Notes from Underground

School Is Not Life

May 23, 2017 by David Spiech

I’m pretty cynical about politics because most political discussion is ignorant babbling. In a typical political discussion, everyone involved knows almost no facts about the subject at hand and they actually have zero influence on the broader society. Yet, they act really serious about everything as if the fate of the world depends on them clinging to the eternal truth captured in some ridiculous video or the punchline from a TV comedian. So, there are very few so-called “political” issues that I care about — but education is one of them. I grew up believing that education was important, but schools are not.

Schools seemed irrelevant to me because I attended a different school every one or two years from the age of 5 until I graduated at 18. It is difficult for me to imagine this thing that Americans call a “public school system,” because in my experience, it was not a single system at all. For example, some schools let above-average students just get A grades in everything; some schools let them take honors or advanced courses; some schools made them sit out in the hallway so they didn’t bother the normal kids; and some schools disciplined them (as in “inflicted corporal punishment”) for working ahead. Even schools in the same district that taught the same grade levels had completely different classes, rules, student demographics, and learning environments.

Lacking continuity in my schooling, I wasn’t trapped in the illusion that some people have about public education as a kind of communal effort to implant a common body of knowledge into children and prepare them for the special little slots waiting for them in the community of adults. I saw education more as a personal adventure in accumulating as many different skills as possible so that I could be successful on my own terms. As a result, I developed the outlook of a self-taught person, and totally ignored the social significance of schooling.

The point of public school in the US has always been to “educate” in the broader cultural sense, not in the narrow sense of learning a subject (or range of subjects) or learning how to do a particular job. From its earliest forms in the US up through its institutionalization and desegregation, it was always explicitly promoted as a method of integrating into “productive” society all the religious outsiders, immigrants, lower classes, Indians, Blacks — everyone who was not a middle-class, white, Anglo-Saxon Protestant.

This is still an explicit objective of public school, except that now it also has a normative function for the middle class — in other words, it has become the de facto normal condition of the middle class to have had a public school experience. That is why the defenders of public schools nowadays go further and claim that without having had a public school experience, a child literally has no place in adult middle-class society and is incapable of functioning normally. This is the single most common public objection to homeschooling, even more than fears of child abuse, child neglect, or educational neglect. They are afraid of the possibility of a “parallel society” — suggesting that there should be only one monolithic society fed by one monolithic school system, neither of which can co-exist with diverse forms.

Ironically, as primary and secondary schools became public enterprises in the US and became more open to all students, they lost their original diversity of mission — to prepare students for integration into particular communities — and developed instead a uniform rationale of idealized, large-scale universality that is disconnected from organic communities, and more closely related to prisons and factories.

The traditional European and American models of education were nearly always directed toward the creation of a particular mindset that would fit in within a particular culture. Prior to the 19th century, however, this usually meant a subculture within the broader society, partly because schools were exclusive by design, not just because of geography. Even after US schools became nearly “universal” in the scope of their students, the notion that each needed to impart a specific cultural outlook and set of habits has remained. It isn’t so obvious in primary and secondary schools, unless they are charter schools or magnet schools. However, in post-secondary education, the cultural differences between different universities, campuses, schools, and departments have always been very clearly defined — mostly out of self-defense, as they competed against each other for funding, and even more as they have struggled against online schooling and free self-education opportunities.

Education has two different basic styles, an inner and an outer style. One style sees sociality as an exercise in formation, whereas the other sees sociality as an exercise in expansion. The first is narrow insofar as its purpose is to create a person with a certain worldview; the second is broad insofar as its purpose is to unburden a person of their existing worldview through cosmopolitan interactions that ideally leave them with no particular worldview at all.

Contrary to stereotype, social formation does not necessarily result in narrowness, and social expansion does not necessarily result in openness. A person with a carefully formed worldview could be inquisitive and open to changing unfounded prejudices. A person with no worldview at all could be hollowed-out enough to assimilate any pre-programmed ideology. The challenge for schools, at least for those that are not preparing children to live in a totalitarian prison state or a religious cult, is how to balance convergent and divergent educational objectives in order to help people develop themselves.

My early life was characterized by a divergent education that conditioned me to see schools and their communities as disconnected little way-stations on a wandering path. That point of view didn’t really change after I went to college. But by the time I was older, I started to notice the cultural differences in each higher education experience, the way each group of teachers had a different ideal end that they seemed to be trying to draw me towards.

After a couple of decades of college classes I started to see that an ideal end, the formation of a certain kind of person, was actually the only purpose of every formal educational framework, also known as a “school.” Their purpose was not to convey knowledge as such, obviously, since they were very inefficient at conveying knowledge, and anyway the details changed continually. Apart from those few who truly needed a structured format in order to learn a particular subject, most students acquired knowledge despite their schooling, not because of it.

Most importantly, everyone who is not in school full-time already knows this, and that is why most people don’t want to “go to school” ever again after they become adults. In real life, they are either told what to think or they discover something for themselves; knowledge is just a commodity, not the result of a process, for most people.

The result of an educational process is a set of habits of thought, and the habits acquired through socialization lead to identification with a characteristic ideal — what we like to call character. If those habits can be supported in real life, then we may be able to live according to our ideals outside of school — but only if the ideals modeled in school represent real life.

What Does It Mean to Be Educated?

Homeschooling as a right, and a needed practical alternative

Hacker News comments on “Homeschooling as a right”

Why Nerds Are Unpopular

SSC Gives a Graduation Speech

The true purpose of a university education

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: college, education, homeschooling, socialization

A Tragedy of Manners

January 22, 2017 by David Spiech

On January 21, 2017, I knew that the election season was finally over. I breathed the fresh, clear air of a newly anointed presidential administration, knowing that at last the earth had stabilized on its axis and God was now free to do His will (God’s, that is!) throughout all of creation, unimpeded by malevolent forces in the executive branch of the US federal government.

