Oxford Review of Education. Oct2015, Vol. 41 Issue 5, p671-689. 19p.
Inherent in most school curricula is some sort of curriculum hierarchy—that is, an assumption that some school subjects are more valuable than others. This paper examines the epistemological assumptions that underpin one such curriculum hierarchy, which I refer to as 'the traditional curriculum hierarchy'. It is a pervasive and problematic idea which maintains that supposedly abstract school subjects, like mathematics and physics, are more valuable than subjects associated with concrete experience, practicality and the body, such as physical education and vocational subjects. Drawing on Dewey, an alternative, non-hierarchical theory of curriculum will be proposed. Contrary to common misinterpretations of his ideas, it is argued that Dewey did not prioritise student interests over disciplinary content. Dewey proposed a curriculum grounded in authentic social problems that required students to draw simultaneously on knowledge and methods from multiple disciplines in an interconnected manner in order to work through such problems. Current policies and initiatives, especially the Australian national curriculum and the English Baccalaureate, are discussed.
Keywords: curriculum theory; John Dewey; school subjects; Australian curriculum; English Baccalaureate; curriculum hierarchy; epistemology
Inherent in most school curricula is some sort of curriculum hierarchy—that is, an assumption that some school subjects are more valuable than others. This paper examines the epistemology that underpins one curriculum hierarchy, which I refer to as 'the traditional curriculum hierarchy'. It is a pervasive and problematic idea which maintains that supposedly abstract school subjects, like mathematics and physics, are more valuable than subjects associated with concrete experience, practicality and the body, such as physical education and vocational subjects. This educational idea can be traced back at least as far as Plato. An examination of two current policies, Australia's National Curriculum and the English Baccalaureate, demonstrates how the traditional curriculum hierarchy continues to influence Western education.
While this traditional curriculum hierarchy is frequently discussed within the educational literature, the discussion is piecemeal and scattered throughout various papers that usually have other foci, such as providing sociological and historical examinations of particular subjects or of the subject based curriculum in general. This philosophical paper will synthesise and extend on this literature by providing a concentrated analysis of the epistemology that underpins the traditional curriculum hierarchy.
I argue that the traditional hierarchy is embedded in a dubious epistemological framework that equates knowledge with certainty. This argument is consistent with claims that elite curriculum content is abstract and theoretical, while low status content is associated with concreteness, the body and practicality (e.g., Goodson, [[21], [23]]; Teese, [68]; Teese & Polesel, [69]; Young [74], [75]). This epistemological analysis will clarify the problematic nature of the traditional curriculum hierarchy, explaining how it paradoxically undermines some of the very educational goals that it is claimed to promote, including inclusivity and the fostering of reasoning.
Drawing on Dewey, a non-hierarchal notion of curriculum will be defended. Contrary to common misinterpretations, Dewey did not prioritise students' interests over the learning of disciplinary knowledge. He conceived of knowledge as the dynamic product of inquiries into concrete social problems. He saw inquiry not as an abstract, disembodied process, but as a transformative interaction with one's social-cultural environment. Thus, knowledge is contextual, applied and fallible. This epistemology entails a curriculum grounded in authentic social problems that provoke students to integrate diverse disciplinary knowledge. Such curriculum overcomes the inadequacies with other alternatives to the traditional curriculum hierarchy.
As the status of specific school subjects is somewhat contextual, the following is a tentative example of the traditional curriculum hierarchy, offered primarily for the sake of analysis:
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• Tier 1 Subjects: Mathematics and the physical sciences (i.e., chemistry and physics). • Tier 2 Subjects: 'Applied' science and mathematics subjects (e.g., biology, geography and economics); traditional humanities and arts (e.g., ancient & medieval history, English, music or theatre studies with a focus on theory and classics). • Tier 3 Subjects: 'Modern' and/or 'applied' arts and humanities (e.g., social studies, civics, media studies and business studies).
• Tier 4 Subjects: Vocational education, physical education, outdoor education, health and technology subjects (e.g., woodwork).
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The higher status of some subjects is often assumed to reflect their greater economic and social value. However, this explanation fails to explain why vocational subjects that prepare students to fulfil essential jobs (e.g., trades and services) are devalued, while highly abstract curriculum that appears to have little direct relevance to everyday life (e.g., pure maths, literature, theoretical physics) are esteemed. Furthermore, many low status subjects specifically foster physical and emotional wellbeing, which is fundamental for human flourishing, perhaps, even more so than literacy and numeracy skills or scientific knowledge.
