Monday, 3 August 2015

english traditions which aren't english...

It won't be a surprise to most non-English that the following traditions are not originally from England:

Home truths: five ‘English’ traditions that aren’t from England

From the WI to morris dancing to tennis – some of England’s most prized traditions and institutions originate overseas
Punch and Judy
 Mr Punch is actually Italian. Photograph: Alamy
English culture is the sum total of all the bits and pieces that have been borrowed, adapted and appropriated from other places and cultures, stitched together to form something different and distinctive. The result is that, when you try to define Englishness or try to defend some kind of pure Englishness (there is, of course, no such thing), the whole thing slips through your fingers.
Here are five institutions you might have thought were English but which actually originated elsewhere.

Morris dancing (Italian)

As with so many of the traditions that seem to be cornerstones of English life, it is difficult to trace the real origins of morris dancing. Some sources suggest it arrived in England via Italian dancers during the renaissance. Others contend that the word originally derived from “Moorish”, adopted at a time when Moorish decorations were suddenly fashionable. Even if the morris dancers were dramatising an English tradition, therefore, the bells on their ankles may have made them seem exotically foreign. It’s a mystery, but not a wholly English one.

Pigeon racing (Belgian)

Pigeon racing first attracted attention during the siege of Paris in 1870-71. The English that were present watched entranced as French pigeons carried more than a million messages to and from the city, crossing Prussian lines. But the sport of racing pigeons was developed by the Belgians, and it was only when the king of Belgium, Leopold II, gave the British royal family breeding stock that the sport took off in Britain. The first race was held there in 1881, inspired by the Belgians who would start their races in the south of England.

Punch and Judy (Italian)

Mr Punch is Italian. He derives from the commedia dell’arte and the Italian Renaissance, a direct descendent of the character Pulcinella; the show owes much to the presence of itinerant Italian players in London during the 16th century. When Samuel Pepys saw his first Punch and Judy show in Covent Garden on 9 May 1662, performed by an Italian puppeteer called Pietro Gimonde, he described it as “an Italian puppet show”.

The Women’s Institute (Canadian and a bit Welsh)

The WI began in Canada. To be precise, it was formed in 1897 in Stoney Creek, Ontario by Adelaide Hoodless, after she gave a talk at the Farmers’ Institute about domestic science and agriculture. Even when, in 1915, the movement arrived in the UK, its first branch wasn’t in England but in Llanfairpwllgwyngyll, Anglesley, where it was set up to encourage more women to get involved in food production.

Tennis (Basque, Welsh and English)

Around 1859, a Birmingham solicitor called Harry Gem and his Spanish friend Augurio Perara combined the best of rackets with the best of pelota – a Basque ball game – to create tennis. They played it on the croquet lawn at Edgbaston. When they moved to Leamington Spa in 1872, they took the game with them and founded the world’s first tennis club. The following year, Walter Wingfield, a Welsh inventor and army officer, patented a similar game which he called stické, borrowing from the Greek word sphairistiké (meaning “the art of playing ball”) and from the rules of real tennis. The two were combined, creating the game that is now played at Wimbledon and around the world.
There is no evidence that beer is anything other than English, though tea (China) and marmalade (Portuguese and other nationalities) come from overseas. As for King Arthur (partly French, partly Welsh) and Henry V (very Welsh), don’t get me started. And don’t mention bungalows (Indian), or umbrellas (French), or Christmas trees (German) …
What the English can’t do is to complain that “foreignness” begins at Calais, or that borders should be put up to protect English culture from foreign influences. Those influences, to a large degree, are English culture.
• David Boyle’s How to Be English is published by Square Peg.

Home truths: five ‘English’ traditions that aren’t from England | Books | The Guardian

Fish & chips, Saint George, a brew – all quintessentially British, right? Wrong!

I can’t believe it’s not British!

The good ole cockney accent, a stiff upper lip and a game of cricket, all typically British.
Turns out though, not everything we think of as homegrown is.

