[D66] The Tyranny Of Compulsory Schooling
R.O.
jugg at ziggo.nl
Sun Aug 16 14:44:11 CEST 2020
http://www.school-survival.net/articles/school/history/The_tyranny_of_compulsory_schooling.php
The Tyranny Of Compulsory Schooling
by John Taylor Gatto <http://www.johntaylorgatto.com/>
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Let me speak to you about dumbness because that is what schools teach
best. Old-fashioned dumbness used to be simple ignorance: you didn't
know something, but there were ways to find out if you wanted to.
Government-controlled schooling didn't eliminate dumbness - in fact, we
now know that people read more fluently before we had forced schooling -
but dumbness was transformed.
Now dumb people aren't just ignorant; they're the victims of the
non-thought of secondhand ideas. Dumb people are now well-informed about
the opinions of Time magazine and CBS, The New York Times and the
President; their job is to choose which pre-thought thoughts, which
received opinions, they like best. The élite in this new empire of
ignorance are those who know the most pre-thought thoughts.
Mass dumbness is vital to modern society. The dumb person is wonderfully
flexible clay for psychological shaping by market research, government
policymakers; public-opinion leaders, and any other interest group. The
more pre-thought thoughts a person has memorized, the easier it is to
predict what choices he or she will make. What dumb people cannot do is
think for themselves or ever be alone for very long without feeling
crazy. That is the whole point of national forced schooling; we aren't
supposed to be able to think for ourselves because independent thinking
gets in the way of "professional" think-ing, which is believed to follow
rules of scientific precision.
Modern scientific stupidity masquerades as intellectual knowledge -
which it is not. Real knowledge has to be earned by hard and painful
thinking; it can't be generated in group discussions or group therapies
but only in lonely sessions with yourself. Real knowledge is earned only
by ceaseless questioning of yourself and others, and by the labor of
independent verification; you can't buy it from a government agent, a
social worker, a psychologist, a licensed specialist, or a
schoolteacher. There isn't a public school in this country set up to
allow the discovery of real knowledge - not even the best ones -
although here and there individual teachers, like guerrilla fighters,
sabotage the system and work toward this ideal. But since schools are
set up to classify people rather than to see them as unique, even the
best schoolteachers are strictly limited in the amount of questioning
they can tolerate.
The new dumbness - the non thought of received ideas - is much more
dangerous than simple ignorance, because it's really about thought
control. In school, a washing away of the innate power of individual
mind takes place, a "cleansing" so comprehensive that original thinking
becomes difficult. If you don't believe this development was part of the
intentional design of schooling, you should read William Torrey Harris's
The Philosophy of Education. Harris was the U.S. Commissioner of
Education at the turn of the century and the man most influential in
standardizing our schools. Listen to the man.
"Ninety-nine [students] out of a hundred," writes Harris, "are automata,
careful to walk in prescribed paths, careful to follow the prescribed
custom." This is not all accident, Harris explains, but the "result of
substantial education, which, scientifically defined, is the subsumption
of the individual." Scientific education subsumes the individual until
his or her behavior becomes robotic. Those are the thoughts of the most
influential U.S. Commissioner of Education we've had so far.
The great theological scholar Dietrich Bonhoeffer raised this issue of
the new dumbness in his brilliant analysis of Nazism, in which he sought
to comprehend how the best-schooled nation in the world, Germany, could
fall under its sway. He concluded that Nazism could be understood only
as the psychological product of good schooling. The sheer weight of
received ideas, pre-thought thoughts, was so overwhelming that
individuals gave up trying to assess things for themselves. Why
struggle- to invent a map of the world or of the human conscience when
schools and media offer thousands of ready-made maps, pre-thought thoughts?
The new dumbness is particularly deadly to middle and upper-middle-class
people, who have already been made shallow by the multiple requirements
to conform. Too many people, uneasily convinced that they must know
something because of a degree, diploma, or license, remain so convinced
until a brutal divorce, alienation from their children, loss of
employment, or periodic fits of meaninglessness manage to tip the
precarious mental balance of their incomplete humanity, their stillborn
adult lives.
Listen to William Harris again, the dark genius of American schooling,
the man who gave you scientifically age-graded classrooms:
The great purposes of school can be realized better in dark, airless,
ugly places than in beautiful halls. It is to master the physical self,
to transcend the beauty of nature. School should develop the power to
withdraw from the external world.
