News, Views and Careers for All of Higher Education
April 25
We have besides these men descended by blood from our ancestors-among us perhaps half our people who are not descendants at all of these men, … if they look back through this history to trace their connection with those days by blood, they find they have none, … but when they look through that old Declaration of Independence they find that those old men say that We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, and then they feel that moral sentiment taught in that day evidences their relation to those men, that it is the father of all moral principle in them, and that they have a right to claim it as though they were blood of blood, and flesh of the flesh of the men who wrote that Declaration, and so they are.
—Abraham Lincoln, Speech in Chicago, 1858
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What does it mean to be an American citizen?
From all the heat generated of late over immigration, one might have supposed that some light would have been cast on this crucial question. Given the need to elevate our national dialogue over this issue, it is disheartening that this has yet to happen. It appears that the idea that is American citizenship is all but lost on America’s citizens themselves. Here our universities can be of invaluable assistance, through introducing their students to the perennial questions and issues that define American democratic theory and practice.
Any attempt to perform this task ought to begin at the beginning, with the very justification for our existence as a country—the Declaration of Independence. Its claims are meant to be universal, addressed not only to King George III, but to a “candid world.” The Declaration argues that, in the new American order, blood, creed, and national origin—the constituents of citizenship throughout history—have been dethroned. Instead, U.S. citizenship entails adherence to moral and political principles the truth of which, says the Declaration, is “self-evident” to those who reason rightly. These principles, which form what can be called the “American theory of justice,” argue for human equality; for the inalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; for government established by popular consent; and for the right of the people to rebel should government cease to fulfill the purposes for which it was instituted. On this basis, the United States is more than a mere address, more than its history, and more than its demographics. It is, in its essence, an idea.
Yet how many of us today, native-born no less than newly arrived immigrants, can recount the Declaration’s four self-evident truths? More crucial, how many of us have even a rudimentary grasp of the moral and intellectual foundations of the “American theory of justice”? For years, surveys have told us that the answer to both questions is precious few. This cannot help but alarm those of us who believe, with the Declaration’s author, Thomas Jefferson, that no nation can expect to be “both ignorant and free.” But neither should we be surprised at the surveys’ results, says Derek Bok. The former president of Harvard University argues in his recent book, Our Underachieving Colleges, that American higher education is not providing the democratic or civic education on which he and Jefferson deem democratic health to depend.
Bok’s title conveys an unhappy thesis: Our universities are underperforming on a number of fronts, one of which is preparing students for citizenship. He laments the fact that most colleges today do not require even an introductory course in American government, the result of which, according to Department of Education statistics, is that only one-third of undergraduates ever complete such a course. He is yet more concerned about why this might be the case, citing Carol Schneider, president of the Association of American Colleges and Universities, who reports that “after five years of active discussions on dozens of campuses ... I have been persuaded that there is not just a neglect of but a resistance to college-level study of United States democratic principles.”
With such a paucity of college courses, concerns over the Americanization of newly arrived immigrants need also to take account of the fact that native-born citizens are nearly equally challenged at “becoming American,” that is, at the task of understanding the principles that established and largely continue to define this country. Even those born in America are failing to become American in this, the deepest sense.
While university-bashing has become something of a cottage industry of late, this is not my intention. As a former dean and provost, I know too well that today’s colleges and universities face a multitude of challenges that are little understood by those outside academe. My intent is, rather, to persuade our universities that they will be the first to benefit from requiring that all their students undertake the serious study of the character and foundations of American democracy.
Having spent the bulk of the last quarter-century teaching in universities, I am convinced that the overwhelming majority of professors choose their profession for the very best of reasons—out of the conviction they share with Socrates that “the unexamined life is not worth living for a human being.” Not the desire for wealth or fame, but the desire for knowledge, unites the professoriate at its best.
Socrates also argues that our quest for knowledge of the whole cannot take place in a vacuum. It requires that we simultaneously examine our act of examining. That is to say, it requires that we study the context in which we pursue the life of rational inquiry. This is why Socrates turned away from the study of what today is called the “natural sciences” solely and toward the “human things,” politics chief among them. Simply put, the particular study of the intellectual and moral foundations of the American republic is not merely an exercise in antiquarianism or filial piety, but rather an essential element in our pursuit of knowledge of the whole of existence. As such, it is no less essential that, like Socrates, we share the fruits of our inquiry with our students.
This is not to deny, but to place in perspective, Bok’s lesser yet legitimate point that, because our universities benefit from tax exemptions and federal financial aid, they have a duty to provide civic education as part of their claim to providing a public good. On this point, a New York Times essay published last year, “Revisiting the Canon Wars,” reminds us how Bok’s thesis echoes in some respects the late Allan Bloom’s commentary on Alexis de Tocqueville, which takes the form of a sub-chapter in Bloom’s 1987 best-seller, The Closing of the American Mind. Bok’s title, itself, Our Underachieving Colleges, is reminiscent of Bloom’s subtitle: How Higher Education Has Failed Democracy and Impoverished the Souls of Today’s Students. Of course, no one would equate Bok with Bloom. For this very reason, we need to give both a hearing. When educators who are otherwise so different agree on so critical a point, it suggests that we owe it to ourselves to examine their arguments earnestly.
