Two Cultures: Where's the other one, dude?

I finished reading C.P. Snow's Two Cultures essay of 1959.  It isn't quite what I was expecting.  I've always heard it described as a lament of the divide between the two sides of academia.  I was thus expecting some sort of essay along the lines of a defense of broad liberal arts education, and I was dreading the platitudes.  Instead, it seems to be more of a critique of the UK's historic emphasis on humanities over the sciences in their elite educational establishments, followed by a comparison of the ways in which the UK, US, and USSR educated people in the 1950's and a discussion of alleged needs for more scientists and engineers in the UK. He's not trying to integrate science and humanities so much as get STEM up on the pedestal.  He might insist that it's a call for equality, but there's precious little discussion of the UK's needs in any area outside STEM, or a comparison of how other countries educate people in subjects besides STEM. In many ways it could be read as an early "STEM crisis" narrative.  However, it's difficult for me to extract much from that for comparative purposes, because I'm mostly only familiar with American "STEM crisis" narratives, not the UK analogues, so I can't really say if this essay is sign of everything happening before and happening again, or a sign of genuine change.

Here are some interesting tidbits that I can take away from it:

First, Snow acknowledges that the Industrial Revolution happened in the UK despite the lack of a first-rate basic science establishment in the 18th century, and without much involvement from college grads.  This is an important thing, one under-appreciated by the STEM crisis hand-wringers.  I made this point before regarding Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Dragon.  I wish he'd considered what this might mean for future economic development.  We academics over-estimate our own importance, and he went from academia to the Ministry of Labour and then a post as a civil service commissioner.

Second, the differences that Snow notes between the US, UK, and USSR systems, regarding their relative levels of specialization, seem to remain true today.  To this day, Russian scientific research institutes often have incredibly narrow names and mandates.  They don't produce mechanical engineers; they produce graduates in computational thermal systems analysis, and structural mechanics, and so forth.

Third, he traces the cultural differences between science and humanities to the fact that the humanities scholars study the human condition, which tends to inflict pessimism, while scientists believe that technical solutions to problems are possible.  On that point I agree with him completely.  I wish he'd said something interesting about how to educate people who integrate those mindsets on some interesting level, not just "OMG, I'm, like, so broad-minded!  Because I see multiple perspectives!"

Fourth, I give Snow credit for recognizing that the production of Einsteins is not the main task of a STEM education program.  He believes that the "alpha plus" types will do fine as long as they're put in some sort of half-decent academic environment.  It's hard to screw up with them.  It's also pretty hard to screw up the "alpha" types.  (He seems to have adopted the language of Huxley's Brave New World here.)  He recognizes that the hard part is training people in the third tier, some of whom will do technical work but many of whom will go on to do managerial or business ("human") work in the technical fields.  I give him credit for recognizing that that's more important than trying to ensure that a system maximizes the output of top talent.  With the top talent you mostly have to get out of the way, and it's only the dilettantes who worry about how The System is allegedly so unfair to would-be Einsteins.  He doesn't have much in the way of practical advice on how to do it, but he gets full points for at least recognizing it.

He has one spectacularly wrong prediction:  He predicted that since human ability is pretty much the same everywhere it's inevitable that the gap between the rich industrialized world and the rest of the world would evaporate by 2000.  While he was right on the even distribution of ability around the world, he under-estimated the systemic, cultural, and institutional factors that are needed to develop successful industrial sectors.  That said, he was at least right that the poor countries would start to compete with rich countries; by 2000 the off-shoring of factories was well underway, and this November we felt the effects of that in the US election.

So, in sum, Snow's "Two Cultures" lecture isn't what it is usually cited for being about, but it contains an interesting bunch of tidbits.  I purchased an edition with several more essays and lecture transcripts, so I'll have more to say about Snow in the coming week.

Classical education, character, competition, and privilege

I have run across the argument that the Imperial Chinese practice of selecting officials based on tests of Confucian classics was a factor that limited China's ability to innovate and keep up with the West.  It's a tempting argument, and the more I think about it the more I sympathize, but first we have to explore one significant objection to the argument:  Reading Hofstadter makes it clear that the educational systems of all Western powers in the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries emphasized classical studies for their elites.  I don't know that reading Homer and Plato is any better or worse for one's character and judgment than reading Confucius.  I'll grant that the Western canon taught to elites seems to have had greater diversity of sources than the Chinese canon, but I don't think that the choice of texts was the limiting factor.  Rather, I think it may be that (ironically) the Western system may have put less pressure on elites.  Let me explain.

Advanced schooling was not terribly commonplace in Western countries prior to the 20th century.  Anybody who got an advanced education was probably from a pretty privileged background.  The people teaching in the high schools, boarding schools, universities, and whatnot might be stressing mastery of the classical liberal arts, but the kids in those schools knew that they had a good shot at a decent future just based on their backgrounds.  For most of them, academic excellence was not necessary; getting by was enough.  That's not to say that they all drank and partied their way through boarding school--many did, but not all.  There were still sports and clubs and other pursuits befitting a young gentleman of the right background.  A person who did a decent job in class and also earned respect as a leader on the sporting field and in his clubs might be recognized as a young gentleman of the right character and be recruited into some fast track in public service or business.  It might not be like today's career fairs, but if he attracted the right notice it would serve his future well.

The key thing is that he was in an environment where he stood out for going above the minimum, because he and the people around him all felt some baseline of security.  Within the context of their society and upbringing, they already had good reason to feel fairly secure.  Those who excelled did so because of their character, not because it was their only shot.

Contrast that with today's kids seeking admission to elite colleges.  I'd be the first to say that anybody who can seriously even contemplate an elite college will probably be OK if "all" that they get is their "safety school."  However, they don't feel that way!  They feel like they need to push farther and farther.  They aren't on two athletic teams AND in orchestra AND in a community service club AND doing a special science club AND getting A's AND taking AP classes in five different fields because they are well-rounded and simply love all of those things.  OK, a few of them are.  However, the vast majority know that there's a game to play, and so they play it.  Some will become deeply humanitarian as a result of all of that service, and be humbled by all of the privilege that they enjoy.  Some will become arrogant and narcissistic because they feel that their giant resumes prove that they are so great.  Most will wind up somewhere in between and just keep pushing on in life.  But the key thing is that people observing them in that moment can't know who will become a humanitarian and who will become a narcissist!  The competition obscures character.  You never know who is passionate and who is just doing what they need to do.

There's a lot to be said for taking people outside of their comfort zones, but there's also a lot to be said for observing people in their comfort zones.  Anybody who has ever taught pre-meds (or been a college student taking freshman chemistry alongside pre-meds...) knows that pre-meds are all the exact same ultra-competitive little shits (sadly).  Anybody who has been to more than one doctor knows that doctors vary widely in personality, approach, and skill.  Before they get into med school they are all the same because they have to be.  Once they get into med school, they know that their worst case is a low-prestige residency in primary care...which will still yield them a comfortable income!  Some will push hard anyway and qualify for the most competitive residencies in the most competitive specialties.  Some will just keep their nose to the grindstone and do a good job and become good doctors but not shine in the most competitive heights.  And some will be slackers who keep malpractice lawyers employed.  But they all know what their baseline is, they have a certain margin of comfort, so now their internal motivation and character matter.  Really, it's not so different from observing people after tenure.  Some make good use of their security and leverage it to greater accomplishment, some just keep on doing decent work, and a few are as lazy as you'd fear.

The 17th to 19th century Western systems of elite education varied in many ways, but they all took the sons of privilege, put them in an environment that combined classical learning with extracurricular pursuits, and told them that they'll all do OK in life but how far beyond that they go will depend on their character, effort, and accomplishment.  Those sons of privilege then proceeded to distinguish themselves to varying degrees, and could be observed for all manner of traits, to be recruited (or not) for various paths.  It was more like medical school or tenure than the Chinese system of ever-more-competitive exams for ever-higher stakes.

The problem with our elites is not that they got good grades and test scores.  The problem is not even that they enjoy privilege and security. Every society has privileged elites--even (and especially) the ones that undertook an ideological project of being "classless."  Rather, the problem is that the political system is too closely aligned with sectors that give their greatest rewards to people who play the game for top colleges and then play the game for top law and MBA programs and then play the game to be recruited by the biggest law firms, banks, and corporations.  I don't care that elite law firms and banks and big corporations exist and have their games.  I care that we have a political class too focused on those elements of the economy, while the middle is hollowed out.

The real solution has nothing to do with universities and everything to do with economic policy.  But if you absolutely insist on trying to at least partially improve the elite class through college admissions we are stuck with a paradox: The elites show their character when they are most comfortable, not when they are most competitive.  However, there's no morally or socially acceptable to pitch protection or comfort for elites as a solution to inequality.  There are far more people who would like to attend Stanford and Harvard and Yale than there are spots at Stanford and Harvard and Yale. The only morally acceptable response is to make the applicants demonstrate (in some way) that they are worthy (by some measure).  That measure can be grades, character, writing samples, extracurricular accomplishments, service, interviews, whatever.  However, as long as there are way more people who want it than there are spots, and as long as there are huge returns to getting one of those spots, there will be intense competition.  Consequently, you will be observing how people compete on grades, or interviews, or service, or whatever, not what they do when they are relaxed.

