dewey on education — appraisals

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I think Mr. Newsome has an answer to this. It is, "One may well question whether an anthropological view of values and social disorganization and a comprehensive view of educational activity in a social context is genuinely philosophical." Well, are they? Or can they be made so?

If the answer is no, and evidently that is Newsome's answer, then we may as well complete our abdication, retire into the inmost reaches of the ivory tower, and devote all our time to writing glosses for each other on Ryle, .Hare, and Wittgenstein.

Perhaps the real work in what used to be thought of as philosophy of education will be done, as some of it is beginning to be done, by social scientists and even by psychiatrists. Mean- time, I suppose educational policy will continue to be made by "educational administrators, statesmen, school boards, corporation executives, and the like." They will make it on the basis of "customs ,of the teaching service, on grounds of expediency, requirements (rules, regulations, directives), or in terms of psychological or sociological research." Perhaps there is some hope in the last phrase. Certainly, if Newsome is right, there is no point in looking to philosophers, for they have no stomach for this sweaty business.

P A U L A R T H U R S C H I L P P

N o r t h w e s t e r n U n i v e r s i t y (emer i t us ) and

Sou the rn I l l ino is U n i v e r s i t y , on

D E W E Y O N E D U C A T I O N -

A P P R A I S A L S

E d i t e d w i t k an I n t r o d u c t i o n

R E G I N A L D D . A R C H A M B A U L T

Random House, New York , 1966

by

Dr. Archambault has put anyone interested in contemporary American education in his debt with the publication of this very useful new paperback. Although it really is not "Dewey on Edueatien," but only '~appraisals of Dewey on Education," it certainly would be difficult, ff not, indeed, impossible, to bring together thirteen essays appraising Dewey's philosophy of edu-

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cation which could top the ones brought together and reproduced here.

As a matter of fact, today's educators (whether those actually engaged in teaching or those preparing to teach at whatever educational level) would be well advised to read most (if not, indeed, all) of these thirteen essays, if they want to find out not only" (1) what Dewey's educational philosophy actually 173 was, but also (2) how it may have undergone a change in the course .of his long life and thought, as well as (8) wherein it actually did lay itself open t o - both possible and a c t u a l - mis- understanding, and (4) wherein, with even the best of understanding, it may still be subject to at least some (even negative) criticism and to eorreetion and improvement. For, each of these points is made by one ,or more of the essayists who here discuss Dewey's educational ideas.

The late Professor William Heard Kilpatriek's "Personal Reminiscences of Dewey" constitute a natm'al introduction.

Both, Messrs. Cremin and Handlin, tell us not merely how Dewey and '~Progressive Education . . . . got this way," but also undertake to answer Dewey's attackers in no uncertain fashion. Until Dewey came along, we are given to understand, American education had, more ,or less, grown up "like Topsy," certainly with not too much of rhyme or reason. Subject-matter-centered education was the rule, which was crammed more or less force- fully into pupils and students crania; the kind of education against which even an Albert Einstein rebelled in Switzerland, where, by his .own .confession, this sort of thing was not nearly so bad as elsewhere.

I think Einstein's own description of that sort of education - as well as his reaction to it - might do more than all the learned dissertations of edueators on the subject. He wrote: I n th i s field [of physics] , however , I soon learned to scent ou t w h a t was able to lead ,to f u n d a m e n t a l s a n d to t u rn aside f rom every th ing else, f rom t h e m u l t i t u d e of th ings which c lu t ter u p the m i n d a n d r it f rom the essential . T h e h i t ch in th i s was, of course, the fact t ha t one h a d to c ram .all th is s tu f f i n to one ' s m i n d for t he examina t ions , w h e t h e r one l i k e d it or not . T.his coercion h a d such a de te r r ing effect that , af ter I had passed the f inal examina t ion , I , found t h e considerat ion of any s d e m i f i i c p rob lems dis tas teful to m e for an ent i re year. I n just ice I m u s t add, moreover , t ha t in Switzerland we h a d to suffer 'far less u n d e r such coercio1~, which smo the r s every t ru ly scientific impulse , ' than is :the case in m a n y ano the r locality. T h e r e were a l toge the r only two examina t ions ; aside f rom these, one could jus t a b o u t do as one pleased. T h i s ~ a s especially the case if one