Bloom elaborates on Tocqueville’s insights into modern democracy and the importance of the university within it. In Democracy in America, Tocqueville argues that, in the marketplace of free and equal citizens, the opinion of the majority takes on a power previously unimaginable, threatening us with a new form of despotism: “soft” despotism, which is not imposed by force but rather submitted to almost without being noticed. In the absence of any authority outside the majority, it becomes nearly impossible for the solitary democratic “individual” to conceive of ways of life contrary to those esteemed in popular opinion. We own the power of Tocqueville’s diagnosis when we reflect on the immense power public opinion surveys hold over us today. This hold hinders the development of intellectual freedom, the sine qua non of the “examined life.” If such freedom is not to be swallowed whole by democratic conformism, what is to be done?
In this, American higher education, and perhaps it alone, has both the obligation and the privilege to play the role of liberator. Part and parcel of democratic conformism is its unending thralldom to the demands of commerce and utility. This is understandable. The Founders and their intellectual forefathers — Locke, Montesquieu, and Bacon, among them — understood these demands to be important to ensuring individual liberty and domestic tranquility, as well as prosperity. A people whose government limited itself largely to physical security and material comfort (the “relief of man’s estate,” as Bacon has it) would be less likely to fall prey to the civil strife that had devastated Europe and caused many of its inhabitants to immigrate to the new American colonies in the first place.
But this very focus on utility, so valuable from the perspective of domestic peace, tends ineluctably to lower our gaze from attention to the highest and deepest — what some would call the truly human — questions, e.g., “What is a noble life and how might I achieve it?”
In short, our democracy urgently requires asylum from the merely urgent. It needs a place where it can transcend, for a time, its endemic attention to narrowly practical concerns in order to ask the most important questions, the questions whose examination, says Socrates, makes life worth living. Our universities, armed with intellectual courage and shielded by academic freedom, can help us declare our independence from the tyranny of utility and the seductions of conformism.
To establish such an education, the professoriate must dare to tread territory still scorched from the campus “culture wars” of recent decades and revisit the discussion of a required core curriculum. To do this, perhaps we can begin by agreeing that there are at least certain core questions that all students should examine. Here, I offer a half-dozen, along with some of their ancillaries.
First, what is the meaning of human equality as articulated in the Declaration’s assertion that “all men are created equal”? Equal in what respects? What view of human nature does this presuppose? Does the Declaration mean to include African-Americans, as Abraham Lincoln, along with Frederick Douglass and the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., insisted?
Second, what does the Declaration mean by asserting that we possess rights that are not “alienable”? Who or what, precisely, cannot alienate our rights? Are all rights deemed inalienable, or only some? And why?
Third, why does the Founding generation consider government just only when it is instituted by the consent of the governed? Is justice for the Founders merely consent-based? If not, what might trump consent?
Fourth, why did the Founders opt for representative democracy over the “pure” version of democracy practiced in ancient Athens? What did The Federalist (penned by Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay) assert was the inadequacy of ancient democracy?
Fifth, how does the Constitution seek to reconcile democracy, which means rule by the majority, with the rights of minorities? Stated differently, how do we do justice both to the equality of all and to the liberty of each?
Sixth, and finally, what economic conditions make American democracy possible? Why does the Constitution protect property rights? Why do its critics, such as Marx, believe private property to be the root of injustice? How would Madison and Hamilton have responded to Marx’s and his followers’ critique?
Implicit in these questions are at least ten fundamental documents and major speeches that every American citizen should study. The questions regarding the meaning of human equality, inalienable rights, popular consent, and the right of revolution clearly require an examination of the Declaration, along with Frederick Douglass’s “The Meaning of the Fourth of July to the Negro,” and Chief Justice Taney’s infamous opinion for the majority in the Dred Scott case (where Taney denies that African-Americans have any rights that whites are bound to respect). Against Taney, Frederick Douglass’s and Lincoln’s scathing critiques of the Dred Scott opinion need to be taught.
The Declaration needs also to be scrutinized in its relation to the pro-woman’s-suffrage, 1848 Seneca Falls “Declaration of Sentiments and Resolutions” and the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech, delivered on the National Mall in 1963. Why did Elizabeth Cady Stanton look to the form and substance of the Declaration of Independence in crafting the Seneca Falls Declaration? What did the Reverend King mean by asserting that the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution constituted a “promissory note to which every American was to fall heir”?
The Constitution, of course, must be taught to our students. As both critics and admirers of the Constitution agree, there is no more authoritative commentary on that document than The Federalist, the series of 85 newspaper essays defending and explaining the Constitution, written during the period that the states were debating its ratification. Specifically, the questions regarding representation, minority rights, and the economics of democracy require examination of the Constitution and The Federalist, along with Theodore and Franklin Roosevelt’s writings and speeches on economic democracy.
