The Faintly Odious Schoolteacher

Following a line of thought introduced by Rancière, I was reminded of Theodor Adorno’s essay “Taboos on the Teaching Profession.” (I alluded to this essay in an earlier post about a bullying teacher.) Adorno considers the status differential between the “faintly odious” schoolteacher and the university professor who enjoys “the highest prestige.” First he notes the capitalist petit-bourgeois status distinction between the risk-taking independent professionals like lawyers and physicians vis-a-vis the bureaucratic functionaries, including schoolteachers, whose livelihood is assured. But universities are state bureaucracies too, with the tenure track offering lifetime security to the long-term university functionary — why isn’t the professor tainted with the schoolteacher’s odium?

For Adorno it’s a matter of power. Doctors and lawyers and administrators are delegated real power among fellow adults, whereas teachers wield power only over children, who aren’t accorded full legal autonomy and rights. As a consequence, the teacher’s “parody” of real power is resented by those over whom that power is exercised, meaning everyone who is or who ever was a schoolchild. But in what way is the university professor’s power more “real” than a schoolteacher’s? Is it just that university students are deemed legal adults, so they can escape if they like the power that the professor wields over them, the power that evaluates them and that may either grant or deny certain privileges accorded to those who get a university degree? I suppose so. Similarly, an adult worker can choose to quit a job that subjects him to the boss’ power, or to engage in some sort of dispute that subjects him to the lawyer’s and the judge’s power. I’m not persuaded of the difference: the power differential between worker and boss, disputant and judge, between college student and professor, is no more real, in the sense of being part of the natural order of things, than that between child and adult. It’s also no less coercive. The adult university student can quit school, but that decision forecloses career choices and imposes structural limits on economic gain. Are those consequences “real,” in the sense that the person without a college degree really is less qualified, or is the degree an artificial distinction imposed by social conventions? I think we’d all agree that, while the university is dedicated to learning, the degree itself is no more than a badge.

Adorno contends that the respected teachers, the successful teachers, the good teachers, are those who refuse to exert disciplinary power over the students. Instead, the good teachers subject themselves to the intellectual discipline of their academic specialties. “In other words,” says Adorno, “they are not bound to the pedagogical sphere, which is considered to be secondary and, as I said, suspect.” Bad teachers, by contrast, identify themselves professionally as teachers, as pedagogues.

“The problem of the immanent untruth of pedagogy lies probably in the fact that the pursuit is tailored to its recipients, that it is not purely objective work for the sake of the subject matter itself. Rather the subject matter is subsumed under pedagogical interests. For this reason alone the students are entitled unconsciously to feel deceived. Not only do the teachers recite for their students something already established, but also their function of mediator as such — which is like all circulatory activities in society already a priori a bit suspect — incurs some of the general aversion. Max Scheler once said that only because he never treated his students pedagogically did he have any pedagogical effect. I can only confirm this from my own experience. Success as an academic teacher apparently is due to the absence of any kind of calculated influence, to the renunciation of persuasion.”

So, the teacher who exerts power over the student practices a teacher-centered profession, while the pedagogue hopes to invert the power differential by being student-centered. Neither is effective, says Adorno. Instead, teaching should be knowledge-centered. The teacher or professor who actively pursues research in his field of scholarly expertise is in the best position to teach without getting caught up on one side or the other of a power differential with the students.

Still, there is a structural imbalance inherent in the student-teachers relationship. While students may consciously assert their equality with the teacher, Adorno warns that unconsciously the students tend to regard the teacher in parental terms, as an agent of the superego. The teacher who tries to be ultra-rational in his work is just falling into the counter-transference trap triggered by the students’ expectations, which often results in rigidity, tension, and awkwardness. Alternatively, the teacher might try to overcompensate by becoming “one of the gang” with the students, potentially veering toward anti-intellectualism. Instead, Adorno advises teachers to recognize the trap and to neutralize it by acknowledging their subjectivity.

