I'm going huckleberrying with Gwen and her kids Wednesday. It'll be a
rush since I have to get back for a medical appointment, which have
been keeping me too busy to go out on fires either. Just as well. I'm
trying to get time to think.
I'd actually read the Miele piece--it got reprinted on some national
website, which happens with a fair amount of his stuff. It was good
though entirely too optimistic. Things are much darker than he suggests.
The Bakken piece may have been too optimistic too. We can't use oil any
more. Even domestic oil causes a carbon footprint. We just need to sit
in the dark and be thankful we were rescued from advanced capitalism.
I'm wondering if I should be stockpiling meds, since I have a feeling
old diabetics with bad attitudes will be at the top of the cost-saving
list in Obamacare.
Miele is interesting, because the problem he's sensing is a natural
consequence of modernism--the Enlightenment Project--and the writers
he's citing as the old classics are mostly writers who contributed to
the problem he's sensing. At least he's beginning to sense that things
have gone off the rails, but he's not yet seeing what happened or where
to look for a way forward.
The two writers who've done the best work at laying out the problem
are, I think, Alasdair MacIntyre and
Michael Polanyi.
(If you follow that link you'll see that, although it has a good
introduction to Polanyi, it starts talking about a new book that I
think you would like:
Shop Class as Soul Craft, which is
getting a lot of buzz among educators by arguing that we've badly
underestimated the value of work other than school work)
Neither wrote novels and neither is especially easy to read, but both
argued in their different ways that there was a profound mistake at the
heart of the Enlightenment, having to do with trusting only knowledge
that could be rationally demonstrated. This led to an unwarranted split
between "fact" and "value" with value losing out. This led to a turning
away from religion and tradition, even though, both argue, rational
inquiry is only possible within a tradition that precedes the inquiry.
The radical skepticism at the heart of modernity leads to thinkers
asking ever more elementary questions, like Hume--Who am I? What do I
know?--and finding only unsatisfactory answers. It leads to nihilism.
The loss of serious interest in literature, or the humanities in
general, is one of the consequences.
Both argue that belief precedes knowledge, necessarily, and that we can
know things we cannot say. I've been spending quite a lot of time
"communicating" with English teachers across the nation, and in general
I think it's safe to say that any commitment to literature is waning,
and most are content to teach "reading" and there's little resistance
to the push for "21st Century Skills" which strip all meaningful
content out of the curriculum and leave only workplace skills requested
by our masters--Adobe, Intel, Microsoft--whose logos now appear on the
new curriculum map sent out by the National Council of Teachers of
English.
So I think Miele is right, but the trouble is more fundamental than
what he describes.
I was working on what I hoped would be a quick book I hoped to have
done by now that deals with a little of this, but when I got to the
point where I would make suggestions, I couldn't think of any that
involve public education. The schools have pretty formally announced
their mission is to teach basic skills and that they have nothing to
teach about any higher realities, if there are any higher realities.
So that's fine. My question is, where does the old humanizing education
happen? Most kids don't go to church. School no longer talks about
anything more ennobling than getting a better job than your neighbor.
History is taught mainly as a triumph of modernity over tradition,
which ends up being the triumph of nihilism over belief. Movies and
music and video games are the only storytellers left that many kids
hear.
So I'd say the canary is dead and stuffed, perhaps on Arnie Duncan's
desk, at least as far as the mass culture goes.
Oddly, I was writing about narrative intelligence when Art called, and
I was thinking about how to teach it and what I thought was sometimes
going on in the Heritage Project. This is what I had just written:
"Young people who have seen complicated projects through to completion,
working side by side with an adult who possesses powerful narrative
intelligence, are blessed."
That's a little story that makes me laugh.
I've been reading things to get ready for an AP class which is, so far,
sort of an anachronism. The College Board always includes some
premodern work on the tests, and the tests have remained mostly
uncorrupted, with about a 30% pass rate. That gives me some leverage
with at least that small population. So this summer they're reading
Tale
of Two Cities and contemplating the French Revolution and when
school starts we'll move on to
Crime and Punishment, Emma and
such. I'm trying to decide whether to push a big local research project
before the new principal knows where he is.
Okay, I'm back. I just went to an ambulance call with five patients.
Real work. I think everyone will be okay. Now it's bed time.