What we select, what we leave out, what we do, what we don’t do. These are the essential ingredients of education.
We are swimming in an ocean of information. But there has always been more to know than any one person can possibly know. We are just more aware of that now. We have better tools to access the far-flung, abstruse, and recherché.
Which calls into question our notion of what “knowing” anything means. The classic argument against teaching that focuses on particular content (“knowledge rich”) is that it’s pointless to spend time in second grade learning about, say, the War of 1812 when a) who cares and b) if you need/want to learn about it, just ask Siri.
This argument doesn’t stand up to much scrutiny, and mostly because background knowledge is just another way of saying “literacy.”
Allow me to make a stronger case for the “knowledge acquisition is a waste of time” crowd than the one above. This one is based on the idea that we don’t know what we think we know, and that if you think you know everything about the War of 1812 because you had a unit on it in second grade, you will be less curious/more falsely confident.
Now that is a good point. Which is why I think (and I think most people on either side of this issue do) that education has to be about more than just the facts. But here’s the thing – the facts are a pretty darn good starting point to discuss the big ideas and questions that have been part of our human experience for millenia.
There is a lot of belly-aching about fake news these days. And it mostly comes from people who are worried that we no longer have any consensus on the facts. These are sometimes the same people who (under different political regimes) argue in favor of constructivist models of education – i.e., students learn best through discovery and through constructing meaning with their peers in groups. The same crowd that gets worked into a lather about the “industrial model” of education. The same crowd that hopes the government will regulate speech because we’re all just too stupid now to distinguish truth from lies.
Hmm. I wonder if there is a correlation between schools de-emphasizing knowledge (as opposed to “strategies” or “skills” or “critical thinking” or “practical” subjects) and our sense that there is a crisis of both civic life and civics education.
I don’t believe that all schools have to teach the same curriculum for schools to do a better job of teaching citizens that facts matter. It’s not the explicit but the implicit curriculum of schools that has taught Americans to care less about facts, knowledge, or what a person says that matters, and to put a far higher premium on subjective interpretations or constructions of reality.
Learning that there was a war that happened in 1812 may seem pointless. But if a school’s curriculum is otherwise healthy, it will use this fact to help students understand, as they grow more mature, that our republic is fragile. It has been from basically the beginning. Sometimes the threats have been external, sometimes internal. And this realization should point us towards the virtue of moderation. And a shared sense of moderation is a pretty good basis for a civil society.
What we select, what we leave out, what we do, what we don’t do. These are the essential ingredients of education.
This is a re-post from a blog I wrote at Ricochet.com.
As I watched the livestream of Senator Ben Sasse’s keynote address kicking off this year’s ExcelInEd Conference, I was reminded of a fairly famous Latin phrase: non scholae sed vitae discimus – we learn not for school but for life.
Senator Sasse is a smart guy, a former college president, and well-read. I’m a fan of his frequent appearances on Jonah Goldberg’s podcast. His thesis this morning was “Education and schooling are not the same thing.” It’s a pretty bold thing to say that to a group of people whose livings depend on … schools. So kudos to him for speaking the truth.
It’s because I’m a fan and supporter that I thought it was worthwhile to point out a couple of issues that tend to undermine rather than bolster his thesis. He leads with a talking point that has been used ad naseum by the fans of John Dewey — whom Sasse rightly goes on to critique.
He characterizes the current form of education that we have as based on a “Prussian” model, in which students sit in age-segregated rows and learn primarily through lecture. He describes it as an “industrial model” of education, designed to maximize social control and prepare students for jobs in factories. This banality is trotted out by those advocating progressive (i.e. Dewey-an) reforms, such as more group work (“cooperative learning”) and constructivist approaches to learning.
Yet Dewey was Senator Sasse’s target as the popularizer of the “industrial model.” Something isn’t adding up here.
And, I have to add, this idea that lecture is the primary mode for most student instruction in public schools and that they all sit in rows is a strawman. Teachers, especially in elementary grades, are taught in schools of education (and therefore heavily influenced by Dewey) that young children should work in groups, precisely in order to achieve the “socializing” effect that Dewey wanted to achieve. Students would “construct” meaning not based on truth or on facts that the teacher might have been in position to share, but based on interactions and input from their peers.
The old-timey pictures of kids sitting in rows and learning by lecture, well, they exemplified Catholic education in the 19th and part of the 20th centuries. And guess what? Up to mid-century, these schools may have been the best poverty intervention program ever introduced into American cities. It was a school like this (St. Pius X in Savannah, GA) that shaped and set Justice Clarence Thomas on his path in life, for instance.
Anyway, back to Dewey. He had a strong distrust/dislike of Catholic education, a point which Sasse correctly invokes. Dewey did not like the idea of knowledge for knowledge’s sake, an older and (yes) classical notion of education.
When people who favor educational freedom, revolutionizing funding structures, and generally shaking up the way we think about what school (i.e., my tribe) trot out the “industrial model” argument, it sets my teeth on edge. Lots and lots of schools used (and still use) a lecture mode, with a teacher doing teacher things, and students doing student things, like paying attention, taking notes, and asking/answering questions. A lot of these were Catholic schools. I truly don’t think you can blame this convenient set-up (which we know dates back millenia, v.i.) for all the problems with education in this country.