1. Fancy a cuppa? 

iStockphoto
iStockphoto
While we may like to lay claim to the mighty brew, beware…
Tea originated in China as a medicinal drink. It came West during the 16th century. But putting the kettle on for a cuppa only became fashionable in Britain during the 17th century, when King Charles II married Portuguese princess, Catherine of Braganza.
The Queen made tea the drink of royalty, which quickly became a popular import via the East India Company.

2. Oh my cod! 

iStockphoto
iStockphoto
Wrapped up in yesterday’s newspaper, this traditional greasy dinner is anything but old news. But is the seaside staple really British?
Nope!
Battered fried fish first arrived on our shores around 1660 with Jewish refugees from Portugal and Spain.
Then, 20 years later, as the story goes, a Belgian housewife unable to get hold of any fish got creative with some spuds, cutting them into fish shapes and frying them.
Us Brits can, however, take credit for uniting the two imports and serving up a classic combo.

3. Make mine a double! 

iStockphoto
iStockphoto
A pint down your local? Such a British tradition…
In fact, the great British boozer actually started out as an Italian wine bar!
It was after the arrival of the Romans, and the Roman road network, that inns began to pop up and became the go-to place for a refreshing beverage.

4. Saintly support

iStockphoto
iStockphoto
The patron saint of England, Saint George, is closely identified with us Brits and our ideals of honour, bravery and gallantry. But the legendary soldier was actually born abroad! Although many have debated his birthplace, it’s believed the dragon-slayer was born to a Greek Christian noble family in Syria.

5. Pull the chukker one! 

iStockphoto
iStockphoto
Nothing says summer to the upper classes more than a game of polo. However, it originated in Persia way back in the 6th century. And the modern incarnation for British high-rollers is an anglicised version of the game English plantation owners learned from locals in the Indian state of Assam, in the 19th century.

6. One saucy story 

iStockphoto
iStockphoto
Slathered, spattered or squirted onto your grub, you can’t beat a splodge of tommy k. The sweet yet savoury condiment is an essential for most British diners. Except, it originates from Southeast Asia, and was a completely tomato-free, fermented fish sauce…yum!

7. Eye, eye!

iStockphoto
iStockphoto
Teamed with a top hat, three-piece suit and a toff, monocles just feel British, in every respect. But the dandy little magnifying lens was actually created by Germans in the 18th century.
Still the ultimate indication of class, it was British gentlemen who popularised the so-called ‘eye ring’ at the turn of the 19th century.

8. Pedal power

iStockphoto
iStockphoto
Named after the British penny and farthing coins, one much larger than the other, you’d be forgiven for thinking us clever lot are the pedal power behind the penny-farthing bike.
Alas, it’s based on the French high-wheeler, designed by Parisian Eugène Meyer in the 1860s.
8 things that you won't believe aren't British
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Wednesday, 29 July 2015

the language of money... the language of religion... the language of love...

This is an important section from the Lord's Prayer:
And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive them that trespass against us.


Or:
'And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.

Or:
and forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone who is indebted to us.

Most Bible translations use the word "debts" in the Lord's Prayer, so why do we say "forgive us our trespasses"? | Catholic Answers

In other words, the language of debt is mixed up with the language of religion:

The Theology of Debt

Listen in pop-out player

Anthropologist David Graeber explores the theology of debt.
The Bible is peppered with the language of debt. Sin, forgiveness, reckoning, redemption - all of these words actually derive from the language of ancient finance. What's more, this seems to be true in all the great religious traditions - not just Judaism and Christianity, but Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, and Islam - all of their texts are filled with financial metaphors, many of which relate to issues surrounding debt.
We tend to think of these religions as teaching us that we must repay our debts. But the truth is that the financial metaphors in religious texts are oddly ambivalent. The original translation of the Lord's Prayer from 1381 reads "Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors". But do we forgive our debtors? Actually, most of us don't.
David Graeber explains that the great religions talk about the forgiveness of debt more than the repayment of debt and that the deeper teachings they offer is that it is the annihilation of debt which is ultimately divine. To understand why all the religious texts discuss the forgiveness of debt with such frequency, David examines the historical context of when these works were written and reveals that, in the ancient world, the institutionalised forgiveness of debts was commonplace.

▶ BBC Radio 4 - Promises, Promises: A History of Debt, The Theology of Debt
Debt: The First 5000 Years - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

How about some Shakespeare.
The Merchant of Venice | Royal Shakespeare Company | Theatre
The Merchant of Venice 2004 - YouTube

With a nice little summary here:
The Merchant of Venice Summary by Shmoop - YouTube


Why the Merchant of Venice is on the money

In a time of anxiety about debt, the latest RSC production about to be screened in cinemas strikes a nerve. Yet the play also warns against the language of money infecting our lives and loves


2004, THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
 Cheap talk … Al Pacino as Shylock (left) and Jeremy Irons as Antonio (far right) in the 2004 film adaptation of The Merchant of Venice. Photograph: Allstar/Sony Pictures
As a tale of debt mercilessly pursued, The Merchant of Venice, it seems, will always be topical. In planning new productions at the Globe in the spring and theRSC this summer – the latter to be broadcast live in cinemas on 22 July – theatrical producers didn’t necessarily have the battle between Greece and the EU in mind. But they did know the UK was going to have a general election that would largely focus on the right way to manage the country’s money. Shakespeare’s play, of course, is all about money. But more specifically, it is all about the danger of allowing ideas associated with money to reign over our non-economic lives.
A few years ago, I saw Al Pacino playing Shylock in an open-air production in New York’s Central Park. The scenery-chewing eccentricity of Pacino’s performance turned out to be a compelling match for his outcast character, but the production’s most striking aspect was the ironic weight the actors gave to all the financial metaphors that Shakespeare deploys in the love plot. Bassanio’s pursuit of Portia is first announced as his scheme “to get clear of all the debts I owe”, because Portia is rich. He refers to Portia’s famed “worth”, and calls her a “rich” “gem”. He marvels: “Look on beauty, / And you shall see ’tis purchas’d by the weight.” And while Shylock demands the fulfilment of the “bond” that Antonio signed, the pledged lovers twitter happily about “love’s bonds”, and Graziano speaks of the “bargain” of their faith. At the end, Portia tells Antonio that he is going to be Bassanio’s “surety”, to guarantee his faithfulness.

Patsy Ferran And Nadia Albina in The Merchant of Venice. Photograph: Hugo Glendinning
Pinterest
 Nadia Albina and Patsy Ferran in the RSC’s Merchant of Venice. Photograph: Hugo Glendinning

It seemed obvious, in that production’s aftermath, that Shakespeare was satirising the commercialisation of love relations, the infection of ordinary life by money-talk. Yet most critics – including the editor of the Arden Shakespeare edition, John Russell Brown – have assumed that the Portia story represents a redemptive and happy version of finance, shown to be harmonious with true love. There seems an awful lot of room to doubt this interpretation. For example, Portia promises to pay off Antonio’s debt and then says: “Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear.” Alexander Pope thought this line unworthy of Shakespeare, but Brown calls it “a joyful acknowledgement of the pleasures of giving for love”. Yet it’s surely a deliberately uncomfortable echo of Shylock’s reference, in the trial scene, to his “dearly bought” pound of flesh.


After the game of rings in the play, the Arden editor concludes: “Love is not like merchandise; it is not simply a question of possessor and possessed.” This is nice to think, but it sounds more like Brown’s uplifting moral than Shakespeare’s. At the outset, Bassanio has announced his scheme to marry Portia with the words: “I have a mind presages me such thrift / That I should questionless be fortunate.” Thrift means mercenary profit in particular (Shylock refers to his own “well-won thrift”) as well as success more generally; while Bassanio’s “fortunate” is the kind of pun a man makes with dollar signs in his eyes.
Not only romantic love but friendship, too, is metaphorically securitised in this play, as when Bassanio says: “to you Antonio / I owe the most in money and in love”. (Note that the cash debt is mentioned before the love debt.) For his part, Antonio says to Salarino: “Your worth is very dear in my regard.” There does not seem sufficient rhetorical quarantine established between these usages and Shylock’s naked announcement of a deliberate trade (“To buy his favour, I extend this friendship”) to keep the former as innocent as a sunnily redemptive interpretation of the play would wish.
The Merchant of Venice also plays on the semantic doublings (relatively recent at the time) of terms such as “interest” and “credit”. “Interest” was curiosity, or a legal claim to something, before it became the mechanism by which money breeds more money, and “credit” was belief. And so, for instance, Bassanio’s greeting, “Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither, / If that the youth of my new int’rest here / Have power to bid you welcome” is sardonically echoed by Shylock, referring to “my well-won thrift, / Which he [Antonio] calls interest”. And Antonio’s announcement that he will “go forth / Try what my credit can in Venice do … ” is mirrored by Portia’s instruction to Bassanio to “swear by your double self, / And there’s an oath of credit”.
The historian Quentin Skinner argues, in his classic 1974 essay “Some Problems in the Analysis of Political Thought and Action”, that the emerging merchant class deliberately adopted such virtuous terms to describe their own activities. And this has had long and arguably noxious effects ever since. In Hamlet, the hero expresses his ennui at one point by declaring: “How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world … ” The word “profitable” meant advantageous in a general sense before it acquired its financial meaning of “lucrative”, about 100 years later. (The root, “profit”, is from the Latin for progress or benefit.) When Hamlet says the uses of the world seem “unprofitable” to him, he is not complaining that he can’t figure out a way to get rich quick. But once the term “profitable” was adopted for the meaning of “offering financial gain”, it tended to imply something that we might not want to take for granted: that only what is “profitable” in the monetary sense is “profitable” in the general sense of useful or beneficial.
Centuries later, our ordinary language today is shot through with economic metaphor. And the effect might be to encourage our thoughts to run along certain rails rather than others. For an exclusively economic definition of the good is often built into our speech. Take, for instance, the term “investment”. This originally meant simply the putting on of clothes, or the clothes themselves. But then it acquired a financial sense, in the dealings of the East India company in the 17th century. And now “investment” is one of those primarily financial terms that is also morally inflected in a positive way: “investment” is distinguished from “speculation”, which is supposed to be mere reckless gambling; it is prudent and wise and good for everyone. (In fact, “speculation” itself meant scientific observation or hypothetical reasoning before it acquired a disapproving financial sense in the late 18th century.)
We also, after all, use the term “investment” today when we’re not talking about money. We might say something is a good “investment” of time, or energy. But the financial crisis has reminded us that, as they say in the small print, the value of your investment can go down as well as up. And anyway, isn’t it strange, when you think about it, to speak of investing time? When you invest time in something, you don’t get that time back at a later date, with added interest. The time is gone, whatever you did with it.
Instead we sometimes talk about “spending” time. (In Merchant, Antonio mildly rebukes Bassanio thus: “You know me well, and herein spend but time / To wind about my love with circumstance.”) But still, as with investing time, “spending” time conceives of time as a currency. The implication that mere moment-to-moment existence is a transaction, and that you expect to get something from it, might imply a strange way to live.
Another metaphorical currency in our language is attention. “Pay attention.” All right, perhaps I’ll “pay” attention, but I’m going to want something in return. The danger is that conceiving of matters of the intellect as transactions might lead to a certain impatience, a sense of entitlement, or even a more general instrumentalisation of reason. If education, for example, has no “payoff” – if it’s not going to be “profitable” in the commercial sense – why should anyone pursue it?
When we talk meanwhile about the “payoff” of a piece of writing or a work of art, we’re implicitly constraining the field of our evaluation to the instant effect, the immediate reaction. That way, we risk elevating the merely sensational over the more ambiguous or deep. This seems to be clear if we imagine asking the question: “So, what’s the payoff of virtue ethics; what’s the payoff of Beethoven’s Ninth or The Tempest?” Just to ask the question seems a little … well, cheap.
“Cheap”, of course, is another economic metaphor that we often use in an unexamined way. To equate an intellectually unrigorous idea or a morally shabby act – “what you did was really cheap”, or “that was a cheap shot” – with a commodity whose price is low certainly works to the benefit of people who want to sell us commodities at high prices. As Skinner points out, the term “commodity” itself meant convenience or benefit before it was hijacked to describe a thing to be bought and sold. Hence another pun in The Merchant of Venice, where Antonio warns: “For the commodity that strangers have / With us in Venice, if it be denied, / Will much impeach the justice of the state”.
We are now plainly living in what the writer FS Michaels calls an “economic monoculture”, where an economic definition of success is the dominant “story” – it’s what rules our lives, not just at work but in our relationships, and our ideas of education, health, and so forth. The economic metaphors of our everyday conversation are part of the invisible substructure of this monoculture, and tend to undermine attempts to rewrite the dominant story.
English, they say, is fast becoming or has already become the global lingua franca. And English is infested with ossified metaphors from finance. Embedded within our language are innumerable attitudes to money and work that are at the very least arguable, or ought to be argued for explicitly. If we wish to rethink our political economy in whole or in part, it will help to make sure that our language is not betraying us as we speak.
• The RSC production of The Merchant of Venice is broadcast live in cinemas on 22 July. onscreen.rsc.org.uk.