The status of different school subjects can be better explained by perennial and ubiquitous beliefs about knowledge, specifically, the belief that knowledge entails certainty. As Dewey explains, 'Man who lives in a world of hazards is compelled to seek for security' and the perennial belief has been that certain knowledge of an ultimate, fixed reality can provide such security (1930, pp. 7, 23). The quest for certainty emanates from the fact that the physical world is in a constant state of flux and our experience of the world is embodied, meaning it is subjective, concrete and situated. As such, we never perceive the universe in its entirety. An environment characterised by change and unfamiliarity is difficult to predict and control. Certain knowledge would enable us to make reliable predictions and live in harmony with our environment. As certain knowledge could not be attained through embodied experience, transcendental reason was conceived of as the only method objective and abstract enough to deliver 'ultimately true representations of the one real world' (Lloyd, [38], p. viii). Reason is conceived of as a universal faculty, located in a disembodied mind that transcends concrete experience so as to observe a fixed reality and apprehend absolute truths.
The influence of this epistemology on education can be traced back at least as far as Plato. In The Republic (1998 [380BC]), Plato argued that the subjects most associated with abstract reasoning and the acquisition of universal truths were the most important. He thought that the highest level of education (i.e., tertiary education), which was only for those fit to rule (i.e., the philosopher kings), ought to be devoted to the study of mathematics and philosophy. Plato believed that the method of inquiry utilised in these subjects, namely transcendental reasoning, could ascertain absolute truths. Since the rest of society was deemed incapable of such sophisticated cogitations, their education consisted largely of preparation for more practical occupations (e.g., crafts, trades, military service). While Plato valued such labour as skilled work, upon which all prosperous societies depended, he did not bestow upon it the same status as the 'intellectual' work undertaken by the philosopher kings. Thus, for over two thousand years, mathematics has been firmly entrenched at the top of the curriculum hierarchy, while practical subjects have been relegated to the bottom. Plato did not hold the physical sciences, which were still in their infancy, in such high regard. He associated them with the physical world (Gutek, [27]). As explained below, their rise to the top of the curriculum hierarchy is a relatively recent occurrence.
This desire for certainty is also apparent in contemporary educational methods that favour content that is amenable to being broken up into discrete, neatly defined parcels of 'indubitable' facts, so as to be efficiently transmitted to students through precisely sequenced lessons (Bleazby, [ 9]). High status subjects are those that appear most amenable to this educational method because they possess a higher degree of the following characteristics: 1) Strong disciplinary boundaries and internal cohesiveness, as opposed to interdisciplinarity (Bernstein, [ 8]; Grossman & Stodolsky, [26]; Ross, [57]). The latter may provoke students to go off on tangents, making connections and delving into new problems, which impedes the systematic acquisition of established knowledge through uncritical reading, listening and reciting; 2) more established (e.g., old) subject matter, which appears less contentious than modern content, which has had less time to become entrenched by dominant opinions (Teese & Polesel, [69]); 3) a higher degree of abstractness, including a greater reliance on theory or symbols, while lower status subjects emphasise concrete experience (Goodson, [23]; Gutek, [27]; Teese, [68]; Teese & Polesel, [69]; Young, [74]). Since abstract content is removed from the subjectiveness and particularities of concrete experience, it is more amenable to being presented as absolute knowledge (i.e., true for all people in all times and spaces). In contrast, content that is contextual appears contentious. This may encourage critical and creative thinking but it is a nuisance if one's aim is the systematic transfer of 'indubitable' facts; 4) an emphasis on cognition over practical activities because the latter imply concrete, embodied experience (Goodson, [23]; Teese & Polesel, [69]). Embodied experience also implies emotionality and sense experience, which are thought to impede objectivity (Bleazby, [ 9]; Lynch & Baker, [39]; Noddings, [46]); 5) an emphasis on written text and literacy (Lynch & Baker [39]; Young, [74]; Teese & Polesel, [69]). Written text appears more abstract, objective and final than the spoken word, which is more dynamic, fluid and tentative and clearly emanates from a specific subject. Thus, written text maintains a greater air of certainty.
Because mathematics and the physical sciences appear to epitomise 'certain' knowledge they occupy a privileged position on top of the traditional curriculum hierarchy. As Teese & Polesel explain, they emphasise 'abstraction from everyday life', consist of a supposedly universal 'language of ideas (numbers, symbols, physical concepts)', are perceived as 'comparatively stable and predictable' and as providing 'a sense of certainty' ([69], pp. 20–21). They are perceived to have clearly defined boundaries (Grossman & Stodolsky, [26]; Stodolsky, [63]; Stodolsky & Grossman [64]). They are also seen as consisting of established and absolute knowledge (e.g., 1+1=2).