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had .a friend, as I .did, who a t tended the lectures regularly and who worked over ,their conten t conscientiously. This gave one f reedom in the choice of pursui ts unt i l a few mon ths before t he examinat ion, a f reedom which I enjoyed to a great extent and have gladly .taken in.to the bargain the bad conscience connected wi th 'it .as b.y far ~he lesser evil. It is, in .fact, nothing short of a miracle that the modern methods iof instruction have not yet entirely strangled the holy curiosity of inquiry; for this delica.te l i t t le plant , aside .from st imulat ion, s tands mainly in need of freedom; vci.thout this i t goes to wreck a n d ru in wi thout fail. It is a very grave mistake to think that the enjoyment of seeing and searching can be promoted by means of coercion and a sense of duty. 1

Thus spake (not Zarathustra, but) the great Einstein in the only autobiographical sketch he ever penned during his life. Like Dewey, Einstein not only rebelled against such enforced cram- ming of subject-matter, but recognized it as the very deathknell to true learning. The attackers of Dewey unfortunately do not yet seem to have learned this simple fact and psychological truth.

Of course it is true that there are educational "essentials." And, quite frankly, I cannot imagine how Dewey himself could ever have questioned this. After all, he wrote books and articles, which presumes, I suppose, that he expected others to read them - a n d , if these others had not mastered the art of reading (one of the "three R's"!), how ,could they read Dewey's writings? This kind of attack on D e w e y - or on "Progressive Education," for that m a t t e r - is really too ridiculous to deserve even a reply.

Nor does the criticism that, in his attention on the growth of the individual, Dewey negleeted the cultural milieu fare much better. After all, in his very first article of faith - in his "My Pedagogic Creed" of 1897 - Dewey contradicts this contention of his attackers that he overlooked society's social inheritance, when he wrote: "All education proceeds by the participation of the individual in the social consciousness of the race.'" He repeats this point moreover, in his seeond article, where we read: ".. . the school is simply that form of Community life in which all those agencies are coneentrated that will ,be most effective in bringing the child to share in the inherited resources of the race." (My italics. )

It is perfectly correct to say, as Oscard Handlin does, that Dewey's appearance on the horizon of Ameriean education was a real and important "challenge to American education." which had become stereotyped and largely sterile. Too many teachers

1 Einstein, Albert, "Autobiographical Notes," in Paul A. Schilpp (ed.), ALBERT EINSTEIN: PHILOSOPHER-SCIENTIST (ka Salle, IJl.: Open Court, 1949), p. 17, my italics.

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- -a t all levels of the formal educational s y s t e m - had become so enamored with their subject-matter that, in the process of actual teaching, the edueand (child, pupil, student) tended to be lost sight of. Dewey's insistence that teachers are in the first place, teachers of pupils (rather than of subjects) can, in my humble judgment, never be overemphasized. Others like Froebel and Pestalozzi, may have preceded him in this emphasis; but here in the United States Dewey was first in this :and, more importantly, he was able here radically to change public education and make the principle stick. In fact, in spite of its detractors, it still largely sticks: at least in all those teachers who realize that the person, the pupil, is more important than subject-matter.

But again it is nonsense, of course, to claim that Dewey (and Progressive Educators), because of their emphasis on the pupil, had "nothing to teach." A recognition and establishment of priorities is by no means the same thing as denying the right- ful place of those things which may not be given first place. After all, most people have sense enough to realize that the presence of a first violin-section in an orchestra does not by any matter ,of means eliminate all the other orchestral instruments and sections! Just so, to insist that the first object in teaching is the pupil in no. wise mitigates against the use of subject-matter as the instrumentali ty- though never as the ultimate object or ob jec t ive - of teaching. As a matter of actual historical fact, with the possible exception .of mathematics, there is scarcely an area of subject-matter which Dewey did not teach at one time or ar~other and dealt with in one treatise or another. But, it is true: he never lost sight of the object, the learner. In the iudg- ment of the present writer, this Froebel-Pestalozzi-Dewey shift from su'bject-eenteredness to pupil-eenteredness is the single greatest revolution in education in a thousand years. Yet let me admit at once: even today it still has not yet had much of an effect on the teaching in colleges and universities. The reason is easy enough to see. Most university-professors are so much in love with their particular subject that many of them actually" look upon their students as necessary evils; something they have to put up with in order to draw their check at the end of the month.