In the past God was able to use murderous, unbelieving kings to implement His will; but in a modern democracy God has to wait for vote-counters to tell him whether His favorite two-faced paper-pusher will be in charge, or whether He will have to withdraw from the world for four years and hope for the best.

I can only dream of having so much faith in the importance of a US president to believe that he plays a significant role on a celestial level and that I participated in the vast cosmic drama by bravely pushing a button in a voting booth. Even if I believed in the great march of history, I could not believe that it relies on me personally propelling it forward.

I grew up believing that Republicans were wealthy religious bigots and Democrats were communist radicals who started all the wars in the 20th century. Sure, I had also heard the positive case for each, but basically I thought that both sounded ridiculous; and lacking a desire to identify with any particular group, I ended up gravitating to individualists. The earliest inspirational essay I can remember reading was Ralph Waldo Emerson’s “Self-Reliance,” probably in the ninth grade.

If you maintain a dead church, contribute to a dead Bible-society, vote with a great party either for the government or against it, spread your table like base housekeepers, — under all these screens I have difficulty to detect the precise man you are. And, of course, so much force is withdrawn from your proper life. But do your work, and I shall know you. Do your work, and you shall reinforce yourself. A man must consider what a blindman’s-bluff is this game of conformity. If I know your sect, I anticipate your argument. I hear a preacher announce for his text and topic the expediency of one of the institutions of his church. Do I not know beforehand that not possibly can he say a new and spontaneous word? Do I not know that, with all this ostentation of examining the grounds of the institution, he will do no such thing? Do I not know that he is pledged to himself not to look but at one side, — the permitted side, not as a man, but as a parish minister? He is a retained attorney, and these airs of the bench are the emptiest affectation. Well, most men have bound their eyes with one or another handkerchief, and attached themselves to some one of these communities of opinion. This conformity makes them not false in a few particulars, authors of a few lies, but false in all particulars. Their every truth is not quite true. Their two is not the real two, their four not the real four; so that every word they say chagrins us, and we know not where to begin to set them right. Meantime nature is not slow to equip us in the prison-uniform of the party to which we adhere. We come to wear one cut of face and figure, and acquire by degrees the gentlest asinine expression.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Self-Reliance”

That pretty well sums up how I see everyone who subscribes to a particular party that they always vote for. Every time the wind blows, their opinions shift to accommodate their party affiliation. They don’t actually own any of the words they say or write — everything is either dictated to them by the appropriate thought-leader, or else it is just the dumb parroting of whatever their favorite crowd is murmuring right now.

Every time I find myself agreeing with the people I like, it makes me nervous, because it means that my mind has hitched itself to my instincts and is ready to run off on its own, without the restraint of reason. Even worse, though, is the anxiety I feel when everyone I speak with agrees with me — that is a sure sign that I am likely to be deceived into believing everything I say. It is disappointing to let opinion fall victim to sentiment; but if a whole chorus is echoing my thoughts, it signifies that I am about to suffer a tragic end.

It doesn’t matter how many times I say I don’t care about political parties, because no one ever believes me. I seem so reasonable and articulate that they have to project their idolatry onto me:  They are absolutely certain that if only I read this one article or watch this one video, I will immediately start chirping away and validate all their prejudices for them. Sometimes it’s easy enough to just reassure them that I support their good intentions, and not bother them with my own opinion.

Nevertheless, I have learned over the years how to identify my own perspective — not to submerge it under some bureaucratic policy statement or some empty slogan, but to anchor it to principles. For example, my parents taught me to place supreme importance on education and reading books, but that did not cause me to make public education into a political fetish — it caused me to make learning into a personal fetish. Because I wanted to learn so much, I adored my teachers and I despised all the rowdy, ungrateful, dimwitted children I was imprisoned with in public school buildings. When I read that the brilliant John Stuart Mill had been tutored personally by his own father, I was deeply envious, and I imagined my father teaching me from his science textbooks.

This led me to be sympathetic toward homeschooling, even though my father was at heart a public school teacher. My principles did not include wanting to use legislation, courts, and police to force everyone else to behave exactly the way I wanted them to — that would be an unprincipled political objective, as far as I’m concerned. It is unprincipled not because there may be  justification for it only in an authoritarian fantasy world; it is unprincipled because politics translates personal prejudices into  policy, and I don’t have a principle of trying to force everyone to be puppets.

However, that kind of principled libertarianism assumes that somehow most of the people in a representative democracy have similar principles, so that such principles will win out in the political realm. I floated along with that illusion for most of my life, and most people would probably say it took me way too long to learn that it was an illusion. It’s obvious that politics has more to do with an intrinsic sense of personal identity and tribalism rather than any ideology or policy, but in the past I would have said that was something trivial, something to be overcome.

No doubt, though, the desire to overcome or avoid group identification is a sign of a psychological disorder. It could be a sort of narcissism, if everyone else’s welfare depended on my good will — but I have never wanted to believe that vanity supersedes duty. It could also be a sort of sociopathy, if I considered everyone else to be a means for me to achieve my ends — but I have tried being a salesman and found that I am so concerned with helping people solve problems that I cannot profit by manipulating them. Another popular sociopathy is business management — but I have seen the sociopathy of executives up close, and it made me physically ill.

It’s more likely that either I have a congenital brain disorder or that I was conditioned by the anarchic lifestyle imposed on families by a military bureaucracy. I don’t quite fit the pattern for either one, but I have found that I identify with people who do fit those patterns far better than I identify with neurotypicals or civilians.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: education, elections, parties, Trump

David Spiech

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