Many commentators lament the marginalisation of arts, humanities and social science subjects (Addams, [[ 2]]; Barton, Baguely & MacDonald, [ 4]; Ewing, [17]; Hansberry & Moroz, [28]; Stodolsky, [63]). However, as Siskin & Little ([61]) note, the status of these subjects varies considerably. In general, they currently have a lower status than mathematics and the physical sciences. Their content is more concrete, such as history's focus on specific events and people. They also appear more contentious and subjective because of the obvious presence of value judgments (e.g., 'the Treaty of Versailles was bad'; 'Jane Eyre is good') and patent theoretical dissension (e.g., a Marxist versus a Revisionist interpretation of the French Revolution). Furthermore, many of these subjects are perceived as lacking distinct disciplinary boundaries (Grossman, 1995; Stodolsky, [63]; Stodolsky & Grossman, [64]). However, not all arts and humanities subjects are equal in status. More 'modern' and 'applied' arts and humanities have a lower status because their content appears less certain (Teese, [68]; Teese & Polesel, [69]). For example, the statement 'Banksy's Naked Man (2007) is an excellent piece of artwork' is more contentious than an equivalent statement about the Mona Lisa, partly because there has not been as much time to theorise Banksy's artwork and secure dominant opinions.
The subjects with the lowest status are those most associated with concrete experience, practicality and the body, including physical education, health, outdoor education and many technology and vocational subjects (Brown, [10]; Johns & Dimmock, [34]; Lynch & Baker, [39]; Polesel, [52]; Teese & Polesel, [69]; Teese & Walstab, [70]; Young, [76]). Enrolments in these subjects are dominated by the most disadvantaged students, often because they are thought incapable of meeting the demands of the academic curriculum (Young, [76], p. 273). These subjects emphasise interacting with the material world in a transformative manner (e.g., creating a camp site, baking a cake). They involve practical, temporary responses to specific, concrete situations (e.g., building a book shelf to suit a particular space and particular users). As such, task-specific skills and knowledge seem more important than abstract, general theories. These subjects, which do not correspond to established academic disciplines, also lack strong disciplinary boundaries. For example, a recent report on the English National Curriculum recommends that design and technology subjects and citizenship education be integrated into other subjects because they lacked the disciplinary coherence to be considered stand-alone subjects (as cited in Steers, [62]).
In actuality, all disciplines, even mathematics and the physical sciences, consist of knowledge that is practical, concrete and contentious. Many philosophers, including, Hume ([32], [33]), Peirce ([48], [49]), Dewey ([12]) and Popper ([53]) have argued that scientific knowledge, like all knowledge, is fallible. Drawing on Hume and Peirce, Popper famously argued that scientific knowledge consists of conjectures that have survived attempts to refute them and, as such, are accepted as knowledge, albeit fallible knowledge that remains open to future refutation. It was because of science's obvious concreteness and contentiousness that Plato did not hold it in particularly high regard. Since Plato's day, the discipline has been increasingly theorised and governed by abstract principles and methods of inquiry. As Teese and Polesel explain, it is these elements of science that are stressed in school curricula at the 'price of ever greater remoteness from the external world' ([69], p. 21). Similarly, Goodson argues that in Britain, science was initially taught in an applied form as the 'science of common things' but this precipitated a concern that the sciences were too accessible to the lower classes. As such, school science was reconfigured:
A watered-down version of pure laboratory science had become accepted as the correct view of science, a view that has persisted, largely unchallenged, to the present day. Science, as a school subject, was powerfully redefined to become similar in form to so much else in the secondary curriculum—pure, abstract, a body of knowledge enshrined in syllabuses and textbooks (see Goodson, [22]). The fundamental insight is that even with a subject that is conceived of as a challenge to the traditional academic curriculum, incorporation can take place. Hence, science, which was thought of as practical and pedagogical, ended up as 'pure laboratory science'. ([23], p. 71)
It is common for subjects to be reconfigured in this manner. For example, the National Society for Education in Art and Design (NSEAD) ([45]) has criticised proposed reforms to the English Arts Curriculum that emphasise theory (e.g., art appreciation and history) over practice, as well as classical art forms like drawing and sculpture over modern forms like digital photography and filmmaking. As Lynch & Baker ([39]) explain, 'Within art, it is fine art and art history (the art and knowledge of the upper classes) that have the highest status, with design work (the art traditionally associated with more working class occupations, such as printing) being accorded a lower status on the syllabus and in assessment systems' ([39], p. 139).
