Our
schools are not turning out young people prepared
for the high office and the duties of citizenship
in a democratic republic. Our political
institutions cannot thrive, they may not even
survive, if we do not produce a greater number of
thinking citizens, from whom some statesmen of the
type we had in the eighteenth century might
eventually emerge. We are, indeed, a nation at
risk, and nothing but radical re-form of our
schools can save us from impending disaster.
Whatever the price we must pay in money and effort
to do this, the price we will pay for not doing it
will be much greater. -- Mortimer J.
Adler
The
Crisis in Contemporary Education
By Mortimer J. Adler, Ph.D.
Part One
Crisis is a turning point. In pneumonia, it is
the point at which the patient gets either better
or worse. But the present crisis in education is
different. Things can't get worse. They can only
get better. We have reached an extreme in the swing
of the pendulum. Progressive education in all its
forms was a sound and genuine reaction against the
extreme aridity and empty formalism of classical
education, which had reached the limit of its own
degradation at the end of the last century.
Unhappily, as always, the reaction went too far.
The opposite extreme has given us an educational
program which is equally preposterous, though for
different reasons. Professor Dewey himself has of
late scored the excesses of some of his would-be
followers. What is obviously indicated, to avoid a
false issue which offers a choice between
undesirable extremes, is a moderate position, one
which would agree with progressivism in correcting
the abuses of the classical program but which would
rectify progressivism itself by retaining whatever
was essentially right in the classical approach. If
one sets out to remedy abuses, one should remember
that one is doing so because something good has
been spoiled. The trouble with most reforms is that
they start out to remove flaws and end by throwing
the good away with the bad. We must eliminate the
present excesses of progressive education without
discarding the basic insights which motivated the
movement.
There is no name readily available for
designating the middle position.
Traditionalism indicates that tradition, as
well as progress and novelty, is a factor in
education, but the name itself fails to mention the
latter factors. Essentialism -- apart from
its being a barbaric name -- has been used for a
doctrine that does not seem to me an adequate
formulation of the moderate policy. For want of a
name, therefore, I shall refer to the solution of
our difficulties as the Hutchins program. As I
understand it, this combines what was vital in
classicism -- formal discipline and tradition --
with what is sound in progressivism -- the emphasis
upon the present rather than upon the past and the
insistence upon activity as indispensable to the
learning process. Tradition and invention are the
two factors which constitute every living culture:
without invention, a culture dies; without
tradition, a culture cannot begin to live. So we
must have these two factors, in the right
proportion and order, in education if the
educational process is to preserve and enhance
culture. In these terms I shall defend the reforms
proposed by President Hutchins. I say "defend"
because they have been so widely, so violently, so
blindly attacked.
Much of the attack has been name-calling and
does not deserve serious attention. If the real
issues were properly understood, there would be an
end to all this nonsense about fascism and
authoritarianism, for it would be clear that to ask
for discipline in education is not to advocate
Prussian drill and the goose step; to ask for the
abolition of the elective system is not to desire
totalitarian regimentation; to emphasize the rule
of reason in human life is not to abridge our
liberties. It is only license we retain without the
discipline of reason. The Hutchins program
cherishes all the goodswhich seem to
motivate its opponents: it is forward-looking,
valuing the cultural heritage the past transmits
only for the sake of intelligent, i.e.,
prospective, living in the present; it is truly
liberal, if the essence of liberalism is respect
for persons made free and independent by the
discipline of their rational powers; it is
fundamentally democratic, for it abides by the
principle of universal, popular education, though
it distinguishes liberal and vocational training
and realizes that even democracies need
leaders.
I shall try, therefore, to locate the crucial
issues and to discuss them briefly, in the hope
that objections arising from misconceptions will be
answered and that the real basis for demanding the
re-form of contemporary education will be
understood. I may even hope that with such
clarification, name-calling may cease, though I
dare not hope that rational argument will overcome
the inertia of the vested interests.
There are two basic issues which divide
President Hutchins and his opponents. Both are
philosophical. The first has to do with the
nature of knowledge and the distinction
between science and philosophy, as different kinds
of knowledge having different histories and
different utilities. The second has to do with the
nature of man, whether he is merely an
animal whose biological destiny is adjustment in
the struggle for existence, or, though an animal,
also rational and having a uniquely human destiny
of self-perfection. The educational consequences of
affirming that man is a rational animal, different
in kind and not merely in degree of intelligence,
and that philosophy is more eminently knowledge
than science, having a validity is which is
independent of scientific findings, and a utility
superior to that of science -- these determine the
main points in the Hutchins program. The errors of
progressive education are similarly determined by
the educational consequences of the opposing
denials.
