Randall P. Donaldson is emeritus from Loyola University Maryland where he taught German language and literature in the Department of Modern Languages and Literatures for almost fifty years. He directed the Graduate Program in Liberal Studies at Loyola until its close in June 2020. Dr. Donaldson’s primary research interests are German-American Literary Relations, German immigration to the United States, and the life and culture of the Germans in Maryland. His recent work includes "William A. Potthast," in Immigrant Entrepreneurship: German-American Business Biographies, 1720 to the Present and the foreword to the 2015 reprint of Dieter Cunz’ The Maryland Germans.
commentary
Liberal Education amidst a Pandemic
Randall P. Donaldson, Loyola University Maryland
Commentaries are brief opinion pieces that are intended to introduce an idea or identify connections between works which beg for deeper investigation and analysis. Explicitly not an account of a research project or a comprehensive investigative endeavor, a Commentary in Confluence is a snapshot, a single moment from the initial encounter with an idea or connection that suggests possibilities for interrogation toward new understanding. The Commentary is an appeal to think about an idea, to consider a question, and to take up in earnest the possible conversation toward which the Commentary points.
In an opinion column of the Washington Post on September 8, 2020,[1] David von Drehle recalls a recent interaction with his college-age daughter as he drives her back to school at “a certain large Midwestern university” at the end of the Labor Day weekend.
Von Drehle and his daughter spent the journey reviewing her assignment for a Philosophy class, inspiring von Drehle to consider how the lessons of the past might have bearing on our response to the current situation in which we face the restrictions of a global pandemic. The assigned readings were from Seneca and Epictetus, but the point was not to raise up a paean to Stoicism. Rather, as von Drehle points out, the Stoics would not have us endure pain for its own sake; rather, they would help us understand to “take nothing for granted” and to make “the best of each moment.” In the course of the article von Drehle moves from Stoicism to the Serenity Prayer,[2] exhorting us all to deal with the situations which confront us with honest and integrity, while ignoring what we cannot change or control.
Von Drehle’s article has immediate relevance to the response we must all have to the current crisis, a response which requires that we weigh personal health considerations with concerns about the efficacy of online education and the ability of the technology to sufficiently address the needs of today’s students for a personal relationship with their instructors.
For a minute, let’s turn back the clock a few years. In late June 2013, at the high school graduation ceremony in Ocean City, NJ, the valedictory speaker exhorted his fellow graduates to put down their cell phones, take out their ear buds, and listen to the silence.[3] He urged self-examination independent of “statuses and likes.” It was a bold move for the young man to urge his peers to forsake their digital devices and spend some time with themselves, but his advice speaks to the conflict between information and knowledge in today’s world. The technological revolution has put information at our fingertips in abundance, but it hasn’t granted us greater wisdom or perspicacity. The melding of new information and prior knowledge must be the task of a liberal education.
The immediacy of information in the digital age is particularly problematic. Information is cheap and commands little respect in and of itself. What one needs to know, one can simply “google.” Of course, no one of us is immune to the urge to “google,” but for students of any age it can be pernicious. The “Google” learner, the person who is satisfied with the simple facts, the Wikipedia account of the world, fails to discern the relative importance of specific data; he or she is largely disengaged from the process. Information flows almost instantaneously from the ether to the cell phone, yet the recipient simply stores it or relays it to his or her fellows without reflection. Information is constantly changing and can be immediately accessed. The technological revolution has thus effectively negated the need for information acquisition, and knowledge isn’t far behind. Who needs to learn the how and why when a computer can do it for you?
In the classroom one can recognize the symptoms of the unnamed maladies described above. Students are singularly uncomfortable with broad-based assignments which allow them a certain latitude while demanding (of course) a degree of input from them. They find unstructured activities overwhelming. Yet the relatively ambiguous nature of an assignment can lead to increased engagement on the part of the learner. In her book Learning-Centered Teaching, Maryellen Weimar proposes seven principles of good pedagogy. Primary among them: “Teachers do less telling; Students do more discovering.”[4] She goes on to explain that, in addition to advancing the students’ knowledge, the decreased teacher presence increases the students’ autonomy and responsibility.[5]
Given that a liberal education should ideally “liberate” in the classic sense of that term, it exists to challenge students to see new things or to see old things in new ways. It is a possible key to ensuring the integration of new knowledge with prior knowledge. In this sense, a liberal education is crucial to both the student and the teacher in adjusting to the technological revolution(s) of the twenty-first century and the demands of Covid-19 restrictions.
