Educational Alzheimer’s

When individuals lose their memory to Alzheimer’s or another form of dementia, we universally recognize this as a tragedy, and so we pour large amounts of money into research to identify the causes and work toward developing a cure. But when the nation loses its collective memory? As any lover of history knows, that’s what’s happening year by year. The great historian David McCullough put it this way thirteen years ago in his National Book Award acceptance speech:

We, in our time, are raising a new generation of Americans who, to an alarming degree, are historically illiterate.The situation is serious and sad. And it is quite real, let there be no mistake. It has been coming on for a long time, like a creeping disease, eating away at the national memory. While the clamorous popular culture races on, the American past is slipping away, out of site and out of mind. We are losing our story, forgetting who we are and what it’s taken to come this far. . . .The decided majority, some 60 percent, of the nation’s high school seniors haven’t even the most basic understanding of American history. . . .On a winter morning on the campus of one of our finest colleges, in a lively Ivy League setting with the snow falling outside the window, I sat with a seminar of some twenty-five students, all seniors majoring in history, all honors students—the cream of the crop. “How many of you know who George Marshall was?” I asked. None. Not one.At a large university in the Midwest, a young woman told me how glad she was to have attended my lecture, because until then, she explained, she had never realized that the original thirteen colonies were all on the eastern seaboard.

As Brian Ward of Fraters Libertas notes, the situation hasn’t improved in thirteen years, either.

The liberal news site MinnPost celebrates this glimpse into the state of public education in Minneapolis:When asked what historical figure they’d most like to study this year, an astounding 22 of the 35 students in Ms. Ellingham’s eighth-grade history class at Susan B. Anthony middle school in Minneapolis answered, “Yoko Ono” and/or “John Lennon.”I weep for the future. The great historian David McCullough was on C-SPAN this past week, looking like a beaten man while describing the crushing level of historical ignorance among America’s youth. He summed up with the warning that one can never love a country one doesn’t know. It sounded like an epitaph.

A lot of people will look at this and blame it on history being boring—a perception which I’ve never understood, since history is the human story, the summation of all the interesting (and not-so-interesting) things that have ever happened; sure, it’s boring if badly taught, but so is anything else. The real problem, I think, is ideological: the teaching of history, and especially American history, just isn’t valued by the elites who controle public education, because too many among them don’t especially value the country which that history has produced. Like Barack Obama, their chosen candidate, their conception of the good of America is primarily forward-looking—it’s about the changes they want to make and the good they believe they can create; they don’t want to learn from history, they want to be free of it. Thus John Hinderaker writes,

My youngest daughter started middle school this year. After around a month of classes, as far as I can tell the curriculum consists largely of propaganda about recycling. My high school age daughter told me tonight that in Spanish class she has been taught to say “global warming,” “acid rain” and “greenhouse effect” in Spanish. . . .The schools can teach anything if they care about it. The problem is that they don’t care about teaching history, least of all American history. Public education is agenda-driven, and American history—the facts of American history—is not on the agenda.

The problem is, we cannot get free of history—not as long as human beings are still sinful; the attempt to do so only leaves us blind to what others may do. The study of history is in large part a way of learning from the mistakes (and the insights!) of others so that we don’t have to reinvent them all ourselves. This is why the philosopher George Santayana was right to declare that those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it; it’s also why progressives who try to evade this truth by dismissing it as a truism are self-defeating, because any true progress requires escaping the historical loop, which requires learning the lessons of history and taking them seriously. True progress must be founded on a chastened realism about human behavior, not on utopian optimism about human potential.The nub of the matter here is that the command of the Delphic oracle is still essential to any human wisdom: “Know thyself”—and our ability to do so rests on our memory, because to a great extent, as I’ve said before, memory is identity. We cannot know ourselves if we’ve forgotten who we are, what we’ve done and why we’ve done it and whom we did it for (or to, or against)—and this is no less true of us as a nation than it is of us as individuals. We cannot understand who we are and why we do things the way we do if we don’t understand how we got here; and as a consequence, we may well throw away treasures because we don’t know enough to see their value.The last word on this really should belong to David McCullough, of whom I am a great and fervent admirer, who put it beautifully in his 1995 acceptance speech (which is well worth reading in its entirety):

History shows us how to behave. History teaches, reinforces what we believe in, what we stand for, and what we ought to be willing to stand up for. History is—or should be—the bedrock of patriotism, not the chest-pounding kind of patriotism but the real thing, love of country.At their core, the lessons of history are largely lessons in appreciation. Everything we have, all our great institutions, hospitals, universities, libraries, this city, our laws, our music, art, poetry, our freedoms, everything is because somebody went before us and did the hard work, provided the creative energy, provided the money, provided the belief. Do we disregard that?Indifference to history isn’t just ignorant, it’s rude. It’s a form of ingratitude.I’m convinced that history encourages, as nothing else does, a sense of proportion about life, gives us a sense of the relative scale of our own brief time on earth and how valuable that is.What history teaches it teaches mainly by example. It inspires courage and tolerance. It encourages a sense of humor. It is an aid to navigation in perilous times. We are living now in an era of momentous change, of huge transitions in all aspects of life-here, nationwide, worldwide-and this creates great pressures and tensions. But history shows that times of change are the times when we are most likely to learn. This nation was founded on change. We should embrace the possibilities in these exciting times and hold to a steady course, because we have a sense of navigation, a sense of what we’ve been through in times past and who we are.