It would be naive to suppose that these issues
could be adequately argued in short scope. Even in
a fairly long book, I have failed to argue these
matters with rhetorical effectiveness. Not only
does the resolution of these issues rest upon
profound and extensive considerations, but the mere
statement of the affirmative theses arouses so many
and such violent prejudices in minds which have
suffered the kind of education which their denial
has sanctioned, that it is almost impossible to get
a hearing, even from persons who call themselves
liberal. It almost seems that being educated under
the Hutchins program is a necessary prerequisite
for understanding the educational philosophy on
which it turns. Similarly, the educational
philosophy of our teachers' colleges is received as
the obvious truth by those who have been educated
under its auspices. But unless everything is
just a matter of opinion, andthe might of
the majority makes right, these issues are genuine,
andthe truth lies only on one side.
Furthermore, philosophic truth is not a private
intuition. It is capable of such explication and
demonstration that it becomes the public property
of all minds free enough from prejudice to be
convinced by evidence and reasons.
Since adequate argument is not possible here, I
must content myself with trying to sharpen the
issues themselves. I choose to do this in a frankly
polemic manner -- for there is no point in
concealing an adherence to the truth as one sees it
-- by defining the philosophical errors which
underlie progressive education. I shall discuss,
first, the twin myths of progress and utility which
are the misleading notions of pragmatic positivism;
second, the false educational psychology which
denies or ignores man's rationality; and, finally,
the way in which the progressive program has been
determined by these errors.
It is no play on words to say that the myth
of universal progress,progress in all
things, lies at the heart of progressive
education. This myth of progress is a
nineteenth-century notion, due partly to positivism
and partly to illicit extensions of the doctrine of
evolution. Progress differs from change in that it
is change in a definite direction and is measured
by standards which evaluate stages in a process as
better and worse. The growth of a plant or animal
is a progress from infancy to maturity, to the
point where the organism reaches its biological
perfection. But everywhere in nature growth is
followed by decline, maturity by senescence. The
one possible exception to the rule that natural
progress is not interminable is that which the
panorama of evolution appears to present. But even
here, taking the facts as they are usually told in
the story of evolution, it is only by a
questionable extrapolation of the curve that one
could conclude that there is interminable progress
in the development of forms of life. Yet it was
just this uncritically reached conclusion which
propagated the notion that the law of progress
rules all things, and that as we move into the
future we go endlessly from worse to better, from
lower to higher.
The other source of this myth of progress was a
view of cultural history, dictated by positivism.
If one supposes, as the positivists do, that
science is the only form of valid, general
knowledge about the world, and that the technical
application of science to the control of things is
the only kind of utility which knowledge has, then
there appears to be uninterrupted and interminable
progress in human affairs as well as in nature. For
does not Auguste Comte tell us that there are three
stages in human history -- the superstitious or
religious; the speculative, conjectural, or
philosophical; and the stage of positive knowledge,
or the scientific -- and is this not progress? In
the era of science itself does not every century
see the ever increasing scope of scientific
knowledge and the ever enlarging domain of
technology? As the years roll by, we have more and
better knowledge, bigger and better inventions or
utilities. The positivists are so enraptured by
this picture of progress and by the dreams of the
future it generates that they are somehow able to
forget that in our moral and political affairs a
Hitler and a Mussolini and their followers are not
much of an improvement upon a Nero or a Caligula
and the gangs they led. But this flaw in the
picture must not be forgotten, for it is the clue
to one of the two great exceptions to the law of
progress in human affairs which make the notion of
universal and perpetual progress a deceptive
illusion.
The first exception is human nature itself. If
we can discriminate between nature and nurture, we
can understand the sense in which human nature is
constant throughout all the variations of culture
and all the transformations of history. Man is a
biological species, and if a species means anything
it means a constant nature which is transmitted
from generation to generation. When that constancy
fails, when another specific nature is generated,
we have, whether by mutation or otherwise, the
origin of a new species. It must follow, then, that
so long as what is generated remains specifically
man, human nature remains constant from generation
to generation. By human nature I mean the native
abilities and the organic needs which everywhere
constitute the same animal, known as man.