Harris thought, a hundred years ago, that self-alienation was the key to
a successful society. Filling the young mind with the thoughts of others
and surrounding it with ugliness - that was the passport to
self-alienation. Who can say that he was wrong?
II
I want to give you a yardstick, a gold standard, by which to measure
good schooling. The Shelter Institute in Bath, Maine will teach you how
to build a three thousand square-foot, multi-level Cape Cod home in
three weeks' time, whatever your age. If you stay another week, it will
show you how to make your own posts and beams; you'll actually cut them
out and set them up. You'll learn wiring, plumbing, insulation, the
works. Twenty thousand people have learned how to build a house there
for about the cost of one month's tuition in public school. (Call Patsy
Hennon at 207/442-7938, and she'll get you started on building your own
home.) For just about the same money you can walk down the street in
Bath to the Apprentice Shop at the Maine Maritime Museum [now in
Rockport - ed.] and sign on for a one-year course (no vacations, forty
hours a week) in traditional wooden boat building. The whole tuition is
eight hundred dollars, but there's a catch: they won't accept you as a
student until you volunteer for two weeks, so they can get to know you
and you can judge what it is you're getting into. Now you've invested
thirteen months and fifteen hundred dollars and you have a house and a
boat. What else would you like to know? How to grow food, make clothes,
repair a car, build furni-ture, sing? Those of you with a historical
imagination will recognize Thomas Jefferson's prayer for schooling -
that it would teach useful knowledge. Some places do: the best schooling
in the United States today is coming out of museums, libraries, and
private institutes. If anyone wants to school your kids, hold them to
the standard of the Shelter Institute and you'll do fine.
As long as we're questioning public schooling, we should question
whether there really is an abstraction called "the public" at all,
except in the ominous calculations of social engineers. As a boy from
the banks of the Monongahela River in western Pennsylvania, I find the
term insulting, a cartoon of social reality. If an institution that robs
people of their right to self-determination can call itself "public", if
being "public" means it can turn families into agents of the state,
making parents spy on and harass their sons and daughters because a
schoolteacher tells them to; if the state can steal your home because
you can't pay its "public" school taxes, and state courts can break up
your family if you refuse to allow the state to tell your children what
to think - then the word public is a label for garbage and for people
who allow themselves to be treated like slaves.
A few weeks is all that the Shelter Institute asks for to give you a
beautiful Cape Cod home; a few months is all Maine Maritime asks for to
teach you boat-building and rope-making, lobstering and sail-making,
fishing and naval architecture. We have too much schooling, not too
little. Hong Kong, with its short school year, whips Japan in every
scientific or mathematical competition. Israel, with its long school
year, can't keep up with Flemish Belgium, which has the shortest school
year in the world.
Somebody's been lying to you. Sweden, a rich, healthy, and beautiful
country, with a spectacular reputation for quality in everything, won't
allow children to enter school before they're seven years old. The total
length of Swedish schooling is nine years, not twelve, after which the
average Swede runs circles around the over-schooled American. Why don't
you know these things? To whose advantage is it that you don't?
When students enroll in a Swedish school, the authorities ask three
questions: (l) Why do you want to go to this school? (2) What do you
want to gain from the experience? (3) What are you interested in?
And they listen to the answers. Can you build a house or a boat? Can you
grow food, make clothing, dig a well, sing a song (your own song, that
is), make your own children happy, weave a whole life from the everyday
world around you? No, you say, you can't? Then listen to me&emdash;you
have no business with my kid.
In my own life, with my own children, I'm sorry I lacked the courage to
say what Hester Prynne, the wearer of the scarlet letter, said to the
Puritan elders when they tried to take away her daughter. Alone and
friendless, dirt poor, ringed about by enemies, she said, "Over my dead
body." A few weeks ago a young woman called me from Stroudsburg,
Pennsylvania to tell me the state had just insisted she stop
home-schooling her little girl, Chrissie. The state was going to force
her to send Chrissie to school. She said she was going to fight, first
with the law, although she didn't know where the money would come from,
and then by any means she had. If I had to bet on this young, single
mother or the State of Pennsylvania to win, I'd bet on the lady because
what l was really hearing her say was, "Over my dead body." I wish I'd
been able to say that when the state came to take my own children. I
didn't. But if I'm born again I promise you that's what I will say.