Why the Merchant of Venice is on the money | Stage | The Guardian
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Wednesday, 22 July 2015

the purpose of education: from china to prussia to the united states

The purpose of education has always been moral:



Maintaining Classroom Discipline by using Democratic Methods - YouTube



Let's Be Good American Citizens at School - 1953 Educational Documentary - Ella73TV - YouTube

However, recently, moral panic has swept the West:

Pisa full results graphic - amended

Jay Doubleyou: panic in the west over educational achievements in the far east

But should these comparisons be made?

In fact, it was Europe and not China which developed modern technology:
BBC Radio 4 - In Our Time, The Needham Question
Great Divergence - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

The "Golden Mean" Doctrine in the Chinese cultural tradition is not conducive to the cultivation of innovative scientists.
Why can’t China win the Nobel Prize?
CHINESE SCIENCE AND THE ‘NOBEL PRIZE COMPLEX’

Because, it could be said, the education system in China and the East Asia tends to produce students of a certain type:



Be Glad for Our Failure to Catch Up with China in Education | Psychology Today

But hold on: things aren't that great in 'the West' either...

Despite more and more money going into schools, literacy rates have collapsed in the West:

According to John Taylor Gatto, once a New York Teacher of the Year, military applicants in the 1930s tested 98 percent literate.  During World War II our soldiers’ literacy rate was 96 percent.  In 1950 only 81 percent of Korean war enlistees passed literacy tests, and by the 1970s, during the Vietnam war, the percent was down to 73.
Maybe that drop can be explained by an army recruited increasingly from the unprivileged.  But Gatto points out that in 1940 the general white population tested four percent illiterate and blacks 20 percent.  Now the numbers are 17 and 44 percent.  Black illiteracy has doubled, white has quadrupled.

What's Wrong With the Schools? - The Donella Meadows Institute
Everything We Think About Schooling Is Wrong! 

Here is John Taylor Gatto:


Mini-Documentary - John Taylor Gatto - MUST SEE! - "Classrooms of the Heart" - YouTube
Jay Doubleyou: john taylor gatto - best teacher ever

And here is his explanation for why 'education standards' have been declining:

... you shouldn’t be fooled any more than Charles Francis Adams was fooled when he observed in 1880 that what was being cooked up for kids unlucky enough to be snared by the newly proposed institutional school net combined characteristics of the cotton mill and the railroad with those of a state prison.
Forced schooling was the medicine to bring the whole continental population into conformity with these plans so that it might be regarded as a “human resource” and managed as a “workforce.” No more Ben Franklins or Tom Edisons could be allowed; they set a bad example. One way to manage this was to see to it that individuals were prevented from taking up their working lives until an advanced age when the ardor of youth and its insufferable self-confidence had cooled.
From the beginning, there was purpose behind forced schooling, purpose which had nothing to do with what parents, kids, or communities wanted. Instead, this grand purpose was forged out of what a highly centralized corporate economy and system of finance bent on internationalizing itself was thought to need; that, and what a strong, centralized political state needed, too. School was looked upon from the first decade of the twentieth century as a branch of industry and a tool of governance.
Schooling an Industrial Proletariat : The Freeman : Foundation for Economic Education

John Taylor Gatto has had a lot more to say about education:
Jay Doubleyou: john taylor gatto - best teacher ever