The second exception is more difficult to
discuss, for it turns on the essential difference
between philosophy and science. The positivists
cannot accept biological science and deny the
specific constancy of man; they can remain
positivists and still recognize how the unchanging
character of human nature explains the failure of
progress in social and political affairs. But they
cannot remain positivists and agree that philosophy
is knowledge which is not only nonscientific in its
method but also independent in its validity of all
the ever changing findings and formulations of
research. Since I cannot argue the point here, I
shall try only to indicate how affirming philosophy
affects our view of cultural history.
As I have said elsewhere, the positivist is
right in his effort to de-ontologize science, to
define science as knowledge of phenomenal
relationships, generalizing the correlation of
diverse sensibles and being totally unconcerned
with substances and causes. He is wrong only when
he is a negativist, that is, when he denies
philosophy, which is ontological knowledge, which
is concerned with substances and causes, and which
seeks to penetrate beneath the sensible to the
intelligible. There is a clear distinction here
between the formal objects or noetic aims of
science and philosophy; and that distinction is
accompanied by a distinction in method. All human
knowledge arises from sense-experience, but the
activity of the senses alone can account for no
generalizations of the sort which distinguish both
science and philosophy from history. Intelligence
or reason must work reflectively, analytically,
inductively over the materials of sense-experience.
These two factors, sense and reason, observation
and reflection, experience and thought, are common
to both science and philosophy. The difference in
their methods lies in the fact that science
requires special experience, the data achieved by
all kinds of research, investigation whether
experimental or otherwise; whereas philosophy
arises from reflection about the common experience
of mankind, the experience which all men have
everywhere and at all times as a result of the
noninvestigative use of their senses, and which is
always the same because the sensitive powers of man
are as constant as his nature and the natural world
on which they operate is the same.
From this distinction in object and method
arises a basic difference in the historical careers
of science and philosophy. Science is progressive,
and interminably so, as long as men are ingenious
and industrious in their efforts at research. There
are no apparent limitations to the progress in
scientific knowledge except the width, breadth, and
depth of the world to be investigated. But
philosophy does not grow with an enlargement of
experience. Its data are always the same. It grows
only by a refinement in the intellectual prowess
itself, by profounder insight, by better analysis.
Its development is restricted by the limitations of
man's intellectual powers; and if our ancestors
have accumulated philosophic wisdom, we can improve
little on their work. I am saying no more here than
what Whitehead means when he says that the history
of European philosophy is nothing but a series of
footnotes to Plato. I cannot resist adding that
Aristotle wrote most of the footnotes.
In short, there is perpetual progress in
scientific knowledge because of the nature of
science itself, the contingency of its conclusions
as relative to the available data; but there is no
such progress in philosophy or wisdom because its
conclusions are not contingent, and the relevant
experience is always the same. The historical
movement of science is a straight line ever upward.
The historical movement of philosophy is a
deepening spiral, in every turn of which the same
truths and the same errors reappear. Professor
Gilson has magnificently demonstrated this in his
William James Lectures on "The Unity of
Philosophical Experience."
The essential difference between science and
philosophy bears not only on the myth of progress,
but also on the utility myth. The positivist,
regarding only science as knowledge, thinks that
the only utility knowledge can have is to give man
control over the operable things of nature. But the
things which we can control are utilities only in
the sense of means. None of them is an end in
itself. Clearly the difference between intelligent
and unintelligent operation lies in referring means
to ends. Furthermore, everyone can see that science
is the kind of knowledge which can be used for evil
purposes as well as good, according as the means it
provides us with are ordered to the right or the
wrong ends. But what determines the ordering of
means to ends, and what provides the criteria for
judging ends as good and bad? Either this is mere
opinion, and again might makes right, or it is
knowledge. But it is clearly not scientific
knowledge, for otherwise science could protect
itself and all mankind from the misuses to which it
is so readily put. It is philosophical knowledge,
which in the practical order is called morals and
politics, that must direct us in intelligent
operation toward the right ends. The utility of
philosophy is thus superior to that of science, and
what is even more obvious, science without moral
wisdom -- a command of utilities without right
direction -- is a dangerous thing. The more science
we have, the more we are in need of wisdom to
prevent its misuse. The imminent tragedy of the
contemporaryworld is written in the fact
that positivistic modern culturehas
magnified science and almost completely emancipated
itselffrom wisdom.
One further point must be added. Philosophy's
independence of science holds in the practical as
well as in the theoretical sphere. We have not
progressed in moral wisdom. All the advances in
science have not changed the moral and political
problems which men face, except to make them more
difficult because men have more implements at hand
to gain their ends.