A few days ago I got a call from a newspaper that wanted some advice for
parents about how to launch their children into school. All the reporter
wanted was a sound byte from a former New York State Teacher of the
Year. What I said was this:
Don't cooperate with your children's school unless the school has come
to you in person to work out a meeting of the minds - on your turf, not
theirs. Only a desperado would blindly trust his children to a
collection of untested strangers and hope for the best. Parents and
school personnel are just plain natural adversaries. One group is trying
to make a living; the other is trying to make a work of art called a
family. If you allow yourself to be co-opted by flattery, seduced with
worthless payoffs such as special classes or programs, intimidated by
Alice in Wonderland titles and degrees, you will become the enemy
within, the extension of state schooling into your own home. Shame on
you if you allow that. Your job is to educate, the schoolteacher's is to
school; you work for love, the teacher for money. The interests are
radically different, one an individual thing, the other a collective.
You can make your own son or daughter one of a kind if you have the time
and will to do so; school can only make them part of a hive, a herd, or
an anthill.
III
How did I survive for nearly thirty years in a system for which I feel
such disgust and loathing? I want to make a confession in the hope it
will suggest strategy to other teachers: I did it by becoming an active
saboteur, in small ways and large. What I did resolutely was to teach
kids what I'm saying here - that schooling is bad business unless it
teaches you how to build a boat or a house; that giving strangers
intimate information about yourself is certainly to their advantage, but
seldom to your own.
On a daily basis I consciously practiced sabotage, breaking laws
regularly, forcing the fixed times and spaces of schooling to become
elastic, falsifying records so the rigid curricula of those places could
be what individual children needed. I threw sand in the gears by
encouraging new teachers to think dialectically so that they wouldn't
fit into the pyramid of administration. I exploited the weakness of the
school's punitive mechanism, which depends on fear to be effective, by
challenging it in visible ways, showing I did not fear it, setting
administrators against each other to prevent the juggernaut from
crushing me. When that didn't work I recruited community forces to
challenge the school - businessmen, politicians, parents, and
journalists - so I would be given a wide berth.
Once, under heavy assault, I asked my wife to run for school board. She
got elected, fired the superintendent, and then punished his cronies in
a host of imaginative ways.
But what I am most proud of is this: I undermined the confidence of the
young in the school institution and replaced it with confidence in their
own minds and hearts. I thumbed my nose at William Torrey Harris and
gave to my children (although I was well into manhood before I shook off
the effects of my own schooling) what had been given to me by the green
river Monongahela and the steel city of Pittsburgh: love of family,
friends, culture, and neighborhood, and a cup overflowing with
self-respect. I taught my kids how to cheat destiny so successfully that
they created a record of astonishing success that deserves a book
someday. Some of my kids left school to go up the Amazon and live with
Indian tribes to study on their own the effects of government
dam-building on traditional family life; some went to Nicaragua and
joined combat teams to study the amazing hold of poetry on the lives of
common people in that land; some made award-winning movies; some became
comedians; some succeeded at love, some failed. All learned to argue
with Fate in the form of social engineering.
IV
I hope you saw the news story a while back about a national milk
price-rigging scheme in schools from Florida to Utah. Fifty-six arrests
have already been made in a caper that's existed most of this century.
Schools pay more for milk than any other bulk buyer. Does that surprise
you? Ask your own school administrator what unit price he pays for
school milk and he'll look at you like your marbles are gone. How should
he know, why should he care? An assistant principal once said to me,
"It's not your money. What are you getting excited about?"
What if I told you that he was the second best school administrator I
met in thirty years? He was. That's the standard we've established. The
waste in schools is staggering. People are hired and titles created for
jobs nobody needs. There's waste in services, waste in precious time
spent moving herds of children back and forth through corridors at the
sound of a horn. In my experience, poor schools waste much more than
rich schools, and rich schools waste more than you could believe.
The only public aspect of these places is that they function as a jobs
project, although large numbers of these jobs are set aside as political
patronage. Public schools can't understand how the average private
school can make profit on a per-seat cost less than half the "free"
public charge; they can't understand how the average religious school
makes do on even less. Homeschooling is the biggest puzzle of all. A
principal once said to me, "Those people must be sick to spend so much
time with children and not get paid for it!"
Consider the fantasy of teacher certification. Teachers are licensed and
paid as though they are specialists, but they rarely are. For example, a
science teacher is almost never actually a scientist - a man or woman
who thinks about the secrets of nature as a private passion and pursues
this interest on personal time. How many science classes in this country
actually make any serious attempt to discover anything or to add to
human knowledge? They are orderly ways of killing time, nothing more.
