An Introduction to Philosophy of Education

Full Title: An Introduction to Philosophy of Education: Fourth Edition
Author / Editor: Robin Barrow and Ronald Woods
Publisher: Routledge, 2006

 

Review © Metapsychology Vol. 11, No. 39
Reviewer: George Abaunza, Ph.D.

It is likely that there are just as many definitions or explanations of the nature of philosophy as there are philosophers. As a philosophy of education instructor I confess that this is just as likely when it comes to the myriad ways we might approach the study of education with our students. For instance, one might take an historical approach, rather than the thematic-analytic one offered here by Barrow and Woods. Yet, there is one thing anyone who has a stake in education, regardless of philosophical bent, ought to share in common; an unabashed concern for analytical rigor in the ways we conceptualize 'education' or what it means to 'be educated'. Without such clarity we cannot be said to be truly 'thinking' about education, let alone drawing consistent conclusions from empirical studies that first take their shape from these very conceptions.

This is a book that strikes directly at the challenges in properly conceptualizing the nature and relevant facets of education, and the importance of thinking clearly and meticulously about such concepts as they inform our educational practices. In their Introduction, Barrow and Woods state clearly that their book is intended "for those students of education who have little or no previous instruction in philosophical methods and techniques" (1); in other words, most, if not all education students today. With that said, I further confess that this is not a text I would likely offer the students in my pre-service teacher course, which is in no way to condemn the book. Quite the contrary, this is my inconspicuous way of pointing to the embarrassing fact of our desperately deficient academic reality today. This reality, precisely which the authors are attempting to address in this book, is none other than a cultural anti-intellectualism and wholesale reticence towards careful scrutiny and clear definition of the conceptions underpinning our everyday practices, be they in the educational, political, economic, or our very own domestic realms. It is a reality in which we live seemingly further from the prospect of philosophers who would be kings, or kings who would even pretend to be philosophical.

The hope of these authors is that our educators, at least to some extent, might open themselves to the possibility of approaching their practice (craft/art) in a philosophical manner. One cannot help but agree that clarifying one's conception of education "is the primary, the crucial, question in educational thought" and further, that as an educationalist, "If you cannot give an account of what you mean by a 'well-educated person', then we can make no sense of any claim you go on to make about education" (9-10). This book is important reading for philosophy of education instructors, their more serious students, or even students in an introductory course in general philosophy or critical thinking since, as the authors stress "the aim of this book is to show philosophy in action" (1).

As far as a working concept of 'education' the authors propose as a candidate the "normative definition" offered by R. S. Peters, according to whom "[Education] implies that something worthwhile is being or has been intentionally transmitted in a morally acceptable manner" (26, cf. Ethics and Education). But, consistent with their method throughout the book, this definition is found inadequate because it does not make clear what things ought to be valued or how one is to determine what these ought to be. With analytical acumen, the authors likewise take issue with so-called curriculum specialists or designers who go about their work "independently of serious philosophical consideration of aims" (66). They also warn against universal definitions of curriculum or condoning the superiority of any one specific curriculum over all others. After some conceptual analysis (as they refer to it), they offer the simple and safe suggestion that we remain focused on the "implications of adopting one conception of curriculum rather than another" if we hope to respond effectively to the most basic of questions — "What is to be taught?" (58). Still, it must be recognized that answers to this question are going to have normative underpinnings, which ought not to detract from such claims, but rather simply suggests that we be that much more careful in our thinking. Their conclusion: when conceptions of 'education' or 'being educated' are not rigorously analyzed they are of limited value.

Ironically, it seems that analysis itself does not always save us from inadequacy, since what we analyze may, itself, prove insufficient. For example, an entire chapter is dedicated to the threat to education from 'indoctrination', defined as "an unshakeable commitment to beliefs" and "a process of inculcating belief by non-rational methods" (76). Having withheld, so far, any definitive account of 'education', an elaboration on its antithesis at least sheds some light on what the authors mean by 'education' — a conception we find closely linked to rationality and the 'ability' to give reasons and question openly. But not enough is said regarding the subtle yet ubiquitous forms of cultural 'indoctrination'–media driven imperialist boastings and commercial driven ethics of self-centeredness and self-assuring materialism, et al–and the manner in which these manage to fly under the radar and seep into our educational system. Although the authors are logically adamant about the ways indoctrination contradicts the respect for the autonomy of the individual (invoking here a Kantian categorical imperative), not enough attention is paid to the ways in which our current educational stances at a most fundamental level preclude children from "examining for themselves the various moral values that are adhered to within [their] society and which they have been initially brought to conform to" (80). The authors speak against 'indoctrination' in the abstract, but not sufficiently to the acculturation that prevents our young, or any of our citizens for that matter, from being able to ever "seriously open [their] minds to the possibility that [their] viewpoint might be mistaken" (75).

Again, heavy emphasis is placed on rationality and our rational traditions, making these the hallmark of our humanity and what makes us uniquely educable. The 'rational' agent is defined succinctly as an individual who carefully scrutinizes his or her own judgments–"one who approaches matters with a concern and an ability to assess them by means of relevant reasoning…[an] ability to conceive of alternative ways of looking at things…and a questioning attitude" (94). Surely we can agree that to "deny the value of rationality is to do away with the importance of man's distinctive capacity for purposive action" (97). But here's the rub. From where do we derive and how do we develop or foster such abilities, dispositions, and concerns? The authors do an outstanding job of analyzing, defining, and clarifying longstanding conceptions and presumed virtues associated with the 'educated rational agent', but missing is any significant insight into one of the pressing problems in our culture today; generating the motivation for or inclination toward the very valuing of learning itself, without which attempts at education are stillborn.