Finally, for reasons already articulated, all students need to be introduced both to Tocqueville’s defense of democratic equality and to his concerns over the intellectual conformism to which American democracy lies exposed.
Needless to say, these questions are not exhaustive; others should be added. (Professor Gary D. Glenn’s syllabus for his “Democracy in America” course at Northern Illinois University is the deepest and broadest that I have yet to find.) But my chief point is that these questions and concomitant sources are necessary to any attempt to educate our students in American citizenship. They begin to focus our attention on the deepest issues regarding “Americanism.”
To this end, there may in fact be something of a ferment already under way to establish new college programs providing civic education. Here I refer to the recent growth of faculty initiatives to establish disciplinary and multi-disciplinary programs of civic education. Among these is Princeton’s Madison Program, which sponsors courses on the American Founding, statesmanship, and political philosophy;, organizes conferences on the foundations of constitutional government; and hosts a regular forum for undergraduates to discuss the philosophy, history, and institutional structures of democracy. Similar programs and measures, tailored to institutional missions and faculty strengths, recently have sprung up at Georgetown, Williams, The University of Virginia, the University of Texas at Austin, Dartmouth, and Colgate, among others.
While some will be encouraged by this development, others will point to the “ghetto-izing” of a subject the study of which should be required of all students, regardless of major. But neither this concern, nor a related worry over the bulky machinery of Center-building should blind otherwise sympathetic faculty and administrators to the fact of just how easily and inexpensively (in comparison to so many other subjects) such a course as I propose could be implemented: the texts themselves are all available in paperback, and professors across the humanities and social sciences all have the intellectual background to teach them. As for pedagogical approach, a discussion-focused seminar of approximately twenty students accomplishes the desired objectives nicely. Moreover, this initial, required seminar could spawn a series of seminars focusing on other great questions/issues, and could culminate in a capstone course reflecting the particular strengths and mission of each institution.
Again, as a former dean and provost, I know that any effort to change the curriculum is always a bumpy ride. Yet, we have a better chance of completing such an odyssey when we recognize that the questions constituting the core of my proposal for democratic education spring not from mystical, filial piety but, rather, from the requirements of the Socratic life to which we academics have committed ourselves. Filial piety is contrary to the rational inquiry to which universities at their best are devoted. It also is contrary to what the Founders intended. The Declaration’s appeal to a “candid world” makes no demands based on faith, or tradition, or blood lines. Instead, it asks us to reason about—to argue with—its assertions that equality and liberty are the grounds of justice. The Founders offer this invitation to free debate hoping, perhaps even expecting, that the world would come to see the reasonableness of their claims.
Through instructing our students in the questions that I have outlined, we continue the debate proposed by the Founders. Socrates argues that human goodness, at its peak, may well consist primarily in investigating the question, “What is human goodness?” Socrates taught Plato, who in turn taught Aristotle. In his Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle honors both Plato and Socrates when he takes Plato to task: “Plato is dear to me,” writes his best student, “but dearer still is truth.” In a like manner, we pay tribute to the Founders when we subject their radical reinterpretation of citizenship to the most searching scrutiny. But such tribute is far from filial piety. It is, instead, the quest demanded by the desire to know ourselves.
For the sake of the integrity of both our universities and our politics — for our citizens both newly arrived and native-born — let us begin this quest, and let us do so in the civil, fair-minded, and magnanimous manner that defines university life at its noblest.
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Lindsay makes many compelling points in this essay and AAC&U’s President Carol Schneider has written eloquently and extensively on this point not only in the article both Derek Bok and Lindsay quote. Schneider and her colleagues at AAC&U (where I also work) have made many recommendations about how important it is for all college students to study the founding documents and history of American democracy in order to prepare them for their own roles in a diverse democracy. In a more recent article Schneider wrote in the Winter 2006 issue of Liberal Education (http://www.aacu.org/liberaleducation/le-wi06_president), she notes that “students ought to study democratic aspirations themselves, as well as diverse struggles for equality and justice. Citizens need this context to better understand the struggle for full equality that still continues, in our democracy and around the world.” AAC&U has also made the point—most recently in its newest publication, Civic Engagement at the Center—that studying democracy and diversity only “theoretically” is also insufficient. As early as 1995, AAC&U made a recommendation as part of its American Commitments initiative that all students should gain “experiences in justice seeking.” As Schneider puts it in her 2006 Liberal Education article, students should have in college “direct experiences, in the community, with systemic efforts (e.g. by existing community groups) to remove barriers to justice and opportunity and to redress inequities.” While Lindsay is certainly correct that we have much more work to do in teaching students about the core theoretical questions at the heart of the American experiment in democracy, there are promising programs at all different kinds of colleges and universities providing students with both the theory and practice of American democracy. We should build on these examples to spread this learning to more students. Our shared futures surely depend on our doing this more successfully.
