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Daily Obstruction: To the Victor

24 Jan


To The Victor Go The Spoils


Defeat schools the loser more than success the winner.

Daily Obstruction: In-Tuition of Nature

15 Jan

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In-Tuition of Nature

Nature’s first lessons are taught with pain and pleasure.  Once these are learned – if ever – then she whispers the secret of communion and fidelity.  After a long apprenticeship, she secretly bestows her creative power, indicating graduation.  This is done unceremoniously and the only rewards she offers for such a rare accomplishment is delight in poetic pain.

Daily Obstruction: The Spiral Curriculum

7 Jan


Nature’s Spiral Curriculum


Life lessons are presented obliquely.  They are learned, if at all, by repetition.

Castalia Cultural Center

20 Jul

Announcing the inaugural lecture series of the Castalia Cultural Center:


When: Tuesday evenings (6pm – 7pm) beginning September 16, 2014 (First Lecture Series is consists of 5 lectures – one every Tuesday, unless otherwise noted.)

Where: 1318 Beacon Street, Suite 15, Brookline, MA 02446

Who: Jason Giannetti

What: “Homer to Aristotle: Ancient Greek Education and Philosophy and Their Counterfeits”

Cost: $10/lecture, $50 for the entire series

Space is limited, so register early.

Contact Jason Giannetti:

or use the field below:

Higher Education Today, Part II

27 Mar



What Is the Role of Higher Education in America Today?

Observations of an Adjunct Professor


Jason Giannetti

Part II

A Crisis of Belief:

Professor Marvel Meets Dorothy



“All humans, by nature, desire to know.”  So says Aristotle at the outset of his Metaphysics.  This is the maxim with which I try to approach each and every class and each and every student.  No matter the student’s ability or statements to the contrary, it is an empirical fact that all humans not only desire to know but take delight in the act of knowing.  It is bridging the gap between desire and accomplishment that is difficult, challenging, and even, on occasion, painful for the student.  Pathos mathos: to learn is to suffer and to suffer is to learn, as Aeschylus insightfully observed so long ago.  But learning, growing, transforming need not always be painful and difficult.  As Mortimer Adler pointed out (in “Teaching, Learning, and Their Counterfeits”), three of Plato’s favorite metaphors for the educator are: farmer, doctor, and midwife.  All three of these arts apply themselves to natural phenomena that often, left to their own accord, grow, heal, and bear children respectively.  The farmer, doctor, and midwife only facilitate these natural processes.  Without schools, teachers, and external demands, people would naturally gravitate toward learning and knowing.  This is seen most readily in children who, even if they profess to dislike school (meaning here formal education), actually love to learn, so long as it is called by another name, viz., play.  Plato, Aristotle’s teacher, was astute enough to say that one ought not educate people by force or compulsion, but rather by play and games, for play draws out (the literal meaning of the Latin word educare) people’s natural talents.  (Plato, Republic, Book VII, 536f-537a)  When “at play” human beings learn most readily and most enthusiastically; whether this be learning some sort of intricate hand-jive limerick, a sport, a dance, a video game, or the exploration of sex and sexuality.  (The close relationship between learning, play, and sex is made explicit by the Hebrew term that literally means “fooling around” in all the senses of that phrase, mitzchak, and the Biblical euphemism for sex as “to know.”)  All of these are forms of play and all of these demonstrate the players’ delight in a kind of transformative learning.

My point in all this discussion of Plato, Aristotle, and play is simply to say that maybe formal education is not for everybody.  Coercive learning instead of cooperative learning, schooling under duress instead of the original sense of school (skole in the Greek) as leisure, is not a system in which everyone flourishes.  Just because those running the system (the administrators and educators) excelled in the system and at playing the system’s game (for they are the ones who typically spent the most time within the system of formal education) does not mean thateveryone should be forced to operate in that system.