This further demonstrates that elite subject matter is actually that which is made to appear as if it is untainted by the uncertainties of concrete experience. Some subjects, such as mathematics and the physical sciences are more successful at this, largely because of their reliance on abstract symbols and grand, 'universal' theories. The comparatively lower status of maths and science subjects like geography, economics and biology, reflects their more direct link with the material world—a concreteness which is harder to suppress (Teese & Polesel, [69]).
Thus, while the status of particular school subjects can fluctuate, depending on how they are configured, there is a fundamental element of the curriculum hierarchy that remains constant: i.e., the more abstract, theoretical, cognitive, objective, universal and certain a subject's content appears, the higher is its status; while the lower end of the curriculum hierarchy has always been dominated by subjects associated with concreteness, practicality, corporeality, subjectiveness and, thus, contentiousness.
A significant problem with the curriculum hierarchy is that it contributes to the social inequality of mainstream schooling (Beane, [ 5]; Goodson, [23]; Lynch & Baker, [39]; Taylor, [67]; Teese, [68]; Teese & Polesel, [69]; Whitty, [[72]];Young, [75], [76]). High status subjects are aligned with middle-class culture, university and lucrative professions. Enrolments and success in these subjects are dominated by students from affluent backgrounds. Students from lower socio-economic backgrounds are excluded from elite curriculum in various ways. They lack important cultural resources (e.g., university educated parents; private tutoring; and incentives to excel in such a curriculum, such as pursuit of a university education). Often these cultural resources are pooled in exclusive private or selective government schools, which act as middle-class enclaves, supporting their students' domination of the high status curriculum and securing them a disproportionate number of places in prestigious courses (Teese, [68]; Teese & Polesel, [69]). Students from lower socio-economic backgrounds are under-represented in high status subjects and over-represented in low status curriculum, especially vocational education (Polesel, [52]; Teese & Polesel, [69]; Teese & Walstab, [70]), which often leads to low status, low paying jobs (Polesel, [52]). Hence, Young's claim that 'educational success' in low status curricula is still really 'defined as failure' ([74], p. 40).
Another problem with the traditional curriculum hierarchy is that its focus on 'certain knowledge' discourages higher-order thinking. It is contentious subject matter that is most facilitative of higher order thinking because it is open to criticism and can provoke problem-solving, inquiry and the construction of new ideas. 'Certain knowledge' is perfect and can simply be stored away in one's memory. Thus, the traditional curriculum hierarchy sends students the confusing message that the most prestigious subjects largely involve lower-order thinking, while more contentious, lower status subjects require higher-order thinking. The traditional curriculum hierarchy seems to undermine its own claim that maths and science are the most intellectually demanding subjects.
This paradox is particularly odd given that this model of curriculum assumes traditional epistemological ideals, including the notion that reasoning is the only legitimate method of attaining knowledge. One would think that fostering the capacity for reasoning would be a goal of this educational ideal. In actuality, the centrality of logic (especially deductive reasoning) to the discipline of mathematics is another reason why this subject is so highly valued (Goody, 1992). Why then would this curriculum ideal undermine the cultivation of reasoning?
A possible explanation for this paradox can be found in Plato's theory of curriculum. While Plato thought that everyone should learn to reason to some extent (especially as a means to controlling one's emotions and impulses), he believed that it was really only the ruling class who had the potential to master this skill so as to ascertain absolute truths. Thus, this educational ideal does value reasoning but, because it is considered so intellectually demanding, it is assumed that only a select few will be able to cultivate it at the tertiary level of schooling. The masses are schooled to comprehend knowledge that other more intelligent people have already discovered—those who excel at this may then go on to further study and do some thinking for themselves. Thus, it is largely at the tertiary level that higher order thinking is fostered and, even then, often not until the postgraduate level. As Dewey explained, the problem with this is that students become so accustomed to memorising ready-made knowledge that their long-term capacity for higher order thinking is stunted:
Pupils who have stored their 'minds' with all kinds of material which they have never put to intellectual uses are sure to be hampered when they try to think. They have no practice in selecting what is appropriate, and no criterion to go by; everything is on the same static level. ([15], p. 152)
In 2010, David Cameron's new Conservative government announced a new performance measure for England's General Certificate of Secondary Education (GCSE) (the curriculum undertaken between the ages of 14 and 16). The performance measure, called the English Baccalaureate, identifies the number of students in each school who achieve a C–A* grade in each of the following, high status subjects: mathematics, English, one of the humanities (only History or Geography), Science and a Foreign Language. The percentage of students within each school that achieve the English Baccalaureate is reported in publicly available school performance tables. Many schools have implemented measures that encourage, or require, students to pursue English Baccalaureate subjects, such as making these subjects compulsory, allocating them more teaching time, and removing non-English Baccalaureate subjects from the curriculum (Greevy, Knox, Nunney & Pye, [25]; Higgins, [29]; Mansell, [40]; Shepherd, [59]; Taylor, [67]). As a result, subjects have been withdrawn in 27% of schools, with the most commonly withdrawn subjects being drama and performing arts, art, and design technology (Greevy et al., [25], p. 6), while 60% of 'school leaders said their school had either already reduced the number of level-two vocational qualifications on offer or was planning to do so' (Muir, [44], p. 1).