“They should not repress their emotions only then to vent them in rationalized guise; instead they must acknowledge the emotions to themselves and others and thereby disarm their pupils. Most likely a teacher who says, ‘Yes, I am unjust; I am just as human as you are; some things please me, and some things don’t,’ is more convincing than one who strictly upholds the ideology of justice but then inevitably commits unavowed injustice. It goes without saying that from such reflections it follows directly that psychoanalytic training and self-reflection are necessary to the teaching profession.”

Adorno notes in passing that the pedestal of public esteem on which the university professor had traditionally stood is shrinking. Increasingly the professor is becoming “a peddler of knowledge, who is slightly pitied because he cannot better exploit that knowledge for his own material interests.” While Adorno believes that pulling the professors down from their lordly heights is a good thing, he regrets that the instrumental rationality of our times is reducing “spirit” to a commodity value.

The Maîtresse Speaks

When Kenzie was in the CM2 (which corresponds to the fifth grade in American schools and something else altogether in Britain), the survey of French history of course included the Middle Ages. Her teacher, Madame Brivet, explained feudalism in terms of an analogy that all the children could understand:

Medieval France was organized like our school. The Directrice is the Queen; we teachers are the Priests; your parents are the Lords. You, students, are the peasants. It does not matter how clever you are, how hard you work, how far you advance in your studies, how old you get. You will always be a peasant, and you can never hope to become anything above a peasant.

Some Calculations on College Prices

The average price of private college tuition in the US for the 2009-10 school year (not including room and board) was $26,273.

Let’s say that the typical college student takes 15 hours of coursework per semester, and that the typical semester is 16 weeks long, with 2 semesters per school year. The price each student pays for in-class time = $26,273/15/16/2 = $55 per hour. Let’s suppose that, for every hour spent in class, the professor spends 2 hours outside of class preparing, marking papers, etc. So now it’s $55/3 = $18/hour that each student pays for his/her share of the professor’s time for teaching that class.

Dr. Jones is teaching a 4-hour class with 25 students enrolled. For that class Dr. Jones brings in $55 x 4 x 25 = $5,500 per week for 12 hours’ work. If Dr. Jones teaches 3 courses per semester, he will bring in ($5,500 per week)  x (16 weeks) x (3 classes per semester) x (2 semesters) = $528,000 per year. In doing so he will have put in 12 x 16 x 3 x 2 = 1152 hours of work. That’s a billable rate of $458 per hour.

A reasonable estimate is that, on average, professors (including assistants, associates, and part-timers) in US private colleges make about $55,000 plus benefits = $65,000 per year.

Divide this $65K annual pay by the 1152 teaching hours worked, and the teacher makes $56.42 per hour. That’s 56.42/458 = 12.3% of the billable hourly rate. If the private college students paid their professors at this rate, the annual tuition cost would be $26,273 x .123 = $3,237 per year. Of course the teachers and students would have to find someplace for the classes to meet, clean the place up after they’re done, figure out how to function without the administrators, etc.

Who Needs Teachers?

I sympathize with the Boulder teachers, who face salary cuts and possible staffing reductions next school year. They argue, and in my opinion rightfully so, that since the school district’s top administrators are hired by the School Board, they don’t really represent the teachers’ interests. Instead, they impose a business model on education, cutting expenses designated for classroom teaching without imposing commensurate austerity measures on the managers and accountants and other overhead types who don’t directly contribute to the educational mission. On the other hand, the amount of money available for education really has diminished, a consequence of a general economic downturn that’s lowered the state and local tax revenues which are the only sources of funding for public schools. It’s possible that the electorate will vote for increased school taxes next year to offset the shortfalls, but I seriously doubt that the voters, facing their own diminished economic situations, will be in any mood to do so.

