As a further preparation for the most fruitful study of the “cases” in
disobedience we must examine the several stages and types of obedience.
Obedience may occur in two forms: first, formal obedience in which the
will is not heartily enlisted in the act. Oftentimes there is positive
rebellion, opposition of will to the command given. Second, intelligent,
loyal obedience, in which the child yields the inner consent when he
outwardly conforms to the teacher’s instruction. With this loyalty there
may be, indeed, many counter attractions which occur to the child’s mind
and cause him to hesitate, in a way, or to meditate over the gains and
losses involved in his proposed course of action. He balances these
possible ways of acting, but conscience speaks up and he yields
obedience despite a lingering regret. As he reflects more and more, he
finds increasing satisfaction in having followed the commands given to
him.
(1) _Formal obedience._ The intellectual factor varies greatly in
different circumstances. “Blind obedience,” loyal conformity to commands
with no comprehension of the reasons for so acting, is a valuable asset.
It seems needful in many cases in the life of young children to require
conformity to unexplained commands. Says G. Stanley Hall, “About the
only duty of young children is implicit obedience,” yet Kate Douglas
Wiggin is right when she says, “Blind obedience to authority is not in
itself moral. It is necessary in order that we may save children from
dangers of which they know nothing. It is valuable also as a habit.”
This unthinking acquiescence to the will of another is neither moral nor
immoral; it is unmoral. It is a safety device for the young which
precedes the development of judgment, as habit-forming precedes the
making of moral choices.
As a child advances toward maturity he comes more and more to discover
the reason why certain commands are laid upon him. Formal obedience is
peculiarly likely to occur in younger children who for lack of
experience can give small consideration to the reasons that underlie
prudent action. They gradually shift from one type of obedience to the
other as they learn the grounds for the customary ways of doing things.
The habit of obedience need not be fundamentally changed by this
discovery of reasons. Children may well be expected to obey because they
have confidence in a superior. Whatever groundwork of reason may be
desired and granted will be a reinforcement of the impetus to obey; yet
confidence must always be the ground of the obedience we aim to secure.
Montessori finds that there are three periods in the development of
obedience in young children. In the first period, there is spiritual
disorder; the child seems to be physically deaf, unable to hear
commands.
In the second stage, the child understands the command and seems to
anticipate pleasure in realizing it; but there is a palsy of will: he
acts tardily and with dissatisfaction.
In the third stage, he obeys instantly, with pleasure and enthusiasm. As
he acquires skill, he takes pride in his new achievement. He will
readily learn to leave absorbing interests in order to obey.
Implicit obedience is to be required of children, even after they have
attained the power of fully comprehending requirements laid upon them.
There are often occasions in which time for explanation is insufficient.
If the child develops the habit of always insisting upon an explanation
simply because he can not understand it, teachers and parents will find
themselves seriously handicapped. Even adults find it necessary to give
instant and unexplained obedience when emergency calls reach them.
Again, explanations, though incomprehensible, are sometimes
embarrassing, owing to the presence of other people or of circumstances
in some involved situation. Explanation, in such cases, must be avoided,
and the pupil at once heed the request. As in the case of the youngest
child, so a mature person occasionally finds himself in a situation
where a crisis demands obedience without an instant’s delay.
(2) _Intelligent obedience._ In what we term intelligent obedience,
there is a fair understanding of why the act is required. For the most
part, the commands of teachers are well understood by children in the
public school. It takes but a short time to interpret the general
significance of school requirements. In the world at large, as, for
example, in manufactories, stores, mines and the like, the commands of
superiors, in nearly every instance, carry with them a large degree of
broad significance.
Without a doubt, a careful teacher discloses very generally the reasons
why a specific course of action is recommended and required. Such
procedure is a recognition of the mental powers of the pupils. They are
treated as intelligent human beings when reasons for commands are
offered. The teacher hopes to train pupils to use their power of free
choice intelligently. This is done by revealing the grounds for proper
conduct and securing the inner consent of the pupil’s intelligence to
natural commands.
The presentation of reasons for a command also appeals to the good-will
of the pupil. He presumes that his conduct is not always determined by
authority, but that he is expected to act on grounds of his own loyalty
and good-will. As a consequence, intelligent obedience normally results
in an excellent comradeship between pupil and teacher. It begets a
mutual understanding. It is a preventive of misconceptions and
complaints by the pupil. Clearly enough, intelligent obedience is the
mainstay in school discipline. The school, as a whole, is entitled to
know very many reasons why the customs and procedures laid down by
principal and teacher have been adopted.
To be sure, the giving of explanations to public school pupils will be
determined partially by the grade and circumstances in which each pupil
is found.
Willing obedience establishes a basis for any amount of moral
instruction that a teacher may desire to give. The moral influence of
the school wavers when uncontrolled, and the corresponding obedience
falters. After willing obedience has become a school tradition, or an
individual habit, the teacher needs no longer to exercise extreme
caution as to favorable conditions under which he may give commands for
new activities. He has established a general confidence. He is supposed
to be trustworthy in large and small matters, and he may take great
liberties in leading his pupils into new courses of action.
It is difficult for a teacher to believe that this high type of
obedience can really be secured. The occasional tilts with rebellious
pupils tend to cause him to adopt a method based upon blunt authority,
and to apply this method far too often. Confidence in human nature, we
may say then, has been shattered largely through applying to the
majority a method of treatment which has been provoked and deserved by
only a small minority. The teacher is too close to the details of
critical cases of discipline to see the whole situation in its true
perspective.
In other instances the teacher has an inordinate eagerness to use
authority. Young teachers often enter the schoolhouse vowing vengeance
on disobedient pupils. For such teachers to be over-severe is far too
easy. They need to take a second look at the situation before them,
instead of rushing in with heavy artillery. “A man who would regulate
his watch with a crowbar would be considered an ass, but a person who
thinks a child of delicate and nervous organization can be made bold by
bullying is no better.”
All pupils are “delicate and nervous” in respect to some matters, at
least. Even the roughest and crudest backwoods giant has a tender spot
around which the ennoblement of character can be developed; if this
point of vantage is lost, all hope of “saving” the boy’s better nature
is gone.