CHAPTER LI INSTITUTIONS-THE PUBLIC SCHOOL UNLIKE the family, the school is not a natural formation but a CHAP. LI a Pliant thing willed. Back of it lies not instinct, but purpose. It The School was a domestic concern for thousands of years before it became Institution a social concern; but no agency has been institutionalized with less trouble. In bending the school to its will society has encountered no such strenuous resistance as captains of industry have offered to social control. Nor has the School ever gotten out of hand and made itself master of society rather than servant, as Church and State frequently have done. Shall from Fear or from Common Obedience to the rules and agencies which are set up to carry out the social will may be inspired by fear or veneration, or may Spring be founded on understanding and consent. As the process of socialization goes on, feelings are refined and men grow averse Underto preserving the social union by means of force, superstition and standing? prestige. They prefer to found it on agreement, and turn to church and school as agencies capable of creating the likemindedness out of which agreement springs. In the Middle Ages all through Christendom the Church was looked to as the chief promoter of concord and obedience and in many ways society aided and favored it. But, since the Church cherished aims and ambitions of its own, it proved to be by no means a pliant, manageable institution. Moreover, certain later developments have sadly impaired its value as a binder. Variation of doctrine has spread among the laity confusion and doubt. The splitting of believers into sects has made it impracticable to support religion with public money. The growth of unbelief has lessened the efficacy of religious dogma in producing likemindedness. Consequently we see modern society leaning less on the Church and more on the School. The builders of the noble cathedrals which are the wonder and pride of western Europe imagined that by rearing such temples to glorify God they made themselves safe against Paynim and Why Re- ligion no Serves as the Chief Binder Popular Confidence CHAP. LI pestilence, against blight and murrain. As a matter of fact, Growth of however, no such security was experienced and in the sequel it was Science not Faith that delivered men from these afflictions. in Science Nevertheless, Science had no resources for quieting the greed, jealousy and hate of men. The catastrophe which has just taken in battle the lives of seven and a half million men has demonstrated that Science is not enough. There is need of a religion of brotherhood to prepare man for the larger social life he is obliged to enter. The diffusion of such a religion, however, is not something that society may direct and stimulate. The religious spirit is altogether too fine and sensitive to be worked as a social institution. The Religion which Promotes Social Feeling Well be Institutionalized The Less Progressive Societies Still Use Religion as a Cement The More Progressive Peoples are Dis-establishing the Church lishing the School The Mohammedan world still relies on religion as the cement of society and its schools teach little else than sacred lore. In Spain and Portugal education plays but a slight rôle in comparison with religion. Until the Revolution, the Tsars of Russia relied on the Orthodox Church to orient the minds of their subjects in the desired direction. In the Russian rural scene the blue-domed church holds the place which the "little red school house" has in the American rural scene. However, the Bolsheviki have ignored the church and set up the school as the spiritual base of the future social order. The world over, the progressive peoples are pinning their hopes to Knowledge rather than to Faith. When China launched the new education a few years ago, schools were set up in temples, and under lofty pillared roofs I found little fellows in queues reand Estab- citing before the grim god of war, or Kwan-yin, goddess of mercy. In South America as a rule the colegio or university is housed in an old convent. In the United States the great universities, palatial high schools and splendid public library buildings that are rising are as characteristic of the age as the cathedrals that rose in Europe between the twelfth century and the sixteenth. In fine, the School, once semi-private, has become a public institution, while the Church, once a public institution, has become semi-private. POPULAR EDUCATION AS THE BULWARK OF DEMOCRACY As inventors transform economic society into a whole composed of specialized interdependent groups and members, popular enlightenment should grow if democracy is to be preserved. When ment Now Holds a Key Posi tion in the tion of Wealth domestic husbandry prevailed, as it largely did a century ago, if CHAP. LI the people lost their hold on the steering wheel of government, Governthey paid for it chiefly in high taxes. To-day they would pay for it not only in high taxes but, as well, in monopoly prices for many things they have to buy and in prices artfully depressed for Distribusome things they have to sell. More and more economic life has to be watched and regulated, so that where Government sits there is the head of the table. The intelligence of the American voters. of a century ago sufficed to maintain and even to extend the control of the people over their government. If the voters of to-day were no better informed, our government would soon degenerate into ring rule. Continually the plane of citizen intelligence should rise if we are not to slip again into the deep-worn rut of veiled oligarchy. As the state rises to the high tasks which economic and social development thrusts upon it, it becomes more remote, unintelligible and mysterious to the uninstructed man. In other genoe words: If Democ- racy is to the Voters Must Grow in Intelli States at Once Vast World "Civilization and common progress in the arts of life are possible only in communities which are both ordered and free; and no com- and Free Are a munity can have that quality unless there is a widespread appreciaNew Thing tion of the ends and methods of government and social life. We in the cannot work with the small scale of freedom