Debra Humphreys, VP for Communications and Public Affairs at AAC&U, at 9:30 am EDT on April 25, 2008
Texas is a state that requires college and university students to take courses in government. However, I am not convinced that graduates of Texas colleges and universities have any more knowledge of the Constitution, the principles of democracy, or the workings of government than college and university graduates in states where government courses are not required. It may be that the problem posed by the author of this article is either not a problem that needs to be solved or, if it is a problem, it is more likely a problem of American society and thus larger than the educational system. Many critics of American society are prone to blame what they define as wrong on either K-12 or higher education. There may be problems in the U.S.; if so, I am fairly certain they have not been caused by failures in the educational institution nor will they be solved by manipulating the curriculum.
Jerry Shepperd, at 12:40 pm EDT on April 25, 2008
Dr. Lindsay’s research could not be more spot-on, nor could his assertion that all American students need to be grounded in the essentials of citizenship. This has nothing to do with politics and everything to do with our health as a nation, our respect for the law, and our understanding of how we got here and why the selfless sacrifice of our Founders and soldiers — physical and intellectual — has been so important. Our Constitution has been an amazingly resilient document. Despite the challenges we face each day, there is a reason our nation and our way of life remain such a beacon for so many around the world. Dr. Lindsay has done a service bringing this out so eloquently. One can only hope that teachers and college professors will give it a serious look. Nothing less than our legacy depends on it.
David, at 4:55 pm EDT on April 25, 2008
The most rewarding courses in the two graduate programs (MBA, Humanities) that I have participated in have been Plato’s Republic, Aristotle’s Nichomachean Ethics and his Politics. Not only is the past prologue, but it is also essential for present day public discourse on democratic principles. In Lindsay’s article, Becoming American, he has wisely pointed out the necessary questions that would promote active intellectual discourse focusing on civic issues and political inquiry.
More importantly, the absence of a strong educational curriculum dealing with the political history of the United States ensures a perpetuation of the ignorance of core traditional American values and ideals. As Lindsay urges, a reversal of this unfortunate trend is a goal worthy of pursuing in a serious way. After all, how are immigrants to understand American democratic principles when the citizens themselves lack knowledge of such basic principles of freedom and equality? Lindsay’s host of subjects that include the Declaration, the Constitution, The Federalist, as well as representative men such as Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, and Dr. Martin Luther King are, indeed, necessary for a solid foundational democratic education.
Aristotle once said that a citizen may not need to be an actual office-holder. The good person may turn down office to pursue intellectual activities, but one must have a deliberative share in his/her own city. One cannot have the shame of having its laws chosen for him/her. Without civic education, we might as well amass some statistics, take a poll, and collectively call that a choice of political preference. It is much harder and much more strenuous to reason and deliberate about serious political and social problems. What is worth the efforts of civic guidance is to promote a continuous dialogue regarding “the good life,” “the quest demanded by the desire to know ourselves,” and the awareness that making good choices will enhance and strengthen the very democratic principles we wish for our future generations.
Mary DiMaria, University of Dallas, at 5:55 am EDT on April 27, 2008
I first heard the praises of Dr, Lindsay sung some twenty years ago and met him about ten years after that. I recently had the pleasure of an extended meeting with him and at my request he gave a talk on this very topic to a higher education association to which I belong. I believe that his argument is altogether sound as well as graceful and that the need for corrective action is urgent as well as vital. I am struck by the comments made so far and want to add mine. The work that Kate reports doing sounds to me just the sort of thing that wants doing and the comments of David seem on the right track, although I will have a reservation to make in a moment as to one remark. I have some larger reservations regarding the remarks of Debra Humphreys and Jerry Shepperd. Ms. Humphreys seems to mean to praise or support Lindsay but what she says may land a bit to one side of his argument. To talk about students pressing for “full equality” suggests that she may misunderstand the Declaration. The Committee of Congress that drafted the Declaration was not composed of people who thought that human beings were simply equal in all respects—equally wise, equally swift, equally beautiful—nor that they were entitled to equal shares of good things. They meant only that they were equal IN THAT they were “endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights.” By the way, the characterization of some rights as “unalienable” reminds us that many rights which may be said to be had in what Hobbes called “a condition of mere nature” are of course alienable. When the Declaration says that “to secure these rights governments are instituted among men,” its principal author, Thomas Jefferson likely had this in mind. He surely did not mean that to secure these rights the “condition of mere nature” had to be assured permanance for as Hobbes made plain, in that condition everyone “had a right to everything, even to one another’s bodies” for that is what made that condition a war of every man against every man where “life is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” “Civil rights” are not identical with “human rights” (an expression not found in the Declaration). Civil rights are those established by civil society and they are only the ones consistent with civil society. Further when Ms. Humphreys suggests that students should gain experience in justice seeking and in removing barriers to justice, she sounds a bit like those posters up an down campus hallways urging students to “get involved.” I think what Lindsay has in mind is that students should get understanding. To press students to get down to the business of justice seeking is to presuppose that they know what justice is. Of course they do. One does not have to study or think. One just “knows” what justice is. One knows because one FEELS. To be ardent is to be right. Don’t