Contemporary research in cognition and the philosophy of education tells us that our thoughts are organized around what we already know and what we have been exposed to through experience. Experience itself is mediated by the culture in which live. Our perception of the world, our values, our decisions and judgments are all structured by the people, beliefs, customs, traditions, and accumulated knowledge with which we have grown up. Most recently, Daniel Kahneman has reaffirmed the degree to which our ability to interpret new ideas and new experiences is shaped by what we already know or have learned. In Thinking, Fast and Slow,[6] the author recounts the results of decades of study of the cognitive basis of human error and the philosophy of decision-making.
The crux of Kahneman’s argument is evident in the title of his work. Intuitive or “fast” thinking is optimally adaptive for dealing effectively with many of the tasks and experiences of everyday life and with situations requiring an immediate response. This mode of thinking developed as a function of the brain’s effort to make consistent sense of the world and to allow us to respond effortlessly to much of our day-to-day experience without having to make conscious decisions about how to read a sentence, tie our shoe, change gears on our car, or prepare a sandwich. As for responding to unpredictable situations, whether it be a matter of survival against an outside threat or the need to react quickly to a new situation, automatic and intuitive thinking is essential to an individual’s ability to interact with his or her environment.
However, the work of Kahneman and his longtime collaborator Amos Tversky over many years consistently reveals that intuitive or fast responses are prone to error. The almost automatic action or decision which arises out of “fast thinking” is generally biased by preconceived, if subconscious, notions or stereotypes. Precisely because the intuitive response is based on past experience and accumulated knowledge, which are in turn structured by a person’s culture, it all but precludes the possibility of entertaining a new idea or point of view. Given the complexity of ideas and experiences that we all encounter in today’s world as technology feeds and facilitates an ever-expanding explosion of information, “fast thinking” is essential if society is to function. Yet rapid and spontaneous responses cannot account for the acquisition of new knowledge or the production of creative responses. Unfortunately “fast thinking” can be a constraint on learning when we seek to comprehend a truly new idea or to broaden or adjust our existing views. It impedes genuine dialogue because it is by its nature not open to new and creative alternate thoughts or actions. Fast thinking will likely lead an individual to defend his or her position without truly listening to others or digesting new ideas.
“Slow” or deliberate thinking, on the other hand, can lead to more openness to the point of view others offer. It can help us to break from the constraints of settled thought and free us to form new ideas. It allows us to view our own ideas and those of others critically. It has the potential to free us from blind adherence to traditional thought. It opens us to the possibility of finding new solutions to old problems, and it fosters original thought and creative compromise. It is in the development of this “slow thinking” that contemporary liberal education has an important role.
A liberal education can help to develop the cognitive tools to process, evaluate, assimilate, and accommodate information. It can help one engage with the material, learn to learn, and to discern what is valuable. Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Society of Jesus, believed that a habit of discernment would foster a lifetime of informed decision-making. Discernment is, in fact, a primary tenet of liberal Jesuit education.[7] In his “Spiritual Exercises,”[8] St. Ignatius brought together meditations, prayers, and contemplative practices to help people deepen their relationship with God. Initially meant to be carried out in a month-long retreat marked by silence and solitude, the underlying methodology of such a retreat was what Ignatius called “discernment of spirits,” or the interpretation of the fluctuation in one’s inner thoughts, imaginings, emotions, inclinations, desires, feelings, repulsions, and attractions. Spiritual discernment involves becoming sensitive to these movements, reflecting on them, and understanding where they come from and where they may lead us.
For Ignatius of Loyola, of course, the primary goal was to further an individual’s spiritual formation by transforming the manner in which he or she made decisions. The individual who can discern between good and bad spirits by stepping outside of learned experience and narrow self-interest to see situations as others might perceive them will be able to make informed independent decisions free of prejudice and hidebound opinion. That process leads to better choices and ultimately brings one closer to God. Ignatius also believed that a habit of discernment was essential to an individual’s intellectual development. A proper Jesuit education should, therefore, encourage a student to see beyond self and foster a lifetime of informed decision making. That freedom to explore and resolve personal truth is also the essence of liberal education.