The greatest bane of my role as an educator is grading.  It is not the work that goes into grading that I resent, but rather the whole premium placed on grades by all parties: students and administrators alike.  I am interested in one thing and one thing only as an educator – the flourishing of the student as a human being.  In India there is much fanfare that is associated with the revealing of the sacred icons and statues of the gods.  When the divine images are presented to the devotees, it is understood not only as a holy and beautiful moment, but also as a moment of revelation where something of the god’s essential nature is revealed.  As a revelation, it is a moment of instruction.  But what is crucial is that not everyone comes away with the same revelation, the same understanding, the same knowledge.  It is a fundamental tenant of Hinduism that each person understands what he or she is capable of understanding.  I’ve often thought that that is not only how things work in the classroom, but, more importantly, how they should work.  Rather than hold as the standard of an ‘A’ a certain level of comprehension and demonstration of that comprehension, where all the lower grades are indexed by this standard and measure and the degree to which they fall short of it, I have thought that each student should get an ‘A’ for understanding just what he or she understands as she or he understands it.  In other words, each student should get an ‘A’ for comprehending as best he or she could comprehend that which was presented.  (In this case, one really would earn an “‘A’ for effort.”)  Isn’t that all we really can ask of students?

I mean, once we start making special exceptions for “students with disabilities” (as we have, both by school policies and by law), then isn’t it a form of discrimination to give one student a lower grade than another simply because he or she is, to put it bluntly, more intellectually disabled than another?  Do I really want to participate in that form of discrimination?  Do I want to give advantages to “bright” students because they have been given an unfair advantage by God or nature or genetics, or what have you?  (Not to mention that given the economic and social inequities of the population and the vast inequalities built into the primary and secondary education systems based upon disparities in funding of school districts, certain students will excel simply due to having been lucky enough to be born into privileged families and communities.  Thus, the grading system is unfairly weighted to advantage the privileged who are privileged merely due to an accident of birth.)

But, you might say, people are not equal and life isn’t fair and the intellectually meritorious should excel at the intellectual game just as the physically talented should excel and be promoted on their athletic teams.  That is all true, I reply, but the big difference is that the people on the athletic teams, supposedly, are there voluntarily – because they like the game and have opted into it.  But because of the way our system of education is structured people are not voluntarily playing this game.  College has gone from being a relatively unusual pursuit to an almost universal expectation, and if not an expectation, then a requirement for employment – even at jobs for which a college education would make the employee overqualified.

I will say it again: a four year undergraduate college education is not for everybody.  Some people are simply better served by going to a trade school or no college at all.  In most other parts of the world this is the norm, but in America from the end of WWII to the present, we have created a social and cultural expectation, almost akin to a right, of tertiary education.  As Joe Klein succinctly said, “[Bill] Clinton managed to gain. . .  more than $30 billion in new tax credits for higher education; in effect, this made the first two years of college a middle-class entitlement.”  (Klein, The Natural, pp. 159)

Thus, as a result of this new “entitlement” mentality, a number of negative consequences inadvertently made their way into the system.  First, Americans, students, professors, administrators, and parents alike began to view college as a right – not just “a rite of passage,” but literally as a right that adheres to one by the simple fact of birth in the US.  This view informs my chair person’s sentiment that we have a duty to keep students off the streets and in college.  It also informs students who mistakenly equate paying high tuition dollars at a low ranked institution to the purchasing of a passing grade without the concomitant effort involved in earning such a grade.  This attitude of entitlement fuels the increasing phenomenon of “helicopter parents” who hover over their college-bound child and demand to be informed of their child’s performance from the professor despite federal laws protecting the students’ privacy (“Family Education Rights and Privacy Act” or FERPA).  Though the Supreme Court may proclaim that dollars equal freedom of speech, dollars do not equal a good grade, continued enrolment in college, or the right to know if your son or daughter is coming to class on time.  Lastly, and most perniciously, this sense of entitlement also seems to translate in the popular mindset that anyone and everyone deserves to go to college.  Though I firmly believe that college should be an opportunity for everyone no matter one’s financial situation, we all need to come to the realization that not everyone is right for college.

Though college is not for everybody and there are systems where it is perfectly acceptable, if not required, for students to be tracked into professions, trade schools, or “gymnasia” (as the liberal arts high school programs are called in parts of Europe), the down side of those evaluative approaches is that for many young adults the college years are a period of tremendous personal development and growth where many do find their calling or find that they hear calls to fields that prior to college they didn’t even know existed.  Shuffling underperforming kids from high school off to trade schools or into jobs (if they can find them) does many a disservice as well.  I count myself as one of the numerous students who languished in the primary and secondary grades because unmotivated and underchallenged, but flourished in college once the responsibility for excelling, choosing my courses, and finding my way was put on my shoulders.  Were it not for that opportunity and the support from my professors I may have never found that I had a talent for intellectual pursuits at all.

