RUTHFULLY YOURS

The National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) has proclaimed that it is time “to decenter book reading and essay writing as the pinnacles of English language arts education.” Apparently, they don’t teach irony in English classes anymore.

The argument in the statement isn’t new. At the turn of the century, John Dewey, a central figure in progressive education, argued that the industrial revolution necessitated a “new education.” Now, the NCTE argues that “as society and technology change, so too does literacy,” and so we English teachers must focus on videos, gifs, memes, and other media.

They absolutely shouldn’t, though. Society might change, but the cognitive architecture of our brains does not. We need explicit instruction, repeated practice, phonics, a broad base of knowledge, and models to read and reason clearly. As they did centuries ago, students must grapple with rigorous, thematically rich texts to develop the capacity for critical thought, just as anyone must strain against weights to build muscle.

Similarly, technology changes, but great ideas don’t. When I was a student, blogging and Myspace were the hot new technologies. Anything I could teach my current students about the use of social media or software will be outdated by the time they mature. However, the wisdom in great literature and the warnings and exemplars found in historical texts are timeless.

Ultimately, the insular focus on present issues and contemporary media within the NCTE statement is self-defeating. If anything, to face the challenges of the future, students will need the lessons of the past. If we value self-control with social media, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is the perfect warning against enslavement to passions. If we want eloquence, students need models in beautiful prose. If we want them to identify bias, they must familiarize themselves with the arguments and first principles that occur over and again throughout time.

It’s worth noting that the NCTE statement doesn’t come from a place of simple mediocrity. It has ideological sources, drawing on strains from both progressive education and progressive politics to justify its recommendations.

Dewey argued that the content of what students learn matters less than the skills they practice. Likewise, the NCTE statement cites “GIFs and selfies” as important, non-linguistic forms of expression worth learning. However, what students read is essential. My one-year-old daughter’s scribbles are forms of expression, yes, but not necessarily ones worth teaching in the classroom.

In his book on literacy instruction, Doug Lemov, the managing director of the successful network Uncommon Schools, argues that only through the “sustained relationship between reader and text” that a novel requires “can students really learn to read.” He continues: “The most successful schools and teachers opt for books.”

If we want our students to critically consider the present, a skill prized in the NCTE statement, the best means to develop this ability is through the lenses of the past. As Matthew Arnold wrote, reading great books, old literature, and novels beyond our insular interests turns a stream of “fresh and free thought upon our stock notions and habits, which we now follow staunchly but mechanically.” The present creates the worst form of bias, and books help shake us from it.

As for progressive politics, the statement invokes “critical pedagogy,” an activist form of education that would have schools be the loci of societal reform. Finishing a book is less important than discussing topics like “immigration, xenophobia, police brutality, racism, and environmental degradation.” Never mind considering religion, free will, virtues, the nature of being, ethics, or any other topic unrelated to contemporary social fads.

Unfortunately, this NCTE statement isn’t a lone phenomenon. One of the nation’s most popular English curricula, the Units of Study, discourages reading whole books, and instead uses novel excerpts and movie clips. Students read through critical lenses — from critical race to Freudian and Marxist — and spend class time reflecting on their own immutable characteristics.

At one school where I worked, reading excerpts was quickly becoming the norm. Teachers read parts of Shakespeare or Harper Lee because they deemed finishing a book as unimportant, filling in the details with clips from various movies.

It’s all a bold, heroic display of lowered expectations. Follow this line of thought to its logical conclusion and the NCTE will be recommending our students while away their hours by scrolling through TikTok videos. There may be some consolation in knowing that if the NCTE does succeed in its goals, at least no one will be able to read their silly statement in a few years anyway.