The English Baccalaureate is part of a suite of reforms intended to produce a more intellectually rigorous secondary curriculum, in particular, to combat a trend in students opting out of 'hard', subjects like mathematics and history, in favour of 'soft' options like the arts and vocational subjects (Muir, [44]; Shepherd, [58]; Taylor, [67]).[ 2] Other reforms include 'more demanding content' and assessment (e.g., more exams) (Ofqual, [47]) and the removal of the majority of GCSE-equivalent vocational qualifications from performance tables (Muir, [44]). In accordance with the traditional curriculum hierarchy, the reforms insinuate that subjects like mathematics, science, English, History and Geography are intellectually demanding and important, while 'the arts, social sciences and the applied and vocational worlds are of lesser importance' (Hodgson & Spours, [31], p. 212; see also Addams, [ 3]; Morris, [43]; Steers, [62]; Welch, [71]).
These reforms respond to concerns about educational standards, the work readiness of school leavers, youth unemployment and the nation's global economic competitiveness, especially given the ramifications of the Global Financial Crisis. Such concerns are bolstered by international league tables, such as those based on the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA), which rank the performance of 15-year-olds in numeracy, reading and science. In 2012, the United Kingdom was ranked 26/65, behind numerous less prosperous nations. Such concerns inevitably raise questions about the adequacy of the secondary school curriculum. Similar concerns framed the extensive Nuffield review of 14–19 year old education and training (Pring et al., [54]). Yet, surprisingly, these new reforms are inconsistent with many of the recommendations of the Nuffield review. In particular, the Nuffield review recommended that greater attention be given to more active and practical modes of learning, a recommendation which is undermined by the English Baccalaureate's relegation of vocational studies, the arts and other practical subjects. The review was also critical of centralised control and performance measures in relation to schooling, ideas epitomised by the English Baccalaureate.
Furthermore, the Nuffield review identified the gap in educational achievement between the most advantaged and disadvantaged students in England and Wales as a significant contributor to the UK's educational, economic and social problems. Yet, because of its adoption of the traditional curriculum hierarchy, the English Baccalaureate actually perpetuates existing social inequalities by reaffirming the high status of 'middle class' curriculum content and devaluing 'working class' curriculum. According to Taylor, while 67% of English grammar school students (i.e. selective schools) achieve the English Baccalaureate only 13.3% of students in comprehensive schools and 6.3% of those in secondary modern schools complete all five Baccalaureate subjects.[ 3] In schools with the highest numbers of students from low income families only 5.5% achieve the English Baccalaureate, compared to 36.5% in schools with the lowest number of such students (2011, pp. 4–6.) . Taylor concludes that the English Baccalaureate 'tell[s] us virtually nothing about the performance of schools' but says 'far more about the prior attainment and family background of a school's pupils' (pp. 6–7).
Despite the inadequacies of these reforms, they are not entirely surprising. In times of increasing uncertainty, instability and rapid change (e.g., rapid technological advancement, economic instability, increasing globalisation and multiculturalism), old and familiar ideas can provide a sense of stability and certainty (Bleazby, [ 9]; Greene, [24]). They may seem attractive and comforting even if, in actual fact, they will potentially do more harm than good.