As for Progressive Education, the trouble is, of course, that the term "Progressive Education" means many different things to many different people. Anything one may say about it suffers, therefore, from the ambiguity involved by the absence of any either clear-cut or universally accepted meaning of the term.

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No one, who believes in human progress can in seriousness object to progressive education. If humanity is to make progress, education too must, obviously, be progressive.

It is true that, all his l i f e - yes, even to his death in 1952- Dewey not merely believed in, but did all in his power to advance human progress. Nor is it the ease that the meaning of "progress," for Dewey, was obscure. On the part of the individual it means the highest possible development of his intellectual- moral-aesthetic-artistic.spiritual capacities. And, on the part of society, it means the increasing development of mutually helpful and co-operative societies, in which an attitude of good will and co-operation would increasingly supplant that of competition, until peace on earth, instead of mutual mass-murder, would become the social order of the day. For him the task of formal education was to work towards t h o s e - certainly progressive- ends by all reasonable and intelligent means.

Professor Cremin is quite right, of course, when he answers some of the Dewey-critics by saying that Dewey's "notion of adjustment was an adjustment of conditions, not to them, a remaking of existing conditions, not a mere remaking of self and individual to fit into them.'" He is right, too, in calling our attention to the fact that Dewey's concern was not the building of the perfect society- or, even of "The Great Soc ie ty" -bu t of a better society. (p. 28)

Professor Handlin certainly hit the nail on the head with his observation that Dewey's "ideas were persuasive beeause they revealed the evident weaknesses of the schools as they were." (p. 28) And, when one hears so much criticism of Dewey's supposedly one-sided emphasis on educational method, it is helpful to have Mr. Handlin point out that "Dewey always insisted that method ,could not be divorced from eontent." (p. 88)

When Professor Phenix points out that "one of the crucial problems in education today is student motivation," (p. 44) my only quarrel with him is that this has always been a erueial problem and always will be so long as there is any kind of formal education. If there is no real hunger for learning, the best teacher in the world and the use of the best educational methods will be largely ~or naught. True, such hunger needs be and can be aroused. But, if it is not, all else will be largely fruitless.

But, ff Mr. Phenix's essay were being written today (instead of in 1959), I doubt that he would still complain of "the apparent trend of students toward conformity," or that students

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still are "submissive, conventional, and unquestioning." I would say that "healthy rebellion and scepticism" are found perhaps even more today than in "earlier generations of college students." (p. 45)

The tendency to blame Dewey's philosophical naturalism for the ambivalence of his conception of democracy (apparently shared by Mr. Lflge) is another criticism which I cannot share. I can see nothing basically wrong with his "conception of a democratic education as an exercise in practical intelligence and cooperative action." (p. 55) And, when Professor Lilge acknowl- edges that "shared experience and communication were for Dewey not only means but ends, not only instrumental but also intrinsic goods," (p. 60) he is really answering one of the most insistent (even though false) criticisms of Dewey.

But I certainly cannot go along with Mr. Lilge, when (p. 64) he writes that Dewey and his educational disciples "bequeathed to American institutions of professional education a vague, muddle-headed idealism." Mr. Lilge complains of what he calls "the missionary zeal" of some of the teachers imbued by that spirit of "vague, muddle-headed idealism." I am not today (and never have been) a philosophical "idealist"; and I at least hope that I am nat too "muddle-headed." But, quite frankly, I could wish for quite a bit more of "missionary" zeal" on the part of Amer ican- or, for that matter, any other count ry ' s - teachers. It has never occurred to me before that zeal and enthusiasm on the part of the teacher were bad traits.

Nor can I agree that "Dewey's .diagnosis of cultural crisis has lost its relevance." (p. 65) It is true, of course, that Dewey really did not live long enough to get a real look into our Space Age. But he did live to see the nuclear age ushered in. And I for o n e - while not merely admitting but insisting that an age of such rapid and radical ,changes as ours, so rapid, in fact, that the person is not alive who can keep up with t h e m - would have to say that mos t of Dewey's diagnosis of cultural crisis, so far from having lost its relevance, actually is as pertinent and meaningful today as the day it was written. Additional diagnosis may very well be called for; but Dewey's own diagnosis is far from pass6. (I wish there were space here to demonstrate this claim. )

True enough, Dewey w a s an optimist. But, contrary to some of these writers, he was no utopian. After all, he lived through the Russian Revolution, Mussolini's fascist debacle and Hitler's "1000-year Empire" a n d - extermination camps! No sane

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p e r s o n - and Dewey was nothing if not sane - c o u l d live through such experiences and be a utopian. Like the Nazarene, Dewey had faith in man, because he saw practically limitless possibilities in man's native intellectual, moral, and spiritual capacities. He had faith in the method of scientific intelligence. And because of these two faiths, he had faith in the cooperative enterprise and in the democratic process.

