罗素经典英语散文

罗素经典

英语

散文：

Education and Discipline

Any serious educational theory must consist of two parts: a conception of the ends of life, and a science of psychological dynamics, i.e., of the laws of mental

change.

Two

men

who

differ

as

to

the

ends

of

life

cannot

hope

to

agree

about

education.

The

educational

machine,

throughout

Western

civilization,

is

dominated by two ethical theories: that of Christianity, and that of nationalism. These two, when taken seriously, are incompatible, as is becoming evident in

Germany.

For

my

part,

I

hold

that

where

they

differ,

Christianity

is

preferable,

but

where

they

agree,

both

are

mistaken.

The

conception

which

I

should

substitute as the purpose of education is civilization, a term which, as I meant it, has a definition which is partly individual, partly social. It consists, in the

individual, of both intellectual and moral qualities: intellectually, a certain minimum of general knowledge, technical skill in one's own profession, and a habit

of

forming

opinions

on

evidence;

morally,

of

impartiality,

kindliness,

and

a

modicum

of

self-control.

I

should

add

a

quality

which

is

neither

moral

nor

intellectual, but perhaps physiological: zest and joy of life. In communities, civilization demands respect for law, justice as between man and man, purposes

not involving permanent injury to any section of the human race, and intelligent adaptation of means to ends.

If these are to be the purpose of education, it is a question for the science of psychology to consider what can be done towards realizing them, and, in particular,

what degree of freedom is likely to prove most effective.

On

the

question

of

freedom

in

education

there

are

at

present

three

main

schools

of

thought,

deriving

partly

from

differences

as

to

ends

and

partly

from

differences in psychological theory. There are those who say that children should be completely free, however bad they may be; there are those who say they

should be completely subject to authority, however good they may be; and there are those who say they should be free, but in spite of freedom they should be

always good. This last party is larger than it has any logical right to be; Children, like adults, will not all be virtuous if they are all free. The belief that liberty

will insure moral perfection is a relic of Rousseauism, and would not survive a study of animals and babies. Those who hold this belief think that education

should have no positive purpose, but should merely offer an environment suitable for spontaneous development. I cannot agree with this school, which seems

too individualistic, and

unduly indifferent

to the

importance

of

knowledge. We

live

in communities which

require

cooperation,

and

it would be

utopian to

expect all the necessary cooperation to result from spontaneous impulse. The existence of a large population on a limited area is only possible owing to science

and technique; education must, therefore, hand on the necessary minimum of these. The educators who allow most freedom are men whose success depends

upon

a

degree

of

benevolence,

self-control,

and

trained

intelligence

which

can

hardly

be

generated

where

every

impulse

is

left

unchecked;

their

merits,

therefore, are not likely to be perpetuated if their methods are undiluted. Education, viewed from a social standpoint, must be something more positive than a

mere opportunity for growth. It must, of course, provide this, but it must also provide a mental and moral equipment which children cannot acquire entirely for

themselves.

The arguments in favor of a great degree of freedom in education are derived not from man's natural goodness, but from the effects of authority, both on those

who suffer it and on those who exercise it. Those who are subject to authority become either submissive or rebellious, and each attitude has its drawbacks.

The submissive lose initiative, both in thought and action; moreover, the anger generated by the feeling of being thwarted tends to find an outlet in bullying

those

who

are

weaker.

That

is

why

tyrannical

institutions

are

self-perpetuating:

what

a

man

has

suffered

from

his

father

he

inflicts

upon

his

son,

and

the

humiliations

which

he

remembers

having

endured

at

his

public

school

he

passes

on

to

when

he

becomes

an

empire-builder.

Thus

an

unduly

authoritative education turns the pupils into timid tyrants, incapable of either claiming or tolerating originality in word or deed. The effect upon the educators is

even worse: they tend to become sadistic disciplinarians, glad to inspire terror, and content to inspire nothing else. As these men represent knowledge, the

pupils acquire a horror of knowledge, which, among the English upper class, is supposed to be part of human nature, but is really part of the well-grounded

hatred of the authoritarian pedagogue.

Rebels, on the other hand, though they

may

be necessary, can hardly be just to what exists. Moreover, there are

many ways of

rebelling, and only a small

minority of these are wise. Galileo was a rebel and was wise; believers in the flat-earth theory are equally rebels, but are foolish. There is a great danger in the

tendency

to

suppose

that

opposition

to

authority

is

essentially

meritorious

and

that

unconventional

opinions

are

bound

to

be

correct:

no

useful

purpose

is

served by smashing lamp-posts or maintaining Shakespeare to be no poet. Yet this excessive rebelliousness is often the effect that too much authority has on

spirited pupils. And when rebels become educators, they sometimes encourage defiance in their pupils, for whom at the same time they are trying to produce a

perfect environment, although these two aims are scarcely compatible.

What is wanted is neither submissiveness nor rebellion, but good nature, and general friendliness both to people and to new ideas. These qualities are due in

part to physical causes, to which old-fashioned educators paid too little attention; but they are due still more to freedom from the feeling of baffled impotence