Player Piano, by Kurt Vonnegut

 Player Piano is novel about "America in the Coming Age of Electronics." You could also say it foretells an America we're practically in right now.

I've long complained about our over emphasis on college degrees for jobs that don't require them. Even when I was in high school in the early '80s, I found it odd that only one of the school's four guidance counselors ever mentioned any route after graduation other than college. And her alternative to college was the military, a route I had no interest in back then. (For readers who don't know, I retired from the Air Force some years ago.)

I went to college because, of course, that's what you're supposed to do after you graduate high school. It didn't take long before I discovered that I was wholly unprepared for college-level study. I ended my glorious first semester, on an academic scholarship (!), with a 1.23 GPA (and no Fs...that took skill). When I went to register for the Spring semester, stupidly believing someone who thought "your first semester doesn't count for the minimum GPA," and was shocked when they told me I owed thousands in tuition due to losing my scholarship. Well, Mike didn't go to school that semester. (Instead, I went to work full-time at Miller's Outpost, earning $3.35/hour, which then was actually above minimum wage!) 

What's all this got to do with Vonnegut? There's a wonderful exchange in Player Piano between a farmer and a realtor:

"Well," said Doctor Pond, "you can go to college and learn to be a specialist in all sorts of things besides making people or animals well... The modern world would grind to a halt if there weren't men with enough advanced training to keep the complicated parts of civilization working smoothly."

"Um," said [the farmer] apathetically. "What do you keep working so smoothly?"

Doctor Pond smiled modestly. "I spent seven years in the Cornell Graduate School of Realty to qualify for a Doctor of Realty degree and get this job... I think I can say without fear of contradiction that I earned that degree," said Pond coolly. "My thesis was the third longest in any field in the country that year--eight hundred and ninety-six pages, double-spaced, with narrow margins." 

"Real estate salesman," said the farmer. (133)

And this, after the farmer called Doctor Proteus, a doctor of science/engineering and the book's main character, a mechanic. Throughout this book everyone who was anyone had a doctorate. Even Proteus's secretary had a PhD. Genius on the part of Vonnegut. And published in 1952. 

The book also was about the mechanization of everything, robotization, putting people out of work, their only option then being Reeks and Wrecks (Reconstruction and Reclamation Corps) or the Army. Regardless of which you choose, you get basic subsistence. Quite the prediction on Vonnegut's part. 

I'll confess, the book starts slowly, and it is dated. But once you get about 30-40 pages in it starts making its point. I'm glad I read it, following Rachel's Suggested Reading Order (which surprisingly disappeared from the internet sometime in the last 3 days. Here it is at the Wayback Machine.). Next up for me: God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater.