Isegoria

If you want to find children who lack education today, the place to find them is in school:

That’s because nearly all children are in school. That’s the good news. Governments have built schools and hired teachers. Parents have seen that schooling is key to their child’s future and are sending their children to school. There has been more progress made in expanding schooling since the UN Declaration of Human Rights in 1948 acknowledged education as a basic right than in all previous human history.

But the bad news is that hundreds of millions of children are starting school, going day after day, year after year, but not really learning. One study found that almost three-quarters of a recent cohort of youth in Zambia were innumerate and six of 10 illiterate. But only 7% of these youth had not attended school. In fact, half of those who were innumerate and a third who were illiterate had not just started school but completed grade 6. These children were being schooled but not educated. Schooling without learning is just time served. Unfortunately, Zambia is far from alone in having schooling without adequate education.

The cumulative results of international and national assessments around the world have led to a widespread recognition that, while there are disadvantaged groups still excluded from schooling, there is a global learning crisis of children already in school.

This is all terribly surprisingly to people who learned a lot in school and kept going back for more.

In India, for example, the government made a major commitment to finance elementary education. Central government spending on elementary education increased 11-fold between 2001 and 2013. Over the same period, assessments show the percentage of children in grade five who could read or do simple subtraction declined.

In Indonesia, a major commitment to increasing teachers’ salaries has led to more than $4bn in additional spending a year – but a rigorous evaluation shows almost exactly zero learning gain from students taught by the more highly paid teachers.

John Gustafson, a visiting professor at the National University of Singapore, explains how Singapore universities became world-class so quickly:

When the Singapore government decides to do something, it never goes halfway. They figure out what resources it will take, and they spend them. And if something simply takes time, no matter what the resource cost, then they (the government) also have a lot of patience. Having consistent political leadership for 50 years will do that. They decided they wanted NUS and NTU to be world-class universities, just the same way they decided, say, that they wanted a subway system that was second to none. There is so little corruption in the Singapore government that it is possible to allocate money to something and not have most of it siphoned off by bureaucrats with bad comb-overs and incredibly generous pension plans. So when the government decides to spend money on education, it (gasp) actually goes to education.

Also, I have noticed some quality controls on the teaching that go beyond what I’ve seen at other universities. They treat education the way they would treat a manufacturing process. Use quality control; measure everything; fix problems as soon as they are discovered; please the customer; show zero tolerance for lousy teaching; treat course descriptions as a legally binding contract for what will be learned by those who take the course and apply themselves.

When professors create final exams, their exams are scrutinized and approved by independent reviewers before they can be given to students.

When they decide which courses to offer, they have one faculty member decide what needs to be taught, and a different faculty member decide who should teach that course, like a separation-of-powers principle.

They bring in external review committees to look at what they teach and how they teach, and solicit critical input that they take to heart. I know other universities use external review committees as well, but when NUS does it, they pick reviewers whose academic credentials have earned them biographical entries in Wikipedia.

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It’s amazing how fast universities can excel when they are freed from politics, both internal and external. I think that is what has happened at NUS and NTU.

For half a century we’ve been trying to reduce the academic achievement gap and ameliorate the social pathologies of the underclass. Robert Weissberg suggests that our test-centric school system should pull its narrow focus back from pure academics and work toward imparting civilization:

First, the civil society requires people controlling their emotions, especially violent urges. As Pinker depicts the transformation, reacting to insults with immediate violence (defending one’s honor) slowly gave way to dueling that permitted multiple “honorable” escape routes which, in turn, transitioned to relying on litigation (“see you in court”). Simultaneously, the culture shifted so defending one’s reputation by drawing a sword for some trivial offense vanished thanks to the aggrieved party learning to hold his tongue, count to ten or develop a thick skin. Pinker also tells how ridicule eventually undermined the violence-soaked code that demanded a gentleman risk his life over trifling slights. Today’s civilized people see virtue in what was once spinelessness.

Second, civilization requires across-the-board delayed gratification, self-discipline and moderation. One does not eat a lunch snack at breakfast or crave the latest iPhone. Refined people now wait until all the others are served before eating. Think habits such as finishing school work before heading off to play or forgoing sex until adulthood. Most of all learn to resist crime as an alternative to employment and saving money.

Third, civilized people learn to obey authority regardless of contrary urges. When the teacher tells you to sit still and be quiet, you sit still and stop talking. As an adult one heeds police orders regardless of opinions regarding the police officer or policing more generally. In other words, civilization is impossible if “everybody does their own thing” or people can autonomously decide their own rules. Respect for the rule of law is what separates civilization from savagery.

The good news, as Pinker documents, is that history overflows with recipes to refine the unruly. Surely, even in the absence of stable families, teachers can impart these requirements if permitted to employ the traditional classroom discipline — stigma, humiliation, shame and even corporal punishment. Youngsters can certainly be taught the etiquette facilitating peaceful society — saying “excuse me” if inadvertently bumping into a classmate. Even students with room temperature IQ’s can be socialized though, to be sure, this quest may take years of punishment before avoiding fights over petty insults becomes second nature.

Moreover, it would cost almost nothing to begin teaching even kindergarten students habit such as punctuality, always being prepared and respective language — its “Mr. Smith,” not “hey teach.” Teachers could demand that youngsters tidy up after themselves so no milk and cookies until everything is neatly put away and the proper place. When I attended grade school no student could enter the building until everyone was perfectly lined up outside and absolutely silent. What about assigning books where the kindly hero outsmarts his boorish, brutal rival? Pinker tells of the many etiquette books of the Middle Ages that carefully spelled out behavior for a proper gentleman, and these can be adapted for today’s youngsters. While there might be rough and tumble sports but woe to any kid who turns a friendly dodge ball game into an exercise of taunting rivals that will almost guarantee violence. Punishment would be especially heavy if the miscreant continued this out of place behavior post game — who needs sports insults escalating into vendettas? The Battle of Waterloo may have been won on the playing fields of Eton, but if inner-city civilization is to be restored, the task must begin in thousands of violence prone schools and playgrounds.

Japanese educators have long understood the link between inculcating good behavior and academic achievement (it is called “learning to learn”). One practice requires youngsters to sit still and stare at a dot on the blackboard. Each student keeps a personal record of how long they are able to perform this patience-building task and those who excel are recognized for their accomplishment. In some classrooms the heat is turned down to 55 degrees and students wear shorts so as to learn how to work despite discomfort. Obviously there are countless other tactics, all practical, proven successful and many virtually cost-free but these examples should suffice.

Now, what is the prognosis for this civilizing mission? Alas, our advice is doomed and will surely be denounced.