There are more drastic ways to reduce educational costs than incremental reductions in pay and in force. As I noted in a prior post, the school district has been experimenting with online courses. With no classrooms and with discussions taking place via blogs and emails, online teachers can be spread more thinly, reducing per-student costs. Then there’s home schooling, which costs the taxpayers nothing at all. I’ve not made a systematic study, but on a cursory review it’s evident that, in comparing course grades and test scores and student satisfaction, the e-learners and the home-schooled achieve equal or better results compared to students in traditional learning environments. I’ve also looked a bit at the impact of differences in teacher quality on student outcomes: again, the results aren’t at all persuasive that better teaching yields better learning. And despite all the advances in pedagogy over the past decades, standardized test results in the US remain steady.

Which brings me to today’s book report.

“In 1818, Joseph Jacotot, a lecturer in French literature at the University of Louvain, had an intellectual adventure.”

Joseph Jacques Rancière, former protégé of Marxist philosopher Louis Althusser, presents Jacotot’s adventure as a paradigm for educational overhaul in The Ignorant Schoolmaster: Five Lessons in Intellectual Emancipation (1987). In 1815 Jacotot, a celebrated scholar in France, found himself exiled to Brussels. Knowing no Flemish and having no motivation to learn it, Jacotot assigned his students the task of learning French by studying a bilingual French-Flemish translation of The Telemachy. Jacotot didn’t teach his students The Telemachy, nor did he teach French lessons; he simply told them to learn French by reading the book. Periodically he would ask the students how they were progressing, even though he couldn’t evaluate their self-assessments because he still knew no Flemish. Finally Jacotot asked the students to write, in French, what they thought of the book. The results proved enlightening to Jacotot: the students had learned French without being taught French.

Jacotot’s take-home lesson: it’s not only possible but preferable for a schoolmaster to teach subjects of which he himself is ignorant. Or, to paraphrase a popular slam on the teaching profession, those who can should do, those who can’t should teach. It’s like the Music Man forming a school band from scratch without being able to play a lick himself.

In the usual educational arrangement, the teacher is positioned as the Master of the subject and of explicating the subject to the student. This assignment of roles, said Jacotot, is predicated on an inequality of intelligence between Master and student, an inequality that reflects and perpetuates the hierarchical society which the educational system serves. Even progressives perpetuate the system by instituting one educational reform after another that attempt to redress baseline inequalities between the underprivileged and the elite, reforms that are doomed never to reach the goal of actually achieving equality. Instead of making equality the goal of education, Jacotot assumed equality as a starting-point. All children are perfectly capable of learning their native language without explicitly being taught: why can’t they learn another language, or mathematics, or philosophy, the same way? Give the kids a book and some time, make sure they’re not being lazy and inattentive, and voilà — the students teach themselves. A book is self-explanatory: why stick a Master explicator between the student and the book? The Master implicitly teaches students that they cannot teach themselves, instilling a passivity before recognized experts that’s liable to persist for a lifetime. And it’s in this way that the schools serve as an ideological apparatus of the state: the students’ passive dependence on the Master, the “stultification” of their will and attention, recreates and preserves the broader hierarchical social-economic inequality between the elite and everyone else. In contrast, the self-taught student is “emancipated.” Obliged to engage his own perfectly adequate intelligence rather than relying on the Master’s, the emancipated student enters an educational “circle of power” that includes himself, his fellow students, and his teacher in the joint exercise of intelligence among equals.

“Whoever teaches without emancipation stultifies. And whoever emancipates doesn’t have to worry about what the emancipated person learns. He will learn what he wants, nothing maybe. He will know he can learn because the same intelligence is at work in all the productions of the human mind, and a man can always understand another man’s words.” (p. 18)

“Man is a will served by an intelligence,” Jacotot asserted. Does this mean that the emancipated person who engages his will to learn can accomplish anything he wants? Yes, says Jacotot. Rancière cautions the reader that Jacotot’s teaching method

