The Book of Learning and Forgetting

Sometimes small books pack big punches. The Book of Learning and Forgetting by Frank Smith is one of those. Don’t let its serene cover fool you. Here are extracts from the opening chapter that provide a synopsis of the book, so you know exactly what you’re in for.

“This is a tale of two visions, of two conflicting points of view, about matters central to everyone’s life: learning and forgetting. I refer to one vision as the classic view of learning and forgetting. It is classic because it is archetypal, universal, deep-rooted, and uncontaminated. It says, very simply, that we learn from people around us with whom we identify. We can’t help learning from them, and we learn without knowing that we are learning.”

“There is an alternative to the classic view that is preeminent, coercive, manipulative, discriminatory – and wrong. It is a theory that learning is work, and that anything can be learned provided sufficient effort is expended and sufficient control enforced. The theory has gained supreme power in educational systems from kindergarten to university. It has become so pervasive that many people can’t imagine an alternative to it. This is the view – I call it the official theory of learning and forgetting – that is responsible for…”

What proceeds is a litany of evils that most current school systems run. Let me just highlight three.

·      Persuading individuals that they won’t learn unless they make a determined effort, and that the fault is theirs if they fail,

·      Imposing discriminatory and discouraging “tests” that ensure that individuals who most need help and encouragement get the least,

·      Convincing teachers, learners, and parents that the most important thing about education is scores and grades.

Frank Smith thinks that true learning is one that happens without “struggle”. We learn all the time, and in fact often learn things that are detrimental. We learn some things so well, they are not easy to forget and become ingrained – one of these is the official theory itself. Having been steeped in it, it’s hard to see differently, almost as if we’re stuck in a system. We learned it from those around us – parents, teachers, fellow classmates, school authorities, the mass media, pundits, and we absorbed it naturally (or classically).

The book has four parts. The first chapter I’ve quoted from above is very short and succinct laying out the conflict. Part II lays out the classic theory. This is followed by the official theory in Part III, and the final part is subtitled “Repairing the Damage”. It’s a slim book, only a hundred pages with twelve short chapters. In this post, I will highlight parts that I found interesting from Part II, and the next post will deal with the fiery Part III. (This is the second time around I’m reading the book, as part of my summer reading plan.)

In keeping with his succinct style, the author summarizes the classic theory: “You learn from the company you keep.” His examples mostly come from teaching and observing children, but his view isn’t one that’s highly disputed. We see children learn from those around them, absorbing both information and mannerisms like sponges. When they become teenagers and young adults, we worry about their peer group. We might monitor what children read, consume from other forms of mass media (music, radio, TV, movies, and everything sprawling over the internet). Why? Because we all recognize, to some degree, the power of these influences.

Literacy occupies a special place in this section. It turns out that children can learn words at immense rates (a way to estimate vocabulary is presented). However, it was clear that the main difference in a child’s range of vocabulary had to do with how much they read. (The researchers had controlled for socioeconomic status, parent’s education, size of family, etc., in this study.) You didn’t need a large range to begin with – in fact it is built up from reading. Furthermore, there was a correlation to better writing, spelling and overall academic skills. In the act of reading, the reader “joins the company of authors”. Smith provides some very compelling vignettes by examining the behavior of “reading to, for, and with children” and why the author is an excellent collaborator to learning. This unconscious learning as you lose yourself in a good book becomes a joyful activity, far removed from the drudgery and difficulty one might associate with school and learning.

In chapter 5 (“Learning Through Life”), the author provides a vignette of a friend who is a fount of “unwanted information” on British family royal gossip. Smith says he is tempted to use the official theory to stem this tide. “I imagine telling my friend he should work harder to learn. I’ll ask him to pay greater attention to news about the royal family in future and to take extensive notes. To help his learning I’ll send him frequent tests. I’ll also keep a record of his scores and let him know if he is keeping up or falling behind… [and after more examples,] I know what will happen. He’ll come to hate reading about the royal family… He might even give up reading altogether. By making him self-conscious about his learning I could destroy it, together with his confidence in himself.”

Smith doesn’t pull his punches. Joy is twisted into drudgery. I do think that there are better things than royal family gossip that one should be learning, such as chemistry. But I can’t help thinking that I say similar things to my students in my classes. I do try to do things to promote intrinsic motivation for learning the subject matter, but perhaps those are just minor fixes to prop up an unpalatable activity. There are some students who absolutely love what they’re studying (you can tell easily!) but for many of them, it’s the hoop that they have to jump through to get to the next level. Stuck in a system indeed. And for those who don’t do well – what do they learn? They may not learn much chemistry, but they are learning – learning that they are “no good at it”. It could be science, math, whatever else it is. And this is a negative lesson that’s hard to forget.

And on that downer of a note, stay tuned for the bleaker sequel when we tackle the official theory next.