Kids are set to memorizing science vocabulary, repeating well-worn
procedures certain to work, chanting formulas exactly as they have been
indoctrinated to chant commercials from TV. The science teacher is a
publicist for political truths set down in state-approved science textbooks.
Anyone who thinks school science is the inevitable precursor of real
science is very innocent, indeed; of a piece, I think, with those poor,
intelligent souls who, aware that television destroys the power to think
by providing pre-seen sights, pre-thought thoughts, and unwholesome
fantasies, still believe somehow that PBS television must be an
exception to the rule.
If you would like to know how scientists are really made, pick up a
wonderful book called Discovering, published in 1989 by Harvard
University Press. In it you'll learn from a prominent scientist himself
that not one major scientific discovery of this century, including
exotica like superconductivity, came from an academic laboratory; or a
corporate or govemment laboratory, or a school laboratory. You could
have guessed the last, but I surprised you with the others, didn't I?
All came from garages, attics, and basements; all were managed with
cheap, simple equipment and eccentric, personalized procedures of
investigation. School is a perfect place to turn science into a
religion, but it's the wrong place to learn science, for sure.
HARRIS THOUGHT, A HUNDRED YEARS AGO, THAT SELF-ALIENATION WAS THE KEY TO
A SUCCESSFUL SOCIETY. WHO CAN SAY THAT HE WAS WRONG?
The specialists in English, math, social studies, and the rest of the
rainbow of progressive subjects are only marginally more competent, if
at all. If three million teachers were actually the specialists their
licenses claim, they would be a major voice in national life and
policy-making; if we are honest, we must wonder how it is possible for
an army so large to be so silent, of such little consequence, in spite
of the new hokum being retailed about "schoolbased management." Don't
misunderstand me: teachers are frequently good people, intelligent
people, talented people who work very hard. But regardless of how bright
they are, how gracefully they "schoolteach," or how well they control
children's behavior (which is, after all, what they are hired to do; if
they can't do that, they are fired, but if they can, little else really
matters) - the net result of their efforts and our expense is surely
very little or even nothing indeed, often it leaves children worse off
in terms of mental development and character formation than they were
before being "taught." Schools that seem to be successful almost always
are made to appear so by selective enrollment of self-motivated children.
The best way into the strange world of compulsory schooling is through
books. I always knew real books and schoolbooks were different, but I
didn't become conscious of the particulars until I got weary one day of
New York City's brainless English curriculum and decided to teach Moby
Dick to mainstream eighth-grade English classes. I discovered that the
White Whale is too big for the forty-five-minute bell breaks of a junior
high school. I couldn't make it "fit." But the editors of the school
edition of Moby Dick had provided a package of prefabricated questions
and nearly a hundred interpretations of their own. Every chapter began
and ended with a barrage of these interventions. I came to see that the
school edition wasn't a real book at all but a disguised indoctrination.
The book had been rendered teacher-proof and student-proof.
VI
This jigsaw fragmentation, designed to make the job site safe from its
employees, is usually credited to Frederick Taylor's work of sinister
genius, Scientific Management, written at the turn of this century. But
that is wrong. The system was really devised before the American
Revolution, in eighteenth-century Prussia, by Frederick the Great, and
honed to perfection in early nineteenth-century Prussia after its
humiliating defeat by Napoleon in 1806. A new system of schooling was
the instrument out of which Prussian vengeance was shaped, a system that
reduced human beings during their malleable years to reliable machine
parts, human machinery dependent upon the state for its mission and
purpose. When Blucher's Death's Head Hussars destroyed Napoleon at
Waterloo, the value of Prussian schooling was confined.
By 1819, Prussian philosophy had given the world its first laboratory of
compulsory schooling. That same year Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein,
the story of a German intellectual who fabricated a monster out of the
parts of dead bodies: compulsory schooling was the monster she had in
mind, emblemized in the lurching destruction caused by a homeless,
synthetic creature seeking its maker, a creature with the infinite inner
pain that ambiguous family brings.
In the nineteenth century, ties between Prussia and the United States
were exceedingly close, a fact unknown these days because it became
embarrassing to us during the World Wars and so was removed from history
books. American scholarship during the nineteenth century was almost
exclusively German at its highest levels, another fact conveniently
absent from popular history. From 1814 to 1900, more than fifty thousand
young men from prominent American families made the pilgrimage to
Prussia and other parts of Germany to study under its new system of
higher education based on research instead of "teaching." Ten thousand
brought back Ph.D.'s to a then-uncredentialed United States, preempting
most of the available intellectual and technical work.