“is not the key to success granted to the enterprising who explore the prodigious power of the will. Nothing could be more opposed to the thought of emancipation than that advertising slogan… It is undoubtedly true that the ambitious and the conquerors gave ruthless illustration of it. Their passion was an inexhaustible source of ideas, and they quickly understood how to direct generals, scholars, or financiers faultlessly in sciences they did not know. But what interests us is not this theatrical effect. What the ambitious gain in the way of intellectual power by not judging themselves inferior to anyone, they lose by judging themselves superior to everyone else. What interests us is the exploration of the powers of any man when he judges himself equal to everyone else and judges everyone else equal to him. By the will we mean that self-reflection by the reasonable being who knows himself in the act. It is this threshold of rationality, this consciousness of and esteem for the self as a reasonable being acting, that nourishes the movement of the intelligence. The reasonable being is first of all a being who knows his power, who doesn’t lie to himself about it.” (pp. 56-57)

Equality of intelligence among individuals doesn’t mean identity in its application, such that each student learns the same things. Nor does a society comprised of emancipated individuals become an intelligent society. Jacotot’s vision for education and society — and Rancière’s as well — is an anarchism verging on libertarianism, in which individuals pursue their own individual pathways in a milieu of mutual support among equals. Says Jacotot:

“There is no pride in saying out loud: Me too, I’m a painter! Pride consists in saying softly to others: You neither, you aren’t a painter.” (p. 67)

Jacotot knew that the ignorant schoolmaster couldn’t successfully be instituted as a societally mandated model, with the accompanying insistence on certifications and standardized pedagogical techniques and evaluations. Emancipated education can’t be instituted; it can only be practiced, parent to child, ignorant schoolmaster to ignorant student, citizen to citizen.

“[G]overnment doesn’t owe the people an education, for the simple reason that one doesn’t owe people what they can take for themselves. And education is like liberty: it isn’t given; it’s taken.” (pp. 106-107)

Flagellant Processions

“When the whip is raised, when leather, scourge, and cane strike against covered or naked flesh, we stand before a stage — a stage on which a ritual unfolds.”

So begins In Praise of the Whip: A Cultural History of Arousal, Niklaus Largier’s scrupulous chronicle of the curious practice of flagellation. While flogging has always been a popular method of punishment and torture, and while during the Lupercalia festival of ancient Rome women were whipped to ensure fertility, and although medieval Christianity was notoriously enthusiastic about penitence and penance, it isn’t until the tenth century that the disciplina of self-flagellation first appears in the annals of Christian asceticism. Even when practiced in eremitic seclusion, flagellation is intrinsically theatrical, for the act of self-abnegation is always staged for an audience of at least one: God Himself. But flagellation isn’t only an act of penitence; it is also, and perhaps predominantly, imagined as  a staged participation in the final scourging of Jesus that culminated in his crucifixion. In effect the flagellant’s blood intermingles with Jesus’ blood in a bodily re-enactment of the atonement. It’s in this sense of participating in Christ’s redemption that the public act of self-flagellation bears bodily witness to the Scriptural testimony. Enthralled by the multisensory image of the flagellant’s performance, the observer is brought through the inflamed imagination into an enactment of the Passion, where the torn flesh of the penitent commingles with the Word and the Spirit.

Largier traces the historical role of the intensely transcendent sensuality of flagellation through Ascesis to Erotics and finally to Therapeutics, these being the three main divisions of the book. While eventually we reach some risque bits and a few naughty pictures, I’m going to stick with ascesis in this post, because I learned about something I’d never heard of before. Did you know that there were flagellant processions during the Middle Ages? These were widespread popular movements that erupted not once but twice, eighty years apart. The first uprising of the flagellant processions began in 1260-1 in Perugia during a time of epidemic and famine; the second wave, in 1349-50, kept one step ahead of the plague that swept the continent.  Largier quotes at length from Hugo Spechtshart of Reutlingen, who witnessed some of the processions that erupted nearly everywhere in central Europe during 1349-50 and just as suddenly vanished.