In America we do not track students into a pigeon hole.  But we do rely to an inordinate degree on standardized testing – for primary and secondary students, as well as for college entrance exams and even graduate schools.  There are serious flaws in all standardized tests, as has been demonstrated by study after study – flaws of cultural bias, flaws of lowest common denominator, flaws of weeding out the most interesting and creative thinkers.  But despite all the mountains of data discrediting the methodology of standardized tests, they still have yet to be debunked by those who rely upon and pay dearly for them – schools, colleges, and universities who demand them, and the students who wish to be accepted by those colleges and universities and so pay a premium to take the test (not to mention to take prep courses for the tests).

Those standardized tests attempt to insure a certain level of competence.  They are entrance exams, doorkeepers, the first hoop of many more to follow.  But, as my experience has shown, such bars (and I use that term in two senses of the word – a “bar” as in a minimum standard, and a “bar” as in a barrier) do not always successfully prove ability, nor do they always identify talent.  Yet, there they stand like the Guardian of the Emerald City’s gates saying “Prove it!” to all who claim to be qualified to enter.  The demand to prove their merit for entrance through symbolic letters (grades) and certain numbers (test scores) is akin to the proffering of certain talismanic objects (ruby slippers).  It is the display of credit in which people place credence such that certain institutions are deemed accredited by other accrediting institutions that others find credible.  The root word of all these related italicized words is the Latin: credere – “to believe” or “to have faith in.”

Accreditation is a double edged sword.  On the one hand, it is the demand by accreditation boards that college degrees mean something that hampers professors’ abilities to distribute ‘A’s across the board and just naturally let those interested and able rise to the occasion.  Were we to employ that sort of grading technique, those who really weren’t interested (or who thought they weren’t interested) would soon stop coming to class and stop doing the work, and ideally those who were interested in learning for learning’s sake would show up for class having done the reading, with earnest papers in hand, and ready to engage in discussion.  But if we do that then the ‘A’s significance becomes degraded.  The institution’s reputation becomes questionable, the accreditation board becomes suspicious, and most importantly, graduate school admissions departments and employers look with skepticism on the G.P.A. of applicants from that institution.  On the other hand, under the current system there is the pretense of standards, rigor, accountability, and uniformity, but the reality, as I explained in part I, is that these standards are often undermined by unprincipled practices, the rigor is replaced by remediation, accountability is undone by “mutual non-interference,” and uniformity of grading is highly irregular from professor to professor and institution to institution.

What do I see as a solution to these didactic dead-ends?  I think that for the vast majority of students and educators business will and even should go on as usual.  Accreditation boards, degree requirements, credit hours, GPA’s, admissions committees, curriculum committees, academic standards and honesty policies, non-for-profit institutions alongside for-profit institutions, liberal arts colleges and trade schools, distance learning and brick-and-mortar classrooms, accelerated programs, and the entire edifice of higher education today will continue on the power of its own inertia as if nothing has really changed.  But, just as the Roman Empire seemed to its inhabitants to endure the degradation of the barbarian invaders who gradually eroded it and dismantled its institutions piecemeal, so too will the name and form of education persist, but without the substance averred to by the titles it bestows; like the Wizard of Oz passing out hearts and medals and diplomas professing to confer special powers, but in reality they are but the traps and suits of the titles they claim to be.  The real power is contained in the faith that believes in the outward symbol, the credit bestowed upon sign and the authority vested in the institution that confers the signifier.  But that authority is only authoritative by virtue of the credit conferred upon it by the willing recipients of its magnificent titles.  In the end it is all but a house of cards, smoke, and mirrors built upon the will to believe.

But, since all humans desire to know, those who truly have a hunger for wisdom will seek out and find within and without the institutions of learning the food upon which they can feed.