I have no easy fixes to offer, but my best guess is that you'll  have to just accept a certain amount of entrenched elitism, let their kids relax and let their guard down instead of doing 10 different extracurriculars alongside sports and AP classes, and then use some class-based and/or race-based affirmative action to add some non-elite kids to the mix.  No competitive formula will fix things.  But I'll take some bright young gentlemen (and ladies) who displayed their character from a position of comfort over the socioeconomic elite version of a pre-med.

Zhao, Chapters 5-7

In Chapters 5-7 of Zhao's book, I feel like the worst parts of China's education system are what America's would be if every bad part were turned up to 11.  Chapter 5 talks about the hitting of arbitrary targets:  Whatever the Emperor wants, the Emperor gets.  If it is decreed that a big wall will be built, then damn the expenses, the wall will be built.  If Chairman Mao wants to increase steel production, then steel production will be increased, even if it is to the detriment of every other activity in society.  If professionals (academic and otherwise) need to publish in order to get promoted, and the only thing that matters is the number of publications (because bureaucracies need numerical metrics) then fake journals will be utilized.  If k-12 schools are going to be rewarded for the number of patents filed by students (Zhao is apparently not joking) then k-12 students will file patents of zero quality, and if the system is going to reward this then the  patent office will be obliged to accept and approve those patents.

I feel much the same way about the paperwork demands of the modern American higher ed bureaucracy.  It has been decreed that reports on outcomes assessment are to be written, so those reports are written.  However, thoughtful, meaningful data collection and analysis are non-trivial activities, and the System has no ability to fund the massive efforts that would be required to produce thoughtful evaluation of anything other than the most mass-produced course delivery.  Mass production sounds good to some technocrats, but "Innovation! And! Transformation!" also sound good to them, so the system continues to tolerate the intellectual diversity that is anathema to standardized, mass-produced assessment.  As a result, the system accepts meaningless reports to show that the requisite numbers of reports were filed.*  Moreover, the only thing that The System values even more than the production of reports is ensuring that no boats are rocked, and a truly meaningful look under the hood might tell us...well, it might tell us that the phrase "Gentleman's C" refers to a problem that is timeless and universal rather than old, musty, and covered in ivy.

In chapter 7, Zhao notes that China's rulers are not and have not been oblivious to the problems of exclusive reliance on standardized testing.  The Imperial Exams were abolished a bit more than a century ago, but the competitive test prep habits inspired by those exams have not easily faded.  When the universities give weight to measures of creativity (an oxymoron if ever there was one) parents push this children to excel at those measures and bribe the evaluators.  When the universities give weight to patents (!) the children produce the requisite numbers of junk patents.  If they reward performance in artistic or athletic talent competitions, the parents prepare their children accordingly.

Some  of this is surely a consequence of 1300 years of test prep habits not fading easily.  Cultures do not change overnight, as evidenced by Marxism's utter failure to change Chinese culture. (I hasten to note that the Chinese people's refusal to replace their traditional social structures with Marxism is a very, very good thing!)  However, Chapter 6 offers another point for why these hyper-competitive academic habits have not faded easily:  In both the past and the present, the highest-status jobs in China have been and are government jobs with academic requirements, not private sector jobs.  When there are few paths to advancement, people will do anything and everything that it takes to get on one of those paths.

In the US, we most definitely do NOT have a problem of assigning low status to private sector jobs.  However, we may be seeing a narrowing and bifurcation of career paths.  In the alleged "service economy" there will be the people paid well for jobs at desks and the people paid poorly for everything else.  There are problems with the economic sustainability of this model (e.g. what, exactly, will we produce for sale to the rest of the world?) but if we leave that aside for now, and just focus on the social and educational elements, a bifurcation of opportunity will raise the stakes of elite education, and with those rising stakes we will see more intense competition, and more cutting of corners.

I want the reader to consider the hypothesis that the health of an education system relies on the economy more than the health of an economy relies on the education system.  I do not simply mean that higher GDP means more money to inject into the education system; you can inject cash into good or bad schools and get good or bad results.   Rather, I mean that a robust and sustainable economy with a breadth of desirable paths and opportunities will be conducive to a more robust and sustainable educational  system, with more intellectual breadth and a wider variety of approaches and paths for a wider variety of students.  On the other hand, an economy with bifurcated opportunities will see intense competition for the handful of pathways to the better opportunities.  Competition can be a very good thing, but intense competition for the wrong sorts of things does not lead to better learning or better innovation.