“Priest and count, knight and serf participated… as well as monks, burghers, farmers, and professors… In those day, the flagellants moved about the land in great throngs. They tortured their bodies with gruesome whips whose effect was increased by the presence of knots in the straps. Whoever goes with them places himself under the sign of the cross, for as Scripture teaches us, all those who bear the cross are worthy and acceptable to the Virgin. They wore crosses on the front and back of their coats, also on the front and back of their hats… They even wear hats when flagellating themselves in a circle, so that… the cross is constantly before their eyes…

“They would spend each night in a different place, They stayed overnight at various sites, often quite impoverished ones, and would move about for a total of 34 days, since Christ spent exactly that many years on earth. The last day is only half a day, then everyone returns home.

“Once at nice and twice during the day, they tormented themselves with blows of the whip before the astonished crowd, and together they sang hymns while moving about in a circle and throwing themselves to the ground in the form of a cross. They did this six times, remaining on the ground each time until they had prayed two Pater Nosters.”

Bearing flags emblazoned with a cross, the flagellants, barefoot and clad in rags, would walk from town to town.  Until the 33½ days of their pilgrimage were completed the flagellants would neither bathe nor wash their clothes nor trim their beards. They were not permitted to ask for lodging, but could accept if a place was offered for the night. They were forbidden to sleep in beds or to associate with women.

“While on the path engaged in communal flagellation, they walked in side-by-side rows, like siblings, and sang songs as if they were scholars. As soon as they entered a place, the bells would ring and the people would stream out to gape at them and their fascinating terrible wounds. But they also came to beg of Christ the crucified, to fend off terrible and sudden death, and to give grace to the dead, peace to the living, and heavenly joy to the close of their lives… Crowds of men formed, and after a while they disappeared and no one knew any longer what had become of them.”

The flagellant processions made a significant impact on the towns they visited. Residents confessed their sins publicly, longstanding disputes were reconciled, thieves returned what they’d stolen, jails were emptied, slaves and captives were freed, exiles were welcomed home. Through strange behaviors, mass migration, egalitarian communality, and independence from most political and ecclesiastical authority, the flagellant processions constituted a radical if short-lived “deterritorialization” of medieval European culture.

Oh, and did I mention that this book was translated from the German by one Graham Harman?

UPDATE: Inasmuch as Graham linked to this post calling it a review, I’ll supplement my obsession over the flagellant processions with at least some review-like material. Briefly, I enjoyed the book and found it informative and stimulating. Largier spends more time describing than analyzing, but the wealth of material he’s assembled and the way he’s organized it maps an intellectual trajectory that’s self-validating. He doesn’t interpret, and implicitly condemn, medieval flagellation in terms of sublimated sexuality. Instead, he traces the gradual historic compartmentalization of a libidinal energy that a thousand years ago permeated body and spirit and imagination in a “conspiratorial connection” which, Largier contends, “became unbearable.” Phallic sexuality has thus become the only legitimate locus and interpretive context for erotic pleasure, including an odd variant like flagellation, while “the only place imagination is now allowed to occupy is the arts.”

Not having German myself, I cannot remark on the quality of the translation.

Travelling by Monk, 2000

I was writing in my notebook about a Procession, assembling itself person by person, moving slowly through a beplagued medieval Europe and perhaps into the future as well, straddling the Apocalypse, when this piece came on the internet radio.

Coraline by Selick, 2009

There are plenty of captivating images in this movie…

…but from the first few minutes we started getting creeped out by its personal uncanniness. The film’s premise is that the kid, Coraline, gains access to an alternate reality through a portal in her house. Evidently this portalic transport is mediated by a doll given to her by a new friend’s grandmother — a doll that looks just like Coraline. As we start watching we soon discover that Coraline…

… and her doppelgänger doll…

…have blue hair. That’s funny: Kenzie has blue hair. Then we see the dad writing something on his computer. He’s wearing a Michigan State sweatshirt.