Prussian education was the national obsession among American political
leaders, industrialists, clergy, and university people. In 1845, the
Prussian emperor was even asked to adjudicate the boundary between
Canada and the United States! Virtually every founding father of
American compulsory schooling went to Prussia to study its clockwork
schoolrooms flrsthand. Horace Mann's Seventh Report To The Boston School
Committee of 1844 was substantially devoted to glowing praise of
Prussian accomplishments and how they should become our own. Victor
Cousin's book on Prussian schooling was the talk of our country about
the same time. When, only a quarter-century later, Prussia crushed
France in a brief war and performed the miracle of unifying Germany, it
seemed clear that the way to unify our immigrant classes - which we so
desperately sought to do - was through Prussian schooling.
By 1905, Prussian trained Americans, or Americans like John Dewey who
apprenticed at Prussian-trained hands, were in command of every one of
our new institutions of scientific teacher training: Columbia Teacher's
College, the University of Chicago, Johns Hopkins, the University of
Wisconsin, Stanford. The domination of Prussian vision, and the general
domination of German philosophy and pedagogy, was a fait accompli among
the leadership of American schooling.
You should care about this for the compelling reason that German
practices were used here to justify removal of intellectual material
from the curriculum; it may explain why your own children cannot think.
That was the Prussian way - to train only a leadership cadre to think.
Of all the men whose vision excited the architects of the new
Prussianized American school machine, the most exciting were a German
philosopher named Hegel and a German doctor named Wilhelm Wundt. In
Wundt's laboratory the techniques of psychophysics (what today we might
call "experimental psychology") were refined. Thanks to his work, it
took only a little imagination to see an awesome new world emerging -
for Wundt had demonstrated convincingly to his American students that
people were only complex machines!
Man a machine? The implications were exhilarating, promising liberation
from the ancient shackles of tradition, culture, morality, and religion.
Adjustment became the watchword of schools and social welfare offices.
G. Stanley Hall, one of Wundt's personal protégés (who as a professor at
Johns Hopkins had inoculated his star pupil, John Dewey, with the German
virus), now joined with Thorndike, his German-trained colleague at
Columbia Teacher's College, to beat the drum for national standardized
testing. Hall shrewdly sponsored and promoted an American tour for the
Austrian doctor Sigmund Freud so that Freud might popularize his theory
that parents and family were the cause of virtually all maladjustment -
all the more reason to remove their little machines to the safety of
schools.
In the minds of disciples of German educational thought, scientific
education was primarily a way of forcing people to fit. With such a
"technical" goal in mind, the future course of American schooling was
determined, and with massive financial support from the foundations -
especially those of the Rockefeller and Carnegie families - new
scientific colleges to share teachers were established. In Prussia these
were aptly called "teacher seminaries," but here secular religionists
were more discreet: a priesthood of trained professionals would guard
the new school-church and write its canonical text into state law. Thus
the Torah of twentieth century compulsory schooling was in its Ark by
1895, one third of the way through the reign of William Torrey Harris as
U.S. Commissioner of Education.
Teacher training in Prussia was founded on three premises, which the
United States subsequently borrowed. The first of these is that the
state is sovereign, the only true parent of children. Its corollary is
that biological parents are the enemies of their offspring. When
Germany's Froebel invented Kindergarten, it was not a garden for
children he had in mind but a garden of children, in which
state-appointed teachers were the gardeners of the children.
Kindergarten is meant to protect children from their own mothers.
The second premise of Prussian schooling is that intellectual training
is not the purpose of state schooling - obedience and subordination are.
In fact, intellectual training will invariably subvert obedience unless
it is rigidly controlled and doled out as a reward for obedience. If the
will could be broken all else would follow. Keep in mind that
will-breaking was the central logic of child-rearing among our own
Puritan colonists, and you will see the natural affinity that exists
between Prussian seeds and Puritan soil - from which agriculture our
compulsory schooling law springs. The best-known device to break the
will of the young, practiced for centuries among English and German
upper classes, was the separation of parent and child at an early age.
Here now was an institution backed by the police power of the state to
guarantee that separation. But it was not enough to compel obedience by
intimidation. The child must be brought to love its synthetic parent.