Such conditions also supported the development of Australia's first national curriculum. Numerous previous attempts, over the past three decades, to establish a national curriculum had been unsuccessful. Increasing concerns about educational standards (Australia ranked 19/65 in PISA, 2012), and the sorts of economic and social uncertainties described above contributed to an environment in which the uniformity and centralised control of a national curriculum seemed appealing. Thus, in 2008, the new Labour government (the more progressive of Australia's two major parties) announced that a national curriculum would be created for mathematics, science, English and history. There was no mention of other subjects and, as with the English Baccalaureate, no justification as to why these subjects would form the foundation of the curriculum (Reid, [56], pp. 31–32). The different professional teacher's associations lobbied to have their subjects included, resulting in further phases of curriculum development. The second phase included geography, languages and the arts, followed by a third phase consisting of 'the rest'— i.e., practical and concrete subjects like design and technology, physical education and health (Reid, [56], p. 33). Thus, priority was given to traditionally elite subjects. As Reid explains, the 'big four' subjects 'set the template for the learning areas which follow[ed]' with 'the rest' having 'to pick up the scraps' (p. 34), in regards to funding, timetabling and content.
The hierarchical nature of the Australian Curriculum is reinforced by a national assessment regime focused on elite curriculum content. Australia's National Assessment Program for Literacy and Numeracy (NAPLAN) requires all Year 3, 5, 7 and 9 students to undertake annual standardised tests in literacy and numeracy. Each school's results are used to evaluate school performance, which is then publicly reported online. Such testing has been shown to narrow the curriculum to focus on testable content and marginalise other, traditionally lower status, curriculum content (Berliner, [ 6]; Berliner & Nichols, [ 7]; Ewing, [17]; Perryman, Ball, Maguire & Braun, [50]). Like the English Baccalaureate, these reforms also emphasise measurement and public accountability, seemingly providing parents with a greater sense of control and assurance regarding school quality. However, like the English Baccalaureate, these reforms do not adequately address the significant gap in educational achievement between Australia's most disadvantaged students (especially Aboriginal students) and more affluent students, a gap which is also a major factor in Australia's performance in international testing, as well as a significant factor in a host of economic and social issues.
A common response to the traditional curriculum hierarchy is to integrate different subjects, such as through focusing on interdisciplinary themes or skills. For example, the Australian Curriculum includes seven general capabilities that are to be taught across all subject areas (i.e., critical and creative thinking, ethical understanding, literacy, numeracy, information and communication technology capability, personal and social capability, and intercultural understanding) and three cross-curriculum themes (i.e., sustainability; Aboriginal and Torres Islander histories and culture; and Asia and Australia's engagement with Asia) (ACARA, [ 1]; MCEETYA, [42]).
However, many interdisciplinary curricula fail to deconstruct the traditional curriculum hierarchy. As already explained, the development of the Australian Curriculum unfolded along the lines of the traditional curriculum hierarchy with curricula for 'low status subjects' like physical education not developed until the later stages of planning. The interdisciplinary elements of the Australian Curriculum were developed later still. They did not inform the initial selection and organisation of subject area curricula but, rather, appear as an 'an afterthought, even a distraction, tacked on disparately' to detailed subject curricula (Reid, [56], p. 35). There are no separate content descriptors for the general capabilities or cross curriculum priorities. There are merely icons on the subject area curricula, which indicate apparent links between subject area content and a particular general capability or cross curriculum priority. As Gilbert states, these links are often 'tenuous if not derisory' (2012, p. 58). One suspects that these interdisciplinary elements will see the same fate as those on England's National Curriculum:
Of all the aspects of the new curriculum, the mixture of good intentions, skills and studies which make up the cross-curricular elements are probably the least understood by teachers and parents alike. In the discussion about subject development, SATs and GCSEs, they have been consistently sidelined. Few schools have made use of them in their curriculum planning and they have been lost sight of in recent wrangling over coursework and examinations. (Sweetman, [65], p. 20)
Far from challenging the traditional curriculum hierarchy, interdisciplinary elements are usually just relegated to the bottom of the hierarchy (Ross, [57], p. 110).
A more radical response to the traditional curriculum hierarchy is to reject traditional school subjects altogether. This approach is seemingly supported by postmodernist notions of knowledge because, if disciplinary knowledge is constructed from the privileged perspectives of the dominant group—i.e., white, middle-class, heterosexual men, then teaching such knowledge amounts to cultural imperialism.
However, this response unnecessarily denies all students access to disciplinary knowledge that, albeit problematic, contains ideas and methods that have enabled past and present generations to make sense of their world and interact with their social-cultural environment. As Young ([75], [76]) points out, the teaching of traditional disciplinary knowledge at school is of particular importance to marginalised students. For such students, formal schooling is often the only way they can access dominant knowledge, whereas students from privileged backgrounds are exposed to it in their everyday lives.
