Friday, 9 January 2015
Education and geography
I’ve reviewed two recent books that all geographers and tourism geographers concerned with education should read:
Alex Standish’s ‘The False Promise of Global Learning: Why Education Needs Boundaries’ looks the rise of ‘global’ education. Within geography, at both school and University, ‘global perspectives’ are presented as a progressive development. Standish argues convincingly that the global agenda carries with it some worrying features. Firstly, he shows that geographical knowledge has been downplayed in favour of discussions of morality and global citizenship. The latter are certainly no bad thing in and of themselves, but Standish argues that solid geographical knowledge as a basis for citizenship and moral decisions is neglected – without it (and all too often this is the case) moral discussions become moralising.
This, by the way, is all too evident in writing and teaching around the tourism industry in geography and tourism studies, long characterised by a preachy, green emphasis on how to be a good ‘ethical’ tourist.
Also, global citizenship – an aspiration that when invoked is hard to argue with – sees people’s agency in relation to ‘global issues’,addressed by global (and unaccountable) NGOs. Accountable national governments - where we can vote and exercise democracy – are bypassed by the globalisation of citizenship. Global citizenship bypasses politics too in a sense. Standish quotes Heilman: ‘[C]osmopolitan global citizenship … seeks to shift authority from the local to the national community, to a world community that is a loose network of international organisations and subnational political actors not bound within a clear democratic constitutional framework’ (p. 66).
Standish also shows how the global agenda, whilst usefully addressing the issues of cultural differences across boundaries, mostly adopts a cultural relativism. Other cultures are considered with sensitivity, but are defined by their differences. This is often expressed in terms of ‘respect’ for these cultures. Standish is not arguing against the often admirable personal quality of respect for the views of others. Rather, he is arguing that what is being respected is difference, and only rarely commonality of aspiration. This rings true for me. Look at so many commentaries on green development, voluntourism projects etc. – most often other cultures are valued for their relationship to nature rather than people’s ability or aspiration to transform that relationship in pursuit of development.
Standish looks critically at the tendency in global citizenship education to personalise social problems, which are often approached through the question ‘what would / could you do?’ Personal responsibility in the face of major global threats is a common theme. In challenging this Standish invokes the analysis of Elizabeth Lasch-Quinn who argued that in the American Civil Rights Movement during the 1970s desired social change came to be viewed through the prism of individual identity in a fashion that diminished politics. Again, this rings true. With the growth of ethical consumption, charity challenges and voluntourism (currently quite a hot topic for human geographers as attendees at recent AAG and RGS annual conferences may know) ‘making a difference’ is rarely seen as what we as a society should do and more often as a personal project.
The second book of note is ‘Consuming Higher Education: Why Learning Can't be Bought’ by Joanna Williams. Many have written about the effects of marketisation on Universities in recent decades, but this is the most convincing analysis of the changing character of University education. Drawing upon historical experience in the USA and the UK, Williams shows that the construction of the ‘student as consumer’has much less to do with the introduction of fees per se, and more to do with the way Universities try to mould themselves around the prior abilities, preconceptions about and feelings of students. University departments spend far more time talking about the ‘student experience’ - league tables, marking ‘turnaround’times, student friendly forms of assessment and a general deference to the student in the name of being ‘student centred’ - than they do about their subject. I try to attend as many academic seminars as I can as they serve to remind me of what I was trained for and what a University should be about, but in the daily life of many of us these are dwarfed by discussions focused on ‘managing the student journey’ and similar mantras.
Williams challenges the role Universities can and should have in promoting extrinsic agendas such as social inclusion. Universities are not society, nor are they a branch of social work – they are ill suited to the task of promoting ‘inclusion’. They are suited to the passing on of a society’s intellectual heritage to the next generation. Once acquired, students can challenge, transcend or build upon that heritage, but it needs to be at the centre of the University’s mission. Where knowledge is instrumental to the resolution of social problems, knowledge suffers and so, ultimately, does society.
An interesting angle in Williams’ book is that she takes on the Left’s view that University fees are terrible and that neoliberalism is being imposed upon otherwise progressive educational system. Educational radicals and progressives have been vociferous in opposing fees, but acquiescent towards or even at the forefront of promoting the‘student first’ (but subject knowledge second) outlook that Williams shows is far more fundamental in diminishing the potential of the University. Fees are only a symptom of the retreat from knowledge into experience.
Overall, Williams explains that the current malaise in education is the product of an unwillingness to prioritise the passing on the best of what is thought and known to the next generation. You can buy an experience but, as Williams says in her title, ‘learning can’t be bought’. Both books describe trends that stem from an uncertainty over what education is for today, and what it can do. Both books offer optimistic alternatives that prioritise knowledge and its capacity to transform people into critical subjects and expert problem solvers. This is a worthy ambition for geography or any other field or discipline.
Refs:
Joanna Williams. 2012. Consuming Higher Education: Why Learning Can't be Bought. Bloomsbury
Alex Standish. 2012. The False Promise of Global Learning: Why Education Needs Boundaries. Continuum