That’s funny: I went to Michigan State. There’s a black cat — we have a black cat. The town where Coraline lives is preparing for the Shakespeare Festival — we just received our local Shakespeare Festival brochure in the mail yesterday. Extra-diegetic music in the film is provided by the Children’s Choir of Nice — we moved here from Nice. Hey, wait a minute…

Universal School

Beginnning in the fall, our local school district plans to offer a wide array of middle school and high school courses via the Internet — here’s the local paper’s report. Apparently Boulder is behind the curve on this trend: the article says that, in the past two years, more than 300 students have left the district schools and enrolled in online options offered in nearby districts. Courses and online teachers will be offered through a contract with Aventa, a vendor headquartered in Arizona. According to their website, Aventa has offered e-courses to over a thousand school districts nationwide.

“Eventually, Boulder Valley wants to have its own teachers instructing the online courses, according to assistant superintendent Pilch. “But right now, we are not ready to do that,” she said. The district has projected enrollment in the new online school to be the equivalent of 75 full-time students next year, Pilch said. That could be a combination of part-time and full-time students. “Those numbers are probably low,” she said. Pilch said online learning is “not for every student,” and district officials work with students up front to make sure they can succeed in an online course. “We want them to know that online learning engages students for just as many hours and at the same level of rigor as brick and mortar school,” she said.

During the current economic downturn schools here and throughout the country have confronted lower operating revenues. Salaries have been frozen; teachers and support staff have been let go. It seems almost certain that a single online teacher spends less time per student than does a classroom teacher, meaning lower per-pupil cost. The move to online education seems likely to continue, resulting in significant permanent losses of jobs and the individuation of what has traditionally been a communal educational experience.

Soon the Boulder Board of Education will be asked to approve the “Boulder Universal” proposal. I wonder what the teachers’ union has to say about it?

Kenzie Gallery

It’s been quite awhile since I put up any of our daughter Kenzie’s art. Here are some of her most recent pieces.

“The Empress” (watercolor)

Untitled (pastel)

“Aspettativa: Fanatica” (tempera)

“Aphrodite” (acrylic)

Untitled (tempera)

Geographic Blog Dispersion

For free, Sitemeter maintains a running summary of the last hundred visitors to the blog, showing when they arrived, what page they clicked in on, and where they (or, more accurately, their ISP addresses) are located geographically. Sometimes I scan this list looking at the places and wondering how these people happened to show up at Ktismatics. Here are some of the latest 100 visitors:

Sao Paulo; Calcutta; Setubal, Portugal (I slept in a sleeping bag in a rock quarry in the rain there once); Tel Aviv; Oras, Romania; Chahar, Islamic Republic of Iran, Hebron, Occupied Palestinian Territory; Lenart, Slovenia; Dubai, United Arab Emirates; Toledo, Spain, Kaunas, Lithuania; Yazd, Islamic Republic of Iran; Nova Gradiska, Croatia; Tehran (that’s 3 from Iran, which is pretty typical); Bucharest; Tehran (that’s 4); Athens; (unidentified city), Egypt; Santiago, Chile; Jakarta.

And now that I’ve finished writing this short post I see that Ktismatics’ latest visitor clicked in from… yes, it’s Iran again.

(Brief Notes On Discipline)

The supporting structures have cracked and splintered, the skin is shredded and torn, leaving only the ruins of an extinct medieval animal. Its call, long unheard in the world, echoes in forgetfulness. There remained in this silent world a great and pernicious formula, dangerous, forlorn.

The streets of the city teemed with police looking for crime. To keep the formula from repeating itself, two of the urban policemen bent and snatched it from the bush on which it had been growing, poised on the verge of differentiation, its unknowns about to take on values of grotesque proportion. As the few open spaces remaining in the city began closing in on themselves, the policemen released their grip. The formula, exhausted, fell to the sky, where it exploded into a million points and vectors of unspeakable abstraction.

To this day the celebration continues in minute and meaningless rites unnoticed but by those assigned to perform them.