| Ivan Illich - Deschooling Society
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V - Irrational Consistencies[*]
I believe that the contemporary crisis
of education demands that we review the very idea of publicly
prescribed learning, rather than the methods used in its
enforcement. The dropout rate--especially of junior-high-school
students and elementary-school teachers--points to a grass-roots
demand for a completely fresh look. The "classroom
practitioner" who considers himself a liberal teacher is
increasingly attacked from all sides. The free-school movement,
confusing discipline with indoctrination, has painted him into
the role of a destructive authoritarian. The educational
technologist consistently demonstrates the teacher's inferiority
at measuring and modifying behavior. And the school
administration for which he works forces him to bow to both
Summerhill and Skinner, making it obvious that compulsory
learning cannot be a liberal enterprise. No wonder that the
desertion rate of teachers is overtaking that of their students.
America's commitment to the compulsory education of its young
now reveals itself to be as futile as the pretended American
commitment to compulsory democratization of the Vietnamese.
Conventional schools obviously cannot do it. The free-school
movement entices unconventional educators, but ultimately does so
in support of the conventional ideology of schooling. And the
promises of educational technologists, that their research and
development--if adequately funded--can offer some kind of
final solution to the resistance of youth to compulsory learning,
sound as confident and prove as fatuous as the analogous promises
made by the military technologists.
The criticism directed at the American school system by the
behaviorists and that coming from the new breed of radical educators
seem radically opposed. The behaviorists apply educational research
to the "induction of autotelic instruction through individualized
learning packages." Their style clashes with the nondirective
cooption of youth into liberated communes established under the
supervision of adults. Yet, in historical perspective, these two are
just contemporary manifestations of the seemingly contradictory yet
really complementary goals of the public school system. From the
beginning of this century, the schools have been protagonists of social
control on the one hand and free cooperation on the other, both placed
at the service of the "good society," conceived of as a highly
organized and smoothly working corporate structure. Under the impact of
intense urbanization, children became a natural resource to be molded by
the schools and fed into the industrial machine. Progressive politics
and the cult of efficiency converged in the growth of the U.S. public
school[1]. Vocational guidance and
the junior high school were two important results of this kind of thinking.
It appears, therefore, that the attempt to produce specified
behavioral changes which can be measured and for which the
processor can be held accountable is just one side of a coin,
whose other side is the pacification of the new generation within
specially engineered enclaves which will seduce them into the
dream world of their elders. These pacified in society are well
described by Dewey, who wants us to "make each one of our
schools an embryonic community life, active with types of occupations
that reflect the life of the larger society, and permeate it
with the spirit of art, history and science."
In this historical perspective, it would
be a grave mistake to interpret the current three-cornered
controversy between the school establishment, the educational
technologists and the free schools as the prelude to a revolution
in education. This controversy reflects rather a stage of an
attempt to escalate an old dream into fact, and to finally make
all valuable learning the result of professional teaching. Most
educational alternatives proposed converge toward goals which are
immanent in the production of the cooperative man whose
individual needs are met by means of his specialization in the
American system: They are oriented toward the improvement of
what--for lack of a better phrase--I call the schooled society.
Even the seemingly radical critics of the school system are not
willing to abandon the idea that they have an obligation to the
young, especially to the poor, an obligation to process them,
whether by love or by fear, into a society which needs
disciplined specialization as much from its producers as from its
consumers and also their full commitment to the ideology which
puts economic growth first.
Dissent veils the contradictions inherent in the very idea of
school. The established teachers unions, the technological
wizards, and the educational liberation movement reinforce the
commitment of the entire society to the fundamental axioms of a
schooled world, somewhat in the manner in which many peace and
protest movements reinforce the commitments of their members--be
they black, female, young, or poor--to seek justice through the
growth of the gross national income.
Some of the tenets which now go unchallenged are easy to list.
There is, first, the shared belief that behavior which has been
acquired in the sight of a pedagogue is of special value to the
pupil and of special benefit to society. This is related to the
assumption that social man is born only in adolescence, and
properly born only if he matures in the school-womb, which some
want to gentle by permissiveness, others to stuff with gadgets,
and still others to varnish with a liberal tradition. And there
is, finally, a shared view of youth which is psychologically
romantic and politically conservative. According to this view,
changes in society must be brought about by burdening the young
with the responsibility of transforming it-but only after their
eventual release from school. It is easy for a society founded on such
tenets to build up a sense of its responsibility for the
education of the new generation, and this inevitably means that
some men may set, specify, and evaluate the personal goals of
others. In a "passage from an imaginary Chinese
encyclopedia," Jorge Luis Borges tries to evoke the sense of
giddiness such an attempt must produce. He tells us that animals
are divided into the following classes: "(a) those belonging
to the emperor, (b) those that are embalmed, (c) those that are
domesticated, (d) the suckling pigs, (e) the sirens, (f) fabulous
ones, (g) the roaming dogs, (h) those included in the present
classification, (i) those that drive themselves crazy, (j)
innumerable ones, (k) those painted with a very fine brush of
camel hair, (1) et cetera, (m) those who have just broken the
jug, (n) those who resemble flies from afar." Now, such a
taxonomy does not come into being unless somebody feels it can
serve his purpose: in this case, I suppose, that somebody was a
tax collector. For him, at least, this taxonomy of beasts must
have made sense, the same way in which the taxonomy of
educational objectives makes sense to scientific authors.