*Let me reassure you that I am, needless to say, merely reporting unfortunate tales related to me by colleagues at other, less conscientious, institutions.  My own institution is, of course, an exception, producing exemplary assessment reports of the highest caliber and most thoughtful analysis.

First thoughts on "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Dragon"

The first couple chapters set the stage by talking about the Western infatuation with Chinese education and the history of the Imperial exams.  Apparently there is nothing new about Westerners proclaiming that we need to emulate Chinese education.  Jesuit missionaries were impressed by the effort that went into the Imperial Exam system centuries ago.  Zhao, born and raised in China before pursuing an academic career in the US, makes a historical case that our infatuation with China is misplaced, noting (among other things) that the Industrial Revolution passed China by because of an authoritarian education system that emphasized Confucian teachings over science and technology.  This resulted in China's humiliations at the hands of foreign powers in the 19th century.

The basic historical survey seems consistent with everything else I've seen, as far as the facts go, and well-argued as far as the analysis goes.  Nonetheless, I want to quibble with the author on two points where I think he's not pushing as far as he could with the implications of certain assumptions.

First, in the introduction, Zhao argues that we are mistaken to emulate China's exultation of effort over all else.  He says that it's an unrealistic expectation that carries the implication that if the poor fail it's their own fault for being lazy.  Certainly that is one way to apply such an attitude, and we often see the poor in the US castigated for alleged laziness.  However, I'm not convinced that the problem is our attitude towards effort, but rather a combination of (1) our attitude towards the poor and (2) elevating a theory of education to a theory of everything.

In the trenches of higher ed, the notion that failure comes from lack of effort has a brighter, shinier twin that says that anyone can succeed if they try.  This brighter, shinier twin eschews many traditional metrics of success and ability in favor of concepts like "growth mindset" and "grit" and argues for democratizing access to advanced study and elite institutions.  Maybe you share their perspective, or maybe you don't.  (For my own part, I believe that success is mostly effort but not solely effort, so I'm in a mushy middle.)  Regardless of your own view, the attitude that equates success with effort is one that can be harnessed in the service of progressive causes just as easily as it can be used to attack the poor.  Indeed, in the modern American context, those who argue that academic success has a strong connection to innate abilities are seen as playing on a slippery slope that equates academic failure with biological traits, traits that the less savory in our society then argue are more common in certain groups.

My point is that if you have a theory of what causes academic success or failure, you can, if you wish, use that theory to argue that the poor are lazy, or genetically inferior, or less virtuous, or whatever other trait you correlate with failure.  Likewise, you can use that theory to propose ways of uplifting the poor and disadvantaged, or at least ways of making their situation less bad than it currently is.  Some of those proposals may be more patronizing than others, but the point is that once  you have a theory of success and a theory of failure, how you apply it to the poor and disadvantaged depends on additional factors in how you view the poor and disadvantaged.  The problem is not your theory of education, it's your theory of the poor.

Of course, elevating a theory of education to a social and economic "theory of everything" is not a new thing in American society, as Hofstadter noted.  Our colonial predecessors wanted to use education to produce better Christians, the people of the Founding era saw education as the key to republican* virtue, social reformers from the 20th century to today have viewed education as the solution to social and economic inequality, and business and the defense establishment see it as the key to technological superiority.  Education solves all ills, we believe.  How you apply that notion to the poor depends on your attitude toward them, not your preferred educational theory.

Also, Zhao argues that the Chinese education system kept China from participating in the Industrial Revolution.  To a large extent that's true--certainly they did little to train a class of scientists and engineers.  However, all great technological advances ultimately require an enterprising business class with the flexibility, ambition, and fearless, stupid, naive over-confidence to go out and risk everything on that.  Imperial China didn't have an MIT or even a Tsinghua, but Cambridge and Oxford were scientific backwaters during the Industrial Revolution.  The UK nonetheless enjoyed the fruits of the Industrial Revolution because their society made room for entrepreneurship.  Perhaps China's real weakness was not its schools but rather a rigid social structure that allowed less room for technological and economic innovation?  Indeed, to this day, while America has some fine engineering schools that produce great entrepreneurs, most American entrepreneurship (at least outside the high-tech realm) does not come from universities.  In fact, most entrepreneurship cannot and should not come from the academic world.  The function of most academic disciplines is a conservative one, and the key to a healthy society is to maintain that important conservative function without building all of society around it.

*In the sense of a Republic, not a political party.

Next book: Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Dragon?

My most stressful recent deadline has passed.  I have many more to go, but the worst is over.  In the near future I will start reading and blogging about Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Dragon: Why China has the best (and worst) education system in the world.  It should be interesting to examine Chinese education a mere century after the end of a system that lasted 1300 years.