Padd Solutions

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Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts

Many things are more deterministic than we think. We are not so different from who we used to be. Even societies may persist with their old ways, unbeknownst to its members, long after the reins have changed hands.

Simply put, we are constrained by our past choices and directions—a phenomenon known as path dependency. We cannot simply change the direction in which we are moving at any time of our choosing because we cannot will away the present consequences and implications of the past.

Hence, while we often wonder why a problem cannot be fixed, the answer can be found in history.

Why is creativity and entrepreneurship so underdeveloped in this society, for example? That is to a large extent a colonial legacy. Colonial governments were focused on the extraction of resources and the development of trade in the colonies for the benefit of the empire. These required the establishment of strong bureaucracies and civil services to administrate the territories in a stable and efficient way. Hence, education in a colony was geared towards training local elites to be obedient but skilled administrators, not towards developing critical thinkers, leaders and entrepreneurs. This system was then found to be convenient by the new government of the independent colony, who continued to have need of able administrators and to desire stability and quick prosperity. The system, therefore, remains entrenched.

So there's the answer. We cannot so easily abandon what we were—the past casts long shadows on any probable future.


Recently, someone asked, "Do the humanities have a future?" They certainly do have a future, but I'm not optimistic it would be something that I would consider to be good.

Not everyone thinks the same way, though. In the first place, their notion of what is good for the humanities is different. Some cite the proportionately higher numbers of humanities graduates employed in management roles as a sign that the humanities are in a good place. Others reporting less stellar outlooks note that someone with a humanities degree still tends to earn more than someone without a degree, and that when the economy picks up, questions regarding the future of the humanities will die down again as graduates have a much easier time finding work.

However, these seem to be rather odd things to say where the humanities are concerned. In modern society, common wisdom has it that education and industry should function symbiotically, with schools feeding industry with the manpower and skilled personnel that it needs. But the humanities often impart a very different worldview, one where human life is far richer than simply work life; one where the goal of learning is not just to make money or to become a useful cog in the industrial machine.

If one takes the lessons from the humanities seriously, then one would be quite ill-suited for the kind of life where economic concerns are to be privileged above everything else. One would therefore be at a disadvantage in an environment driven overwhelmingly by competition for economic advancement. Thus, someone who has a bad career progression in modern industrial society, or someone who is consumed by internal conflict, seems quite a natural product of education in the humanities today.

So if the success of the humanities is to be measured by society by how well their graduates are advancing themselves economically, then I'd say that the future of the humanities is bleak indeed. How can it be otherwise, when they are made to produce what they were ideologically never supposed to produce?


Some people have idealised views of how they can change the world or their surroundings. It's good that these people have dreams, but even if those dreams can be translated into action, it's worth asking if the action would make any real difference. If not, then it would be quite silly for them to think that they are actually doing something.

Recently, as part of their school project, a group of students in Singapore decided to reach out to foreign workers who are employed to do 'low-skilled' jobs. As a result of this outreach, the students have put up an account of the workers' daily lives and their struggle to earn in a living in a society composed mostly of people of entirely different classes from them, a society that mostly ignores their existence.

This is a wonderful attempt at raising social awareness. But, unfortunately, it stops there. I find the students' recommendations for future action particularly uninspiring. The following is what they advocate, in full:
All i want to say, is that we should really learn to appreciate and accept them as our equal. Maybe the next time we see them, we could perhaps just give them a simple smile, or even a word of thanks, to show our appreciation for what they are doing, I'm sure it would make their day. Or at the very least, the next time we see them, we can just try not to pull an ugly face or walk away.

Thank you for taking time to read this, and although every share would not get a dollar donated or anything, but every share is a step closer to a warmer, more accepting society.
It seems not a little naive and condescending to acknowledge that low-skilled foreign workers are economically marginalised while acting as though social acceptance and recognition are going to improve their lot. Yes, levels of social awareness are painfully low in Singapore such that having any is quite commendable. But, having become aware, what are you going to do about the system and the government that author such oppression?