bother to study. Just get on with managing other people’s lives. The purpose of a college education is to turn everyone into “activists” without even entertaining the question as to what the qualifications are for activism. Such folk are those we used to call “busybodies.” I hope I am mistaken about Ms. Humphreys. Perhaps she knows all these things I just said and merely for the sake of brevity left them all out of her remarks. As for Jerry Shepperd, however, I am pretty confident that he is quite mistaken. He says the problem is not the schools’ fault. Only the last ten years of my career were spent in Defense Department colleges. For the greater part of fifty years I have been teaching political philosophy and American constitutional law in mainstream colleges and universities and I find that a sizable portion of the the faculty are themselves ignorant of the underlying principles of the American political order and insofar as they teach them they show them to their students through a glass darkly. A small minority of faculty who have made a genuine and open-minded study of the country’s founding and enduring principles are in their efforts to teach their students compelled first to free the Augean stables their minds have become of the revisionist—one may almost say post-modern—calumny that had its birthings a hundred years ago in the writings of J. Allen Smith and then Charles A. Beard. A great and widespread effort must be made by schools and by friends of schools and country to restore serious study of the past that does not begin with pompous and fatuous self-assurance of the rightness of our present prejudices, our “feelings” of moral outrage rooted in an easy sense of moral superiority. Which brings me back to David’s comments. He says “we can only hope.” That won’t do. Just five years short of five centuries ago, Machiavelli reminded us that fortune is the arbiter of only half of our affairs. Not hope, but sweat, is what is now needed.
Dick Stevens
Richard G. Stevens, Retired Professor at National Defense University, at 5:20 pm EDT on April 27, 2008
Dr. Lindsay issues a much-needed call for American higher education to take seriously its obligation to prepare its students for reflective, and hence responsible, citizenship. America is committed to a variety of genuine but imperfectly compatible goods: democratic self-government, equality, and indidivual freedom. Understanding the tensions among these goods, the Founders sought to devise a complex system of government that could render them tolerably compatible, or that could balance their competing claims. Despite their undeniable care, and even their genius, in framing this system, it is of the nature of such a composite that it cannot be perpetuated automatically, without the thoughtful effort of committed citizens. Dr. Lindsay is therefore correct to suggest that America’s citizens, and especially those who attend college and will therefore have greater opportunities for leadership, need to be educated in the principles underlying America’s government and in the great historic debates over the meaning of these principles and what they require of us. Indeed, we can go further and suggest (as I think Dr. Lindsay’s piece implies) that a complete democratic education requires that students be educated in the tradition of Western political thought itself, including even the most penetrating criticisms of democracy. Such an education is a necessary first step to enabling students to think critically and independently about their own way of life and their country’s. This in turn is essential to a reasonable and effective cititzenship that is not rendered powerless to promote the good because it is blinded by the prejudices of the day.
Carson Holloway, Assistant Professor of Political Science at University of Nebraska at Omaha, at 11:15 am EDT on April 28, 2008
I completely agree with the author. Civic education is vital in this country. The article makes profound and wide ranging observations. The Declaration of Independence is precisely the right place to begin this discussion.
Michael Pack, at 3:15 pm EDT on April 28, 2008
Thomas Lindsay articulates a strong case for a return to civic education and a serious study of the American founding in our educational institutions. As a high school educator, I would appreciate seeing his recommendations come to fruition in the K-12 curriculum as well. We cannot begin too early to instill in our children the importance of a foundational understanding of our nation’s political principles. So I must respectfully disagree with the spirit of Jerry Shepherd’s comments. Sure, Texas students take courses in Government (as students do in most states), but are these courses really the kind of curriculum Thomas Lindsay is proponing? Also, even if the failure of our citizenry to appreciate our democratic beginnings is not due to education, why shouldn’t our schools try to rectify that failure? The best educators are unwilling to shift the blame or the burden onto other cultural forces or institutions. Thomas Lindsay is correct that a renewal of citizenship education must begin with a re-evalution of our curriculum toward a deeper and more serious engagement with the American founding.
Rob Schebel, at 9:50 pm EDT on April 28, 2008
Throughout my present career as a student attending the University of Alabama, I have felt on several occasions that my fellow students have long since given up the debates which initiated the American Revolution and the subsequent founding of our nation. The concepts which led to the creation of the United States were, at one time, topics that held no complete conclusions and therefore were the subjects of much talk among the people. However, today we live in a country where these values are taken for granted, so to speak. Around campus, and including the classroom, these concepts are not truly questioned or even examined in great detail. Dr. Lindsay’s views as expressed above make me wish a professor would open a class to scrutinize and discuss this content. Unfortunately, this type of subject matter is lacking in today’s college world, and is still not properly studied in high schools. His arguments are strong and are, more importantly, a call to action. I hope that universities across America heed this petition and seek to form the pupils they educate accordingly since we are more than simply students, but citizens. If we, as citizens of the nation, enjoy the freedoms that came from ethical debate and yet do not understand the debate, how can we hope to propagate and defend those liberties? Through a series of educational processes, the average college student could become better versed with the ideals of our founders, and consequently a more personal experience with the ethics at hand. Thank you, Dr. Lindsay for your beautiful examination of the issue!