I, frankly, share all three of these faiths, the all too often revealed depths of human depravity not withstanding. I almost feel like saying: just because of the actuality of such depravity. For, only a being capable of falling "lower than the beasts of prey" (Thomas Jefferson) has it in him t~ rise to the heights of personal achievement and social well-being which Dewey envi- sioned.

If, indeed, it could be shown (in chapter and verse) that Dewey "could not conceive of the possibility that democratic society, too, could be deluded," (which I doubt), then I would have to agree with Mr. Lilge's .criticism :of Dewey at this point. The years 1965 and 1966 have been excellent years to demonstrate not only that, but how very far even "democratic society can be deluded." We, certainly, would claim that ours is a "democratic society." And in Vietnam we certainly have been not merely tragically but one almost feels like saying criminally deluded. But then, democracy after all is more a goal t h a n - as yet at any r a t e - an achievement. And it is to the goal that Dewey was committed.

Although I cannot agree (with Lilge) that "the socialization of the individual . . , was the over-al/ aim of education" for John Dewey, I certainly agree with him that "education should help individuals find their own vital center." But I should think that Dewey would have agreed with this, provided that the individual's "vital center" is not seen ,or found in individual isolation. After all, there really are no such beings as individuals; all of us are socio-individuals any way you look at us. This being the case the "vital center" of any (so-called) individual must already include the social, as Dewey was quite eo~eetly aware.

There have been few more acute and incisive thinkers in the U.S. in this century than Alexander Meiklejohn. I have practically unbounded respect both for the man and for his profound insights. But even a great genius must be allowed his foible, his Achilles-heel. In Meiklejohn's case this was John Dewey. I find it almost impossible to believe my eyes when I read: "The most striking defect in Dewey's "general theory of

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education' is its disparagement of intelligence." Here I always thought that Dewey was, if anyone at all, the twentieth century's prophet of intelligence! Either Meiklejohn or I must be wrong. The decision falls by virtue of Dewey's own philosophy .of instrumentalism, in and for which (scientific) intelligence is ~he method par excellence of worthy human behavior. Here is what Meiklejohn says:

Every teacher knows, as Dewey assures us, that knowledge must be used for ,the creating of intelligence. No one denies that. But the question for which we need an answer is "By what process of thinking is knowledge transformed into wisdom?" What is that activity of philosophy or criticism or intelligence which the teacher must attempt to set up in .the mind of the pupil? Dewey gives us two conflicting views of that activity. And the di.fference between .those views is decisive ~or any theory of education. Is in'telligence a procedure for ~ationalizi~ag our passions? Or is it a procedure by which practical beliefs .are tested by objective intellectual criticism? Dewey says both of these. And the result of ttl:at ambiguity is .that, in .the social sciences, in the schools and colleges, which have been influenced by Dewey's leadership, the notion of intelligence is a vague and ineffectual one. No one, in his generation, has pressed more strongly than Dewey the claims of critical thinking. But it is equally true .that no .one has done more to involve .those claims in uncertainty and confusion. (p. 95; my italics.)

Although it is ,certainly true that Dewey tried to bridge the usual dualistic gap between intelligence and emotion, I can find no evidence for Meiklejohn's claim here that Dewey ever said that intelligence is "a procedure for rationalizing [in the James Harvey Robinson sense ,of this word] our passions." I admit that Meildejohn does not claim to be quoting Dewey here, but he accuses him ,of implying just that. He says: "Dewey says both of these." I .challenge this charge.

When it comes to tl~e assertion that intelligence is "a procedure by which practical beliefs are tested by objective intellectual c r iSc i sm," -which Meiklejohn writes Dewey says .also - , I feel quite certain that Dewey would have objected to the word "objective" in this sentence. Perhaps "relatively objective," yes; but just plain "objective," no. For, in the very nature o~ the case, there can be no such thing. Every assertion, claim, etc. is being made by some subject or other (even the most widely accepted scientitle statements :are subject to this fact). Conse- quently the subject(lye) can never, at any time, be completely eliminated: it is always present. Consequently, no totally "objective criticism" is ever possible.