When George Orwell's protagonist in 1984 realizes that he loves Big
Brother after betraying his lover to the state, we have a dramatic
embodiment of the sexual destination of Prussian-type schooling; it
creates a willingness to sell out your own family, friends, culture, and
religion for your new lover, the state. Twelve years of arbitrary
punishment and reward in the confinement of a classroom is ample time to
condition any child to believe that he who wields red pen-power is the
true parent, and they who control the buzzers must be gods.
The third premise of Prussian training is that the schoolroom and the
workplace shall be dumbed down into simplified fragments that anyone,
however dumb, can memorize and operate. This solves the historical
dilemma of leadership: a disobedient work force could be replaced
quickly, without damage to production, if the workers required only
habit, not mind, to function properly. This strategy paid off recently
during the national strike of air traffic controllers, when the entire
force of these supposed "experts" was replaced overnight by management
personnel and hastily trained fill-ins. There was no increase in
accidents across the system! If anyone can do any particular job there's
no reason to pay them very much except to guarantee employee loyalty and
dependency - a form of love which bad parents often extort from their
young in the same way.
In the training ground of the classroom, everything is reduced to bits
under close management control. This allows progress to be quantified
into precise rankings to track students throughout their careers - the
great irony being that it's not intellectual growth that grades and
reports really measure, but obedience to authority. That's why regular
disclosures about the lack of correlation between standardized test
scores and performance do not end the use of these surveillance
mechanisms. What they actually measure is the tractability of the
student, and this they do quite accurately. Is it of value to know who
is docile and who may not be? You tell me.
Finally, if workers or students have little or no idea how their own
part fits into the whole, if they are unable to make decisions, grow
food, build a home or boat, or even entertain themselves, then political
and economic stability will reign because only a carefully screened and
seasoned leadership will know how things work. Uninitiated citizens will
not even know what questions should be asked, let alone where the
answers might be found.
This is sophisticated pedagogy indeed, if far from what mother and
father expect when they send Junior to school. This is what the
religious Right is talking about when it claims that schooling is a
secular religion. If you can think independently of pre-thought thoughts
and received wisdom, you must certainly arrive at the same conclusion,
whatever your private theology. Schooling is our official state
religion; in no way is it a neutral vehicle for learning.
The sheer craziness of what we do to our children should have been
sufficient cause to stop it once the lunacy was manifest in increased
social pathology, but a crucial development forestalled corrective
action: schooling became the biggest business of all. Suddenly there
were jobs, titles, careers, prestige, and contracts to protect. As a
country we've never had the luxury of a political or a religious or a
cultural consensus. As a synthetic state, we've had only economic
consensus: unity is achieved by making everyone want to get rich, or
making them envy those who are.
Once a splendid economic machine like schooling was rolling, only a
madman would try to stop it or to climb off its golden ascent. True, its
jobs didn't seem to pay much (although its contractors did and do make
fortunes), but upon closer inspection they paid more than most. And the
security for the obedient was matchless because the institution provided
the best insurance that a disturbing social mobility (characteristic of
a frontier society) could finally be checked. Horace Mann, Henry
Barnard, William Harris, Edward Thorndike, William James, John Dewey,
Stanley Hall, Charles Judd, Ellwood Cubberly, James Russell - all the
great schoolmen of American history - made endless promises to
industrialists and old-line American families of prominence that if the
new Prussian scheme were given support, prospects of a revolution here
would vanish. (What a great irony that in a revolutionary nation the
most effective motivator of leadership was the guarantee that another
one could be prevented!)
Schools would be the insurance policy for a new industrial order which,
as an unfortunate by-product of its operations, would destroy the
American family, the small farmer, the landscape, the air, the water,
the religious base of community life, the time-honored covenant that
Americans could rise and fall by their own efforts. This industrial
order would destroy democracy itself, and the promise held out to common
men and women that if they were ever backed into a corner by their
leaders, they might change things overnight at the ballot box.
I hope you can see now that this Prussian theory of workplaces and
schools isn't just some historical oddity, but is necessary to explain
customary textbook structure and classroom procedures, which fly in the
face of how people actually learn. It explains the inordinate interest
the foundations of Rockefeller and Camegie took in shaping early
compulsory schooling around a standardized factory model, and it sheds
light on many mysterious aspects of modem American culture: for
instance, why, in a democracy, can't citizens be automatically
registered at birth to vote, once and for all?
