What is the purpose of education in challenging times? Part 2

Where are we heading in the grand project of education?

Source: Mark König, Unsplash

There have long been debates about whether schools should try to be maintained as neutral spaces. Where plain facts and basic universal principles should be taught, and especially devoid of politics, even histories and those grey areas that can lead to the pedalling of particular ideologies.

One of the first of these was the German philosopher and physicist, Moritz Schlick, the founder of the Vienna Circle, a group of philosophers and scientists that included figures such as Bertrand Russell, Ludwig Wittgenstein and psychologist and philosopher, John Dewey. The group arose in response to rising fascism in the early part of the twentieth century. They looked to promote a scientific worldview that involved logical empiricism and a radical rejection of metaphysics (which they saw as too abstract and leaning toward mysticism) as a way to directly counter the Nazi ideological reliance on myth, racial superiority and obscure nationalism.

As a group that embraced the inclusion of Jewish scholars and socialists, the Nazis and Austrian fascists saw the group as dangerous and the founder of the group, Schlick wound up being killed on the steps of the University of Vienna. The group soon disbanded.

One founding member of the group, John Dewey was for a time supportive of the group’s aims yet, came to find their hardline emphasis on logicism to be rigid and which ultimately ran counter to the freedom of thought they had at first supported. They were attempting, in Dewey’s estimation, to lay claim to an ultimate truth, which for Dewey went against the spirit of scientific inquiry which had once been the cornerstone of the group’s work and methods. In the name of preserving neutrality, Dewey saw a certain dogmatism creep in to their claims.

That there should be a neutral form of education was also one Hannah Arendt argued for. In the wake of the fall of Nazi Germany and its ideologies that had disrupted and corroded schooling in that era, Arendt wanted to protect schools as safe spaces, and to provide children with a neutral form of education.

Yet, Gert Biesta (2013) offers a gentle critique of Arendt’s arguments in The Beautiful Risk of Education. Biesta not only hints at the false promise of a neutral education, but points to the risks that are inherent to freedom which must undergird both education and democracies. In doing so, Biesta creates an enlarged view of what education can be, and by doing so applies Arendt’s own insights as they are described within her arguments for the role of the citizen. While Arend’t view of the work of the school is something sanitised and safe, Arendt’s view of the citizen is by contrast, compelling and dynamic. Conceived as creative agents, Biesta argues that Arendt’s high aims for general society must also be those set for young people and for education. That beautiful risk that is an aspect of freedom and must be tended with care and constant attention.

Education not as ideological didacticism but as creative agency.

While children, and all of us, must be protected against totalitarianism and dominating ideologies, the best way to guard against these is through shared and hopeful dialogue. Children are already here and among us, navigating the world too and they are asking questions.

Education, like democracies are by their nature a kind of risk. Schools can be safe spaces but ones where children and young people nevertheless learn the tools required for civic engagement. Not what to think, but how to think. How to make moral and ethical choices, how to ask good questions and how to acquire and apply knowledge in productive ways.

We are also naïve if we think ideologies don’t have a way of creeping in to education systems, even those determined to be neutral. Mandated prescription is particularly vulnerable to dominating ideologies and represents a dangerous shift. We need to be asking more questions about the purpose of such mandates, who is writing them and the particular aims they are trying to fulfil.

The spirit of scientific inquiry, the development of a mind that asks questions, and giving the child or young person the tools to do this is considered dangerous by some - as well as the freedoms these represent. There are some who want to blame societal breakdown and the post-truth era on inquiry thinking models of education, instead of looking more squarely at social inequality, the corrosiveness of the algorithms writ into our social media and online platforms, and the breakdown of social cohesion.

Thinking, philosophy and inquiry models for teaching are also about learning how to keep listening to one another; one of the only tools left for building social cohesion. Not everything is true, but learning how to listen to one another and then having the tools to decide what is of value and what to discard, is vital to healthy democracies.

Albert Camus held a particularly rigorous view of the work of education. He saw it as an ongoing work, one that faces the reality of the world with honesty and of education as a life long inquiry, wrestling with the things that confound us and to try to make sense. In The Myth of Sisyphus, Camus argues that education is the heart of the human experience, akin to the work of an artist. It is a constant work of assent and refusal. Essentially, it is a constant work of discernment. To Camus, this work of discernment and questioning is critical to education.

For Camus, the work of education is a hopeful, constant straining toward truth and justice. At the same time, Camus recognised that this work of learning to face reality and to make sense of it demands an alertness that feels relentless. We have to be careful not to give in completely to the consolations of mysticism, to the pretence of false certainty, nor to despair. These are distractions from the active work required of responsible citizens.

Now more than ever, it is a spirit of scientific inquiry that is needed in our classrooms. A true science of learning that demands the constant work of listening and discernment, and which is the core of a democratic education. Education as memorisation may seem like a safe or neutral way forward, but it is a false safety. Life is risk, learning is risk, and they are the privileges that come with freedom. The scientific method is a straining toward truth, a constant weighing up of the evidence as the conditions change. Deciding what is and what isn’t worth keeping hold of.

Central to this purpose of education is for us to uphold and champion the fundamental integrity, intelligence and potential of the teachers and young people who are at the heart of our education systems.

Education is lifelong and is about learning to exercise our freedoms with creativity, with agency and with humility. It is a lesson I learn and continue to learn most powerfully from the young people and children I have worked with over the last 30 years. They are not to be underestimated. Especially now, within the precious democratic societies we still enjoy.

References

Arendt, H. (1954). The crisis in education. https://thi.ucsc.edu/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/Arendt-Crisis_In_Education-1954.pdf

Biesta, G. (2013). The beautiful risk of education. Paradigm Publishers.

Camus, A. (1942/ 2013). The myth of Sisyphus. Penguin.

Misak, C. (2026). An education for life: John Dewey, pragmatic philosopher and perennial optimist. London Review of Books