I find the above project to be the humanitarian equivalent of "sending positive vibes" to help people who are faced with problems. It tries to engender good sentiments but does nothing in reality. While these workers may appreciate your reaching out to them, the failure to even mention political and economic solutions makes this gesture seem almost as hollow as the act of spamming of "Kony 2012" on the Internet, a recent example of slacktivism. Raising awareness becomes simply a way to soothe your own conscience when you're not prepared to ask the tough questions and talk about real measures to create change.

So stop just smiling like fools in a photo op—bare your teeth and attack injustice at its source.

Illustration by Frank Chimero

I keep coming back to David Brooks' article on finding a job because I'm quite fascinated by its message. When I first read it last spring, my first reaction was to be indignant. I was still working towards my degree and feeling secure in school. I still had a little confidence that if I did well, it wouldn't be a problem finding a rewarding job that I am passionate about.

Six months after graduating, and having indeed done well in school, I have lost all that confidence as I continue to look for paid and fulfilling work (I have done unpaid work in the meantime, so I'm not just being lazy). I find myself applying to a variety of positions just so that I can pay my own rent and gain any professional experience that will be useful later.

So was Brooks right? Is it a matter of applying yourself to whatever opportunity comes up and not of finding the opportunities you want? In a practical sense, he is certainly right. Do most young job seekers have any other choice in these times?

But, inside, I'm still resistant to his message. There is something I fundamentally disagree with, and it's not just because I'm being naive and idealistic. Yet I could never put my finger on what. Until now.

Imagine a society where a typical adult has prosthetic limbs. It’s normal to have them and they are seen as an important part of what it means to be an adult and a full-fledged member of this society. These prosthetic limbs are advanced enough that they don't hinder people's day-to-day functioning. In fact, they perform better compared to natural limbs, which is originally why people do this. The only price you have to pay is the relatively small cost of the operation and the moderate amount of temporary physical pain associated with the process. To some young people, this procedure might seem a little frightening. They might express their reservations about it and they might even try to negotiate a way out. But the adults who have gone through the procedure pooh-pooh these feelings. It's just part of the process of growing up, they say; you'll get used to it.

But what these adults don't realise is the price paid in terms of the loss of your natural limbs. They have already paid that price, so they can easily forget about it. Only practical concerns enter into their calculations. Young people, however, may be aware of this price. They may like they way they are and don't like the idea of being compelled to cut off parts of themselves as part of a self-augmentation procedure.

This is essentially the problem with Brooks' message. He is arguing not only for the practicality of simply grabbing whatever opportunity comes up, but also that this is quite natural and is, in fact, good for young people because that is how they will find themselves. It doesn't seem to occur to him that who young people are before they enter the working world may hold some value that will be lost in the process.

Thus, capitalist wisdom, as articulated by Brooks, holds that one's self identity cannot be complete without being shaped by one's role in the capitalist relations of production. While it's true that the latter tends to shape one's self identity, such wisdom jumps the gun by normalising this process and not recognising prior identities as being complete and worthy of holding on to. And it glosses over this uncomfortable point by assuming that youth precludes having a strong self identity in the first place, which allows it to posit the process of finding one's career as incontrovertibly and necessarily part of the process of 'growing up' and becoming a fully-formed human being. In other words, it tells young people to just do as the market dictates because who they are before that doesn't really matter anyway.

I dislike this message very much because, inside, I feel that who I am is important in considering what I’m going to do for a living. Even if I am presently just an inexperienced young person, I like who I am and dislike things that try to force me to become someone I am not. And I realise that the process of finding employment often entails the latter.

Besides, this is just the beginning. When I do get one of these positions, I will have to live with it every day. That’s when the person I am will begin to change, and I’m not sure if that will be for the better.


Singapore is a bit like a child who was bullied and looked down on by its peers—it grew up having something to prove.

The insecurities of Singaporean society are a reflection of the insecurities of its founding fathers. And as all deep psychological traumas go, the result is a pathological pattern of behaviour—in this case, the perpetual post-Separation obsession with proving that it can prosper without natural resources and an initial industrial base.

