Today’s post explores our list-making tendencies—and the deeper drive for accomplishment and control that often fuels them. As our entry point, I’ll turn to one of Arnold Lobel’s Frog and Toad stories: “A List.” It’s a gentle invitation to consider whether there might be better ways to spend our days and pursue our purpose.
You may notice that this is the second time here at CSR I’ve centered a children’s story, and you might be wondering. Well, Jesus spoke in parables. Simple stories. Why? Tim Keller notes that parables reveal (to the hungry) and conceal (from the hardened), engage the heart before the mind, allowing a simple story to disarm the listener, subvert expectation, and that they often reveal the hidden, surprising, and costly nature of God’s kingdom.
So, will I have enough skill to do all that Keller indicates Jesus was doing with his simple stories? Not quite. I’m limited (very limited in so many ways!), He is infinite. The children’s stories I sometimes unpack, although beautiful, are created by humans. Jesus’s parables are divine. Yet, I hope to uncover some helpful wisdom in this story of Lobel’s.
In A List, Toad writes out a simple plan for his day—tasks he’s happy to cross off one by one. But when a gust of wind carries the list away, he’s suddenly lost. “Help!” cried Toad. “My list is blowing away. What will I do without my list?” After a fruitless chase, Frog sits beside him. They share quiet time together, and eventually, Toad remembers the final item on his list: “Go to sleep.”
One thing we can see in this simple story is the danger of the modern preoccupation with achievement, busyness, and pace. Toad becomes beholden to his tasks, missing the joy in time with a friend. It’s a rhythm many of us recognize. Have you had that season where it is all about getting things done, while at the same time, in the midst of constant digital distraction?
As is often the case in Lobel’s stories, Frog sees deeper. From the start, it is clear that he’s not enamored of the list but focused on being a good friend. He honors Toad by initially attacking the items on this list, and he runs to try to track down the windswept scrap of paper. But his heart is in the quiet moments and in the gift of presence. First, he tries to help Toad in his lostness, and then Frog simply sits with him. Does your life need a bit more of Frog’s sensibility? Are you rushing from cross-off to cross-off, with no quiet time for your people, or for your God?
Since here I’m hoping to discuss the theme of forming engineers, let’s take a moment to look at the ‘engineering education list.’ Just as Toad clings to his list, engineering education has long held tightly to its own—an evolving checklist of outcomes and reforms. But has it truly led us where we hoped?
While the full history is too complex for this simple post, let me sum up. (1) Prior to the 1940’s, engineering curricula were mostly practical, which changed toward a more theoretical approach after an emphasis on research following WWII. (2) By the 1980’s, this approach and economic shifts left engineering graduates technically prepared but lacking professional skills necessary for global competitiveness. (3) A re-emphasis on communication, teamwork, use of modern engineering tools, technical writing, lifelong learning, and engineering design in the early 2000’s led to some improvement in these areas. As one report noted,
Perhaps most important, graduates in 2004 were measurably better prepared than their counterparts of a decade ago in all of the nine learning areas assessed. The greatest increases were in understanding of societal and global issues, the ability to apply engineering skills, teamwork, and the appreciation of ethics and professional issues—all attributes U.S. engineers need to compete successfully in a competitive, global economy.
Since then, however, institutional priorities (and rankings) may have shifted even further toward research, and the tsunami of digital distraction and now AI has rolled over the whole enterprise. I would argue that the pendulum, which moved somewhat in a good direction in the early 2000s, has moved the other way since. Student persistence in engineering remains a major challenge, especially for underrepresented groups. Graduation rates have been flat for decades rather than improving. A significant number of engineering graduates leave the profession within the first 5-10 years, or never enter it at all, with this trend especially prevalent for women. There are documented rising levels of burnout, stress, and disenchantment. For 40+ years, employers have continued to note that graduates lack the relational and ethical discernment needed in the workplace. The list has blown away. Perhaps it is time to let it go, stop chasing after it, and write a new, simple one that we can rest in.[1]
Suffice it to say, I believe that the Christ-shaped engineer is the answer. It isn’t a long list. It is three things: technical excellence, relational aptitude, and a direction that points toward God – a Christ-centered approach.
In the engineering programs I steward, I think there are at least three things that stand out that we are doing right. First (and foremost), we say, mean, and live out that we are authentically Christian. This is the foundation for everything else. Second, we don’t speak about ‘careers’ much – we talk about vocation. Vocation is deeper and leads us toward following our calling, our God-given purpose, and an approach leaning toward ultimate meaning. And third, we talk often about forming Christ-shaped engineers (for more on what this means, see here). This last approach anchors our engineering education list. And because of the first item I mentioned? It’s in no danger of being blown away.
[1] See Retention in engineering pathways: an ecological belonging intervention supports help-seeking and continued enrollment | International Journal of STEM Education | Full Text and Engineering The Future: Where Have All the Workers Gone? | Informed Infrastructure
Ok, this is kinda funny/sad at the same moment. After writing out a long to-do list (yes, I’m still old school), I read your post. If the wind took it, I’d be more that distraught–“What am I supposed to do now?” Pass along my regards to Frog for the helpful reminder:). And, thank you for your insights.