The old adage “knowledge is power” expresses an axiomatic truth. But knowledge is much more than power — it is health, security, wealth, amusement and many more things. Learning, the process by which we obtain knowledge, has its own intrinsic value that we often overlook because we favor the more concrete benefits associated with knowledge.

More so than in many other countries, the education system in America embodies the idea that knowledge has intrinsic value separate from its practical uses. The liberal arts education, a fixture in so many American universities, is a rarity in the rest of the world. Even in the most developed European countries, university students take a more focused set of classes than they do here. Students in other countries often choose their professions (or are assigned a profession) before they ever set foot in a university. As a result, they study subjects related to their intended profession, but often do not receive the equivalent of a well-rounded American liberal arts education.

This is why I so looked forward to starting college. After taking a gap year post high school, I was eager to experience an institution guided by the inherent value in learning. Perhaps my enthusiasm was a bit over the top, for I haven’t yet felt the intellectual environment that I’d hoped to experience. Instead, many students I’ve encountered on campus see their college education merely as an economic investment. They (or their parents) invest $200,000 in a Cornell education and the right to put a Cornell diploma in their future office. In the future, these investors hope to experience a return on their investment with the help of six figure salaries.

To be clear, I am not suggesting that the phenomenon that we might dub “investment learning” is unique to Cornell. I also do not believe that investment learning is unique to colleges or graduate schools. Investment learning is becoming typical of the way Americans approach all stages of their lives. Its prevalence is prototypical of the growing tendency to emphasize the future over the present.

As Americans work harder than ever, slaving away on their BlackBerrys day and night, life in the present is becoming impractical. We spend less time with our families, more time in front of the computer and, as Dr. Maas would note, less time in bed. Americans use their future prospects to justify the deterioration of life in the present. They work longer hours to make more money so that they can look forward to buying smaller Blackberrys, bigger houses, faster cars and sending their children to more expensive colleges. But the cycle is endless and nearly impossible to escape.

Eugene O’Kelly, the former chief executive of a large accounting firm wrote a memoir after being diagnosed with a terminal illness. He writes, “I had always been a great believer in commitment … Unfortunately, though, commitment, particularly in the business world, had come to equal time.”

After receiving his prognosis, O’Kelly underwent a transformation: “I felt that if I could learn to stay in the present moment, to be fully conscious of my surroundings, I would buy myself lots of time that had never been available to me, not in all the years I was healthy.”

O’Kelly learned to appreciate the present only after being diagnosed with terminal cancer. His connection with the present may have been more profound than healthy people are capable of, but there’s room in between for most of us.

The pace of American society leads us to turn our eyes from the present toward the future with the hope of making life more enjoyable. Because the demands of society make day-to-day life so consuming, there is little time to pause and reflect. And because our actions are so often the drivers of our thoughts, we start to believe in the future as a justification for making ourselves miserable in the present.

Fortunately, the structure of the American liberal arts education can be an antidote to the future-over-present way of life that is taking over America. At Cornell, the College of Arts and Sciences has distribution requirements so that students learn to think in different ways. Knowledge is valuable not because it provides for future financial success, but because learning has inherent value. Knowledge is the mere result of learning — a process that occurs in the present.

As Provost Kent Fuchs, President Skorton, other administrators and faculty prepare the (euphemistically dubbed) “Reimagining Cornell”-plan that will guide the University’s efforts to cope with the current economic crisis, I fear for the future of learning at Cornell. Financial constraints on students and the University alike have the perturbing potential to accelerate the current societal trends that deemphasize learning for learning’s sake and the liberal arts.

Such a deep-seated realignment of values goes beyond affecting the variety and quality of classes offered and students attracted to Cornell. Institutionalized financial de-emphasis of the liberal arts will change the very nature Cornell’s learning environment. As the University’s leader’s “reimagine” Cornell, I urge them not to “reimagine” the liberal arts and the important values that they foster.

Perry Swergold is a freshman in the College of Arts and Sciences. He may be reached at ps534@cornell.edu. Guest Room appears periodically.