Dewey, Meikleiohn says, is ambiguous in these t w o - t o

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Meiklejohn conflicting- interpretations of "intelligence." But I must confess that I see no necessary contradiction in these two uses of the word. If intelligence is to be effective, it will have to be undergirded and pushed by emotional drives, motivation, if you will; otherwise it is not likely to lead to action, conduct. But I cannot see why such admission needs to contradict the use of intelligence as the "testing of practical beliefs by intellectual criticism." In spite of Mr. Meiklejohn, Dewey can have it both ways, and can .have it without leading to "uncertainty and confusion." In any case I certainly applaud Meiklejohn's next to last (by me italicized) sentence: "No one, in his generation, has pressed more strongly than Dewey the claims of critical thinking." Precisely!

With Professor Schemer's analysis, which leads to his con- clusion that Dewey's insistence that (intellectual and scientific) theory must .directly lead to aetion, that this is too narrow a concept of theory, I concur. Mr. Scheffer is quite right when he writes that "a capacity for purely theoretical curiosity and dis- passionate vision" is practically a sine qua non in modern scientific endeavor. Students who miss this would "miss something of high importance if they learn it solely for the sake o f . . . practical value." (p. 106)

It may be true also, as Mr. Seheffer suggests, that reducing all reflective thinking to the problem-solving model may be too narrow a view of reflection on Dewey's part. I would not neces- sarily disagree with Mr. Seheffer's strictures on this point. But I do want to emphasize what a tremendous insight Dewey's concept of reflective thinking as problem-solving actually is. No perceptive teacher can deny that, ff she can make her pupils recognize that here is a real difficulty, a problem, which calls for solution, she will have stirred their interest, and in te res t - as Dewey also saw so c l ea r ly - is paramount in real learning (that is to say, in learning which is not merely ephemeral).

Mr. H ardie is, of course, quite right in criticizing Kilpat- rick's "four rules." (see pp. l18ff.) But I question his right to attribute these to John Dewey or to criticize Dewey as if the latter had ever uttered such nonsense. And, although it may be true that for the mastery of certain subjects drill may .'be neees- salT, I just ask the reader to remember Einstein's own reaction to such educational drilling!

For me Hardie's most important contribution was his statement that "interests and desires can be acquired as well as knowledge . . . . '" (p. 121) Of course they can. And it is, obviously,

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one of the major functions of a good teacher so to teach that net only knowledge is acquired but that interest in and desire for knowledge is aroused. But this changes nothing on the Deweyan claim that, without interest, little is really ever learned.

Mr. Hardie's distinction between the "desirable" as that which actually is desired on the one hand and what should be desired also is valuable. (p. 122s But I question his claim that 181 "it may well be that an autocratic school is necessary to establish a democratic world." (p. 124) I do not believe in such a complete dichotomizing of ends and m e a n s - and neither did Dewey.

Despite Dewey's everlasting insistence on social intelligence and on the importance of the democratic process, Professor Hook is, of course, quite correct when he writes: "Any honest reading of Dewey indicates that individuals come first in the order of concern . . . . " (p. 144) " . . . in the order of significance, not of time." (p. 146) And Mr. Hook admirably answers another ever recurring (though false) criticism of Dewey when he exclaims: "By all means, education must aim at excellence! But is there only one kind of excellence? Must one excellence be sacrificed to another?" (p. 146) Bravo!

Of course, "there are some things everyone needs to know, but not everything needs to be known by everybody!" (p. 147) Otherwise the Dewey critics would have to know Dewey, and this would, obviously, be unfair. "For Dewey, the ultimate authority in liberal civilization is the authority of "scientific method, broadly interpreted as the method of intelligence." (p. 155)

Mr. Hook is probably right also when he says that "In a sense, Dewey's philosophy promises too much," it is too di~cult an art for the average teacher, and it would "cost much more than most communities at present are willing to p a y . . , it pre- supposes a humanist and scientific society . . . . " (p. 15"7)

Is it the case, as Professor Archambault suggests, that "the role of the teacher as interpreted by Dewey is strangely para- doxical"? (p. 173) Is it the case that, because sometimes the teacher's function should be that of a "neutral catalyst," he may not also be "directing the learning process"? I see no paradox.

