time, I was etching out some story about a princess-warrior, and in school, I was daydreaming about her magic wand. Consequently, although my English teachers absolutely adored me as I read away—only the best, of course, like Corduroy and Strega Nona—my math teachers didn’t show the same appreciation, probably because I cared more about how Harry Potter was going to find that last Horcrux than what fraction of the Italian flag was green. In fifth grade, though, my mathematical disgrace pushed me toward studying extra hours outside of school until I could finally do algebra with ease.
Fast-forward to Milton, which rejects this kind of individual self-regulation in its course requirements of English for all four years yet only two math classes. While history, science, and language requirements also constitute important aspects of the curriculum, I focus on math and English because they boil two educational pathways down to their bare bones: STEM and the humanities. These two pathways value two different kinds of thinking: STEM’s logical, methodical approach of objective truth and the humanities’ analytical, metaphorical approach of subjective opinion. Despite their respective importance, Milton’s severe imbalance in the requirements for these two pathways reveals a pitiable regard for the objective scientific truth that reflects a larger trend across the nation.
First, let me clarify that the subjectivity embraced by the humanities reflects an intrinsic individualism that I deeply admire. Exploring our own thoughts and perceptions of the world reveals a key aspect of humanity, but the connection between the “humanities” and “humanity” itself reinforces a misconception that scientifically examining the objective world around us is somehow “less human” and thus less valuable. A simple investigation into mathematical applications can dispel this notion: numbers can describe so much of the human experience—linguistics, behavior, physicality—that correlating only history, reading, and writing with humanity excludes much understanding. This excluded understanding, however, encapsulates a different view than that traditionally associated with humanity: a STEM-related lens on humanity presents a global, widely applicable take on society. Our educational systems should value this outward-looking trait immensely more than classic, introspective interpretations. For example, in English, dissecting texts leads to discoveries of one’s own inner self, while in math, deconstructing operations pinpoints an objective analysis of the world’s inner workings.
Milton’s mission statement, proudly proclaimed on the school’s website, prioritizes individuals’ “passion for learning” and “competence, confidence, and character.” Under the individualistic nature of the humanities, it makes sense that a school with such an inclination towards English over math would present self-growth as its mission. Nonetheless, alternate approaches to learning that value the world over the individual do enjoy success; for example, Phillips Exeter Academy’s motto, “Non Sibi,” or “Not for Oneself,” interprets the ultimate goal of learning as furthering society’s knowledge and emphasizing “one’s place in the larger whole,” as Exeter’s 2025–2026 course catalogue states.
Many societal advances remain to be achieved, whether “environmental, socioeconomic, or biological,” as Forbes magazine Senior Contributor Ryan Craig stresses. However, these opportunities and, in fact, most societally useful discoveries, emerge from the fields of STEM. Yet, as a 2018 study by Burning Glass Technologies revealed, only 15% of newly added college courses nationwide classify as STEM, while 75% focus on humanities. Craig interprets that this disparity isn’t because all possible STEM courses already proudly sit in course catalogues, dominating humanities; it’s because colleges are ignoring huge opportunities for groundbreaking technological courses. Nanotechnology, cybersecurity, artificial intelligence, and climate technology, only a few possibilities named by Craig, are astoundingly absent from most universities.
Worryingly, this trivialization of STEM courses comes at a time of heightened technological demand: besides the need for feasible climate solutions, for the nanotechnological opportunities in biology, and for the necessity of safeguard improvement in artificial intelligence, the U.S. is also overlooking another “Sputnik moment,” according to Walter G. Copan and Andrei Iancu from the Center for Strategic and International Studies. Although the U.S. has long enjoyed a lead in the global economic and technological race, the U.S. and China now speed ahead neck-and-neck, but one difference, now hindering the U.S., could decide the next true global power: federal research funding. According to the National Education Association, recent cuts by U.S. President Donald Trump’s administration has decimated 1,600 National Science Foundation (NSF) grants that amount to more than $1.5 billion and include huge university programs, like Harvard’s with $150 million from the NSF. As the entire country’s scientific innovation begins to take slower steps, educational institutions should assume a civil duty to encourage STEM at unprecedented volumes, even at the cost of humanities.
We students, seated at the deciding table along with our generation, must turn our glances away from ourselves and towards the center of the table and towards the empty space that surrounds our idle hands. Milton must reflect this urgent need for selfless action by decreasing the unreasonable English requirement of four years and increasing STEM requirements, especially through math’s increase from two to at least three years. It’s time for all of us to act on “Non Sibi” and ask how we can help instead of how we should write interpretive sentences.