Thus, while I agree that the knowledge contained within traditional subjects is value laden and contentious, this does not mean we should do away with it altogether. It does mean that disciplinary knowledge should not be taught as absolute truths, but as constructed within particular cultures for particular purposes and, thus, as incomplete, fallible, often deeply problematic and open to criticism and reconstruction. This is another reason why marginalised students, in particular, need access to dominant knowledge. They are the most likely to see such knowledge as biased and to pose alternatives.
A better notion of interdisciplinarity can be found in Dewey's notion of authentic curriculum, which is embedded in a pragmatist epistemology that rejects both the notion of knowledge as certainty and total relativism. Although Dewey first proposed this idea of curriculum over a century ago, it needs restating because Dewey's ideas remain widely misunderstood and are yet to significantly influence policy or practice (Cremin, [11]; Fallace, [18]; Kliebard, [35]; Lagemann, [37]; Tanner, [66]).
Dewey pioneered many of the ideas associated with what is commonly called 'progressive education', such as experiential learning; inquiry and problem based learning; student-centredness; as well as interdisciplinary curricula. However, the term 'progressive education' is often used in a vague, indiscriminate manner to refer to diverse educational ideas or practices that are considered alternatives to 'traditional', knowledge transmission pedagogies (Cremin, [11]; Kliebard, [36]).[ 4] Unfortunately, this has resulted in Dewey having numerous educational ideas attributed to him, some of which are actually at odds with his theories.[ 5] One prevailing misconception of Dewey is that he was opposed to the teaching of traditional school subjects (e.g., Egan, [16]; Hirsch, [30]; Ravitch, [55]; Young, [75]). In actual fact, Dewey's curriculum integrated knowledge from all the traditional school subjects but, in contrast to traditional curriculums, he emphasised the social origins and practical value of such knowledge. While this required a significant reconceptualisation of school subjects, it certainly did not do away with them all together.
The most salient aspect of The Laboratory School, which Dewey founded at the University of Chicago in 1886, was that the curriculum was organised around the theme of social occupations and students engaged in 'hands on', creative activities, such as sewing, gardening, cooking, carpentry, running a shop, mapping, science experiments and photography (Tanner, [66], pp. 60–62). These practical activities were not alternatives to the learning of disciplinary knowledge. Rather, they were carefully selected and organised to support the learning of important knowledge and skills, including those encapsulated within traditional school subjects:
In educational terms, this means that these occupations in the school shall not be mere practical devices or modes of routine employment, the gaining of better technical skill as cooks, seamstresses, or carpenters, but active centres of scientific insight into natural materials and processes, points of departure whence children shall be led out into a historical realisation of the development of man [sic]. (Dewey, [14], p. 19)
For example, students learnt how the textile industry had evolved from primitive societies to modern industrialised societies through performing different activities associated with each historical period (Dewey, [14], pp. 19–23; Tanner, [66], pp. 60–62). Students acquired practical skills, such as farming, weaving, sewing, dying fabrics and building a spindle and loom, while simultaneously acquiring diverse subject area knowledge and skills. Through dying, steaming and preparing textiles, students acquired knowledge of chemical processes. They learned about the physics involved in the machinery of textile production, while garment making required various artistic skills and knowledge. Students acquired knowledge and skills from sociology, history, geography and economics. They examined the transition from whole garments being produced by individuals within the domestic sphere to the division of labour that characterises factory work and the transition from small localised industry to international trade, which coincided with a geographical transition from small rural towns to big cities and suburbs. It was even considered appropriate for teachers to interrupt practical activities to explicitly instruct students in the disciplinary knowledge needed to complete tasks. One Laboratory School teacher described having students practise the maths needed to work out the ratio of revolution of the small wheel to the large wheel in spinning for making cotton or wool (Tanner, [66], p. 77).
What Dewey objected to was not the teaching of disciplinary knowledge but the presentation of such knowledge in an abstract and fragmented manner, which effectively rendered it meaningless. Drawing on the ideas of his colleague Charles Sanders Peirce ([48], [49]), Dewey ([13], [15]) conceived of knowledge as the ideas and methods that, as a result of past inquiries, had proven successful at solving concrete problems. When individuals come into conflict with their environment, resulting in them being unable to act in a purposeful manner so as to satisfy their needs or interests, inquiry is initiated in order to overcome the conflict. Through inquiry the individual hypothesises possible solutions to the problem, evaluates these solutions, tests them and applies the best one to the problem, hopefully reconstructing the problem into a meaningful situation—that is, a situation where the individual can act in a purposeful manner. Given that our environment is social-cultural, problems are best addressed through communal inquiry so as to ensure that the diverse needs and perspectives of all those affected are taken into account. Thus, knowledge is a tool constructed in response to concrete social problems. As such, it is fallible and open to reconstruction because an idea that works in one context may be ineffective when transferred to other concrete problems.
