Below is my NYU Gallatin rationale that I defended in front of a faculty panel.
During the Great Depression in 1938, a group of researchers led by W. T. Grant began the Harvard Study of Adult Development by tracking the health of 268 Harvard sophomores. They didn’t know it at the time, but this was the start of the one of the longest studies ever conducted on human happiness. They found that regardless of wealth, fame, and high achievement, people who fared the best were consistently the ones who had good interpersonal relationships. Social connections and community involvement are inherently beneficial for people. When we can share our thoughts and beliefs with others, we lead longer, happier lives.
In fact, our tendency to socialize is not just fulfilling, but has also given us the power to survive as a species. As Yuval Noah Harari notes in Homo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow, it’s our ability to collectively believe in intersubjective constructs such as money, borders, or religion that has enabled humans to survive and thrive since the development of language. Large-scale, flexible cooperation between individual human beings has allowed us to create and follow shared structures in society. To survive and conquer, we’ve accepted hierarchical systems of decision-making in the name of efficiency and order. We’ve grown accustomed to those in high positions of power placing low levels of trust in the masses. We’ve accepted that leaders often restrict information so that the experts can do their jobs. And we’ve taught our children to believe the same. The structure of education has been a reflection of society’s norms and the state’s needs over the course of history. Around the 6th century BC, Buddhist monasteries in India served to educate students while also preparing them to become proactive members of their religious communities. For generations, elders in a Nahuatl community near Mexico City have shared stories imbued with underlying messages that teach children to respect their environment for the collective good. In the Industrial Age, homework assignments were meant to bore students so they could get accustomed to doing redundant work. Students prepared for a life of repetitive labor through the “hidden curriculum” of following directions. While our educational practices have naturally differed from time to time and place to place, the aim has consistently been to develop engaged community members who will effectively serve the collective needs. As Harari points out, it just so happens that up until very recently, we’ve all been battling with the same basic struggles for survival: war, famine, and disease. To endure these difficulties, most large societies have cooperated under a common hierarchical structure in which the powerful hold the information and make the decisions. Thus, education has been structured the same way.
Especially since advances in science and medicine have allowed us to think beyond immediate survival, we’ve enjoyed viewing ourselves as the pinnacle of evolutionary progress. Harari observes “whereas the Agricultural Revolution gave rise to theist religions, the Scientific Revolution gave birth to humanist religions, in which humans replaced gods” (p. 98). Yet now we’re going through a change much larger than the Agricultural Revolution and the Scientific Revolution combined. Intelligence is decoupling from consciousness and we “gods” will soon be inconsequential next to biotechnology-enhanced superhumans and artificially intelligent beings. Anything that can be programmed with ones and zeros hops on the back of Moore’s Law, including 3D printing, virtual reality, and quantum computers. Peter Diamandis predicts that in the next three years we can expect the average laptop to have the same computing power as the human brain. In just a few decades that same computer will have the integrated circuit power equivalent to all human brains on Earth. But as Diamandis points out, that’s old news; “the new news is that formerly independent waves of exponentially accelerating technologies are beginning to converge with other independent waves of exponentially accelerating technology” (p. 16). Technology is accelerating at a faster rate than ever, and as these technologies converge their potential for disruption significantly increases in scale. It’s impossible to fathom the consequences.
This seismic shift toward a technology-centered world (in which the rate of change is accelerating exponentially) is demanding paradigm shifts in our work culture and social expectations. Today’s most dominant companies are the big tech firms contributing to the rise of exponential technologies and benefiting from the subsequent success. The typical jobs at these companies are complex, pay well, and require the social skills to work well with others. Since even the least senior person is highly skilled, the meritocracy of ideas is replacing the traditional hierarchy of position. Our economy and the structure of work are fundamentally changing and those who know how to capitalize on it are gaining power. The private sphere now holds the capacity to be more powerful than the politicians supposedly in charge to regulate it. As technological advances and automation have replaced jobs, over the past 40 years the average worker’s productivity has doubled compared to their compensation. This means that GDP and productivity have remained on an upward trajectory, while income and career prospects for typical workers have stumbled. This concept is known as the “Great Decoupling,” and connotes that although productivity growth is high, those at the bottom and a growing number in the middle are being left behind. Our social fabric is actively being unraveled and the average person can no longer expect a stable life. How do we prepare ourselves for these unprecedented shifts? Education has traditionally followed along with society to prepare students for an active role in the economy and civic life. Work is changing, but our classrooms still look the same. Through my work with NYC public school leaders building accessible websites that will hopefully boost enrollment, I’ve realized just how far behind our educational system is in terms of digital literacy and the organizational ability to adjust to even a small change in process. It’s possible that the pace of change is too great for our current bureaucratic system to keep up. Given the changing nature of work and an uncertain future, how can we improve the way we educate our children? I’m not aiming to determine the full set of answers here, but I believe it’s vital that we take an inquisitive approach to this complicated conversation.
