CHAPTER IX.

THE REFORM OF THE SCHOOL

There are two ways open to those who seek to reform the education of

children. They may seek to transform the school by studying the child

and proving scientifically that the actual scheme of instruction is

defective, and must be modified; or they may found new schools in which

principles may be directly applied in the service of that ideal which

is formed by all who reject the conventions, the cruelty, the trickery,

and the untruth which enter into the bases of modern society.

The first method offers great advantages, and is in harmony with the

evolutionary conception which men of science regard as the only

effective way of attaining the end. They are right in theory, as we

fully admit. It is evident that the progress of psychology and

physiology must lead to important changes in educational methods; that

the teachers, being now in a better position to understand the child,

will make their teaching more in conformity with natural laws. I

further grant that this evolution will proceed in the direction of

greater liberty, as I am convinced that violence is the method of

ignorance, and that the educator who is really worthy of the name will

gain everything by spontaneity; he will know the child’s needs, and

will be able to promote its development by giving it the greatest

possible satisfaction.

In point of fact, however, I do not think that those who are working

for the regeneration of humanity have much to hope from this side.

Rulers have always taken care to control the education of the people;

they know better than any that their power is based entirely on the

school, and they therefore insist on retaining their monopoly of it.

The time has gone by when rulers could oppose the spread of instruction

and put limits to the education of the masses. Such a policy was

possible formerly because economic life was consistent with general

ignorance, and this ignorance facilitated despotism. The circumstances

have changed, however. The progress of science and our repeated

discoveries have revolutionised the conditions of labour and

production. It is no longer possible for the people to remain ignorant;

education is absolutely necessary for a nation to maintain itself and

make headway against its economic competitors. Recognising this, the

rulers have sought to give a more and more complete organisation to the

school, not because they look to education to regenerate society, but

because they need more competent workers to sustain industrial

enterprises and enrich their cities. Even the most reactionary rulers

have learned this lesson; they clearly understand that the old policy

was dangerous to the economic life of nations, and that it was

necessary to adapt popular education to the new conditions.

It would be a serious mistake to think that the ruling classes have not

foreseen the danger to themselves of the intellectual development of

the people, and have not understood that it was necessary to change

their methods. In fact, their methods have been adapted to the new

conditions of life; they have sought to gain control of the ideas which

are in course of evolution. They have endeavoured to preserve the

beliefs on which social discipline had been grounded, and to give to

the results of scientific research and the ideas involved in them a

meaning which will not be to the disadvantage of existing institutions;

and it is this that has induced them to assume control of the school.

In every country the governing classes, which formerly left the

education of the people to the clergy, as these were quite willing to

educate in a sense of obedience to authority, have now themselves

undertaken the direction of the schools.

The danger to them consists in the stimulation of the human mind by the

new spectacle of life and the possible rise of thoughts of emancipation

in the depths of their hearts. It would have been folly to struggle

against the evolving forces; the effect would be only to inflame them,

and, instead of adhering to earlier methods of government, they would

adopt new and more effective methods. It did not require any

extraordinary genius to discover the solution. The course of events

itself suggested to those who were in power the way in which they were

to meet the difficulties which threatened; they built schools, they

sought generously to extend the sphere of education, and if there were

at one point a few who resisted this impulse—as certain tendencies

favoured one or other of the political parties—all soon understood that

it was better to yield, and that the best policy was to find some new

way of defending their interests and principles. There were then sharp

struggles for the control of the schools, and these struggles continue

to-day in every civilised country; sometimes the republican

middle-class triumphs, sometimes the clergy. All parties appreciate the

importance of the issue, and they shrink from no sacrifice to win the

victory. “The school” is the cry of every party. The public good must

be recognised in this zeal. Everybody seeks to raise himself and

improve his condition by education. In former times it might have been

said: “Those people want to keep thee in ignorance in order the better

to exploit thee: we want to see thee educated and free.” That is no

longer possible; schools of all kinds rise on every side.

In regard to this general change of ideas among the governing classes

as to the need of schools, I may state certain reasons for distrusting

their intentions and doubting the efficacy of the means of reform which

are advocated by certain writers. As a rule, these reformers care

little about the social significance of education; they are men who

eagerly embrace scientific truth, but eliminate all that is foreign to

the object of their studies. They are patiently endeavouring to

understand the child, and are eager to know—though their science is

young, it must be remembered—what are the best methods to promote its

intellectual development.