To this end, Singapore has transformed itself into a rentier state in all but name. And the resource that is rented: Human labour. Factories and offices in Singapore are in principle no different from the sweatshops of the Third World, riding on loose or non-existent labour laws and wage legislation that help make the country competitive as a magnet for foreign investment. Politically, in order to facilitate this path of economic development, security and stability have been prioritised over other goals such as democracy and social justice—again, much in the manner of the archetypal rentier state.

What sets Singapore apart from other rentier states that rely on renting its workforce to foreign investors is the kind of industries it seeks to attract. Thus, a significant part of the workforce has to be trained and educated enough to do the kind of work that those industries require, but not in a manner that is enough to enable them to challenge the country's socio-economic trajectory.

That is the essence of Singapore's famous economic and political pragmatism.

However, popular dissatisfaction with its immigration policy and with falling standards in the provision of public services point to a parallel but related trend in the country's political and economic stance.

Even the most diligent of workers may not be able to stomach the fate of forever being a mere cog in the economic machine. Hence, as a form of compensation for their dedication to the government's vision, citizens were promised comfortable middle class lifestyles that were ensured by the provision of subsidised high-quality public services. This is one of the reasons why the government has invested heavily in the country's healthcare and transportation infrastructuresthings that are, incidentally, important in maintaining the productivity of the workforce.

This social compact has held until fairly recently. As Singapore increasingly aligned itself with the neoliberal paradigm, however, the old wisdom of labour market liberalisation—which also happens to be a core tenet of neoliberalism—was eventually joined by the move towards the privatisation of state-owned enterprises.

With this move, naturally, came an increased emphasis on profitability, which has been blamed for the fall in service standards in the country's public transportation system, as demonstrated by the recent and unprecedented major disruptions to urban rail services.  At the same time, fares continue to increase, which only helps to lend credence to the notion that the privatisation of public transport has not been in the public's interest.

In addition, as an extension of its stance towards the labour market, Singapore is importing large numbers of cheap workers in its continuing effort to keep labour costs low, thereby contributing to overcrowding and adding to the stress on the country's infrastructure.

Thus, Singaporeans can no longer expect the nanny state to take care of them. Now, all we get in return for our hard work and dedication are promises that are no longer backed by concrete socio-economic support structures. We may have been a first-class rentier state before, but now, with increasing income inequality and decreasing welfare, there is less and less to separate us from the neighbouring states we so enjoy looking down on.

Can things change? Perhaps with the aid of the vast sums of public money that is currently given to the government's investment bankers with little or no public oversight. Will things change? Probably not if we are counting on the old guard to make it happen.

Unfortunately, at the rate we are going, change probably won't come soon enough. Add in the uncertainty in the global economy and the prospect of slower growth, and you know we're in for a rough ride. 

So, in light of our predicament, let me say this: Welcome to the 21st century, ladies and gentlemen. The worst is yet to be.


Let's face it, adults as a group are pretty bad at giving advice to young people. For example, if young people aim low, adults tell them to aim higher and have more ambition; on the other hand, if young people aim high, adults tell them to be realistic and to pay their dues first. Basically, a lot of advice actually boils down to "do/don't do what I did" or "be/don't be like me".

Then there are those who assume that people think or should think they way they do, and this group certainly includes young people as well.

In times of great uncertainty, the advice and words of wisdom become especially loud and numerous, as everyone chimes in on what they think people should or will do. And I dare say that most of them haven't got a clue.

Now, on the Guardian's question of whether the tripling of tuition fees to £9,000 will inevitably turn students into consumers –this is a silly question and those who are happy with it are quite inevitably going to come up with silly answers. I mean, it implies that students haven't always been consumers. Does the price of a good determine whether you are a consumer? Or is there some kind of a consumer continuum? Shoppers at cheap Tesco are not as much consumers as shoppers at Waitrose?

Of course, this doesn't matter to those who wish to use the question as an excuse to air their self-righteous opinions and advice. In particular, I'm thinking of those who would take this opportunity to remind young people of the value of education, of which they are themselves naturally and keenly aware.