The majority of formal educational institutions over the course of history can be characterized by a hierarchical structure and the restriction of information to students by those in positions of power. Academic systems have historically mirrored society, as the politically powerful want to produce workers and military members who are prepared to contribute to the economy and participate in civic duties effectively. On the downside, authoritarian instruction can contribute to a culture of fear and distrust, which makes it difficult to achieve one of the main goals of education held by individual thinkers throughout history: to liberate the student toward new ways of thinking. In Pedagogy of the Oppressed, Paolo Freire makes the case for the process of conscientization, or critical awareness, in teaching and learning. Self-reflection by both the teacher and student is important since “problem-posing education involves a constant unveiling of reality” (p. 81). Although questioning deeply held convictions may be uncomfortable, it is necessary for growth. Freire published his work in 1972 with an understanding that education wasn’t quite matching up with our needs as individuals free from the anxieties of immediate death thanks to advances in medicine and infrastructure. It just so happens that up until the 21st century, in the name of survival almost all civilizations have functioned in a tall hierarchy that allows “experts” to make quick decisions. Thus, educational systems have operated within the same framework.
By the 6th century BC in China, competing political states had led to a period of unrest. The small number of principal kingdoms remaining demanded strict structures to maintain and defend their territories, requiring high levels of discipline and respect for authority from their people. The novel values of Confucianism became the educational standard because its teachings most closely satisfied these conditions, although other philosophies were appreciated. In this period of skepticism and social disorder the sage Lao Tzu theorized that all things and all people are interconnected. In the Tao Te Ching, he encouraged non-interventional observance of nature, writing to “to know and yet (think) we do not know is the highest (attainment); not to know (and yet think) we do know is a disease” (p. 71). Although Daoism wasn’t widely adopted until later on, it served as a basis for collectivist thought and influenced the arts, sciences, and development of medicine. However, it was the teachings of Confucius which supported the state’s rigidity of rituals and strict social order. Around this time, the philosopher became the first Chinese teacher to provide open access education for all backgrounds and social classes, although still only for male students. He didn’t charge his disciples tuition, instead asking for a gift of bundled dried meat in exchange for lessons. Confucius tutored students to pass the Civil Service Exams while teaching self-discipline and filial piety. His “Five Classics” texts became part of the state-sponsored curriculum. In an effort to select the best candidates for the state bureaucracy the Imperial examinations tested for precise regurgitation of his quotes. To maintain a cohesive political state and strong military, the government needed citizens to follow directions and respect authority. Education followed in its path by adopting Confucian instruction.
Roughly 500 years later, amidst the destruction of the Jewish commonwealth by the Romans in 70 CE, the survival of Jewish culture required those at the highest ranks of society to prescribe a narrow and specific set of information to be fed to children. Israeli sages feared an approaching diaspora and decided that education needed to be formalized to maintain tradition. In the Talmud, Rav Yehuda praised that if not for Yehoshua ben Gamla, “the Torah would have been forgotten from the Jewish people” (p. 21). Teaching the Torah had been the responsibility of the patriarch, but Yehoshua recognized that every child should have the opportunity to learn. He instituted a novel public education system in each and every province and town for children to begin schooling around the age of six. The curriculum, or Mishnah, focused on literacy, memorizing the laws of Judaism, and reading specific important texts. The schools served to create active members of the community who could join in on discussions. Arguments were encouraged as long as they fell within the teachings of Judaism. Therefore, the texts available to students were intentionally restricted. In preparation for a potentially indefinite period of displacement, Jewish leaders needed to be dictatorial and somewhat authoritarian to ensure traditions were maintained. Education served the needs of social order through hierarchical decision making and controlling information at the top.
Even in the most hierarchical societies, there has been room for free thinkers. Academic thought and work have not always been coercive, though usually nonconforming individuals were philosophers coping with the oppressive structure of the time. In Early Medieval Europe, the Roman statesman and thinker Boethius was imprisoned on charges of conspiracy by the King of Italy. While waiting to be executed, he mused on the meaning of life by writing The Consolation of Philosophy. In his sorrow, he is visited by the fictional Lady Philosophy, who offers that “he who is burdened by fears and desires is not master of himself…. He fastens the chain by which he will be drawn” (7). When Boethius uses the word “chain” he is referring to the material possessions which we mistake for happiness. Instead Boethius argues that true freedom is found in one’s self, the mind and soul. Bell Hooks shares a similar approach to education as a liberating and healing process in Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom. Hooks asserts that successful learning is achieved by the respect and care for the souls of students. Boethius used his knowledge of philosophy, music, poetry, arithmetic and logical thought to share carefully reflective pieces meant to be accessible for all learners. Several centuries after Boethius’ death his works became the foundation for the humanities and in turn the modern university. The university served to push the limits of knowledge, a purpose entirely different than that of traditional elementary or secondary education. We’ve adopted the cultural expectation that primary and secondary education would end in a binary path: get accepted to university or go straight into a vocation. Today we observe this dichotomization under one goal of “college and career readiness.”