Given the commitment of the Society of Jesus to education, discernment, as an essential element of liberal arts pedagogy, has become a primary tenet of Jesuit education. Critical thinking and the ability to express oneself in both speaking and writing are the tools of discernment, tools that can be taught in school and then serve one for a lifetime, personally and professionally. They are the tools that are developed in a liberal education. A liberal approach to education guides the student in the process of transforming and accommodating the new content (the subject of each course) by imparting knowledge in a way that insists that the student step back and, in the words of the young valedictorian in New Jersey, “listen to the silence.” Ignatian discernment thus provides a blueprint for a pedagogy which can nurture and encourage an independent critical assessment of new information which is necessary to free us from the tendency toward “fast thinking” in those instances where such thinking does not serve us well. The precise methodology will certainly vary from discipline to discipline, but at its base this new pedagogy demands assignments which ask the student to engage with received knowledge critically and skeptically. Students might be asked to critique a piece of published scholarship in a relevant field rather than simply read and accept its premises. Discussion in class needs to be a dialogue, an exchange of ideas, rather than a lecture ex cathedra; writing should be done in successive drafts, each subjected to review by peers as well as by the instructor. The structured thought, speech, and written expression that are components of this process force students to slow down their thought and open themselves to fresh critical consideration of new ideas and experiences.
Though many have begun to question the efficacy of a liberal education in a world which increasingly values information as a commodity to be monetized or a tool to be employed to achieve practical career-oriented ends, the value of an education in the tradition of the liberal arts serves a vital need in today’s internet-driven, information-rich world. Critical thinking and clear oral and written communication facilitate self-examination and reflection, habits of thought which enrich the individual in his or her humanity. They are also the instruments of slow thinking. The content of each course may provide the basis of a student’s knowledge, but unless that knowledge is imparted in a way that heightens a student’s analytical skills and his or her ability for introspection, the new information may not be incorporated with existing knowledge. A liberal education seeks to offer both breadth and depth in courses linked to each other by the liberal arts tradition of intellectual rigor and eloquent expression. It challenges students to slow down, to think deeply, and to view experiences and ideas through a critical and creative lens. It teaches the student to be a discerning and active learner. It provides intellectual and developmental tools that can be taught in the academy yet will serve one for a lifetime, personally and professionally.
Now to return to the counter-revolution mentioned at the onset. The young man in question framed his advice in a contemporary metaphor, but at its foundation his challenge embodies both the potential and the promise of a liberal education in today’s world. While the technology that is ubiquitous today removes most of the barriers to gaining direct and almost instantaneous access to information, it provides no assistance in integrating what is gathered into true, personal understanding. Factual information may garner respect from others and may help land a well-paying job, but it does not impart wisdom or foster the ability to make solid independent decisions based on deep understanding of ideas. A liberal education can help to develop the cognitive tools that allow students to process, evaluate, assimilate, and accommodate information. It can help them to develop a structure for “slow thinking” and a habit of discerning the value of new ideas and experiences without slavish adherence to prior knowledge and experience. The lessons involved can be taught or learned either face-to-face or remotely. Although the current situation is not ideal, we all need to keep the exhortations of the Serenity Prayer in view and engage in the intellectual discourse of the classroom in whatever form, where we can control the outcome, rather than lament the limitations imposed by a virus over which we have little or no control.
Notes
[1] Accessed September 13, 2020.
[2] The Serenity Prayer is a prayer written by the American theologian Reinhold Niebuhr (1892–1971). It is commonly quoted as:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference.
[3] “Class of 2013 Looks to the Future,” Ocean City Gazette, June 26, 2013.
[4] Maryellen Weimer, Learning-Center Teaching: Five Key Changes to Practice, second edition (San Francisco, Jossey-Bass, 2013), 83.
[5] Ibid., 102.
[6] Daniel Kahneman, Thinking, Fast and Slow (New York, Farrar, Strauss and Giroux, 2011).
[7] Full disclosure here: The author spent forty-eight years at Loyola College, later Loyola University Maryland, and has perforce become a student of Jesuit principles. Ignatian (Jesuit) thought informed the Liberal Studies curriculum, in particular, at Loyola, until the program’s demise in June 2020.
[8] Ignatius of Loyola, Spiritual Exercises (London, 2012) [a recent modern edition].
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