This kind of professional indifference is, in my opinion, very

prejudicial to the cause they seek to serve. I do not in the least

think them insensible of the realities of the social world, and I know

that they believe that the public welfare will be greatly furthered by

their labours. “Seeking to penetrate the secrets of the life of man,”

they reflect, “and unravelling the normal process of his physical and

psychic development, we shall direct education into a channel which

will be favourable to the liberation of energy. We are not immediately

concerned with the reform of the school, and indeed we are unable to

say exactly what lines it should follow. We will proceed slowly,

knowing that, from the very nature of things, the reform of the school

will result from our research. If you ask us what are our hopes, we

will grant that, like you, we foresee a revolution in the sense of a

placing of the child and humanity under the direction of science; yet

even in this case we are persuaded that our work makes for that object,

and will be the speediest and surest means of promoting it.”

This reasoning is evidently logical. No one could deny this, yet there

is a considerable degree of fallacy in it, and we must make this clear.

If the ruling classes have the same ideas as the reformers, if they are

really impelled by a zeal for the continuous reorganisation of society

until poverty is at last eliminated, we might recognise that the power

of science is enough to improve the lot of peoples. Instead of this,

however, we see clearly that the sole aim of those who strive to attain

power is the defence of their own interests, their own advantage, and

the satisfaction of their personal desires. For some time now we have

ceased to accept the phrases with which they disguise their ambitions.

It is true that there are some in whom we may find a certain amount of

sincerity, and who imagine at times that they are impelled by a zeal

for the good of their fellows. But these become rarer and rarer, and

the positivism of the age is very severe in raising doubts as to the

real intentions of those who govern us.

And just as they contrived to adapt themselves when the necessity

arose, and prevented education from becoming a danger, they also

succeeded in organising the school in accord with the new scientific

ideas in such a way that nothing should endanger their supremacy. These

ideas are difficult to accept, and one needs to keep a sharp look-out

for successful methods and see how things are arranged so as to avoid

verbal traps. How much has been, and is, expected of education! Most

progressive people expect everything of it, and, until recent years,

many did not understand that instruction alone leads to illusions. Much

of the knowledge actually imparted in schools is useless; and the hope

of reformers has been void because the organisation of the school,

instead of serving an ideal purpose, has become one of the most

powerful instruments of servitude in the hands of the ruling class. The

teachers are merely conscious or unconscious organs of their will, and

have been trained on their principles. From their tenderest years, and

more drastically than anybody, they have endured the discipline of

authority. Very few have escaped this despotic domination; they are

generally powerless against it, because they are oppressed by the

scholastic organisation to such an extent that they have nothing to do

but obey. It is unnecessary here to describe that organisation. One

word will suffice to characterise it—Violence. The school dominates the

children physically, morally, and intellectually, in order to control

the development of their faculties in the way desired, and deprives

them of contact with nature in order to modify them as required. This

is the explanation of the failure; the eagerness of the ruling class to

control education and the bankruptcy of the hopes of reformers.

“Education” means in practice domination or domestication. I do not

imagine that these systems have been put together with the deliberate

aim of securing the desired results. That would be a work of genius.

But things have happened just as if the actual scheme of education

corresponded to some vast and deliberate conception; it could not have

been done better. To attain it teachers have inspired themselves solely

with the principles of discipline and authority, which always appeal to

social organisers; such men have only one clear idea and one will—the

children must learn to obey, to believe, and to think according to the

prevailing social dogmas. If this were the aim, education could not be

other than we find it to-day. There is no question of promoting the

spontaneous development of the child’s faculties, or encouraging it to

seek freely the satisfaction of its physical, intellectual, and moral

needs. There is question only of imposing ready-made ideas on it, of

preventing it from ever thinking otherwise than is required for the

maintenance of existing social institutions—of making it, in a word, an

individual rigorously adapted to the social mechanism.