Although college is more common and vocational in the current era (and a large percentage of graduates are underemployed), the sharp social divide prevalent today between those with higher education degrees and those without them can be traced to the pointed purpose of primary and secondary education in the Industrial Age. To prepare students for life in crowded factories where they would be expected to churn out repetitive tasks, a “hidden curriculum” was developed to teach timeliness, discipline, and tolerance for boredom. Homework was given to practice producing work on someone else’s schedule. Schools were required to maintain records on attendance, teacher compensation, and expenditures. While the layers of bureaucracy compounded, hierarchical structure and a prescribed flow of information from authorities also increased. Technology was changing the structure of work and the social tissue of rich nations.
Although public education was serving the needs of the economy and larger society, industrialization and globalization ignited a level of change in the educational system that had never been seen before. In the United States the responsibility to organize and execute public education rested on state and district authorities rather than the federal government, allowing regions with specific dominant industries and cultures to develop their own best version of a taxpayer-funded school system. A growing consumer class meant higher demand for workers and a sudden need to educate a broader class. High school graduation rates escalated and an influx in immigration meant more diverse classrooms. Urbanization and the move away from an agriculture-focused economy placed families in a state of both disruption and hope. The changing social and economic structures in the Industrial Age marked the beginning of a polarizing economy. Scottish economist Adam Smith believed that individual pressures on free market supply and demand resulted in benefits for society as a whole. This unseen force, or the “invisible hand,” worked with the economic division of labor to form a network of interdependencies upon which everyone could have a stake and prosper. Smith argued that the government should take a hands-off management approach regarding the everyday lives of its workers who were busy contributing to the velocity of money. Instead he thought policy should be restricted to policing, border control, and taking part in public services including education.
Throughout the Industrial Revolution and beginning of the 20th century, the U.S. education system continued to adapt to the changing needs of the economy and society. But as emerging technologies began to accelerate in the booming post-WWII economy, the educational leaders of the time, who grew up in the same siloed educational system that was now a part of their professional identity, didn’t know how to adjust the curriculum to fit a reality that didn’t already exist. In 1954 Martin Heidegger presented “The Question Concerning Technology” in which he discusses how we may think of technology as a means to an end or as a human activity, however we should question our relationship with the “instrumental,” or how we pursue things. His question is really about causality, since technology views the world as it is and will ultimately reveal the truth of all beings. He warns us “the will to mastery becomes all the more urgent the more technology threatens to slip from human control" (p. 313).
The urgency has arrived. Since the dawn of the Information Age in the 20th century, our world has been changing rapidly and we’ve struggled to make sense of these shifts. The turn of the millennium brought an extraordinary change with the dot-com boom. The switch to a digital world meant that the tall hierarchical structure in which top government officials controlled the flow of information was no longer beneficial, nor was it possible. Distributed, low cost technology now holds the information. What are the implications of these rapid advances in technology? We reap the benefits in overall higher quality of life and democratized access to information. At the same time, globalization, technological improvements, and automation have been associated with reduced job security and substantial dislocation. An estimated 400 million to 800 million people could be displaced by automation in the next 14 years. Technological progress tends to take a large number of low paying jobs and replace them with a small number of high paying jobs. Low skilled information workers are in low demand and the wealth gap will only increase. Data-driven decision making & the ability of machines to communicate with one another will increase efficiency, eliminate the need for human administrative support, and change the roles of workers. People who expected a secure, comfortable life have historically searched for comfort by blaming “the other.” Occupying powers or systems, people who receive government aid, immigrants, and minority groups have all been made scapegoats for the discomfort caused by technological progress. Adam Smith’s “invisible hand” may have worked in an economy where everyone is an active participant, but that will no longer be the case. Given the changing nature of work we need to fundamentally reimagine how we determine an individual’s value. For the millions of people who may never find the same kind of work again, we may need radical shifts in policy, perhaps universal basic income or subsidized healthcare, to support those affected. Considering that accelerating technologies are now converging, it’s safe to say that the world in 50 years will be almost unrecognizable.
As intelligent machine systems proliferate in an automated and outsourced workforce, we need to rethink the knowledge, skills, and environments that students need to thrive. Given these big changes in society and work driven by rapidly advancing technologies, what do we want our educational systems to look like? In the face of uncertainty, how do we know what is good to teach? Many people want to see the Department of Education show confidence and progress toward effectively preparing our students for the future. We want to trust our leaders, but we’ve lost our faith in the systems which are supposed to support us. As Simon Sinek explains, we’re drawn to leaders who make us feel safe by communicating with empathy and a sense of purpose.