Stephen Escobar, Perfect!, at 12:40 am EDT on April 29, 2008
When Lindsay calls for the need for all university students to “undertake the serious study of the character and foundations of American democracy,” he calls for more than a reform in curriculum, he calls for a reform in pedagogy itself. And this reform, it seems to me, can only take place when we can learn and then practice — in what can pass for our collective consciousness – national appetites that reach higher than individual rights and liberties based on consumption. These higher virtues, I’d like to call them, can only be taught and learned (with all due respect to Mr. Shepperd), and there is no more critical need for a country such as ours — a collection of seemingly infinite classes and creeds — to be called, as a whole, to its higher nature in order to conduct itself with mutual respect and concern. Lindsay’s “core questions” give a wonderful entrée into some of the important issues that need to be analyzed and explored in order for us to begin to understand the nature of the political ideals that may provide the only access to a national identity available to such a diverse people. And in spite of the small-mindedness that results from the bureaucracy foisted upon our beleaguered high school teachers, and in spite of the unattractive posturing of cynical disdain that depletes the moral energy in many of our university professors, it is through our classrooms that we will collectively learn these virtues that Lindsay speaks of as rising robustly from our founding documents. To educate a whole people was never an easy project, and now it is more challenging still. Perhaps we should start by rejecting the tired yet still-popular notions disallowing us from engaging in open and honest inquiry and that require, instead, that we choose a battleground, like constant adversaries, to staunchly defend our cause. But this kind of openness will require teachers and professors, themselves, to recover or discover a sense of higher things, among them, the “self evident” and “inalienable rights” for which our Declaration pleads.
Claudia Allums, Director of the Teachers Academy at The Dallas Institute of Humanities and Culture, at 10:25 am EDT on April 29, 2008
I find provocative and sobering Prof. Lindsay’s suggestion that “the United States is more than a mere address, more than its history, and more than its demographics. It is, in its essence, an idea.” Combining the idea of America with the key images of its cultural artifacts, one might speak also of the American myth, the “word” given to the Founders that set us on our course, or trajectory, in history. Prof. Lindsay gives us a profound sense of what that trajectory appears to have been and a troubling reminder that we the people can fail to maintain it. Having spent 20 years in the academy and the last 12 in the non-profit educational sector of a major U.S. city, I can attest to the public aftermath of the current failure on the part of colleges and universities to consider seriously the intellectual task of “becoming American.” The “tyranny of utility and seductions of conformism” begin to take serious hold following college graduation, and if graduates have not been initiated into the rigors of the “examined life” (with its inimitable labors and pleasures) and led to grapple with such key texts as Prof. Lindsay puts forward, it’s not easily that those habits or that substance will be discovered in the extramural world. For the demands of utility and conformism are, especially in our age of relative ease, met by a third temptation: entertainment, from which nothing of lasting worth or measurable depth issues that would serve to advance our understanding of the American “idea.”
Larry Allums, Executive Director at The Dallas Institute, at 10:35 am EDT on April 29, 2008
Thomas Lindsay’s eloquent and learned plea for civic education is a timely reminder that there are issues and subjects that need to be part of the the curriculum, particularly in an era when so many American college students do not read newspapers, get their political news from cynical comedy shows, and are less and less apt to read anything beyond what is assigned in a class (if that). Even our best students are often so focused on pre-professional courses and knowledge that they skimp or avoid confronting issues of democratic citizenship. Faculties that rightfully insist that students should learn a foreign language or understand the nature of scientific research or mathematical reasoning need to recognize the importance of exposing them to arguments about democratic citizenship.
Harvey Klehr, Emory University, at 2:45 pm EDT on April 29, 2008
There is a simple solution to the problems of re-focusing higher education on training an informed citizenry: supplementing curriculum with civic service-learning.
I head up the Constitutional Sources Project, a 501©(3) non-profit public charity which has built ConSource, an online library of the Founders’ documents relating to the Constitution.
We have built ConSource with much help from qualified college and law students who have helped us to proofread, collect bibliographic information, and cross-reference documents to the Constitution for course credit.
While this process keeps costs down (think many free research assistants), it also gives students an opportunity to learn about civic responsibility from those who were masters at it — the Founders — by reading their documents.
Our pilot program is now in its fourth semester of operation and been highly successful. Students greatly enjoy coming to know the Founders on a very personal basis In this capacity, and simultaneously provide a great service. This service-learning constitutes 30% of their overall grade.