But instead of rushing to tell people what they should or will do, let's address the question carefully. Aside from the fact that it seems to be predicated on the strange idea that students aren't already consumers of education, there is a related question that we must first ask: What qualities can we objectively attach to consumers as a group? Certainly, there are examples of consumers behaving both rationally and irrationally. At times, they are able to make pretty good cost/benefit calculations and drive the market in a way that benefits them; at other times, they consume almost mindlessly. The diversity of consumer behaviour means we cannot assign any particular quality to consumers in their capacity as consumers and argue whether students will be more or less like them.

It also suggests that it is difficult, if not impossible, to predict how students will generally behave due to the fee increase, beyond invoking a basic economic maxim and saying that demand for higher education will almost certainly go down to some extent.

So there really isn't a good answer to the question of whether university students will become consumers, not even if we interpret it as one that is concerned with the value that future students will place on university education.

Is that a boring answer? Well, I think it certainly beats the millionth musing on how students don't value the education they are receiving enough.


It is often said that knowledge is power. Is it? Or does knowledge simply avail us to the means of power, if that?

There are criticisms to be made of the naive view that knowledge can automatically solve the world's ills, but we do not even have to venture there. In the first place, we should ask what kind of knowledge is regarded as power.

It stands to reason that not all kinds of knowledge can be associated with power. But aside from the fact that some knowledge is obviously of limited use, there's a particular kind that is foremost in the hierarchy of knowledge, being perhaps the only kind that is really recognised as empowering in the minds of many: Actionable knowledge.

In a way, this is apt when we consider the naive belief that knowledge is automatically empowering. Obviously, actionable knowledge is valuable because it allows us to take actions that would otherwise not have been possible or as effective without it. On the other hand, the notion that only actionable knowledge is empowering leads to the idea that only knowledge that is actionable is worth pursuing. That is why we hear rants, such as the one in New York Times recently, about the amount of time and money spent pursuing 'useless' knowledge.

Such complaints do have their points, but they often leave us with the distinct impression that people expect a lot from the knowledge they pursue. They expect it to pave the way to good jobs, to yield financial profit, to save time—in short, knowledge is expected to have tangible benefits, measured in terms that people are already familiar with and fully expect.

There are two criticisms that can be made. Firstly, such expectations are contrary to the nature of discovery. Whether the discovery is unprecedented or personal, whether the knowledge gained is completely new or already known to others, gaining knowledge entails learning something you didn't know before. It is therefore strange that we think we know what we can expect out of gaining some knowledge. While we can perhaps guess at or imagine its possible outcomes, the process of learning is likely to entail learning more than just actionable knowledge. In any particular body of knowledge learned, perhaps only a small part of it is actionable knowledge. Yet such 'wastage' is an unavoidable part of the learning process, a consequence of not knowing what exactly to expect, and this is especially true when engaging in cutting-edge research that seeks to break new ground.

This brings us to the second point, which is what the New York Times article seems to overlook when it rehashes old complaints about the academic ivory tower: A lot of the knowledge gained through research in institutes of higher learning is 'useless' because research is not an entirely predictable process. Important discoveries are often unexpected and made when pursuing lines of inquiry that might initially seem esoteric and of limited practical consequence. Even if a body knowledge seems to be full of information that is of little use outside of academia, the discourse it generates may have a cumulative effect that could be instrumental to making important discoveries within that body or outside of it. Thus, research is not made up self-contained projects that either yield useful results or not—research can be seen as consisting of discourses that together form the ground from which new knowledge germinates, not necessarily as a result of any single effort.

That is not to say that research need not be directed by practical goals. However, we should not be surprised that only "around 40 percent" or whatever proportion of academic research proves to be immediately useful in practical contexts. These circumstances are part and parcel of the process of research, and perhaps it is a gross misunderstanding of the way knowledge is gained that leads to the kind of cynicism that demands that knowledge yield tangible rewards or be deemed not worthwhile.


Every year it's the same. I would be lulled into thinking that there are possibilities here, that things will be different. This year, I actually convinced myself that I think positively now, that I will see things differently. I was even beginning to think that I may prefer to stay here instead of leaving again. But, in the end, I still feel the same way

The people are still the same. People might change since you've got to know them, but they'd never change again. Here, they are still indifferent. You can't rely on them to make the simplest of gestures unless they can see what's in it for them. In general, old friends tend to become nothing but a tiny blot in the paper of the mind, a memory of people who exist but who are of little concern to you now.