Dewey also recognised the importance of abstracting knowledge from the specific situations in which it originated so that it could be generalised and formalised, rendering it useful to others, including future generations, for use in different problematic situations. This highlights the problem with relegating school subjects altogether. It denies students access to a wealth of potential solutions and methods through past inquiries. However, a problem also arises when knowledge is abstracted and generalised to the extent that its origins as a solution to a concrete problem, including its fallibility, is lost. This is the problem with the way traditionally high status knowledge is configured. The content is abstracted and generalised to the point that it no longer seems relevant and applicable to real world problems.
Dewey's curriculum strikes an important balance between knowledge that is concrete enough to be applied to concrete problems but abstract and general enough that it can be adapted and transferred for use in different contexts. At the Laboratory School, disciplinary knowledge was taught as a body of solutions created to tackle various concrete problems throughout history. By recreating such problems within the school, students were provoked to undertake the same types of inquiries that led to the construction of such knowledge in the first place. Importantly, they also had to adapt such knowledge so as to account for the idiosyncrasies of their context. As such, this notion of curriculum can reveal inadequacies with disciplinary knowledge, including its tendency to supress the perspectives of marginalised groups. For example, if students apply an idea that reflects hegemonic culture to an authentic social problem it is likely to be unsuccessful because it won't account for the diverse interests and perspectives of all those impacted. It will likely be met with resistance, giving rise to future problems. Thus, this approach to curriculum fosters a critical, transformative attitude towards the invaluable, problematic content of traditional school subjects.
Discussion of the traditional curriculum hierarchy and its various attributes is scattered throughout the educational literature. This paper has synthesised this existing literature and extended it by explaining how the traditional curriculum hierarchy is embedded in a problematic epistemological ideal that equates knowledge with certainty. This analysis has enabled a better understanding of the problematic nature of the traditional curriculum hierarchy. Although this problematic educational idea can be traced back as far as Plato, an examination of the English Baccalaureate and Australia's National Curriculum demonstrates the continuing influence of the traditional curriculum hierarchy on current educational policy and practice.
This improved understanding of the traditional curriculum hierarchy has prompted a reconsideration of Dewey's frequently misunderstood notion of curriculum. While Dewey's theory of curriculum emphasises interdisciplinarity, it is his rejection of 'certain knowledge', in favour of a pragmatist notion of knowledge as contextual and fallible, that enables him to reject the traditional curriculum hierarchy without rejecting the traditional school subjects altogether. Dewey rejects the notion of certain knowledge and, with it, the notion that subjects like maths and science are superior because they pertain to such knowledge. According to Dewey, it is not just knowledge from low status subjects, like vocational education, that is contextual, fallible, concrete and practical. All knowledge is of this nature. This is not grounds for dismissing the teaching of knowledge altogether. Rather, it is only because knowledge is of this nature that it is meaningful. A Deweyian notion of curriculum entails the teaching of what Young ([75], [76]) calls 'powerful knowledge' to all students. Such knowledge is not powerful because it gives students access to high status, middle-class careers and lifestyles. It is a powerful tool that students can use to intelligently transform the world in which they live.
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curriculum hierarchy= the assumption that some class subjects are more important than others
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curriculum hierarchy is an assumption that some school subjects are more valuable than others.
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Dewey focused on concrete social problems and that provoked students to integrate diverse disciplinary knowledge.
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vocational subjects that prepare students are devalued while high;y abstarct cirriculum(math) are esteemed
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argued that subjects most associated with abstract reasoning and the acquistion of the universsal truths were the most important. He believed that the highest level of education was only for those fit to rule.
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I completely agree with John Dewey’s approach to education. Education should be connected to students’ life experiences, develop their interests, needs, and abilities. Yes, traditional academic subjects are also necessary. However, in the core school curriculum, we often miss the fact that we all live in society, and people need to be prepared for adult life, taught how to survive in the modern world, know where to turn and how to act in various life situations. In my school, we mostly write lab reports or essays, study mathematics, physics, or geometry. I find all of this boring, and I found https://edubirdie.com/lab-report-writing-service as a way to solve this difficulty. But I don’t really understand how cosines or amperes will help me solve real-life problems. In that aspect, I’ll have to figure it out on my own.
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Further elaboration on the implementation and potential challenges of the proposed model would enhance the paper’s impact.
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