Compulsory schooling has been, from the beginning, a scheme of
indoctrination into the new concept of mass man, an important part of
which was the creation of a proletariat. According to Auguste Comte
(surely the godfather of scientific schooling), you could create a
useful proletariat class by breaking connections between children and
their families, their communities, their God, and themselves. Remember
William Harris's belief that self-alienation was the key to successful
schooling! Of course it is. These connections have to be broken to
create a dependable citizenry because, if left alive, the loyalties they
foster are unpredictable and unmanageable. People who maintain such
relationships often say, "Over my dead body." How can states operate
that way?
Think of govemment schooling as a vast behavior clinic designed to
create a harmless proletariat, the most important part of which is a
professional proletariat of lawyers, doctors, engineers, managers,
government people, and schoolteachers. This professional proletariat,
more homeless than the poor and the sub-poor, is held hostage by its
addiction to luxury and security, and by its fear that the licensing
monopoly might be changed by any change in governance. The main service
it renders - advice - is contaminated by self interest. We are all dying
from it, the professional proletariat faster than anyone. It is their
children who commit literal suicide with such regularity, not the
children of the poor. ...
VII
Printing questions at the end of chapters is a deliberate way of dumbing
down a text to make it teacher-proof. We've done it so long that nobody
examines the premises under the practice or sees the permanent reduction
in mental sovereignty it causes. Just as science teachers were never
supposed to be actual scientists, literature teachers weren't supposed
to be original thinkers who brought original questions to the text.
In 1926, Bertrand Russell said casually that the United States was the
first nation in human history to deliberately deny its children the
tools of critical thinking; actually Prussia was first, we were second.
The school edition of Moby Dick asked all the right questions, so I had
to throw it away. Real books don't do that. They let readers actively
participate with their own questions. Books that show you the best
questions to ask aren't just stupid, they hurt the intellect under the
guise of helping it, just as standardized tests do.
Well-schooled people, like schoolbooks, are very much alike.
Propagandists have known for a century that school-educated people are
easier to lead than ignorant people - as Dietrich Bonhoeffer confirmed
in his studies of Nazism.
It's very useful for some people that our form of schooling tells
children what to think about, how to think about it, and when to think
about it. It's very useful to some groups that children are trained to
be dependent on experts, to react to titles instead of judging the real
men and women who hide behind the titles. It isn't very healthy for
families and neighborhoods, cultures and religions. But then school was
never about those things any-way: that's why we don't have them around
anymore. You can thank govemment schooling for that.
VIII
I think it would be fair to say that the overwhelming majority of people
who make schools work today are unaware why they fail to give us
successful human beings, no matter how much money is spent or how much
good will is expended on reform efforts. This explains the inevitable
temptation to find villains and to cast blame - on bad teaching, bad
parents, bad children, or penurious taxpayers.
The thought that school may be a brilliantly conceived social engine
that works exactly as it was designed to work and produces exactly the
human products it was designed to produce establishes a different
relation to the usual demonologies. Seeing school as a triumph of human
ingenuity, as a glorious success, forces us to consider whether we want
this kind of success, and if not, to envision something of value in its
place. And it forces us to challenge whether there is a "we," a national
consensus sufficient to justify looking for one right way rather than
dozens or even hundreds of right ways. I don't think there is.
IX
Museums and institutes of useful knowledge travel a different road than
schools. Consider the difference between librarians and schoolteachers.
Librarians are custodians of real books and real readers; schoolteachers
are custodians of schoolbooks and indentured readers. Somewhere in the
difference is the Rosetta Stone that reveals how education is one thing,
schooling another.
Begin with the setting and social arrangement of a library. The ones
I've visited all over the country invariably are comfortable and quiet,
places where you can read rather than just pretend to read. How
important this silence is. Schools are never silent. People of all ages
work side by side in libraries, not just a pack of age-segregated kids.
For some reason, libraries do not segregate by age nor do they presume
to segregate readers by questionable tests of reading ability. Just as
the people who decoded the secrets of farming or of the forests and
oceans were not segregated by age or test scores, the library seems to
have intuited that common human judgment is adequate to most learning
decisions.
The librarian doesn't tell me what to read, doesn't tell me the sequence
of reading I have to follow, doesn't grade my reading. Librarians act as
if they trust their customers. The librarian lets me ask my own
questions and helps me when I need help, not when the library decides I
need it. If I feel like reading in the same place all day long, that
seems to be OK with the library. It doesn't tell me to stop reading at
regular intervals by ringing a bell in my ear. The library keeps its
nose out of my home, too. It doesn't send letters to my mother reporting
on my library behavior; it doesn't make recommendations or issue orders
on how I should use my time spent outside of the library.
