Abstract
The paper traces the development of citizenship in the curriculum in England since the 1960s, emerging particularly from the Crick report. It argues for lessons to be learnt from John Dewey’s ‘Democracy and education’, the centenary of which is being celebrated this year.
Introduction
The references in this article come inevitably from Britain – and more specifically from England. They arise from the fairly recent attempt to introduce citizenship quite explicitly onto the curriculum of schools. The key document was the Report, produced by Bernard Crick in 1998, entitled We aim at no less than a change in the political culture of this country both nationally and locally: for people to think for themselves as active citizens, willing, able and equipped to have an influence on public life and with the critical capacities to weigh evidence before speaking and acting; to build on and to extend radically to young people the best in existing traditions of community involvement and public service, and to make them individually confident in finding new forms of involvement and action amongst themselves.
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The Report had been commissioned by the Qualifications and Curriculum Authority – the Government body which, since the legislation of 1988, created a National Curriculum for schools from the age of 5 to the age of 14. That National Curriculum set down 10 subjects and the attainment levels to be achieved in each subject at four key stages, namely, at the ages of 7, 11, 14 and 16. These subjects were English, mathematics, science, history, geography, art, music, physical education, and design and technology, a modern language.
Criticisms soon emerged from the definition of a compulsory curriculum, with its detailed specifications of what should be known at each stage. It looked very much like the traditional Grammar School curriculum, ignoring those areas of learning which do not fit easily into the academic subjects – for example, personal and social development, entrepreneurship and growth of citizenship.
Therefore, added to the list of subjects were what were referred to as ‘cross-curriculum themes’, with reference mainly to matters of personal and social concern including ‘health education’, ‘entrepreneurship’, ‘career development’ and eventually ‘citizenship’. What is the point in becoming a brilliant historian, a competent scientist, a genius mathematician if, as a result of a long education at public expense, one had little concern for the public good and the determination to contribute to it?
It was partly arising from such concerns and developments that the Crick Report was commissioned, in the light of which, in 2002, citizenship became a compulsory part of the curriculum for all secondary students up to the age of 16 as a
A citizenship culture: Its introduction in schools
It would, of course, have been wrong to believe that in one way or another citizenship was not being taught in schools – even if it was not
Concern for the public good;
Being able to articulate a moral position in social life;
An understanding of the political context;
Critical engagement with moral and social ideas;
Determination to improve civic society.
But it would be ‘hit or miss’, emphasised in some schools but not in others. Citizenship, therefore, needed to be a ‘ How can we become a citizen culture, a country whose inhabitants think it normal, right and even pleasurable to be concerned with and actively involved in public affairs?
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To produce such a culture, one must extend the notion of citizenship from that confined to participating in national affairs through the occasional opportunity to vote in national elections: to all those institutions intermediate and mediating between the individual and the state which we call civil society – on which in a free society the power and authority of government ultimately depends. (See Note 2)
His vision of active citizenship, therefore, would have included participating in community organisations, contributing to local debates and controversies, building relationships within the locality, taking an interest in local as well as national politics and actively engaged in overcoming social problems.
Key, therefore, to this ‘creation of a citizen culture’ was concepts for understanding political and social contexts and issues;
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such as key economic concepts, and knowledge of social structures; and political situations; such as respect for reason and a concern for the truth.
Note, then, to be brief: appropriate literacy, practical skills and virtues.
But such a ