1.8 - Aims of Education Revisited - Christopher Winch
1.8 - Aims of Education Revisited - Christopher Winch
1, 1996
co-operate with change and all kinds of unforeseen circumstances may arise
which thwart the aim of getting drivers to change their behaviour.
But in any case societies are not mechanisms composed of institutions that
carry out discrete functions. They are interconnected sets of institutions with
histories, cultures and networks of rules that affect all aspects of the lives of
individual members. The different aspects of a society affect each other.
Changes in one aspect are likely to affect the way in which another aspect
carries on. Thus changes in education are likely to affect the way in which the
economy or the judicial system works. Since educational change is likely to
affect the whole or a large part of a society, it cannot be just a technical matter
for a few experts in education to determine, but ought at least, if the change is
going to be a healthy one, to involve the representatives of all those affected.
Any education system will have aims of some kind even if they are concealed
and/or implicit. A society that fails to articulate or even to get clear about the aims
of its education system will most likely enjoy a second-rate one, because some of
the most substantial interests in society will not have a chance to articulate what
they want from education, thus losing the chance that their interests will be
represented, leading to a danger of disillusion and contempt for the institution of
education itself. The formulation of aims for public education systems is,
therefore, a vital task for any democratic society which aims to have an effective
education system that commands the confidence of all sections of the population.
Furthermore, education is intrinsic to any society, since any society that has
ever existed or will ever exist has to prepare the young for adult life. Education
is a practice as ancient as the human race. This means that it carries with it an
enormous cultural tradition which runs back to the roots of any society. Any
change to education has enormous implications for the cultural identity of the
society in which the change takes place. As an ancient institution in any society,
education will have its own traditions, rituals and practices that will, to some
extent, determine how it operates whatever the external influences on it might
be. In the absence of externally determined aims, it will develop internal,
sometimes implicit but often, and most damagingly, covert ones which will
depend largely on tradition, on the interests of those involved in education and
on influential individuals within the education system, as well as other
influences from the wider society.
Any proposed large-scale change to a system of education has two different
kinds of implication. The first is the effect that it will have on the rest of society.
The second is the effect that it will have on the institution of education itself.
Unless both of these are understood, it is likely that the changes made will have
unexpected and possibly undesirable consequences. Setting out, clearly
articulating or changing the aims of education are three of the most
fundamental changes that could be made to any education system. There is,
therefore, a great temptation on the part of politicians and indeed of society as a
whole to avoid or to put off such a discussion. The temptation is made all the
stronger where it is known or suspected that there will be widespread and
substantial disagreement about what those aims should be. However, if they are
not set through a process of discussion and negotiation then they will emerge by
default, most likely in an implicit form within the education system itself. This
need not be the result of malice or of a desire to avoid accountability but may
0 The J O U ~ o/
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~ Philosophy o/ Education Society of Great Britain 19%
The Aims of Education Revkited 35
stem from the natural desire of people working within an institution to develop
a point of view, to make sense of what they are doing and to make their lives at
work at least reasonably satisfying and congenial.
something that could be quite difficult. The reason that the process 01
negotiation is not vitiated at the outset is that there is no requirement that
anyone from any group should be required to negotiate their values. All that
they are invited to do in any such process is to negotiate about the
implementation of those values in the public sphere.
While this suggests that the exercise is perfectly possible, it also suggests that it
may be difficult in certain circumstances, demanding a great deal of patience and
tolerance, not to mention a willingness to settle issues by negotiation rather than
by other means. There must also be sufficient common ground for dialogue
within the society for negotiation to take place. If two groups are so out of
sympathy with each other, with one for example not recognising the legitimacy of
a negotiated settlement with the other group, then dialogue may not be possible.
Certain conditions have to be met before negotiation about the implementation
of values can take place. Where values are largely shared, then the problems of
negotiation are lessened. There may be differences about which values should be
given priority, but negotiation about this may not be too difficult if both parties
are agreed that the same sets of values should be enshrined in educational aims
and differ only about which should be given most prominence.
Again, when two sets of values differ but are not mutually contradictory, it
should be possible to incorporate both to some degree at least within the overall
aims of education. When two moral points of view are largely congruent but
derive from differing and mutually contradictory religious standpoints it may
not be too difficult to arrive at consensus either, so long as in the public sphere
those values are promoted in a secular or religiously neutral idiom. The greatest 1 I
problems arise when the moral values held by two groups are mutually 5
contradictory. The problem is particularly acute when these values are of central I
to make, for their proposals would not allow the great majority of young people
to become autonomous, productive members of society, which is something
that most of them want.6
Vocational education is concerned with the development of knowledge, skill
and understanding insofar as these fit people for a particular kind of
employment or range of employments. A vocational education can be one of
a number of very different kinds of activity. In some cases it will look little
different from liberal education. For example, a postgraduate degree in
philosophy might be a necessary vocational qualification for someone who
wishes to teach the subject at the level of higher education. But the curriculum
and pedagogy of such a course need not, in any meaningful way, be
distinguishable from the curriculum and pedagogy of such a course pursued
with liberal aims. Yet the most common view of vocational education is that of
job training. This is a very distorted view of what vocational education might be
or actually is. It fails to take account of the wide variety of occupations that are
available. These include vocations properly so called such as writing or the
ministry, professions such as medicine or law, crafts such as cabinet making or
metalworking and trades such as carpentry or plumbing. All of these require
technical knowledge and skill, social ability and ethical commitment if they are
to be pursued in an effective and worthwhile manner.7 Making the choices
associated with the pursuit of a vocation is in itself making choices about ends.
Furthermore, there are values associated with the pursuit of an occupation such
as diligence, persistence, honesty, pride in the craft and its traditions, which
themselves are intrinsic values to be chosen along with the occupation itself. In
this sense, vocational education is associated with ‘weak autonomy’ and not
merely independence in relation to means.
There are various reasons why a particularly limited conception of vocational
education has come to dominate lay and professional thinking about the matter
in Britain and some other countries and it appears to be the case that different
societies have different views of the purpose, value and nature of vocational
education.8
Education for citizenship requires that a young person be prepared to play a
positive and constructive role in society. Moral maturity and the achievement of
weak autonomy appear to be prerequisites of this, as well as an ability to play a
role in society through work, whether it be paid, voluntary or domestic. There is
more to education for citizenship than this: for example, it may be necessary to
learn the practical skills and knowledge necessary to be a parent, a voter or a
local councillor. But it can hardly be maintained that there is no overlap
between the aims of education for citizenship and the aims of vocational and
liberal forms of education. Intrinsic and extrinsic aims need not be incompatible
with each other either.
A liberal education that provided no preparation for work or life as a citizen
would be intolerable to most people. Likewise, a vocational education that
provided no intrinsic or social satisfaction would be bleak and unrewarding. A
citizen with no cultural background and no ability to take part in the economic
life of the society would be only partly a citizen.
These reflections all suggest that the degree of commonality between different
forms of education is considerable and that they have some aims in common.
There will always be tensions in the degree of emphasis that ought to be placed
on one set of aims rather than another, but diversity of aims need not lead to a
loss of social cohesion if the aims complement each other and are arrived at
through a process of negotiation. There is plenty of scope for negotiation as to
which aims should receive priority and for the kinds of institutions that should
accommodate them. The contested nature of education should, in a healthy
polity, be about the relative importance that should be enjoyed by different
conceptions rather than about which conception is exclusively the correct one9
We have already seen how, although insofar as they are purposeful
institutions schools and colleges have aims, it is not always clear either to
outsiders or to participants what those aims actually are. It is difficult to avoid
the idea that there needs to be a minimal threshold of being educated which
defines the success of an educational system relative to the achievement of the
pupils or students within it. This may vary from country to country or from
culture to culture but there must be something like this for any education
system that one cares to mention. If there is not, then it is difficult to see how
one could begin to measure the success of the system as a whole. And if this
were to be the case, then the problem of accountability arises. How can an
education system that does not even set minimal standards of education justify
itself to those who pay for it and to those who spend time in it?
Grounding in the sense in which Letwin (cp. n.4 above) uses the term,
implying independence in the sense already described, seems to be indisputably
an aim for any educational system. It would appear to be what Letwin calls an
‘absolute duty’ for schools to provide this for their pupils. Nevertheless, not all
schools would recognise this as an absolute duty, holding perhaps that the
achievement of grounding was to be a by-product of the achievement of other
educational aims. Grounding pupils might be seen as a minimal aim, hardly one
that would be worthy of inclusion in a set of educational aims. This is not just a
theoretical issue; public awareness has been growing for some time of the fact
that standards of literacy and numeracy may be on the decline in parts of
America and Western Europe. This may in turn be connected with schools
having aims which presuppose or even deny the desirability of other aims such
as that of grounding pupils. It might, for example, be considered more
important for pupils to be creative than to be competent in secretarial skills such
as the ability to spell. The responsibility for grounding pupils is not clearly
located in many educational systems, nor is it always clear what the proper
limits of grounding are.
If grounding is an absolute duty of an education system, and liberal and
many vocational educators generally mean by ‘autonomy’ something more than
this, should weak autonomy be one of the major objectives of a publicly funded
education system? White’s answer would probably be ‘no’, for the reason that
the achievement of autonomy involves the achievement of the ability to
formulate a life plan and grounding may be a necessary, but is not a sufficient,
condition for doing that.IOSome might argue whether or not it is the business of
education to provide the ability to formulate a life plan. Rasselas, Prince of
Abyssinia in Samuel Johnson’s novel, did not seem to be able to do this by the
age of thirty, despite an extensive range of educational experiences.” There are
difficulties as well in saying to what extent preparation for autonomy in the
The curriculum for a maintained school satisfies the requirements of this section if it
is a balanced and broadly based curriculum which
(a) promotes the spiritual, moral, cultural, mental and physical development of
pupils at the school and of society; and
(b) prepares such pupils for the opportunities, responsibilities and experiences of
adult life.I3
All that this statement does is to express a very general concept of education,
giving no particular weight to any one conception. In relation to the
controversial character of the concept of educaton (see Chapter 2), no issue is
tackled. In practice this has meant that a liberal conception has dominated,
although to some commentators this bias has not been liberal enough. For
example, Gray writes of the National Curriculum,
Because there has been no consensus about aims and because aims have not
been articulated, a general uncertainty pervades the whole system of education.
The institutions that educate, the schools, colleges and universities, reflect this
uncertainty. It takes two main forms: one about the place, if any, for vocational
education; the other about the role of social, moral and religious education. The
latter is a highly sensitive area in which there are competing views about what is
appropriate. Some schools are allowed to have a specifically religious and moral
ethos. These are the schools associated with particular religions. However, not
all religions that would like schools associated with them are allowed to have
them. In the secular schools the problem of what to do about religion, morality
and the social side of education is also acute. To take an example, there is a
requirement for a daily act of worship which should reflect the predominantly
Christian nature of the society. But such an act of worship need not be
conducted by believers and the majority of pupils may not be practising
Christians, many belonging to different religions altogether. The aims of
education in this area are not easy to ascertain at all. Christianity is allowed to
retain a vestigial influence by default. Whether that is a good thing or not, the
overall result is that religious, moral and social education lacks a clear focus.
The position of vocational education is equally unclear. The liberal
conception remains dominant throughout the compulsory phases of schooling
and the curriculum is a unitary one until the age of sixteen, although there are
currently plans to introduce vocational variations after the age of fourteen. It is
true that technology is now a compulsory subject but it is one that has been
purged of its craft element and largely turned into an academic, liberal subject.”
