Languaging and Democratic Knowledge
We tend
to think of knowledge as something that is transmitted. This is especially true in school
settings. We assume an objective reality
that we all share, and we assume we have the obligation to transmit what we
know about that objective reality in school.
Maturana’s concept of ‘languaging,’ which I have written about earlier,
cuts against these assumptions in some interesting and important way. Languaging assumes that rather than a fixed
and objective reality we constantly bringing forth a reality in the dynamic
interchange we call culture. In a
languaging model of education, transmission is never a completely adequate
description of how knowledge is created and shared. In a democratic production of knowledge,
languaging is a key component of describing how we make and share our view of
the world.
Even
Maturana recognizes the need for transgenerational transmission of
knowledge. An autopoietic model of
consciousness preserves the parts of the ‘background’, in this case cultural
knowledge and protocols, that allow the members of a culture to coordinate
behaviors with each other. If every
encounter were new and unscripted and every action was unprecedented and
unknown, we would be in a constant state of anxiety and ignorance. Without transgenerational transmissions, we
would never develop the complex ways of being that characterize our world. The issue is not that transgenerational
transmissions shouldn’t happen, the issue is that they are only part of the knowledge
making process. An autopoietic view of our
interactions also has to account for change, the part of the background that is
being replaced or rearranged.
The
inevitable need to change, to adapt, must also be part of a democratic
production of knowledge. In traditional
models, the change is controlled by elites and institutions who decide what
gets preserved and what gets let go. The
hope is that some benign oligarchy of ‘experts’ is steering the ship in a
prudent and safe direction, one that benefits the majority of the society. As America has become less and less
democratic, those elites have taken advantage of their role to steal the
majority of the people blind and use our cultural institutions to insulate them
from critique. In the process, our role
in bringing forth a world that we want to live in, one that conforms to our
hopes and desires, or even just one that is environmentally sustainable, gets
lost. We need to think about how we use
our institutional knowledge production to insure the role languaging plays.
When
children have to only learn what other people think they should learn, their
minds are colonized in ways that make it hard for them to generate the energy
and imagination it takes to bring a new order into being. A nation of informed but uneducated and
unimaginative people afraid of sharing the world with others leads to a
collapse of democratic society. We have
educated our children not to participate but to spectate, and the result is a
destruction of civic and democratic values and energy. A real democracy needs the countervailing and
dynamic postionalities that make a diverse and democratic society
possible. We learn about ourselves from
interacting with others. We learn about
our world by seeing it through multiple sets of perspectives. We learn about democracy by refusing to
settle for one story.
Life is
dynamic. Learning should be, too. The saddest thing that happened to me every
semester I taught was watching a new group of students trudge in and slump in a
chair, already convinced that was about to happen was dead and deadening. Some would revive, like hikers coming in from
the cold, but many would not. They
didn’t want to play. I assume at one
point in their life they did. I assume
at one point they were the scared but excited kindergartener who couldn’t wait
to climb on a bus and start a journey.
Their eyes told me that time was long past. In a society where the 10%, the experts, make
all the decisions, maybe the ones who still wanted to play will do. In a real democracy, that’s not nearly enough.
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