We might well praise the achievements of the German education system:
Jay Doubleyou: neets - again
'The best engineers come from Germany' - BBC News

However, this is what Gatto has to say about the foundations of that system:



The Prussian Connection to American Schooling (Part 1), by John Taylor Gatto - YouTube
Prussian education system - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Full text of "John Taylor Gatto The Underground History Of American Education Book"

And here he makes it clear, in his opinion at least, what 'the purpose of education' is:



John Taylor Gatto - The Purpose Of Schooling - YouTube

With the full text here:
John Taylor Gatto – The Purpose of SchoolingTruth versus Disinformation . . . Everything You Know is Wrong About Schooling

Here's an overview:
Human Resources: Gatto explains the seedy origin of public education-indoctrination - YouTube

This is John Taylor Gatto's own life experience:
The Hall of Mirrors by John Taylor Gatto - Life Learning Magazine

But it's not just Gatto who has pronounced on these things:

H. L. Mencken, who wrote in The American Mercury for April 1924 that the aim of public education is not ‘to fill the young of the species with knowledge and awaken their intelligence. ... Nothing could be further from the truth. The aim ... is simply to reduce as many individuals as possible to the same safe level, to breed and train a standardized citizenry, to put down dissent and originality. That is its aim in the United States... and that is its aim everywhere else.’

Woodrow Wilson, then president of Princeton University, said the following to the New York City School Teachers Association in 1909: "We want one class of persons to have a liberal education, and we want another class of persons, a very much larger class, of necessity, in every society, to forgo the privileges of a liberal education and fit themselves to perform specific difficult manual tasks."

In the 1934 edition of his once well-known book Public Education in the United States, Ellwood P. Cubberley detailed and praised the way the strategy of successive school enlargements had extended childhood by two to six years, and forced schooling was at that point still quite new. This same Cubberley - who was dean of Stanford's School of Education - had written the following in the 1922 edition of his book Public School Administration: "Our schools are ...factories in which the raw products (children) are to be shaped and fashioned .... And it is the business of the school to build its pupils according to the specifications laid down."


Against School, by John Taylor Gatto
Jay Doubleyou: dumbing us down

Ivan Illich, another 'radical' educator had this to say:



Scary School Nightmare - YouTube
Deschooling Society - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Jay Doubleyou: deschooling society

Which leads us to some 'solutions'...

Don't go to school:

Do we really need school? I don't mean education, just forced schooling: six classes a day, five days a week, nine months a year, for twelve years. Is this deadly routine really necessary? And if so, for what? Don't hide behind reading, writing, and arithmetic as a rationale, because 2 million happy homeschoolers have surely put that banal justification to rest. Even if they hadn't, a considerable number of well-known Americans never went through the twelve-year wringer our kids currently go through, and they turned out all right. George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln? Someone taught them, to be sure, but they were not products of a school system, and not one of them was ever 'graduated" from a secondary school. Throughout most of American history, kids generally didn't go to high school, yet the unschooled rose to be admirals, like Farragut; inventors, like Edison; captains of industry, like Carnegie and Rockefeller; writers, like Melville and Twain and Contad; and even scholars, like Margaret Mead.

How could penniless elementary school dropout Edison grow up on his own in a working-class environment, invent the electric light, the phonograph, win 1,003 patents, and build General Electric? Edison had contempt for college graduates and discriminated against them in hiring all his life. 


WEAPONS OF MASS INSTRUCTION

Try home-schooling:
Jay Doubleyou: explaining how your country's education system works