Every year, I learn a little more about how to live a largely solitary existence. When family became lost to me emotionally, I had friends. Now friends are merely a collection of acquaintances. You don't leave a place and expect to pay no price. Maybe some people can, but such are my blessings.

Each time, to stave off bitterness, I have to know that I've become better. I have to be able to say that I've become more self-sufficient. To achieve that, I have to turn again to philosophy. Only philosophy can teach you how to live alone and nonchalantly.

The strong person is an essentially solitary person. I have no need for friends, as they have no need for me.


Having witnessed first hand the large student protest against the UK government's decision to raise tuition fee caps, I'm neither unnerved by the sporadic violence nor disheartened by the chaos of mass action. Rather, looking at the aftermath of the day, I've become more convinced of the corruption and the absurdity of the system.

Bourgeois sensitivity towards militant action is amusing. Repeatedly, we've been treated to condemnations of acts of violence and hooliganism by the established channels of the dominant bourgeois voice. The emphasis has been on the contrast between justified peaceful protest and bad violent protest. Perhaps if those sitting in their sofas watching the telly would reach a little into their memory and recall the last large-scale peaceful protest, they might remember the time when more than a million marched against Britain's participation in the Iraq War. The government went ahead with it anyway.

So what the official mouthpieces are really advocating is mass action that can be sidelined and ignored while the elite go on with their business. God forbid that a demonstration might make the latter anxious.

Violence is inherently problematic as it is simultaneously a powerful tool of the dominant ideology. Yet this does not diminish the idiocy of refusing to recognise the violence as a politically relevant part of this mass action. Statements about how a peaceful student movement has been hijacked by violent factions is begging the question: Where do these violent people come from and what do they want? Are they simply embodiments of the semi-mythical anarchic ruffian archetype? Or are some of them—God forbid—people who are genuinely frustrated by how they are treated by the politicians and their law enforcement minions?


While people are desperately protesting their disenfranchisement in ways that they think might have an impact, the official mouthpieces are busy trying to appeal to middle class disgust towards violence. They are also painting attacks on icons of traditional authority as appalling anti-social acts. Under this 'objective' and 'reasonable' surface discourse, ideology is plainly at work, and there is nothing too absurd for its efforts.

The attack on a royal car, in particular, has received much coverage worldwide. In Britain, some channels have been very active in expressing horror at the act. The time-honoured and sacred tradition of the monarchy itself seems to be under attack. Will those protesters stop at nothing in their quest to destroy the very fabric of society? Nevertheless, the public would be glad to know that the royalty proceeded bravely and resolutely to attend the royal variety show despite the attack.

A comedian on the show couldn't have done better.

What do some people ever do? They only criticise – the sort the 'can do' macho types hate. Well, unfortunately, I'm one of those annoying ones. I just can't help but be contrarian.

And this time I'm going say that contrary to the popular saying, mandatory military service or national service does not turn boys into men, at least as far as I can see. It simply keeps boys as boys.




Why is there a need for such a process in the first place? What's wrong with being a boy? Military personnel seem to approach this question from a particular angle when answering – to wean kids off their parents and make them tough and independent people.

So we've established that they want to turn mummy's boy into a military man. Is it, therefore, manly to be in the military? I suspect most military people have never really bothered to ask themselves what exactly makes a man. Or maybe they have, but the answer they come up with is manifestly stupid: If you march around, follow orders and shoot guns, you're manly.

Well, I'm sorry, but brawling is manlier. There's nothing manlier than getting up close and personal when fighting, yes? But try it and you're likely to end up in jail. And which real man wants to listen to someone's stupid orders anyway? But they make it a point to ensure that you obey them. So I guess the authorities don't like real men too much.

But let's cut them some slack here. I'm sure some military people have thought this through and do come up with a much better answer: A man is a man because he's an active and independent decision-maker who is diligent enough in pursuing his goals. Essentially, he doesn't need others to tell him what to do and is capable of putting himself on track to get what he wants.

Now does military training accomplish that?

