The aim of schools in democracy--editorial by Shawn Olsonchalkboard, column, editorial, education, democracy, thomas jeffersonA Chalkboard column on the foundation of democratic education by Columbus Messenger writer Shawn Olson.
Public education was established by men of strong convictions. It was Jefferson, among others, who insisted upon forming public schools for the very existence of a democratic nation. Without smart people, democracy would be no salvation from monarchy or any other form of government. A nation of people making poor decisions because of poor judgment could be worse than nation ruled by one wise person. Bertrand Russell wrote that “a society in which each is the slave of all is only a little better than one in which each is the slave of a despot.”
We have traditionally felt proud of our schools. We have claimed loudly that they are the safeguards of democracy and freedom. That’s what schools are for. But we accept that while ignoring the fact that other cultures, other nations and political organizations that we consider oppressive, have schools. Russia had schools while under Communism, and China still does. The point is this: There is nothing inherently democratic about schooling.
The question to pose concerning our schools is whether they currently fulfill the purpose intended by Jefferson. For the “preservation of freedom and happiness” Jefferson called for “general education” which would “enable every man to judge for himself what will secure or endanger his freedom….” The study of history would make people “judges of the actions and designs of men.” Judging figures prominently in Jefferson’s plan of education. On this account, we must ask this: Are our schools making judges?
There is little doubt that today’s schools are highly efficient in spreading knowledge through the population. Despite the claims that schools are not imparting much knowledge, we must acknowledged that people are much more knowledgeable now than in the past. Much of today’s common knowledge was beyond the genius of past ages. Reading and writing, the keys to communication of knowledge, are accessible skills to practically everyone in America (though high proficiency is still probably lacking). Most Americans know the significance of 1776, and few have no knowledge of Auschwitz, Hiroshima and Gettysburg. People can generally do simple arithmetic. These all result from the obligatory education we have chosen to provide for ourselves, along with the free libraries and ever expanding media.
But having knowledge is only a prerequisite for being a judge. One can be full of facts and still be low on wisdom. We can be assured that there are plenty of people who are intelligent but unhappy and oppressed; that there are smart people who make consistently poor decisions in their lives; that despite the many facts inside the heads of many, poor thinking processes leave people unqualified at making good judgments. One Edward Teller was the genius physicist behind the development of the hydrogen bomb—he had facts about nuclear physics beyond most of humanity: was his obsession the result of good judgment? Even here, the example of Edward Teller forces us to realize the complexity of making judgments. If it is found, through the unfolding of history, that Teller’s work leads to the destruction of world societies and countless lives, it will be obvious that Teller’s work was unwise. If it comes to pass that nuclear war does not in fact ravage humanity, then Teller’s work will remain morally ambiguous. If, however, thermonuclear arsenal becomes essential to the survival of humanity (because of some extraterrestrial threat), then Teller would be vindicated. The problem is that life is so complex and contingent that it is impossible to make completely accurate prophecies. Judgment requires more than facts.
There are different tools for the judge. Among these is the tool of factual knowledge. Another, the one most commonly sought in the world of business and politics, is experience. Firsthand experience gives a person a feel for the processes and possibilities of various situations. Experiences build knowledge about circumstances that are more poignant than knowledge gained through a secondhand source. Reading about war is definitely informative, but not nearly as informative as the war experience itself. (This example, however, is in no way implying that war experience is good or desirable.) There is a lot of value to the aid of a veteran in any field—many times it is wiser to have an experienced person performing a given role than a know-it-all fresh out of college.
Exactly what constitutes a meaningful experience is something that can be debated. I take the position that any experience can be meaningful and educative provided there is a proper context. Conversely, many experiences are poorly educational in a positive sense because they fail to fit into a context that makes them meaningful. Being forced to read The Tao of Jeet Kune Do for an English report and reading it to enhance one’s understanding of martial arts are two similar experiences. Both have the same experience of reading the book, but it is highly likely that the two will have marked inequalities in the value of learning. It is much more likely that the experience of the latter will be better than the one by the individual being forced to read.
In this light, is it not reasonable to ask whether or not schools provide experiences that are meaningful and educative in a positive sense? We would be well to know that situations are provided for students to gain experiences relevant to becoming good judges. It is definitely an advantage to teach students how to judge their circumstances so that they can protect and promote freedom and happiness; any system of education that ignores or belittles this point is not conducive of the American spirit so eloquently captured in the writings of Jefferson. In fact, without the focus on judgment, education can be an enemy to democracy and freedom: people are led to accept facts and circumstances uncritically. I say that it’s a shame that everyone is so worried about proficiency scores, yet nobody bothers to judge the system and see that maybe there are some more important issues at hand. But perhaps that’s the problem: schools have not focussed much on judgment, not now nor for a very long time. Everyone has been brought up in a system that does not habitually sharpen judgment skills, and everyone, from parents to administrators and teachers, fails to see that the piece is missing from the puzzle.