The library doesn't have a tracking system. Everyone is mixed together
there, and no private files exist detailing my past victories and
defeats as a patron. If the books I want are available, I get them by
requesting them - even if that deprives some more gifted reader, who
comes a minute later. The library doesn't presume to determine which of
us is more qualified to read that book; it doesn't play favorites. It is
a very class-blind, talent-blind place, appropriately reflecting our
historic political ideals in a way that puts schools to shame.
The public library isn't into public humiliation the way schools seem to
be. It never posts ranked lists of good and bad readers for all to see.
Presumably it considers good reading its own reward, not requiring
additional accolades, and it has resisted the temptation to hold up good
reading as a moral goad to bad readers. One of the strangest differences
between libraries and schools, in New York City at least, is that you
almost never see a kid behaving badly in a library or waving a gun there
- even though bad kids have exactly the same access to libraries as good
kids do. Bad kids seem to respect libraries, a curious phenomenon which
may well be an unconscious response to the automatic respect libraries
bestow blindly on everyone. Even people who don't like to read like
libraries from time to time; in fact, they are such generally wonderful
places I wonder why we haven't made them compulsory - and all alike, of
course, too.
Here's another angle to consider: the library never makes predictions
about my general future based on my past reading habits, nor does it
hint that my days will be happier if I read Shakespeare rather than
Barbara Cartland. The library tolerates eccentric reading habits because
it realizes that free men and women are often very eccentric.
And finally, the library has real books, not schoolbooks. Its volumes
are not written by collective pens or picked by politically correct
screening committees. Real books conform only to the private curriculum
of each writer, not to the invisible curriculum of some German
collective agenda. The one exception to this is children's books - but
no sensible child ever reads those things, so the damage from them is
minimal.
Real books are deeply subversive of collectivization. They are the best
known way to escape herd behavior, because they are vehicles
transporting their reader into deep caverns of absolute solitude where
nobody else can visit: No two people ever read the same great book. Real
books disgust the totalitarian mind because they generate uncontrollable
mental growth - and it cannot be monitored!
Television has entered the classroom because it is a collective
mechanism and, as such, much superior to textbooks; similarly, slides,
audio tapes, group games, and so on meet the need to collectivize, which
is a central purpose of mass schooling. This is the famous
"socialization" that schools do so well. Schoolbooks, on the other hand,
are paper tools that reinforce school routines of close-order drill,
public mythology, endless surveillance, global ranking, and constant
intimidation.
That's what the questions at the end of chapters are designed to do, to
bring you back to a reality in which you are subordinate. Nobody really
expects you to answer those questions, not even the teacher; they work
their harm solely by being there. That is their genius. Schoolbooks are
a crowd-control device. Only the very innocent and well-schooled see any
difference between good ones and bad ones; both kinds do the same work.
In that respect they are much like television programming, the function
of which, as a plug in narcotic, is infinitely more powerful than any
trivial differences between good programs and bad.
Real books educate, schoolbooks school, and thus libraries and library
policies are a major clue to the reform of American schooling. When you
take the free will and solitude out of education it becomes schooling.
You can't have it both ways.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[This is the text of a speech Gatto delivered several years ago at the
University of Texas in Austin.]
Twenty-six years of award-winning teaching have led John Gatto to some
troubling conclusions about the public schools.
A seventh-grade teacher, Gatto has been named New York City Teacher of
the Year and New York State Teacher of the Year. Praised by leaders as
diverse as Ronald Reagan and Mario Cuomo, he's a political maverick
whose views defy easy categorization.
Gatto is also a local legend on Manhattan's Upper West Side, where he
grows garlic, plays chess, writes songs - and once won a Citizen of the
Week Award for coming to the aid of a woman who had been robbed. A
collection of his essays - Dumbing Us Down: The Hidden Curriculum Of
Compulsory Schooling - was published earlier this year by New Society
Publishers.
Gatto has appeared twice before in The Sun: "Why Schools Don't Educate"
[Issue 175] and "A Few Lessons They Won't Forget" [Issue 186]. Nothing
else we've printed has generated as many reprint requests.
Reprinted from The Sun
Written by: John Taylor Gatto <http://www.johntaylorgatto.com/>
26 August 2005
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://www.tuxtown.net/pipermail/d66/attachments/20200816/4fa6e3c2/attachment-0001.html>
More information about the D66
mailing list