No need for others to tell him what to do? There's a common phenomenon in the army – collective stupidity. During national service training especially, intelligence is at a premium. Most of those in charge can only shout and threaten to get things (frequently just orders from above or by-the-book stuff) done. Those below them are so afraid of doing the wrong thing that their initiative drops to negligible levels and they frequently lose the use of their common sense. And then there's the chain of command. At best, if you do make your own decision, you'd better damn well be sure that it produces the right results. Otherwise, you can't hide behind the chain when the blame game starts. So in this the training is mostly a failure.

Capable of putting himself on track to get what he wants? Threats are the most significant motivator in the army. Without sufficient initiative in the process, how does anyone claim that he has put himself on track to get a desired result? I'm really not sure how the military method is supposed to teach you the necessary independence and diligence. As much as writing "I will not be late for school" 100 times on the black board teaches you punctuality, I guess. So in this the training is mostly a failure as well.

Since we can determine no part of the training that can clearly turn boys into men, what does national service actually do?

The answer is it seeks to wean boys off parental dependency by substituting it with indoctrination in ways of thinking that are actually very boyish. As I said, real men don't need some guy shouting at them to get things done. Children might, though. And real men don't have to surrender their capacity to think to a system that demands complete obedience.

Nonetheless, if you are obedient to some other authority and you've been conditioned to make your bed through threats and punishments, then maybe you really don't have to be mummy's boy anymore. So I guess it does something.

Still, it doesn't turn boys into men.

But, as some might ask, why am I spending time complaining about this? Well, I do have some decisions to make about what I want to do with my life for the next few years. So I'm off to be a man now, and you 'can do' macho types can save your ire for someone else.

Anyway, I'm sure you have some boots to clean before you fall in as per routine orders.

This week hasn't been a particularly good week and I haven't had the energy to read the local newspapers. But it did set me thinking about my own world, and I recalled a little detail from years ago.

When I was in junior college, my class went on a field trip to a naval base. On a ship we met a young naval officer, a graduate of the National University of Singapore's Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences (I confess that for some of us its initials are like a bad word). He was a political science major, and he had this to say about his course: It was bullshit.

Unlike wearing uniforms on a metal deck, of course.

I'm not totally certain whether he thought his course was bullshit because of its quality in FASS, or because it was cool to deride 'less tangible' subjects like that as bullshit. If it was the latter, as it seemed in the context of the conversation, I'm afraid I have to say tough luck dude. You relinquished non-conformity when you donned your uniform.

And, anyway, so many people say the same thing that it's about as cool as your grandma's granny undies. Try harder next time.

The simple truth is some people just can't handle the intangible stuff that we learn in the arts and social sciences. It can be hard indeed, and I'm feeling the uncertainty of the future. I'm stressed about that, but I don't wish I had done something else. If you guess that it's because people like me simply love what we are studying, you're right.

But it's not just that.

Being intangible means they don't guarantee straight answers. And, maybe by extension, it also means they don't guarantee straight paths. The things you learn may or may not be applicable in your jobs in the future, but since when is education just about learning technical skills anyway? Whether you make use of what you learn or not is up to you. And I think being enriched by your education in the arts and humanities would mean that you'd be a more complete person. That can get you places, as long as human beings are social creatures and as long as economic production remains a social activity. It might even mean you're flexible enough to fit into a variety of roles because your skills aren't fixed in a given technical area.

So I think there are two issues here. The first is local people's lack of ability to be imaginative and to accept more uncertainty. And the second is local students' and graduates' lack of ability to apply what they've learned in school except where it's pretty obvious (like in exams) – and that will certainly be problematic if your subject is the less tangible sort.

As a consequence, many would choose to take the more convenient path if they could, to do what gives them more certainty. Like joining the navy. And that, my friends, is the proof that uniforms don't prove anything.

What a wuss that guy was.


Last week I wrote about what freedom means. But it might raise some questions in some people's minds. What spurs me to confidently state that freedom doesn't really apply to certain opinions? I brought up the fact that freedoms clash, and that some precede others. Thus, the freedom of speech should not be emphasized over (among others) the right to live and to pursue happiness.

Nevertheless, let's dig around a bit more. Or, rather, let's turn our eyes to the elephant in the room: Truth – as opposed to falsity or ignorance.