This situation has, in my mind, its historical precedent: China’s Confucian exam system of the Ch’ing dynasty.  American (and Western) culture is just now approaching the height of an intellectual meritocracy based upon the administration of standardized testing; a bureaucratic form the Chinese practiced for hundreds of years and that reached its pinnacle in the 17th century.  The major difference between the Chinese system and ours is that in the former the exams were administered directly by the state, in the latter we have created a public and private tertiary educational system to mint the new Mandarins.  Unlike the Chinese system, however, our system does not siphon out the less apt in order that the cream can rise to the top for the State, but rather, in our system “college is where people can be taught what they need in order to enter a vocation. . . .  [L]ibral education is the elite type of college education: it’s the gateway to the high-status professions.”  (“Live and Learn: Why We Have College,” by Louis Menand, The New Yorker, June 6, 2011, pp. 78-9)

Though there are numerous other differences in content and structure between the Chinese system and ours, the important parallel for pedagogical comparison is that the rigid, formalistic, high-stakes testing in China led to a backlash of free-thinking, original, creative, intellectually curious, and rebellious intellectuals who rejected the Confucian ideals and hierarchical bureaucracy in favor of the subversive Taoist and Buddhist counter-culture.  Perhaps the inadequacies of our current culture’s curriculum crises will similarly lead to spiritual, artistic, and joyful salves in similarly surreptitious sources of wisdom.

Incipit vita nova.

The Role of Higher Education Today, Part I

27 Mar

What Is the Role of Higher Education in America Today?

Observations of an Adjunct Professor


Jason Giannetti

Part I

Riddle: Idyll Idol Idle


So, a former student of mine made a formal appeal to the chair of my Humanities department to contest the grade on her final paper.  There is no need to go into the details of the assignment or her reasons for why she felt she deserved a passing grade.  The important fact here is that, after reading the student’s paper the chair agreed with me that the paper was quite terrible and merited the failing grade it originally received.  But, after affirming my initial assessment, the chair of my department and I continued to shoot the breeze about teaching and the varying quality of students at our institution.  In passing she remarked, “I mean, we accept a lot of students here who, were they not in this college, they would be on the street doing drugs, in gangs and crime, or who knows what.”  By this remark I am sure that her heart was in the right place and her intentions were the best.  She meant, I believe, that, though not a stellar institution, our college gives an opportunity to students who might otherwise never have the chance to improve themselves, their situations, their status in society, and, in fact, may be preyed upon by the malicious forces of their underprivileged milieu.  But this little off-hand comment put into stark relief for me the gulf of difference between two (perhaps compatible, perhaps incompatible) views of the function of higher education in America today.

I am going to have to be a tad bit unfair to my colleague by using her comment as if it reflected a full-blown, well thought out position.  That in mind, I would say that her position is that higher education, or at least certain parts of it, are and should be a safety-net and hand-up for at-risk individuals, traditionally oppressed or disenfranchised segments of society, and others who, but for colleges with low admissions standards, would be excluded from social and economic upward mobility and pursuing the American Dream.

My approach, by contrast, is a belief that higher education is a place to pursue intellectual exploration and attempt to satisfy the mind’s curiosity; a place where learning is sought for learning’s sake.  Now I certainly do not deny that higher education is and has been a passage to improving one’s social and economic position in life, but I think that to understand that to be the function of higher education is to mistake an incidental but important externality of the institution for its raison d’être.

Back to my student for just a moment in order to illustrate another, yet tangentially related issue.  The fact of the matter is that her quizzes and her mid-term paper did not earn her a passing grade.  All of her work and her class participation indicated a woeful deficiency in basic reading comprehension, writing skills, and the ability to analyze and synthesize material.  This does not necessarily mean that the student lacked the innate intelligence for such academic skills; it merely indicates at the very least an inadequate primary and secondary preparation for college – something that I am witnessing far more frequently each year.  This particular student is, I am sad to say, better equipped for the demands of college than many of the undergraduates (usually first-year students) that I encounter.  At least this student was able to include in her papers and quizzes complete sentences that were grammatically correct and indicated an understanding of the basic instructions.  More and more students I encounter in college are borderline illiterate.  Unfortunately this is not hyperbole.  Every semester I have an increasing number of students who turn in papers (papers that they were given every opportunity to write, edit, submit for review, and polish outside the classroom) that are unintelligible due to a deficiency in the most basic skills of sentence structure, spelling, grammar, and organization.  And this is happening at a time when almost all colleges have instituted a first-year requirement of an English Composition course consisting of at least one, but often two semesters in length.

