In school we learn wonderful things like how to find integrals, solve equations, and how to calculate valence electrons of elements based on their atomic numbers. Because, obviously, they will be very important in our futures -- especially if we become artists, musicians, writers, actors, and business people.
We learn so much in school. Yet, when most people look at paintings they don’t truly understand them. When most people listen to music, they don’t really know what they’re hearing. Most people would fail simple music theory tests, even though many have listened to music most days of the week since they were babies!
Similarly, if you have working eyes, you should ask “Why do shadows look like they do? What color is snow, really? Can I predict the colors of different colored materials at different times of the day? If not, why? I have been seeing them for years, haven’t I?”
I think the problem here is that people can’t understand what is really important. Calculus, mechanical physics, chemistry, microiology, etc. are interesting to learn, perhaps. But, they are relatively advanced topics. People don’t use them in daily life unless they are professionals. Why not learn things that we think about every day instead of those that will frankly be useless to most?
Why don’t we learn how to understand our senses?
Learning about sight, sounds, thoughts, etc. should fit in somewhere in the first year of high school. Everyone needs to learn the physics of art and color (e.g. this and this), music theory, rationality, and logic.
For example, why should people start learning (or pretending to learn) philosophy, the art of thinking, in college? Should we be able to make life-changing decisions without even knowing how to spot errors in our thinking?
As a science researcher, I know first hand how hard it is to find a good balance between being well versed in worldly topics and being focused on a field in order to excel in it. But, both of these areas of study should not be called the true basics, in my opinion.
As president of my school's philosophy club, I took a different approach to teaching the basics of philosophy and thinking than traditional classes do. Instead of asking students to discuss the lives and ideas of famous Greek philosophers, I asked them to analyze their own lives and make their own philosophies. As expected, they were terrible at it at first. But, by the end of the year people began to actually think about the world around them.
So, my point is that we should -- in life and in school -- emphasize actual everyday thinking more.
The biggest challenge is that it takes so long!
Well, we do research on nearly any topic you can think of in the orbit of music's technical elements, history, interaction with culture, and interaction with individual people. There is a slowly-eroding bias toward working on "classical" music, i.e. music of the Western European "art music" tradition, although musics from outside that tradition are (as of the last couple of decades) now entirely accepted as legitimate at least in principle, and have attracted quite a bit of scholarship since they were under-studied until recently.
A few examples of the kinds of things music scholars might do:
The field has largely moved on from its 1990s-era infatuation with postmodernism and a reasonably high level of scholarly rigor is present -- this is not to say that no junk gets published or that music scholarship ever does (or should) resemble an exact science.
A few things that distinguish the best professional music scholarship from crankery:
I don't claim that these standards are met in every published piece of music scholarship, but they are what the profession aspires to and usually attains. I don't think music scholarship is as difficult as science assuming the necessary preparation, but the fact is that the necessary preparation in terms of gaining fluency with music notation, music theory, and music history takes a long time and is a high bar to clear for most people who aren't professionals.
I like most of your comment very much - but I visited the webpage of the trainwreck, and I agree with all of it. The claims the author is making are quite modest. I am willing to go out on a limb as far as he did, and say that 12-tone music is objectively superior to atonal music; that some combinations of notes are more useful than others; that some chord progressions are more useful than others; and that fractal structure, at least as far as having some instruments providing beats at low frequencies and others at multiples of that frequency, is often a good thing.