I would recommend to other professors interested in teaching their students about civic involvement to incorporate similar service-learning opportunities, where students learn about civic involvement by doing it.
Lorianne Updike, President & Executive Director at The Constitutional Sources Project, at 3:00 pm EDT on April 29, 2008
Professor Lindsay offers a profound alternative to the shallow, albeit well-intentioned effort called forth by Derek Bok, who was perhaps best known during his Harvard presidency for bolstering the university’s community service efforts —rather than the highest standards of liberal education. Lindsay’s call is all the more urgent in our era of instant communications when the truly important questions are often lost in the haze of the here and now.
Citizenship in our constitutional democracy means far more than mere voting or paying attention to the media. It requires seeing a median between mere self-interest and utopianism, qualities at times lost in our commercial age, which itself has spawned an idealism often distant and disrespectful of the forms and formalities of republican government. The education Lindsay proposes is a cure for these excesses and the first of many steps toward restoring a healthy polity. It is far more serious than the saccharin approach Bok champions.
Ken, at 4:15 pm EDT on April 29, 2008
Dr. Lindsay has hit the nail on the head. As the universities bestow degree after degree upon people who can tell you where Kazakhstan is located, but cannot tell you the author of the Declaration of Independence, let alone its contents. Exposure of students to the founding documents at our institutions of higher education may not be end solution to the situation in which intellectuals now find themselves, but it is certainly a great leap toward that end — the examined life. For, how many of us, after our formal education is over, will have the time to pick up the Declaration of Independence or the Federalist Papers, study them, and debate their meaning? Not I. Thankfully, I was exposed to them during my undergraduate years when I had the time to read and discuss such things.
Brian Vakulskas, at 5:00 pm EDT on May 1, 2008
In Responding to Dr Lindsay’s article, first an ideal must be established, the American Renaissance Man. An individual who at least flaunt in discussions of what would be a liberal (in the classic sense) Democracy, one who did not let failure stand in his way as an end to his service, one who simply understood ‘good’, not for himself, but for the public. One who set aside what could have been personal grandeur for that public good.
Two brief examples, each for different reasons but both virtuous: First, George Washington, not as we are taught in a cursory manner, but for what is less known. After his failure at Ft. Pitt, Washington did not shrink from public service, rather he studied tactics, he studied military doctrine, achieving if nothing else two of the most valuable lessons that found victory for the 13 Colonies. First to seek the counsel of others and then you do not have to win this war, you simply cannot lose by wasting or surrendering your army. Further, I would argue that Washington alone stands among Cincinnatus or Solon. Like each, when his service was complete he simply went home. Twice Washington could have either become a dictator or ask for and been given a crown. In each instance, the first when he spoke to his officers, he dissuaded them from taking the Army and marching on Philadelphia, and the second by only serving two terms as President.
The second is John Quincy Adams, whose first service came as a child (I believe at 12 years old) when he accompanied his father to France because he was bi-lingual, teaching French on the voyage. In addition, not contesting the results of second Presidential election.
I mention Washington for his virtue, and Adams for his knowledge. I still find it amazing what can be achieved at such an early age if we but look back a mere 225 years. Where children (and I am aware this will invite the criticism that only the privileged and the males were offered these opportunities, I only mention these as proof of what can be taught) who did and could learn and achieve beyond what only a select few adults (of whom I am not one) achieve today after many years and Universities.
I can relate very much to Dr. Lindsay’s concerns. My first collegiate class that I taught was Constitutional Law (a degree produce institution). I was wide-eyed and full of things I wanted my students to learn. I entered the classroom with a plan for the semester, goals or benchmarks that indicated it was time for testing and the like. I only had three text we would go through together; the Constitution its amendments, and Federalist 10 and 51… I had thought if time allowed and matter progressed I would be able add lessons at the end of the term.
The first day and meeting along with explanation of the syllabus were met with, “you expect to do what?” Three tests; all take home, two-page essays explaining the material we had covered. By the time the second week had passed, I sensed that either I was not being effective, my students were not reading, or did not have the background to understand our lessons. As a check on learning/reading, I gave what most who will read think cheesy 10-point quiz. To my dismay, the highest score was five points. To check the validity of the quiz, I gave it to my wife, who had never once sat in my class. She scored eight of 10. Three points better than any student who sat in four lectures and had been assigned to read the material. (Note this was an objective multiple choice-T-F quiz)
We know what can be achieved and at what age, we can begin to measure this achievement. Where then have we failed? From my own experience, I can go back to Kindergarten. Miss Stienkamp was fresh from college with new ideas. These ideas included that we express our own ideas and that we should explore our imaginations. All well and good until we get to First Grade, the older Mrs. Button thought we should learn to read, to write, and know how to do arithmetic. What a change one summer had made, the distinction being ‘discovery of self’ (relativistism) as opposed ‘learning’ (more of a sense of what education was and ought to be about).