that marked the culture cities of ancient and medieval Europe. For good or evil, we are irrevocably committed to a freedom which is, in principle, universal; and such a freedom is far more difficult to maintain than the old. It is still . . . insecure and the only warrant of its security is that men should learn the ends for which their freedom should be used." "Democratic government at least demands an educated people. For government of any sort requires authority; and authority attaches to a decision or decree only when it has some definite authentic will behind it. Plainly, it is easier to secure singleness of aim and action with few rulers than with many. Hence a democratic community is sometimes apt to be hesitating in counsel or a prey to the danger of inner dissension. Its safety in such a condition lies only Frequent in an educated community. Men may be reluctant to be persuaded of a truth; but it is the only thing of which, in the long run, they will be persuaded, or on which they will agree. Unanimity, therefore, or that measure of harmony of mind and will which makes possible effective common action, depends upon the wide diffusion of a sense of truth and of the candour which will abide by the truth. It is a product of education and nothing else." 1 1 Hetherington. "Social Purpose," p. 208. and Facile Agreement is Not to be had Save in an Educated CHAP. LI The Poli ticians Misedu cate the Naturalized Voter Grounding the Future Voter in the Funda American Democ racy TRAINING FOR CITIZENSHIP The logic of deliberately training youth for citizenship is exemplified in recent American experience. An overwhelming immigration brought into the electorate great numbers of illiterate peasants with only the most rudimentary notions of what democracy means. The low politician promptly took the naïve foreignborn voter in hand and proceeded to miseducate him politically. It was easy to persuade the simple-minded stranger that a political party is a mutual benefit association, that the Constitution should be nothing between friends, that to be independent in voting is to betray a sacred obligation, that to "scratch" your ticket is to "go back on" your friends, that it is weak-minded not to use the power of office to reward your friends and punish your enemies. These considerations created about fifteen years ago a widespread alarm as to the future of popular government in this counmentals of try and prompted an anxious survey of what might be done to cure political evils. Thence sprang the demand that the schools train for citizenship. What is called for is not the old-time, dryas-dust course in "civil government," but generous high-school instruction in civics by a trained, alert man. The aim is to ground coming citizens in the fundamentals of democracy-majority rule, free speech, the distinction between liberty and license, the importance of law enforcement, the place of party, the sacredness of the ballot, the merit system, and the responsibilities of public office. Whether civics can make a place for itself below the high school remains to be seen. It will certainly be taught to immigrants as part of an Americanization program and may find a larger place than we imagine in the adult education of the future. Breakdown of the Spontaneous Handing on of Skill THE IMPARTING OF SKILL The traditional way of perpetuating the technique and secrets of each craft has been that the craftsman transmitted them to his sons, who, as a matter of course, followed their father's calling. This no longer avails because the young are reluctant to commit themselves to an occupation merely because their father happens to be engaged in it. The spirit of modern industrialism bids one choose for himself his life work rather than inherit it. the Ap Even the apprentice system of imparting skill has broken down. CHAP. LI The skilled artisan works as employee of another rather than for Decay of himself and is not free to teach his art to whom he will. The em- prentice ployer may not deem it worth while to take apprentices into his System plant and provide them with opportunities for learning their trade. For these reasons the number who come up through apprenticeship by no means keeps pace with the demand for skilled workers. The ing Voca tional Guidance and Vocational Training The logic of the situation points to systematic provision by school is society for imparting such skill as industry needs. The trans- Undertakmission of the industrial arts, which in the past has been casual and unplanned, is likely to devolve more and more upon the school. Every day the demand for vocational education becomes stronger. It is probable that the provision which has been made here and there for the methodical handing on of such skill as society seems likely to require will become general. When each trade has been dissected and the aptitudes it calls for have been ascertained and when, furthermore, a technique has been worked out for testing. the aptitudes and limitations of the pupil, the school will be able to discover which applicants have and which have not the traits. requisite for success in a particular calling. When it can do this it will be charged with the responsibility of guiding youths into their vocations as well as imparting the skill which these vocations call for. TEACHING THE DIGNITY OF LABOR We are assuming the burden of instructing all the children of all the people. Unfortunately our notions of what ought to be taught come down from a time when schooling was for the children of the propertied and professional classes. These classes sought and obtained for their children an education fitting them for leisure-class pursuits. As the school has moved down the social ladder, each new social class admitted has been confronted with a traditional curriculum prepared especially for the social ranks above. Now even our high schools have a working-class clientele whose home environment and social heritage make them often contemptuous of the type of culture offered them. They have voracious appetites for hearty intellectual fare which will not be satisfied with tidbits of culture carefully selected and often denatured. For this reason to the sons of farmers and day la |