Yuval Noah Harari‘s provocative trilogy challenges a lot of established thought and poses difficult questions. At various times in his books he examines the context of education. While I did not always agree with the perspectives that these thoughts are coming from, I welcomed the challenges to the education establishment. This blogpost is a summary of some of those ideas I came across, and – in true appreciation – many long quotes verbatim.
In Homo Deus, Harari tackles the often criticised established assessment practices, but finds new fault in the unshifting approach to measurement:
Our modern education systems provide numerous other examples of reality kowtowing to written records. When measuring the width of my desk the yardstick I am using matters little. The width of my desk remains the same whether I say it is 200 cm or 78.74 inches. However when bureaucracies measure people, the yardsticks they choose make all the difference. When school began assessing people according to precise numerical marks, the lives of millions of students and teachers changed dramatically. Marks are a relatively new invention. Hunter-gatherers were never marked for their achievements, and even thousands of years after the Agricultural Revolution few education establishments used precise marks. At the end of the year a medieval apprentice cobbler did not receive a piece of paper saying he has got an A in shoelaces but a C minus in buckles. An undergraduate in Shakespeare’s day left Oxford with one of only two possible results – with a degree, or without one. Nobody thought of giving one student a final mark of 74 and another student an 88.
It was the mass education systems of the industrial age that began using precise marks on a regular basis. After both factories and government ministries became accustomed to thinking the language of numbers, schools followed suit. They started to gauge the worth of each student according to his or her average mark, whereas the worth of each teacher and principal was judged according to the school’s overall average. Once bureaucrats adopted this yardstick – reality was transformed (196-7).
Often assessment reform is based on the same foundation, revising 62% into a B-, and then transforming that into a 5; or similarly turning a 80% into an Excellence. These reforms rarely questions the underlying assumptions that modern education systems have clung to. The yardsticks continue to be tweaked, but they represent the same thing.
Originally schools were supposed to focus on enlightening and educating students, and marks were merely a means of measuring success. But naturally enough schools soon began focussing on achieving high marks. As every child, teacher and inspector knows, the skills required to get high marks in an exam are not the same as a true understanding of literature, biology or mathematics. Every child, teacher and inspector also knows that when forced to choose between the two, most schools will go for the marks (198).
This triggers my memory of Campbell’s Law: “the observation that once a metric has been identified as a primary indicator for success, its ability to accurately measure success tends to be compromised.” Educators understand the issues with focusing on assessment outcomes and the way that this can undermine the true magic of learning. However, Harari’s writing helped me to understand how we arrived at this point, and that is was indeed a journey.
In Homo Deus, Harari spends a significant portion of the book on humanism. As society has moved away from religion and believing in a great cosmic plan, we have maintained social order because of a common belief in humanist ideas. The rise of humanism is evident in the revolution of the education system. In the Middle Ages, education was focused on “instilling obedience, memorising scriptures and studying ancient traditions”. Therefore teachers presented questions and students answered with what they could remember (272).
In contrast, modern humanist education believes in teaching students to think for themselves. It is good to know what Aristotle, Solomon and Aquinas thought about politics, art and economics; yet since the supreme source of meaning and authority lies within ourselves, it is far more important to know what you think about these matters. Ask a teacher – whether in kindergarten, school or college – what she is trying to teach: “Well,” she will answer, “I teach kids history, or quantum psychics, or art – but above all I try to teach them to think for themselves.” It may not always succeed, but that is what humanist education seeks to do (272).
In 21 Lessons for the 21st Century, Harari emphasises the well trodden narrative that we are teaching students for a unknown job market in 2050: “what kind of skills will he or she need in order to get a job, understand what is happening around them and navigate the maze of life” (301). Historically schools have provided access for children to knowledge and context to develop skills that gives them a foundation for life. In 2020 the access to information has never been greater and contexts for learning are ubiquitous.
“In such a world, the last thing a teacher needs to give her pupils is more information. They already have far too much of it. Instead people need the ability to make sense of information, to tell the difference between what is important and what is unimportant, and above all to combine many bits of information into a broad picture of the world.” (303)
Why focus on predetermined skills if the future is so unknown? Technology has already made humans capable of conversing in a different language, solving mathematical equations and identifying spelling mistakes – so why are we still spending so much time in schools focused on these skills?
Harari raises the idea of the four C’s: critical thinking, communication, collaboration and creativity as the guiding principles for curriculum. Or in brief: “schools should downplay technical skills and emphasise general purpose life-skills” (305). Humans in 2050 need to be adaptable, flexible and able to learn in new situations. In order to keep up they will need to reinvent themselves again and again such is the predicted pace of forthcoming change: “change itself is the only certainty” (306). How can students be prepared for this if they are being taught by teachers who were a product of the old education system? The production line theory of education is still woven into the fabric of our current systems – and this is largely because “we haven’t created a viable alternative” (309).
Harari’s advice to students is not to trust the adults. “Due to the growing pace of change you can never be certain whether what the adults are telling you is timeless wisdom or outdated bias” (309). Just like Karen Spencer’s uLearn16 advice: “hold your ideas lightly,” Harari says “to run fast, don’t take much heavy luggage with you. Leave all your illusions behind. They are very heavy” (312).
Harari, Y. N. (2011). Sapiens: A brief history of humankind. Vintage: London.
Harari, Y. N. (2016). Homo deus: A brief history of tomorrow. Vintage: London.
Harari, Y. N. (2018). 21 Lessons for the 21st century. Vintage: London.
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