A good leader can be likened to a parent working towards the goal of the family system: healthy development. In Finding A Place to Stand, Dr. Edward Shapiro points out that when there is a loss of the holding environment, a term derived from the maternal function of holding an infant, irrational roles can be assigned. Family roles are recreated in organizations; the good leader is the loving, stable, safe parent. Yet, human behavior functions on infinite complexity, often unconscious to others and ourselves. Organizations are made up of humans and their irrationalities, so the comprehensive reality of an organization “is drawn from a collective and collaborative willingness to openly discuss the range of internal views and fantasies among the members” (Shapiro 70). While I agree it can be productive to critically analyze the organization tasked with preparing our students for the future, we have to recognize that asking someone to create a plan for when artificial intelligence overthrows humanity is a profoundly complex assignment. The changing nature of work and society is an interdisciplinary and nuanced topic, so we need to take a collaborative and inquisitive approach toward finding solutions. Many scholars and educators have argued that we’re stuck in the factory model of education. We’ve been practicing hierarchical forms of instruction and restricting access to information for thousands of years. It can be difficult to change deeply embedded habits and culture, but it helps to have a general sense of direction.
Technology is now the most powerful source of information in the world. The traditionally efficient top-down structure of society is no longer possible, nor is it ethical, when those at the bottom essentially have access to the same information as the privileged. The need for hierarchy is further alleviated as automation frees up the amount of time spent on monotonous tasks. This also means that remaining work will be more team-based. Team members need to bring their own perspective to the table. We need to encourage students to research topics they find important or interesting using the information already at their fingertips. It’s no longer necessary for teachers to prescribe a narrow set of texts or ideas. The number of sources students could use for a project may have been finite when we were confined to a single library building. Now students can go online to find an unlimited number of unique and interesting sources for assignments. Digital learning provides endless opportunities for both educators and students to teach and learn. Encouraging exploration of digital resources can act as a platform to open discourse between positions of varying power, unlike the hierarchical structures throughout history. Yes, authority is still sometimes required, but teachers need more opportunities to meet their students at the same level to model effective teamwork.
We need to move away from a fear of failure and toward a willingness to try. The rampancy of standardized curriculum and testing in educational settings, especially in the U.S. public school system, fosters a culture in which there is one right answer. If you don’t get it, you fail. Traditional education follows the “banking model” that treats students as empty vessels to be filled with knowledge. If students are taught to memorize information out of the fear of failure, then we are actually the ones failing our students. The new economy calls for collaboration, an appreciation of diverse perspectives, and creative problem-solving skills. Unfortunately, these competencies are underemphasized in most K-12 curriculum in the U.S. Educational systems need to place higher levels of trust in students to foster self-confidence and socioemotional skills. Some routine jobs will remain human simply because people will pay a premium to interact with a pleasant, trustworthy, and competent person instead of a machine. Currently, schools don’t place trust in students. As Alan M. Lesgold notes in Learning for the Age of Artificial Intelligence, the lesson is all too often to not get caught and to be quiet. When students are empowered to make decisions on their own and experiment, they gain confidence. Whether students become entrepreneurs, service workers, or just have to handle life without a job, emotional intelligence is beneficial for anyone in the age of automation.
Some educators may argue that soft skills are only needed by managers while low-skill workers just need to follow directions. However, those low-skill jobs are prime targets for automation, so when those jobs are replaced by machines the workers will need to think deeply and get creative with finding new work. They need to have the financial literacy skills to set aside enough money before their next gig. Uncertainty requires flexibility and interdisciplinary approaches. We’ve functioned under the assumption that specialization in a siloed subject is the key to success. David Epstein, author of Range: Why Generalists Triumph in a Specialized World, argues that it is actually the generalists who defy domains and juggle many interests who are primed to excel. This is particularly relevant in the face of uncertainty. The problem-solvers who can think broadly and make connections across disciplines will handle rapidly changing terrain best. In an age when converging technologies will continue to spin into more nuanced webs of interconnected systems, computers are mastering the skills once reserved for highly focused experts. In Getting Smart: How Digital Learning is Changing the World, Tom Vander Ark makes the case that “students will win when public education values inventiveness over tradition, responsiveness over hierarchy, and collaboration over exclusivity” (p. 158). The future of work is uncertain, but we know that all members of society will need to be creative, emotionally intelligent, and empathetic to lead a fulfilling life in the age of artificial intelligence. The nature of work is fundamentally changing. Will our educational system change with it?
Humanities (Post Mid-1600s):
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Article for NYU Entrepreneurial Institute as Startup of the Week. At edgi we think education should be so compelling and fun that people would rather spend their time learning than swiping through a social feed or playing video games.