This lack of clarity is reflected in the institutional arrangements for education
which predate the 1988 Act. In effect, Britain has an accumulation of
institutional traditions in education with the liberal academic one being
hegemonic. Now it is unavoidable and desirable that education should have
traditions. But when the dominant one of these traditions does not accord with
the abilities and aspirations of a majority of the population then the place of
education is bound to suffer. The British are relatively uninterested in education
and the state of the education system both contributes to and reflects that
relative lack of interest.16
This lack of clarity of purpose ramifies throughout the system: each type of
institution at each phase of education betrays a lack of clarity about its
purposes, a lack of clarity which is usually resolved in some way in favour of the
liberal hegemony.
NOTES
1. This latter proviso is necessary because there may be cases where a society’s educational aims may be
agreed and accepted by all without there being a written record of those aims. Conversely, they may be
written down in an authoritative way yet fail to command the consent of all involved. Written aims are
neither a necessary nor a sufficient condition to agreement; having them is a convenient way of making
explicit the construction of a consensus which may have been arrived at implicitly.
2. None of this suggests that it is impossible for people to change their values or even to be persuaded to
change them. One may see a particular point of view about how life should be lived as appealing and then,
at a later date, perhaps as a result of a prolonged conversation with someone, come to see it as less
appealing. But this is not the same thing as negotiating about values.
3. See, for example, J. P. White, Education and the Good Life, 1990; R. Norman, ‘I did it my way’: some
reflections on autonomy, Journal of Philosophy of Education, 28.1 1, 1994, pp. 2534.
4. Cf. Oliver Letwin, Education: the importance of grounding, 1988.
5. Indeed, if P. G. Wodehouse is to be believed, it is the valet of such a person, rather than the person
himself, who would need such an education in order to steer the individual safely through society. Bertie
Wooster does not need much of a liberal education in order to lead an exciting and full (if not productive)
life.
6. See endnote 4, Chapter 3, and cf. M. Sanderson, op. cit., Chapter 7 for evidence of how inadequate the
grammar schools were in preparing many of the children who attended them for an autonomous life.
7 . C. Winch, op. cit., 1995.
8. In this regard, it is interesting to compare Germany with the UK. See HMI, Aspects of Vocational
Education in the Federal Republic of Germany, 1990.
9. See Harold Entwistle, op. cit.
10. Cf. White, op. cit., pp. 25-26.
11. Samuel Johnson, Rasselus. Available in Charles Peake (ed.), ‘Rasselas’and Essays, 1967.
12. See, for example, J. P. White, op. cit.; R. Norman, op. cir.
13. Education Reform Act 1988, 1988, p. 1.
14. Gray, op. cit., p.27.
15. See M. Sanderson, op. cit.
16. Cf. National Commission on Education, op. cir., pp. 10-1 1; Richard Hoggart, The Uses of Literacy, 1957;
E. A. Johns, The Social Structure of Modern Britain, 1979, Chapter 4, esp. pp. 167-180.
17. For evidence on those factors which are thought to promote long-term non-academic benefits, see M.
Woodhead, Pre-school education has long-term effects: but can they be generalised? Oxford Review of
Education, 11.2 1985, pp. 133-156. For evidence of the effectiveness of English teaching in British
nurseries, see B. Tizard and M. Hughes, Young Children Learning, 1984.
18. See R. Alexander, Primary Teaching, 1984, Policy and Practice in the Primary School, 1992, and Innocence
and Experience, 1994. See also P. Mortimore, P. Sammons, L. Stoll, D. Lewis and R. Ecob, School
Marrers: the junior yeors, 1988, Chapter 4, pp. 52-55 for the perceptions of teachers within the system as
to what their aims are.
19. The evidence for this is to be found in the changing course profiles of the further education colleges: first
in their involvement in A-level work, and secondly in their involvement in tertiary education, often of a
not directly vocational kind.
20. L. Merriman, op. cit.