On the next page (p. 174) Mr. Archambault comes to the real hub o~ the problem, when he says that "the real underlying issue" is "the standard for judgment." As a matter of fact, all of the last six pages of Mr. Archambault's paper deal with this problem of an "ultimate standard." He traces an important shift in Dewey's thinking on this problem in b_is later years and writes


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that "Dewey, in his later writings, seems aware of the need for such a standard ["outside the limited context of naturalistic factors involved in choice"] to serve as a directing force for the educative process." (p. 179) That more is needed, for educational guidance, "than mere desire in an immediate situation" (p. 178) really should go without saying. But from this it does not neces- sarily follow that such a standard must be found "outside of naturalistic factors." In fact, I do not believe that Mr. Archam- bault can point to a single statement in Dewey's writings where Dewey himself would admit either the need for or the desirability of a standard "outside of naturalistic factors." Dewey, "in his later years," doubtlessly saw the need for a foundation of moral j u d g m e n t - and, perhaps, even of human "growth , " -which had a greater claim on us that either the desire of the moment or societal and cultural approval. But, actually such a foundation loy close at hand all the while. Although I think Dewey was subconsciously aware of it, I cannot find that he ever explicitly stated it. It is to be found m the unique capacities of human nature and, as such, obviously, is not "outside of naturalistic factors," but very much a part of human nature. Man's capacities for (a) abstract rational reflection, (b) moral judgments and choices, and (c) (what I choose to call) spiritual self-tran- scendence - capacities, all of these found present (as capacities) in every relatively normal human b e i n g - these are all the foundation for a valid and lastingly human standard that anyone needs. For, their development, enhancement and use make for human progress; whereas their deterioration, collapse, or disap- pearance make for a sinking down to the level of other beasts. Such a foundation in actual universal human nature answers the -pe r fec t ly l eg i t imate -demand for a (humanly) permanent (though by no means absolutistie) standard, and does so within the confines of a naturalistic philosophy, such as Dewey's.

But-- : the search for external standards or absolute criteria is a futile search! Finite, limited .and relative man can no more be in possession of absolute standards than he can have infinite knowledge. All his knowledge sl~ares his finite and relative limitations. And so do any standards or criteria he may find, create or devise. As Dewey has rightly shown, man's Quest, for Certainty is a futile q u e s t - even though the desire for it may be natural enough. But man needs occasionally be reminded that he, after all, is not God; 'and his "playing God" cannot really get him beyond or out of his finite limitations. He will have to remain satisfied with his relative understanding and insights.

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In the opening paragraphs of his short piece Professor Berger has very succinctly given the reasons for Dewey's contro- versial position in American education today: (1) the obscurity of some of Dewey's writings; (2) the way in which some of Dewey's disciples went way beyond (or even contrary) to anything Dewey ever taught or thought; and ( 3 ) - and perhaps most impor tan t ly- many of Dewey's detractors never bothered to read, much less carefully examine, what he had to say. Like other writers in the book, Berger points out that Dewey himself was severely critical of some of the basic assumptions of Pro- gressive Education and that he insisted that '%oth the child and the curriculum are important." (p. 187)

As Hook also did, Berger asserts that "Dewey's educational program is a fantastically difficult one to real ize-cer ta inly it cannot .come about in one or even two generations." Exactly! Perhaps it will never be realized, precisely because it demands so much more of teachers than most teachers will ever be able or willing to. give. If this be a criticism .of Dewey, so be it. I consider it a compliment.

In one sentence Professor Berger states what he calls "the sonl .of Dewey's entire philosophy: a system of education that best recognizes the dignity and worth of all individuals, that allows every individual to develop to. his fullest, and that teaches the virtues of democracy ,by establishing a democratic atmos- phere." What, if anyone pleases, is wrong with this.? Sure, "Dewey needs to be corrected and modified" and brought up to date: today, tomorrow, next year and next century. But education can neither forget nor bypass him. He has not merely left his indelible imprint on American education, but his i n f luence - despite all his present de t rac tors - is bound to grow. He will be taken more seriously a century from now than he is t o d a y - if, indeed, we shall ever catch up with him at all.