In all the discourse about the freedom and the relativism of opinion, we might forget that the elephant sits quietly on one side. Others pointedly ignore it. But it's there. Maybe one needs a shock before one remembers its presence. Maybe some news that would set our alarm bells off, for example – like the recent proposals being considered by the Texas Board of Education.

The conservative-dominated Board appointed six reviewers to propose changes to make to the history curriculum. Two of the three reviewers appointed by conservative board members run conservative Christian organisations, while the three appointed by the moderates and liberals are all professors of history or education at Texas universities.

Here are some recommendations that the conservative reviewers made:


Replace Thurgood Marshall with Harriet Tubman or Sam Houston.


In first grade, students are expected to study the contributions of Americans who have influenced the course of history. Rev. Peter Marshall, a reviewer, calls Thurgood Marshall – who as a lawyer argued Brown v. Board of Education and later became the first black justice on the U.S. Supreme Court – a weak example."

Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka was the case where segregated schools were ruled unconstitutional in the United States.


Delete César Chávez from a list of figures who modeled active participation in the democratic process.


Two reviewers objected to citing Mr. Chávez, who led a strike and boycott to improve working conditions for immigrant farmhands, as an example of citizenship for fifth-graders. "He's hardly the kind of role model that ought to be held up to our children as someone worthy of emulation," Rev. Marshall wrote."

César Chávez was a Mexican American labour leader and civil rights activist who made contributions to the recognition of workers' rights in the United States.


Replace references to America's 'democratic' values with 'republican' values


Reviewer David Barton suggests swapping out 'republican' for 'democratic' in teaching materials. As he explains: "We don't pledge allegiance to the flag and the democracy for which it stands."

Can you see where these recommendations are going?

Now, the question that begs asking is what were these religious leaders doing making official recommendations on school curriculum in the first place? Why were actual educators and experts in the field sharing the table with them? We can infer a sad answer from the examples above, especially the third.

And this, by the way, is the Board that has approved the teaching of creationist critiques of evolution in schools.

Thus, the elephant is forgotten amidst all the politicking. And Thio Li Ann's case is another example. Let's pick just one issue amongst the many it has:


Homosexuality is a gender identity disorder; there are numerous examples of former homosexuals successfully dealing with this. Just this year, two high profile US activists left the homosexual lifestyle, the publisher of Venus, a lesbian magazine, and an editor of Young Gay America. Their stories are available on the net. An article by an ex-gay in the New Statesmen this July identified the roots of his emotional hurts, like a distant father, overbearing mother and sexual abuse by a family friend; after working through his pain, his unwanted same-sex attractions left. While difficult, change is possible and a compassionate society would help those wanting to fulfill their heterosexual potential. There is hope.


- Thio Li Ann

Compare that to the American Psychological Association's (among others) findings:


Sexual orientation has proved to be generally impervious to interventions intended to change it... No scientifically adequate research has shown that such interventions are effective or safe. Moreover, because homosexuality is a normal variant of human sexuality, national mental health organizations do not encourage individuals to try to change their sexual orientation from homosexual to heterosexual. Therefore, all major national mental health organizations have adopted policy statements cautioning the profession and the public about treatments that purport to change sexual orientation. The statement of the American Psychiatric Association cautions that “[t]he potential risks of ‘reparative therapy’ are great, including depression, anxiety and self-destructive behavior."

And the American Psychiatric Association's findings:


APA affirms its 1973 position that homosexuality per se is not a diagnosable mental disorder... APA recommends that the APA respond quickly and appropriately as a scientific organization when claims that homosexuality is a curable illness are made by political or religious groups.

Who do you trust, scientists and experts or conservative leaders with religious agendas and maybe some sinners to burn?

And, therefore, this is another compelling reason why freedom of speech is quite beside the point here. We want to argue truth, not falsity. We can talk about the freedom to hold and express an opinion all day, but if the opinion is utterly false, then nothing will be accomplished at all. And there might be a heavy price to pay too.

So, are we going to acknowledge the elephant in the room?

Well, I think I know what the Republicans might have done with theirs.