In the peasant, the vision of men with such inscrutable logic,
empowered to assess his cattle, must have induced a chilling
sense of impotence. Students, for analogous reasons, tend to feel
paranoiac when they seriously submit to a curriculum. Inevitably
they are even more frightened than my imaginary Chinese peasant,
because it is their life goals rather than their life-stock which
is being branded with an inscrutable sign.
This passage of Borges is fascinating, because it evokes the
logic of irrational consistency which makes Kafka's and
Koestler's bureaucracies so sinister yet so evocative of everyday
life. Irrational consistency mesmerizes accomplices who are
engaged in mutually expedient and disciplined exploitation. It is
the logic generated by bureaucratic behavior. And it becomes the
logic of a society which demands that the managers of its
educational institutions be held publicly accountable for the
behavioral modification they produce in their clients. Students
who can be motivated to value the educational packages which
their teachers obligate them to consume are comparable to Chinese peasants
who can fit their flocks into the tax form provided by Borges.
At some time during the last two generations a commitment to
therapy triumphed in American culture, and teachers came to be
regarded as the therapists whose ministrations all men need, if
they wish to enjoy the equality and freedom with which, according
to the Constitution, they are born. Now the teacher-therapists go
on to propose lifelong educational treatment as the next step.
The style of this treatment is under discussion: Should it
take the form of continued adult classroom attendance? Electronic
ecstasy? Or periodic sensitivity sessions? All educators are
ready to conspire to push out the walls of the classroom, with
the goal of transforming the entire culture into a school.
The American controversy over the future of education, behind
its rhetoric and noise, is more conservative than the discourse
in other areas of public policy. On foreign affairs, at least, an
organized minority constantly reminds us that the United States
must renounce its role as the world's policeman. Radical
economists, and now even their less radical teachers, question
aggregate growth as a desirable goal. There are lobbies for
prevention over cure in medicine and others in favor of fluidity
over speed in transportation. Only in the field of education do
the articulate voices demanding a radical deschooling of society
remain so dispersed. There is a lack of cogent argument and of
mature leadership aiming at the disestablishment of any and all
institutions which serve the purpose of compulsory learning. For
the moment, the radical deschooling of society is still a cause
without a party. This is especially surprising in a time of
growing, though chaotic, resistance to all forms of
institutionally planned instruction on the part of those aged
twelve to seventeen.
Educational innovators still assume that educational
institutions function like funnels for the programs they package.
For my argument it is irrelevant whether these funnels take the
form of a classroom, a TV transmitter, or a "liberated
zone." It is equally irrelevant whether the packages
purveyed are rich or poor, hot or cold, hard and measurable (like
Math III), or impossible to assess (like sensitivity). What counts is that
education is assumed to be the result of an institutional process
managed by the educator. As long as the relations continue to be
those between a supplier and a consumer, educational research
will remain a circular process. It will amass scientific evidence
in support of the need for more educational packages and for
their more deadly accurate delivery to the individual customer,
just as a certain brand of social science can prove the need for
the delivery of more military treatment.
An educational revolution depends on a twofold inversion: a
new orientation for research and a new understanding of the
educational style of an emerging counterculture.
Operational research now seeks to optimize the efficiency of
an inherited framework--a framework which is itself never
questioned. This framework has the syntactic structure of a
funnel for teaching packages. The syntactic alternative to it is
an educational network or web for the autonomous assembly of
resources under the personal control of each learner. This
alternative structure of an educational institution now lies
within the conceptual blind spot of our operational research. If
research were to focus on it, this would constitute a true
scientific revolution.
The blind spot of educational research reflects the cultural
bias of a society in which technological growth has been confused
with technocratic control. For the technocrat the value of an
environment increases as more contacts between each man and his
milieu can be programmed. In this world the choices which are
manageable for the observer or planner converge with the choices
possible for the observed so-called beneficiary. Freedom is
reduced to a selection among packaged commodities.
The emerging counterculture reaffirms the values of semantic
content above the efficiency of increased and more rigid syntax.
It values the wealth of connotation above the power of syntax to
produce wealth. It values the unpredictable outcome of
self-chosen personal encounter above the certified quality of
professional instruction. This reorientation toward personal
surprise rather than institutionally engineered values will be
disruptive of the established order until we dissociate the
increasing availability of technological tools which facilitate encounter from
the increasing control of the technocrat of what happens when
people meet.
Our present educational institutions are at the service of the
teacher's goals. The relational structures we need are those
which will enable each man to define himself by learning and by
contributing to the learning of others.
[*] This chapter was presented
originally at a meeting of the American Educational Research
Association, in New York City, February 6, 1971.
[1] See Joel Spring, Education and the
Rise of the Corporate State, Cuaderno No. 50. Centro Intercultural
de Documentación, Cuernavaca, Mexico, 1971.
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