The fact that such composition courses have become de rigueur in colleges and universities is itself an indication of a larger problem: the primary and secondary schools are not preparing students with the adequate basic skills required for college.  I teach in Massachusetts, a state that has made passage of the MCAS (Massachusetts Comprehensive Assessment System) a requirement to advance grade levels and graduate high school for almost a decade.  One would think that such standardized test requirements would guarantee a minimum competency among high school graduates, but my personal experience has been that since teaching on the college level (often in community colleges and state colleges as well as private colleges that attract a majority of in-state students) for as many years as the MCAS requirement has been in effect, I have seen my students’ proficiency levels steadily decline.  More and more frequently, instead of facilitating the transformation of facts and information to a new level of sophistication, rigor, abstraction, finesse and elegance, I find that I am called upon to fill in the gaps of the K-12 education: teaching elementary reading comprehension and writing fundamentals.  It is impossible to help students build their intellectual palaces when the building blocks of the foundation are absent.  Or, as the coach of my son’s hockey league puts it, anyone can play soccer or football, but for hockey certain basic skills must be acquired before one can even play a game.  You can’t play hockey if you can’t skate.  Well, college is like that.

Now, this student who was appealing her grade was doing so because she was hoping to transfer to another college or university and her chances of getting accepted were understandably diminished if she had an ‘F’ on her transcript.  This raises another issue concerning the academically underprepared student: the temptation to pass the buck.  I am convinced, though I don’t have the proof, that the only way these students who are barely literate graduate high school and pass college courses is due to school teachers and college professors participating in the dirtiest little secret of education today: mutual non-interference.  By “mutual non-interference” I mean the implicit agreement between teachers and students that a quid pro quo takes place; the student is given an artificially inflated grade and in return that student does not make waves for the teacher.

On the college and university level this arrangement takes on even more sinister proportions because there, as opposed to the system in the primary and secondary schools, a large component of the professors’ promotion often depends upon the evaluations filled out by the students.  If the students receive poor grades (or if they think they are going to receive poor grades) then they often translate that into low marks for the professor.  As a result there is great incentive on the part of the professor to pass the student along to the next professor or institution or employer.  As Richard Arum, co-author of Academically Adrift: Limited Learning on College Campuses says, “There’s a huge incentive set up in the system [for] asking students very little, grading them easily, entertaining them, and your course evaluations will be high.” (“A Lack of Rigor Leaves Students ‘Adrift’ In College,” NPR, Feb. 9, 2011)  Or, as Professor Paulette Kurzer admits, “You [the students] don’t place demands on me, and I don’t place demands on you.” (Declining By Degrees, transcript, p. 17)

What all levels of education have in common is that students who are satisfied with their grades (deservedly so or not) translates into fewer headaches for administrators (or, as in my case, chairs of departments).  And this means that, even in the best of circumstances where direct supervisors are fair and dedicated to the integrity of the educational process, there is a tacit real or imaginary pressure to keep the students pacified.

But why keep students pacified instead of challenged to rise to the occasion?  One explanation I’ve found in my experience teaching college (and even in my experience at private high schools) is the premium placed on “retention.”  For a variety of reasons schools, both private and public, feel the need to retain their students.  On both the college level and in the lower grades the primary drive behind this is tuition dollars.  Public primary and secondary schools receive budgets per student.  With the rise of charter schools, retaining students in schools (or attracting them from other schools) has become a financial necessity.  In higher education there is not only the financial pressure to keep students enrolled, there are other forces afoot as well: political and institutional.  In Massachusetts, for instance, a 2007 Board of Higher Education task force came up with various suggestions to raise the retention and graduation rates of the state’s community colleges.  Despite the fact that many students do not attend community colleges with the intention of graduating from those institutions, but rather transferring to a different school after a year, this still put the political pressure on to keep students enrolled whether it was in the best long-term interest of the student or not.  In other colleges and universities, public and private, there are pressures created by the various ranking systems that include among the factors evaluated, retention/attrition/graduation rates.  This creates further pressure to find ways of providing second chances for students whose best interest may be to leave the institution, viz. academic probation.  And, it also creates pressure to encourage other students to stay even if they would prefer to study elsewhere.