It cannot be expected that this kind of education will have any

influence on the progress of humanity. I repeat that it is merely an

instrument of domination in the hands of the ruling classes, who have

never sought to uplift the individual, and it is quite useless to

expect any good from the schools of the present day. What they have

done up to the present they will continue to do in the future. There is

no reason whatever why they should adopt a different system; they have

resolved to use education for their purposes, and they will take

advantage of every improvement of it. If only they preserve the spirit

of the school and the authoritative discipline which rules it, every

innovation will tend to their advantage. For this they will keep a

constant watch, and take care that their interests are secured.

I would fix the attention of my readers on this point: the whole value

of education consists in respect for the physical, intellectual, and

moral faculties of the child. As in science, the only possible

demonstration is demonstration by facts; education is not worthy of the

name unless it be stripped of all dogmatism, and unless it leaves to

the child the direction of its powers and is content to support them in

their manifestations. But nothing is easier than to alter this meaning

of education, and nothing more difficult than to respect it. The

teacher is always imposing, compelling, and using violence; the true

educator is the man who does not impose his own ideas and will on the

child, but appeals to its own energies.

From this we can understand how easily education is conducted, and how

light is the task of those who seek to dominate the individual. The

best conceivable methods become in their hands so many new and more

effective means of despotism. Our ideal is that of science; we appeal

to it in demanding the power to educate the child by fostering its

development and procuring a satisfaction of its needs as they manifest

themselves.

We are convinced that the education of the future will be entirely

spontaneous. It is plain that we cannot wholly realise this, but the

evolution of methods in the direction of a broader comprehension of

life and the fact that all improvement involves the suppression of

violence indicate that we are on solid ground when we look to science

for the liberation of the child.

Is this the ideal of those who actually control the scholastic system?

Is this what they propose to bring about? Are they eager to abandon

violence? Only in the sense that they employ new and more effective

methods to attain the same end—that is to say, the formation of

individuals who will accept all the conventions, all the prejudices,

and all the untruths on which society is based.

We do not hesitate to say that we want men who will continue

unceasingly to develop; men who are capable of constantly destroying

and renewing their surroundings and renewing themselves; men whose

intellectual independence is their supreme power, which they will yield

to none; men always disposed for things that are better, eager for the

triumph of new ideas, anxious to crowd many lives into the one life

they have. Society fears such men; you cannot expect it to set up a

system of education which will produce them.

What, then, is our mission? What is the policy we must adopt in order

to contribute to the reform of the school?

Let us follow closely the work of the experts who are engaged in the

study of the child, and let us endeavour to find a way of applying

their principles to the education we seek to establish, aiming at an

increasingly complete emancipation of the individual. But how are we to

do this? By putting our hand energetically to the work, by promoting

the establishment of new schools in which, as far as possible, there

shall rule this spirit of freedom which, we feel, will colour the whole

education of the future.

We have already had proof that it leads to excellent results. We can

destroy whatever there is in the actual school that savours of

violence, all the artificial devices by which the children are

estranged from nature and life, the intellectual and moral discipline

which has been used to impose ready-made thoughts, all beliefs which

deprave and enervate the will. Without fear of injury we may place the

child in a proper and natural environment, in which it will find itself

in contact with all that it loves, and where vital impressions will be

substituted for the wearisome reading of books. If we do no more than

this, we shall have done much towards the emancipation of the child.

In such an environment we may freely make use of the data of science

and work with profit. It is true that we could not realise all our

hopes; that often we shall find ourselves compelled, from lack of

knowledge, to use the wrong means. But we shall be sustained by the

confident feeling that, without having achieved our entire aim, we

shall have done a great deal more than is being done by the actual

school. I would rather have the free spontaneity of a child who knows

nothing than the verbal knowledge and intellectual deformation of one

that has experienced the existing system of education.

What we have sought to do in Barcelona is being done by others in

various places. All of us saw that the work was possible. Dedicate

yourself to it at once. We do not hope that the studies of children

will be suspended that we may regenerate the school. Let us apply what

we know, and go on learning and applying. A scheme of rational

education is already possible, and in such schools as we advocate the

children may develop freely according to their aspirations. Let us

endeavour to improve and extend the work.

Those are our aims. We know well the difficulties we have to face; but

we have made a beginning in the conviction that we shall be assisted in

our task by those who work in their various spheres to deliver men from

the dogmas and conventions which secure the prolongation of the present

unjust arrangement of society.

The Origin and Ideals of the Modern School · 第 9 / 17 章