This blog post is written as a critical response to the ongoing discourses and taxpayer dollars that are deployed to target the critical humanities and social sciences. In this post, I turn the ongoing extremist discourse around "taxpayer dollars" on its head, interrogating the "use value" of Business Studies, the love child of right-wing extremists who would love to redo the University as an extension of Business.
Universities, once envisioned as sites of critical inquiry and
emancipatory knowledge, are increasingly co-opted by the logic of the market.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the proliferation of business studies
programs—management, marketing, finance, entrepreneurship—that dominate
academic landscapes worldwide. These disciplines, draped in the rhetoric of
"use value," promise practical skills, employability, and relevance
in the "real world." But what does it mean for knowledge to be
"useful"? Who decides what is useful, and to what ends? As a scholar who has grappled with communication practice of the everyday rooted in the culture-centered approach to communication and social justice, I
interrogate the concept of use value in business studies, exposing its
political underpinnings and questioning its place in the university. In doing
so, I challenge the very notion of "use" that undergirds these
programs and call for a reimagination of what knowledge—and its purpose—can be.
The Seduction of Use Value
The appeal of business studies in the neoliberal University rests on its claim to deliver use
value—knowledge that is immediately applicable, market-friendly, and geared
toward economic success. Universities market these programs as pathways to
lucrative careers, equipping students with tools to navigate corporate
boardrooms, optimize supply chains, or launch startups. The language is
seductive: "real-world skills," "industry relevance,"
"return on investment." Yet, this obsession with use value demands
scrutiny. What is being valued, and for whom?
Use value, as constructed in business studies, is narrowly defined
by the imperatives of neoliberal capitalism. It prioritizes profit, efficiency,
and competition, framing the "useful" as that which serves the
market. A marketing course teaches students how to manipulate consumer desires,
not how to question the ethics of consumerism. A finance curriculum celebrates
speculative wealth creation, sidestepping the devastation wrought by financial
crises on marginalized communities. Entrepreneurship classes fetishize the
individual innovator, erasing the collective labor and structural inequalities
that underpin economic systems.
This version of use value is not neutral. It is deeply political,
rooted in a worldview that naturalizes corporate power and marginalizes
alternative ways of knowing. When business schools teach "global
strategy," they rarely interrogate the colonial histories of trade or the
exploitation of Global South labor. When they champion "disruption,"
they overlook the communities displaced by tech giants or gig economies. Use
value, as defined here, serves the interests of capital, not the public good.
It constructs a world where knowledge is only valuable if it can be monetized,
leaving little room for critical reflection, ethical deliberation, or social
transformation.
The Politics of Use
To interrogate use value is to uncover the politics of who gets to
define "use" and whose interests it serves. Business studies
programs, often bankrolled by corporate donors and shaped by industry
partnerships, are embedded in a power structure that privileges elite voices.
The curricula reflect this bias: case studies glorify Western multinationals,
leadership models valorize charismatic CEOs, and economic theories assume
market rationality. Where are the voices of workers, indigenous communities, or
grassroots cooperatives in these narratives? The "use" of business
studies is designed for a specific audience—those who aspire to join the
corporate elite—not for those whose lives are exploited or erased by corporate
practices.
This politics of use also manifests in access. Business schools,
with their exorbitant fees and exclusive networks, cater to the privileged.
Internships and opportunities are often funneled through corporate pipelines,
reinforcing class and racial hierarchies. The "use value" of a
business degree is thus contingent on one’s proximity to power. For
marginalized students, the promise of employability often rings hollow, as they
navigate workplaces shaped by systemic inequities.
Moreover, the politics of use value distorts the university’s
purpose. Universities are meant to be spaces for questioning, imagining, and
challenging the status quo. Yet, business studies often reduces education to
vocational training, producing graduates who are technically proficient but
critically disengaged. By prioritizing "useful" skills over
intellectual curiosity, these programs undermine the university’s role as a
public good. They create a culture where knowledge is judged by its immediate
marketability, sidelining disciplines like philosophy, literature, or sociology
that foster critical thinking but lack clear "use" in corporate
terms.
Questioning the Concept of Use: Why we need critique
To challenge the uselessness of business studies, we must first
question the concept of use itself. Use, as defined by the market, is a
reductive metric that flattens the richness of human experience. It assumes a
singular purpose—economic productivity—while dismissing other forms of value:
communal well-being, ecological sustainability, cultural preservation. What if
we redefined use to mean knowledge that empowers communities, dismantles
oppression, or nurtures solidarity? What if use value included the courage to
question capitalist excesses or the imagination to envision alternative
economies?
Business studies, in its current form, fails this broader
conception of use. Its curricula rarely engage with the structural violences of
capitalism—poverty, inequality, climate collapse—or the possibilities of
non-capitalist systems like cooperatives, mutual aid, or indigenous economies.
Instead, it perpetuates a myth of inevitability: that the market is the only
viable framework for organizing society. This is not use; it is indoctrination.
The uselessness of business studies lies in its refusal to grapple
with these questions. It offers tools for navigating the world as it is, not
for transforming it. It trains students to manage systems of exploitation, not
to dismantle them. It celebrates "use" as compliance with the market,
not as a commitment to justice.
Reimagining Knowledge and Use: The Concept of Justice
If business studies is to have a place in the university, it must
be radically reimagined. Rather than standalone programs, commerce could be
integrated into interdisciplinary frameworks that prioritize critical inquiry
and social good. Imagine courses that combine economics with postcolonial
studies to unpack global trade’s inequities, or management with feminist theory
to explore equitable leadership. Imagine pedagogies that center marginalized
voices—workers’ cooperatives, indigenous economic practices, or grassroots
movements—over corporate case studies.
Such a reimagination would redefine use value.
Knowledge would be
"useful" not because it serves the market but because it empowers
communities to build just, sustainable futures. It would foster a collective
"us"—not the homogenous "us" of corporate teams or
entrepreneurial elites, but a pluralistic "us" rooted in solidarity
across differences. This "us" would align with the university’s
original mission: to generate knowledge for the public good, not private
profit.
A Call to Education for Social Justice
The uselessness of business studies is not inherent to its subject matter but to its uncritical embrace of a market-driven notion of use value.
As
students, educators, and activists, we must resist this commodification of
knowledge. We must demand curricula that interrogate the politics of use,
amplify silenced voices, and prioritize planetary and human well-being over
profit.
Let us redefine "us" as a collective of dreamers and doers, committed to knowledge that liberates rather than enslaves.
The struggle begins here, in the heart of the academy. Let’s make it count.