Chapter 7 explores educational discourse in light of Rawls' concept of the "Veil of Ignorance." Philosopher John Rawls argued that a just society is the sort that people would agree to live in if they viewed it from behind a "veil of ignorance", i.e. they had no idea what sort of station they'd occupy, or what sorts of abilities or limitations they'd have. People would want to live in a society where they know that if they are disabled they'll be cared for, if they're whatever race they won't be discriminated against, and if they're talented they'll get some benefit from doing what they do well (even while contributing to the care for the disabled, etc.). Rawls has been influential on the left, and Freddie's key point is that leftists have accepted an ethical philosophy built around the notion that some people might have different abilities.
Also, while Freddie makes his argument in a way that should appeal to people with many different perspectives, he doesn't hide the fact that he himself is very, very left-wing. And one staple of socialist thought is "From each according to their abilities, to each according to their needs." It's not so different from the Parable of the Talents, in which Jesus says that those who have more should do more for all. Again, the key point is that it is perfectly possible to conceive of a charitable, egalitarian, and compassionate ethos that allows for differences in talent.
I like this quote on page 161:
Many people seem to believe that an assessment of academic potential necessarily involves an assessment of someone's overall human worth, despite the fact that the later does not at all follow from the former.
Indeed. Being bad at something can be a fact that does not diminish one's moral worth. I might be incapable of carrying a tune but that doesn't mean a musician needs to think less of me as a human. A musician might be terrible at physics but that doesn't mean I should think less of them.
Page 163:
When we look at a school system that we say is flawed, thanks to the impossible task that we've handed it, we are eeing our basic failure to really grapple with the reality of unequal human potential.
To be fair, Freddie is giving short shrift to the other inequalities that plague some school systems. If Chet McRitchie doesn't get the same high test scores as Rich Nobleford, the McRitchie parents might complain to the principal of their suburban high school, and the principal might need to take some headache medicine, but the higher level authorities are unlikely to strip away funding from the school. OTOH, if kids in an inner-city school get bad test scores (because of course they do), we know that authorities will continue to use that school as a canvas for their latest educational fad.
But, again, the fact that the task is hindered by nurture as much as nature does not make it any less impossible. What can a teacher do in the face of parents and neighborhoods and injustice and everything else that affects the kids in all the days and hours that they aren't in school?
Chapter 8 deals with Freddie's recommendations. I don't want to enumerate and address all of them. I just want to look at a few that interest me, because I blog books for fun, not for work.
Page 169, regarding whether it's a good idea to provide preschool and daycare and after school programs and other things for kids whose parents have to work and don't have good access to safe, enriching environments outside of school:
To constantly harp on the supposed academic advantages that these programs confer is to leave them vulnerable: they can then only be defended so long as those academic advantages actually assert themselves. As I've said, the research record for these programs is mixed at best, running to poor. If we make test scores and related indicators our primary argument, then we preemptively disarm ourselves in this fight.
Indeed. What if the "only" effect of afterschool programs or pre-K or whatever is that kids have a warm, safe, fun thing to do when their parents are working? What if the only effect of helping people is some human comfort but not an educational miracle? I actually see that as wholly consistent with my insistence that kids who do badly in physics shouldn't major in physics. What if the effect of them changing majors is that we don't solve a systemic issue but some people do spend 4 years actually learning something and experiencing the satisfaction of success? That doesn't guarantee a particular long-term outcome for them, but it won't hurt, and it will make 4 years of life genuinely good. Is that not good in and of itself?
Also, Freddie addresses and basically concurs with the argument made by Andrew Hacker in The Math Myth and Other STEM Delusions. I like Freddie's version better because he makes it clear that he's totally fine with closing down some paths early on. He's considered all of the dark possibilities of our educational system and he accepts that some paths and tracks should be closed off early.
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