“Now for the good news… School trains children to be employees and consumers; teach your own to be leaders and adventurers. School trains children to obey reflexively; teach your own to think critically and independently. Well-schooled kids have a low threshold for boredom; help your own to develop an inner life so that they’ll never be bored. Urge them to take on the serious material, the grown-up material, in history, literature, philosophy, music, art, economics, theology – all the stuff schoolteachers know well enough to avoid. Challenge your kids with plenty of solitude so that they can learn to enjoy their own company, to conduct inner dialogues. Well-schooled people are conditioned to dread being alone, and they seek constant companionship through the TV, the computer, the cell phone, and through shallow friendships quickly acquired and quickly abandoned. Your children should have a more meaningful life, and they can.
First, though, we must wake up to what our schools really are: laboratories of experimentation on young minds, drill centers for the habits and attitudes that corporate society demands. Mandatory education serves children only incidentally; its real purpose is to turn them into servants. Don’t let your own have their childhoods extended, not even for a day. If David Farragut could take command of a captured British warship as a preteen, if Thomas Edison could publish a broadsheet at the age of twelve, if Ben Franklin could apprentice himself to a printer at the same age (then put himself through a course of study that would choke a Yale senior today), there’s no telling what your own kids could do. After a long life, and thirty years in the public school trenches, I’ve concluded that genius is as common as dirt. We suppress our genius only because we haven’t yet figured out how to manage a population of educated men and women. The solution, I think, is simple and glorious. Let them manage themselves.”
John Taylor Gatto: Why Public Education Cripples Our Kids | COMMON CORE

Look at how 'elite' private schools prepare children to face the world:



John Taylor Gatto 14 Principles of an Elite Boarding School Curriculum Build a better you - YouTube
Elite Boarding Schools' Curriculum - Mark D. Carlson
John Taylor Gatto’s 14 Themes of the Elite Private School Curriculum

See also:
Jay Doubleyou: socratic method
Jay Doubleyou: socratic method pt 2

And:
Jay Doubleyou: questioning and problem-solving

And:
Jay Doubleyou: teaching the teachers: the future of education

Lastly:
Human Resources - YouTube
Taylorism on ABC World Report - YouTube
The Scientific Management of Children - John Taylor Gatto - YouTube

But not quite:
David Graeber interview: ‘So many people spend their working lives doing jobs they think are unnecessary’ | Books | The Guardian
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Monday, 20 July 2015

the fad for teach-yourself

There has been quite a tradition in Britain for 'teach yourself':
Teach Yourself - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Amazon.co.uk: Teach Yourself Store: Books: Languages, Travel & Holiday, Books for Study & More

But could you ever get up to this level?
Jay Doubleyou: 10 tips and tricks to pick up any language
Jay Doubleyou: polyglots

Here is a very entertaining programme on the subject
- start at the beginning, or a little in, at 2:10;
- or with the bit about Linguaphone at 7:15:

How to Make an Archive on 4

Listen in pop-out player

Ever wondered how to make an Archive on 4? Here's your chance to find out!
Alan Dein enters the strange world of instructional records where you can teach yourself just about anything - from yodelling to training your budgie to talk.
It all started in 1901 when Polish émigré Jacques Roston harnessed the new technology of sound recording to teach foreign languages, signing up such luminaries as George Bernard Shaw and JRR Tolkien to lend their support.
By the 50s and 60s you could buy LPs on how to do just about anything - from keep fit to playing a musical instrument, relaxation and passing your driving test.
Perhaps the most surprising are those which help you to train your pet budgerigar to talk - with help from Sparkie, Britain's favourite budgie, who supposedly had a vocabulary of over 500 words.
With help from Sparkie, Alan Dein tells the story of instructional records and, along the way, reveals a few of the secrets of how to make an Archive on 4.


BBC Radio 4 - Archive on 4, How to Make an Archive on 4
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education

What is the purpose of school?

Ivan Illich:
Jay Doubleyou: deschooling society

John Taylor Gatto:
Jay Doubleyou: dumbing us down
Jay Doubleyou: john taylor gatto - best teacher ever

And the result is:

A 'permanent underclass':
Jay Doubleyou: neets
Jay Doubleyou: neets - again

Moral panic:
Jay Doubleyou: panic in the west over educational achievements in the far east
Jay Doubleyou: education in the uk - high university intake - low literacy rates

What do you know about the British school system?

Public schools and home-schooling:
Jay Doubleyou: explaining how your country's education system works

Are there alternatives?
Jay Doubleyou: socratic method
Jay Doubleyou: socratic method pt 2
Jay Doubleyou: questioning and problem-solving

Sugata Mitra:
Jay Doubleyou: teaching the teachers: the future of education
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