Comprehensive Attendance Trophies

Government Schooling Teaches Confusion

When do you wear a cap and gown? I have worn these garments just twice in my life. The first occasion was in 1982, at the University of Nottingham, when I was awarded my BSc (Hons) degree in Chemistry. The second was in 2000, when the president of Cardiff University, Baron Kinnock of Bedwellty, awarded me, along with several hundred others, a Masters in Education. It was that notable Lord Kinnock, who, in an earlier incarnation as the leader of the UK Labour Party, Mr. Neil Kinnock, had mused on why it was that he was the first person in his family ever to get to university – a famous speech, later plagiarized by a famous US politician; a misjudgment that ended the 1988 first presidential campaign of one Senator Joe Biden.

Caps and Gowns

In the United States, most of the population have worn these caps and gowns at one period of their lives – when they graduated from High School. What did this graduation signify? Did it signify a particular qualification, achieved by the young person? Hardly. This “graduation” certificate was awarded to the overwhelming majority of the 18-year-olds, and was a prize for having survived 12 years of government schooling; a feat not unworthy of formal recognition.

Lest anyone should think that this is a diatribe merely against American education, and not against the British version, which employed me for a large proportion of my adult life, think again. It is true that British children usually, or rather used to, leave school at 18 with certificates achieved in Advanced-level examinations. Yet continual grade inflation over decades has rendered even these certificates as useless, so that universities and businesses often have the need to further educate, or rather re-educate, their new recruits.

Confusion

I was a part of this circus of government schooling for nearly two decades. As with the writer and educator John Taylor Gatto, who I quoted in my previous education article, I now view the government schooling, which I once supported so vehemently, as educationally illiterate and dangerous. The awards which these government schools bestow on their graduates, I now view as glorified attendance trophies.

One of the arguments against government schooling – and you will notice that, like Gatto, I have started to differentiate between schooling and education – is that no one really knows what they are for. Sometimes, people refer to preparing young people for the world of work. Yet the captains of the world of work seem, mostly, to agree that their new recruits are horrendously unprepared for that world. In the days of apprenticeships, and technical, grammar, or arts colleges, one could easily identify the usefulness and applicability of the lessons learned. As I noted in my previous article, Gatto identified seven lessons, which are actually delivered successfully by government schools. The first of these is Confusion.

A staple diet of the sort of teacher training college that I attended is the concept of Pavlov’s dogs. These mistreated animals began to associate the ringing of a bell with being given a food treat, so much so that the sound of a bell would cause them to salivate, even if no food was offered. Imagine teaching that lesson to a class of 15-year-olds, and then the bell goes, and you send them off for lunch.

Assembly Line

To mix the metaphors, government schools are like an auto assembly plant. The conveyor belt brought me a class of 13-year-olds for an hour, and I did some science on them. When the bell sounded, they were in the middle of a scientific thought, but they had to leave to go have some history done on them for an hour. Meanwhile, I got a class of 14-year-olds who needed Physics doing. Why do we think that we can call this education? Why can we not pursue the lesson with the 13-year-olds until it is complete? More to the point, what is the rationale for separating the 13-year-olds from the 14-year-olds?

I used to defend the system. It isn’t perfect, I would opine, but it is the only practical way of organizing a school institution like this, to make sure that everyone gets their fair share. But what is their fair share? How is it defined? And if there is a problem here that the organizational structure cannot solve, why do so few people realize that it is the organizational structure itself, which should be abandoned.

Not All Is Hopeless

Of course, not all is hopeless. The number of families prepared to abandon that organizational structure is growing. The hugely damaging Covid lockdowns have at least had a positive effect in pushing more families towards taking their own responsibilities for education. We have forgotten the biblical mandate given for human government, which is threefold. God has ordained civil government, church government, and family government. He did not give civil government the jurisdiction over the education of our children (yes, Mr. Biden, they are OUR children, not yours, and not the teachers’). That privilege is reserved for the family. It is biblically legitimate to delegate that educational privilege, in the same way that most families delegate food production, and buy at least a proportion of their food needs from the grocery store. But if the store sells inferior food, we go to a different store, or grow our own. In the same way, we should not put our children in the failed, incoherent educational garbage cans, which government schools have become. There are better alternatives. And don’t dismiss the fact that you can almost certainly do the job better yourselves, as parents. You are the ones who love and know your children, and are cognisant of their needs and abilities. Do you feels unqualified to be your child’s teacher? Good! You are probably “unqualified” to be your child’s Mom or Dad too! But you are careful to do a loving job of it, because God gave you that role, and He helps and provides, as you pray to Him for strength and ability. Just add your child’s education to that prayer list, and you will do a fine job!