I make these distinctions because I believe these are at the heart of Dr. Lindsay’s argument. I fear that now 2 generations have been so saturated in Miss Stienkamp’s thought process, we have much to fear. Maybe not to fear but to try to undo, the children who entered public schools in the ‘60’s think in this manner because they have never been taught to think otherwise. They are today’s parents, teachers, and some even grandparents.
To reverse this current paradigm, to again include the basic building blocks of education, to include Civics, would include changing the University requirements especially of teachers, students, and curriculum. In doing so, maybe those truths that make us Americans will again find their way into the Public Schools, in a generation or two, we as nation might find that National Purpose, that common identity that once made us truly United. I can speak of German born Great Uncles who when called served in the United States Army in WW I and an Uncle, who likewise served in WW II.
I fear that in an age where no one wins or loses (T-ball games without scores), where grades are either passing or marginal with no sense of failure without which there is no necessity of improvement; where we as a Nation are no longer 1st, 2nd, or 3rd generation Americans; where we have become African- or Mexican-Americans; where having to learn the language and heritage of the nation you immigrated to is an abuse or violation of your rights, we may have put our first, or maybe even our second foot upon that slippery slope of our demise.
When the minority’s opinion, though more important has become the law of the land, as opposed to the will of the majority, (coins without “In God We Trust”, no Baccalaureate ceremonies for graduation, The Pledge of Allegiance cannot be recited in full) all are indications that we are fast falling to the demise of our ‘more-enlightened’ European ancestors. One need not look far to find Paris burning because immigrant discontent. Alternatively, the demise of Denmark’s once ideal Socialist state, where immigrants now find easy living, without contributions.
In summary, Professor Lindsay has been warning his students and fellow academics for years. One respondent expressed that she too feels as though she is “bailing out an ocean with a teaspoon”. If the powers that be would be convinced to look beyond their own political efficacy and expedience, if as a nation we were to bare the burden again of truly teaching that which is truly important, the virtues given us by classics, not the ‘fast food mega meal’ stuff of today, we may yet find our way back to what once made us United.
kendall tack, at 5:55 pm EDT on May 1, 2008
Professor Lindsay has brought light to a subject that has been smoldering for sometime. After having been college educated in the 70’s and following my three children through college and law school in recent years, it has become obvious that many in our institutes of higher learning have taken it upon themselves to pick and choose the materials they teach and the manner in which they choose to teach them. There is no substitute for exploring the founding documents of our country. The writers of those documents poured their blood and sweat into forming our union and they have withstood the test of time. It is imperative that our students continue to be exposed to these important papers.
Barb Dagle, at 9:30 am EDT on May 2, 2008
Dr. Lindsay has provided a sober and compelling case for why colleges and universities desperately need to revisit the question of the core curriculum. I fear, however, that the trend line is in the other direction.
One might hope that his analysis will prompt a serious debate as to what conjunction of forces is driving even elite liberal arts colleges into betraying the very ethos of their existence by moving into an open curriculum with more and more glitzy,marketable, service-oriented programming. The problem does not lie merely at the doorstep of activist faculty or diversity enthusiasts.
Robert L. Paquette, Hamilton College, at 10:00 am EDT on May 12, 2008
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Does the problem originate in the nation’s colleges? I discuss this issue of American political ignorance in my community college Freshman Composition course. I raise the issue when I use the Declaration as an example of argument and require the first two paragraphs for a paraphrase exercise. Usually, USUALLY, my students have never read the Declaration before. They have heard of it, usually, but not always. Nearly all of my students come from public high schools. Some are as young as 16 years old, as we have PSEO students, but my oldest student was 59 years old. In a class with that range of ages, that none of them knew anything about the Declaration of Independence much less any of the other historical and documentary points of interest mentioned in this article.
So, I do my small part to address the issue. The best part of “Declaration as argument” is that I can discuss the arguments, political philosophy and history in the classroom. The best part of the paraphrase exercise is that we can discuss how very difficult it is to say something other than “Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” We can discuss those words (as well as “consent of the governed” and others) as to their meaning in the historical political context and in today’s. What you can and cannot paraphrase is part of the point, but I make larger points, too. Most of my students love those two classes of mine.
Yet, they are ashamed not to know the document. I wonder how they get through public schools without such an encounter. How can they be able to tell me all about Earth Day and nothing about the documents of their nation’s founding? Something is distinctly wrong with public schools that do not teach something about those six points mentioned in that article. Civics ought to be foundational; not left to higher education.
I do not argue that this discussion ought NOT to take place in the college classroom. It ought not begin there. Didn’t Lincoln also say that mothers ought to be lisping such things in their babies’ ears? I suppose mothers have to have a clue, first.
My students become aware that the responsibility to know the USA in a larger way is theirs, now that they are adults. Sometimes they take me seriously. But really, this ought not be left to some English Comp. instructor. I am bailing the ocean with a teaspoon. Also, I am not talking about poetry in order to be able to discuss this. But somebody has to do something. It is appalling that America does not know itself.
Kate, at 9:10 am EDT on April 25, 2008