In Mr. Lynd's case I wish to begin by answering the rhetoric of his title, "Who Wants Progressive E d u c a t i o n ? " - I do! IF his attack on Progressive Education is the best which the detractors of Progressive Education can do, Progressive Edu- cation has little to fear. For the logic of his position, based, by the way, on the indubitable major premiss that the schools belong to the people, would seem to lead to the employment of teachers on the basis of a popularity .contest. He writes: . . . how many ~communities, if consulted, would be likely ~to approve of a phi losophy which is plainly uncongenial to certai~ loyalties which most plain nonphilosophizing people hold, for better or ~-orse, ,to be important:

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belief in supernaturalism, in a transcendent natural law, in the immutability of certain moral principles? [and then continues:] If we must have one dominant philosophical influence upon the reform of oar schools, who voted for Dewey? [Unfortunately a lot of people c[id, but it was Tom, ,not John!] Dewey's educational philosophy, 'he writes, is fantastically out of proportion to popular agreement with its basic principles. (p. 193)

Now IF Dewey's basic educational principles are: (1) that the teacher's task is to teach children rather than subjects (although by means of subjectmatter), that the object of education is the edueand and not inert knowledge; "putting a child in the midst"; (2) that learning (real learning) takes place only to the degree that interest has been aroused and is present, i.e., that, of course, you can temporarily drum something into the learner's cranium, but, unless he is really interested in what he is sup- posed to have learned, ,he has not really "learned" it; he will forget it as fast as you drive it in, and that is not learning, and therefore not education; (8) that learning ultimately is for the sake of living, and not vice versa, i.e., that learning should, even more importantly, help us to make a life and not merely a living; and (4) that, in a democracy, education must aim to help children learn to live co-operatively together rather than to learn to get ahead by climbing over the backs of our f e l l o w m a n - I say, if these are some of Dewey's major basic educational principles and if these principles should be "fantastically out of proportion to popular agreement," then it is: just too bad for the ignorance, not to say "stupidity," of popular agreement.

Shall we turn education over to the ignorant, to people who know neither the meaning nor the significance of the human personality, nor have 'any idea of the values of democracy?

Mr. Lynd has the nerve to speak of the people's belief in "the immutability of certain moral principles." I wonder. Is the command "Thou shalt not kill" an immutable moral principle? Or is it so relative (rather than "immutable") that, at least in "the people's beliefs," it only applies retail, but not wholesale? The murder of eight young student-nurses in Chicago in July, 1966, violates that moral principle, but the killing of thousands of Vietnamese and American soldiers does not violate that moral principle! Does this sound like belief in immutable, moral principles? If the s t a t e - even the democratic s t a t e -dec rees wholesale murders, this, apparently, does not count.

Shall the teacher, then, be called upon to teach as "immutable" what only a handful in the country actually have the courage to. believe in and practice?

P a u | A r C h u r S c h i l p p

For all I know, there may be "quackery in the public schools" somewhere or other; in fact, it would be strange, if there were not, inasmuch as quackery can be .found in practically any human endeavor; it can, apparently, even be found in the book which bears that title.

I must say that I was more than merely taken by surprise by Professor Bruner's assertion .that "John Dewey .overlooked the 185 special function of education as an opener of new perspectives." (p. 127) I found this a shocking charge. My own reading of Dewey on education would never have led me to such a eon- elusi.on. Rather contrariwise I have thought that Dewey was everlastingly urging education as an opener of new perspectives; for it was precisely change and novelty which he seems to me to have constantly been concerned with 'and interested in. In fact, how could anyone who thought of Logic as the Theory o~ Inquiry think of education as anything less than as an opener of new perspectives?

"Disciplined i n q u i r y " - i s "the very process at the heart of education." (p. 228) Bravo! But this: is no argument against or even a going beyond Dewey. Dewey himself was no dflettant nor can I find anything in his works which would justify the claim that he did not advocate "disciplined inquiry."

To accuse Dewey of anti-intdlectualism, I must confess, I not merely find astounding; I think the charge is ludicrous, when one a.ctually reads his wrtings. True, Dewey rejected an empty and largely useless rationalism, b e c a u s e - in terms of his epistemology, psychology and social ph i losophy- he was con- vinced that playing mere logical games in and with reason (so- called) was neither personally meaningful nor socially significant. But to admit this does not justify a careful critic to accuse Dewey of irrationalism. One may be negatively critical of a sterile rationalism and still have a profound interest in and respect for the workings of the human intellect. And Dewey's works are simply full of such interest and respect. In fact, Dewey's particular brand of pragmatism is called "instrumentalism" precisely because of Dewey's emphasis on intelligence as the instrumentality of knowledge-getting and problem-solving.

