109.
German Mind Science: The Underground History of American Education by John
Taylor Gatto from archive.org
German
Mind Science
Back
at the beginning of the nineteenth century, wise men and women, honorable individuals themselves, came with sadness to
realize that for all the foreseeable future,
more and more ordinary people would need to give their entire lives to a
dark hole in the ground or in service to
a mind-destroying machine if a coal-fired dream world was to happen. People who grew up in the clean air
and the folk society of villages did not make
good workers for the screaming factories or the tunnels underground, or
the anthill offices.
What was needed was some kind of halfway
house that would train individuals
for the halfway lives ordinary people would be more and more called upon to lead. In a Utopia of machinery and steam, there could be free lunch for unprecedented numbers — but only if there were chains, bread, and water for the rest, at least for some unknown while. Plans for such a halfway institution as forced schooling (think of it as a training factory or a training mine) came together in Boston, Philadelphia, and New York, drawn by the best minds, for the best motives. They inflicted stupendous damage on the libertarian rights and privileges bequeathed to Americans by the nation's founders.
for the halfway lives ordinary people would be more and more called upon to lead. In a Utopia of machinery and steam, there could be free lunch for unprecedented numbers — but only if there were chains, bread, and water for the rest, at least for some unknown while. Plans for such a halfway institution as forced schooling (think of it as a training factory or a training mine) came together in Boston, Philadelphia, and New York, drawn by the best minds, for the best motives. They inflicted stupendous damage on the libertarian rights and privileges bequeathed to Americans by the nation's founders.
Profits from the industrial engine signed
the checks for many nineteenth-century
educational experiments like New Lanark in Scotland and New Harmony in
Indiana. They bought Fanny Wright her
school advocacy platform and helped her impose it on the Philadelphia Workingman's Party agenda in
1829. Many of the nineteenth-century
experimental social colonies looked upon themselves as early emanations
of Utopia, previews whispering to men
and women what might be, if only they turned their backs on the past and schooled for a new day. The
brevity of these experiments did nothing to
discourage their successors.
The coal of Westphalia in association with
the iron of Lorraine welded the scattered
states of Germany into a ferocious Utopian empire in the last half of
the nineteenth century. That empire,
birthplace of successful, mass forced schooling, made war upon the world, spreading its conception of research
universities and its Spartan state philosophy
of universal indoctrination and subordination all over the planet. In
1868, Japan adopted large parts of the
Prussian constitution together with the Prussian style of schooling. The garment that coal fashioned for Aryan
children was worn enthusiastically by coal-free
Nipponese as their own.
German mental science came to rule the
classrooms of the world in the early twentieth
century, nowhere more thoroughly than in coal-rich and oil-rich America.
America provided a perch from which to
study people closely and resources with which to find ways to bring them into compliance. Even
without intense ideological motivation driving
the project, the prospect of a reliable domestic market which could be
milked in perpetuity would have been
incentive enough to propel the school project, I believe.
These new studies growing out of the
coal-swollen ranks of leisured academic lives
suggested there should be radical changes in the mental diet of children.
A plan emerged piecemeal in these years
to be slowly inserted into national schooling. Seen from a distance a century later, it is possible to
discern the still shimmering outline of a powerful strategy drawing together at least ten
elements:
1. Removal of the active literacies of writing
and speaking which enable individuals to
link up with and to persuade others.
2.
Destruction of the narrative of American history connecting the arguments of
the Founding Fathers to historical
events, definingwhat makes Americans different
from others besides wealth.
3.
Substitution of a historical "social studies" catalogue of facts in
place of historical narrative.
4.
Radical dilution of the academic content of formal curriculum which familiarized students with serious literature, philosophy,
theology, etc. This has the effect of
curtailing any serious inquiries into economics, politics, or religion.
5. Replacement of academics with a
balanced-diet concept of "humanities," physical education, counseling, etc., as substance of
the school day.
6. Obfuscation or outright denial of the
simple, code-cracking drills which allow
fluency in reading to anyone.
7.
The confinement of tractable and intractable students together in small rooms.
In effect this is a leveling exercise
with predictable (and pernicious) results. A
deliberate contradiction of common-sense principles, rhetorically
justified on the grounds of
psychological and social necessity.
8. Enlargement of the school day and year to
blot up outside opportunities to acquire
useful knowledge leading to independent livelihoods; the insertion of
misleading surrogates for this knowledge
in the form of "shop" classes which actually teach little of skilled crafts.
9. Shifting
of oversight from those who have the greatest personal stake in student development — parents, community leaders, and
the students themselves — to a ladder of
strangers progressively more remote from local reality. All school transactions to be ultimately monitored by an
absolute abstraction, the
"standardized" test, correlating with nothing real and very
easily rigged to produce whatever
results are called for.
10.
Relentless low-level hostility toward religious interpretations of meaning.
There you have the brilliant formula used
to create a coal-fired mass mind.
Before his sudden death, I watched my
beloved bachelor friend and long-time fellow
schoolteacher Martin Wallach slowly surrender to forces of massification
he had long resisted. One day in his
late fifties he said, "There isn't any reason to go out anymore. They send food in; I have three hundred
channels. Everything is on TV. I couldn't see it all if I had two lifetimes. With my telephone
and modem I can get anything. Even girls.
There's only trouble outside anyway." He fell dead a year later
taking out his garbage.
Welcome to Utopia. We don't pray or pledge
allegiance to anything here, but condoms
and Ritalin are free for the asking.
Rest in peace, Martin.
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