My student with the grade appeal wanted to transfer into another college.  Who would take her?  Why did my institution accept her?  Admissions departments are under their own pressures to be either selective (again, a factor that can boost the college’s or university’s rankings) or to meet certain externally set goals – like salespeople out to hit their quarterly quotas.  At an institution where I taught, the school had faced numerous successive years of budget shortfalls, maxed-out lines of credit, and looming accreditation ramifications for repeatedly failing to balance the books.  In order to generate more “revenue” the school abandoned its mission to serve female students and it went co-ed.  It also, apparently, abandoned its hard-earned reputation for high academic standards and a rigorous undergraduate curriculum.  The admissions office generated numbers for the projected enrolled students for each new school year and, with one exception, they fell short as did the plans to finally get the school in the black.  A death-spiral ensued – lower revenue streams meant cuts to academic and extra-curricular programs and that meant more disgruntled current students who discouraged their friends from applying and that meant fewer numbers enrolled (not to mention the attrition rate of students who either transferred because they were under-challenged or failed out because they were not prepared for higher education but were accepted due to the low standards meant to bolster the registered-students rate) and that meant lower revenue streams. . . .

Finally the administration made some very radical changes to the entire academic structure.  These changes were largely unilateral (without the input from either faculty or students) and were touted in the name of making the school more attractive to prospective students.  In effect what it did was create a number of pre-professional “pathways” (in the lingo used to sell the plan to the faculty) and this was justified by the president’s claim that in this economic environment students are concerned that they get “a marketable degree.”  In the course of presenting these pathways it was revealed that though the undergraduate tuition was set at roughly $40,000, the average scholarship or tuition-reduction was approximately $20,000.  I thus suggested that we do away with the middleman of education and simply pay half of our students a flat salary of $20,000/year to attend our institution since what they are really interested in is a job.  The other half – those who couldn’t get in elsewhere but have the money to pay for it – could pay full price for the privilege of saying that they go to a college with a marketable degree program.

Unfortunately, this wagging of the dog by its tail has become a common practice across the board and thus we are barraged by advertisements touting “accelerated degrees,” “earn a master’s of such-and-such in only one year,” and undergraduate programs that highlight the internship opportunities and on-the-job training.  Furthermore, at many of the places I’ve taught the fact that numerous first-year students do not continue through to their sophomore year is a another dirty secret: many of those students were not prepared for college but their tuition dollars were not going to let that be an obstacle to their admittance.  In other words, the weaker students basically subsidize the scholarships for the merit students.

This unethical subsidy may seem to be a good business model, but is certainly not a good educational model.  It fails to take into account the countless hours spent by dedicated faculty trying as best they can to mentor and tutor their failing students (not to mention the hours of agonizing over what to do about them and thus writing musings such as this very essay).  It fails to take into account the drag on the more motivated and prepared students.  It fails to take into account the hours of paper work spent going over academic discipline for plagiarism cases and other cases of academic dishonesty; all of which is an inefficient waste of the plentiful resources the college could be applying to actually educating the students.

What this business model does pave the way for is something quite different from the ivory tower of academia.  It lays the groundwork for for-profit institutions of higher education where the bottom line is not the success of the student as a human being, but rather, the bottom line is the bottom line.  Thus the 21st century model of higher education is pre-professional degrees and so-called “vocational” degrees at for-profit institutions.  I say “so-called” because the root of the word “vocational” is vocare: “to call,” or rather, to be called, to find one’s calling.  That’s what, in my opinion, should happen at a traditional non-for-profit liberal arts college or university.  The “vocational” schools are really, with a few exceptions, “occupational” schools where one learns a trade or an occupation, from the root, occupare, “to be busy.”  Thus we see on the horizon the looming specter of The University of Phoenix and its ilk rising like the portent of a new dark ages for the liberal arts, that is, the free arts – the arts that are free from the constraint of the marketplace, business, material necessity, and other limitations to the boundless, useless, invaluable, and frivolous realms of thought.  The liberal arts are, as Aristotle says, “good for nothing” insofar as they are not a means to something else, but a good in themselves, an intrinsic good.

For a brief spell colleges and universities carved out of the work-a-day world an idyll for thinking.  That idyll, like Ozymandias’ kingdom, like Xanadu’s pleasure-dome and Coleridge’s brief vision of it, must come to an end and make way for the stranger from Porlock.

Incipit aetas feuilletonis.