In the final chapter, entitled, "After John Dewey, What?" - t o which, I must confess, I turned with great expectation, hoping very much to find a new program for American educa- t i on - Professor Bruner begins with a citation of Dewey's (so-called) "Five articles of (educational) faith" of 1897, and ends, on the last page (p. 226) with his own parallels to Dewey's "Credo."


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I typed both sets of "articles" out and put them on the same sheet :of paper, each of Dewey's "articles" facing respec- tively Professor Bruner's identically numbered "article." After a thus close examination .of the two sets of articles, I reached the following conclusions:

(1) The major difference between the two sets lay in the different choSee of language: Dewey's language was that of 1897 and Bruner's that of 1961. In terms of content of ideas, there seemed to be preciously little difference.

(2) What differences could be f o u n d - if a n y - were all of a nature which seemed to me (at any rate) to fit perfectly into Dewey's philosophy and methodology of education. So much so, in fact, that I feel quite confident that, if Dewey had been alive in 1961, he would have approved of Mr. Bruner's formula- tions.

(8) In Bruner's next to last sentence (after his own five articles of faith) he throws in the word "excellence" in the phrase: "cultivating and giving expression to the forms of excel- levee." This sounds as ff he is throwing a sop to. the educational Esserdi,alists. But it seems to me that even this sop is only apparent. For a fuller reading reveals that "forms of excellence" are those "that emerge in our varied society." And, certainly, "forms of excellence which emerge" are scarcely static, time- honored, traditional ,and still less universal or eternal values. As emerging "in our varied society" they are in the nature of the case forever changing just as society i t se l f - and, indeed, the un iverse - is forever changing!

And this is good Deweyism. On the strength of this concluding chapter, I fear I had

to conclude: After D e w e y - more of the same! And, indeed, why not? There is nothing static, eternal, unchangeable in Dewey's

philosophy of education. Even fourteen years .after his passing, I still feel confident

that Dewey would have approved of any educational method or process which accomplished the end of developing, growing, maturing personalities and a human society of mutual cooperation. He merely tried to suggest some of the. methods w h i c h - to his mind and in his d a y - seemed to him useful in leading to those ends.

True, certain principles seemed obvious to John Dewey (as, indeed, they seem to this writer):

(1) That the teacher's primary obligation is to teach

J o n a s F. S o l t ~ s

pupils rather than subjec ts - subjects always being not merely the legitimate but the necessary means, 'but never the end: the end always being the edu.cand ( the person acquiring an education).

(9.) That all real learning ultimately cannot help but be determined by the pupil's own interest in whatever subject (never by forced spoon-feeding: remember Einstein's confession at this point!).

(8) That all education has to do with l ife-adjustment- especially in an age which abounds with mental eases and suicides!

(4) That the schools must bring out and develop what is b e s t - intellectually, emotionally, socially, morally, aesthetically, even "religiously"- in the capacity of the individual (pupil). And, of course, they must serve society. But this latter is an inevitable eorrolary of the former, inasmuch as there is no such thing as an isolated individual. And no school really ultimately serves human society which isolates human beings from each other, whether sexually, economically, racially, nationally or in any other way. John Dewey is the real philosopher of the civil rights movement, as indeed, of the one-world humanity; and this symposium demonstrates it.

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J O N A S F. $ O L T I S

Teachers Col lege, Columbia Univers i ty , on

E D U C A T I O N AS I N I T I A T I O N

b y R . $ . P E T E R S

Evans Brothers Limited, London, 1964

In the words of the editor who sent me my eopy of Edu- cation as Initiation, tL S. Peters has produced a "delightful little book." Things which warm the heart, however, may not ignite the mind. But in this, his inaugural lecture as holder of the Ghair of Philosophy of Education at the University of London, Pro- fessor Peters has managed to do both. There is much to recom- mend its reading besides its warmth, style, and wit. It stands as example of humane concern coupled with analytic technique

dewey on education — appraisals

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