The bigger issue is that we ask schools to do too much. This goes back to Dewey’s articulation of the idea that the school should be the vehicle through which the child is “socialized.” And these social ends tend to be measurable outcomes like employment.
This is the verse in the hymn where conservatives and libertarians join the choir — obviously, employment/economic productivity is an outcome that we want, and since taxpayers are footing the bill whether someone learns to read or ends up incarcerated, let’s make sure schools are focused on skills-acquisition.
You hear a lot these days about career and technical education (CTE) and I’m very much in favor of there being lots more available. But I’ve also heard industry leaders basically make the Bismarkian case that public school systems should be responsive to their workforce needs (based on 5 and 10 year projections). They tend to be the same folks who talk about 21st Century Skills and Critical Thinking. Because these seem to support the idea that students will be employable/economically productive after graduation, lots of education reformers (especially on the right, broadly understood) get on board.
Other flavors prefer schools to be in the business of making good citizens or creating entrepreneurs. These too, are both a little too narrow and too broad.
Which brings me back to that Latin phrase. Guess what? While that phrase is attributed to Seneca the Younger, it was actually an inversion of what he wrote. He was anticipating an argument against a literary (classical) education from his correspondent, Lucilius. These letters, by the way, have gotten additional attention lately given an English edition that Tim Ferriss recently published, based on Gummere’s translation.
So who inverted the phrase? That’s right. Germans.
It is exceedingly easy to say that we should learn things for life and not for school. But by placing “life” or “practical considerations” as the end of education, those in power are predetermining the course that families, absent a context of full choice, can make. There are choices that schools and school systems make about what is out and what is in – the selection of some texts, the absence of others. And if the system decides that its job is to fit students for “life” (whatever the trendy or cronyistic definition of skills happens to be at the moment), the results will be poor.
My Stoic point of view may be showing here, but the point of education ought to be self-governance. Socialization, in the Deweyan sense, is the exact opposite of this goal. I urge my fellow travelers to avoid adopting the progressive the “industrial model” line of argumentation (complete with invocation of paper tigers like drill/kill, sage on the stage, etc.), and realize that when they make arguments in favor of schools that will adapt students better to a new age of disruption, they are simply following in the footsteps of Dewey, and replacing one measurable, socially acceptable goal with another.
Senator Sasse rounds out his talk by reminding his audience that students “aren’t widgets, they are souls.” And I think this is a far more compelling line of argumentation to pursue. Since it is folks like him who shape the narrative of policy discussions, I’d urge him to resist the use hackneyed progressive tropes about “industrial education” and instead make the case from first principles.
The moral high ground in this debate is that parents and families should be in charge of defining both the end towards which and the means by which they educate their children. Some may just choose to put their kids in desks that are in (heaven forbid) rows.
This is a repost from a blog I wrote at Ricochet.com.
I had the opportunity to watch a livestream of an event hosted by the Fordham Institute, Education 20/20. Jonah Goldberg was one of the two featured speakers. It was great, and I appreciated that Michael Petrelli, who was the moderator, highlighted that the best approach to addressing the issue was persuasion.
Mr. Goldberg mentioned that the private schools in his area (the DMV) are highly progressive in their approach, relying on the Howard Zinn narrative of American history. He noted that “school choice” may not solve the issue of kids not learning civics, tying this issue to the larger Schumpeterian phenomenon of the elites failing to pass along the values that made their position and wealth (capitalism itself) possible.
I wanted to bring up a couple of points that I think may be of interest in the context of what seems to be a contradiction – on the one hand, we want to expand the choices that families have in educating their students, and on the other hand, that we are concerned that too many kids are not learning civics.
First, here’s an excerpt from Corey DeAngelis’s recent work on the outcomes for students in private schools, specifically related to positive civics outcomes:
It’s time we set the record straight. The preponderance of the evidence suggests that private school choice improves test scores, high school graduation rates, tolerance, civic engagement, criminality, racial integration, and public school performance. And, of course, all of these benefits come at a lower cost to the taxpayer.
It supports Mr. Goldberg’s hunch that stronger local ties and local control would actually increase the sense of belonging and sense of gratitude, not to mention the “thickness” of social networks.
Second, I wanted to highlight the work of an organization that is doing EXACTLY what Mr. Goldberg identified as a need in schools, and doing it through voluntary, rather than compulsory, means. The Bill of Rights Institute, led by Dr. David Bobb. Their mission, “Educating Individuals about a Free Society,” is focused on reaching middle and high school students, largely in public schools, to read and interpret primary texts, understand both sides of the debate, and have civil and informed conversations. They also do amazing work to educate teachers in founding ideas and documents.
If you are inclined to support and organization that has been dedicated to the importance of civics before it was the latest “sexy” trend in education, you really couldn’t do better than BRI. Also, if you happen to live in the Dallas-Fort Worth area and would like to see one of BRI’s events in action, Dr. Bobb will be speaking at the Bill of Rights Day at Founders Classical Academy in Lewisville, TX.