The authors spend an entire chapter deflating the virtues of 'self-determination', as propounded by 'free-schooler' par excellence A. S. Neill. Again, the authors make a careful distinction, so that we do not make the mistake of taking 'self-determination' to mean complete license. To opt out of an education and thereby miss out on the opportunities that make one best fit to make decisions for oneself, for instance, seems nonsensical, as does assuming that children who lack a developed sense of personality would be capable of making such decisions for themselves. But once again we are steered towards the hyper-rationalism that forms the basis of the authors' conception of education, making "compelling…the ideal of a world in which people are concerned to be answerable only to the demands of rationality" (107). That's not to say the alternative to such a conception ought to be some naïve romanticism, putting emotion on a pedestal and dethroning reason. Rather, it means simply looking at developments in neuroscience and psychobiology that suggest the intricate ties between the emotional and rational aspects of decision-making and action — the extents to which reason and emotion help steer one another. Not least of which in importance is the drive to learn and to have fostered within oneself those dispositions and abilities characteristic of the 'educated' individual–to the extent these are emotionally driven. Education involves more than simply "[providing] individuals with the understanding to make their own rational judgment" (116); it also involves the emotional basis–passion or courage, even–from which to make such decisions and, further, to act on them.

Another example of exemplary analysis, but inadequate range, is when the authors employ an age-old dichotomy between progressive and traditional stances, characterized respectively as "child dictating scope and direction of his education" versus "deliberately molding and forming child by means of preconceived values and attitudes of adults" (116). Perhaps it is time we move beyond such simplistic dichotomies, for no other reason than to rid ourselves of the continuous debates that prevent us from progressing beyond these two seemingly disparate perspectives on education. (We might, perhaps, even revise our emphasis on the child alone when writing about education; all such writing implying that we learn only as children and ignoring the role education continues to have throughout our lives.) In this same vein, they offer another (I would argue, false) dichotomy in the chapter "Needs, Interests, and Experience." Borrowing from P. S. Wilson, they present a simplistic conception of 'child-centered education', according to which "a child's interest will always constitute a good reason for engaging in the activities which he sees as relevant to that interest," once again setting this perspective in direct opposition to traditional 'schooling', identified as the "imparting of adult values" (128). But why is the questioning of "adult values" portrayed as a naïvely misguided, imprudent, attempt at self-centeredness? Instead, why not expand our understanding of 'child-centered' to allow us to simply see that learning is, indeed, always about connecting to the interest of the one learning, if for no other reason than as a way of showing respect for the personal connection made by the one learning with the material being offered for learning. This is a point made by Rousseau, and one made even more poignantly by Dewey, who saw all learning experiences as inextricably woven with the subjective states of the individual undergoing the learning. Ideas are never passed along ready-made, nor are they ever assimilated in this manner. To buy into such an 'osmosis theory of learning' is to barter in a false epistemic coin, since it is up to each of us to make sense of those ideas presented to us in whatever ways we are capable at that time. How else do I personally recognize my own interest in, need and desire for learning?

The authors further imply that Dewey would oppose the notion of teachers "creating or promoting interest in experiences that do not have an immediate appeal to the child," as if it were "in some way improper for the teacher to enlarge the horizons of the child and to initiate him into experiences that he would never have come across if education were confined to an exploration of his experience" (138). This is to represent the spirit and letter of Dewey too simplistically; it is to confuse Dewey's 'exploration of experience' — complete with criteria for distinguishing between worthwhile and non-worthwhile experiences — with 'an exploration of only one's personal experience'. 'Child-centered' and 'deliberate lessons' or 'schooling' on the part of adults are not mutually exclusive unless, of course, the latter turn out to be detrimental to the purpose of education.

Their analysis is impeccable. Yes, it is true that self-expression is not a sufficient condition for creativity (153) or that not every "spontaneous writing is creative writing, and it therefore does not follow that a systematic acceptance of anything the child writes promotes creativity" (150). Such analyses are both important and timely. Likewise, their cautionary assessment of the state of affairs in educational research is well heeded. There is no doubt that "in the realm of methodological discourse, we are commonly faced with ambiguous and confused concepts and a marked absence of any attempt to get to grips directly with conceptual issues" (177). Unfortunately, the "lack of real critical (let alone, philosophical) consideration" is not endemic in educational research alone. Fostering in our current and pre-service teachers an appreciation for taking a critical stance or philosophical disposition towards their practice is a challenge for Teacher Education programs nationwide. This phenomenon is not lost on our authors, who make known a "concern with the spirit of the age, which [we] take to be anti-philosophical at a time when what it most clearly needs is more competent philosophizing" (183).

All educational practice is grounded in an educational philosophy, theoretical approach, or stance. The authors make clear that it "does not make sense to conduct research into teaching…without a clearly articulated conception of the educational enterprise" (178). And, this observation extends beyond research alone because such a demand ought to implicate anyone even remotely interested in education including, if not especially, parents. The authors bring their thesis to a head by admonishing us to reconcile the common "false dichotomy" of theory and practice, with the supplication: "How can there be selection of activities to be carried on in schools without prior thought being given to the question of what ought to be done and what ought not to be done, and why?" (187). With normative force the authors compel us to question the integrity of 'educationalists' who do not appreciate practically the bearing that philosophical scrutiny of their educational conceptions has on their practice. And, to hold suspect an inflexibility in their philosophical methodology to adapt their conceptions to actual experience. The authors ought to be commended for staying true to the course of careful thinking in such important endeavors.

 

© 2007 George Abaunza

 

George Abaunza, Ph.D., is an Assistant Professor in the Philosophy Department at Felician College in New Jersey. His areas of interest are philosophy of education and social-political philosophy. His dissertation (2005) is titled, Making Artists of Us All: The Evolution of an Educational Aesthetic.

Categories: Philosophical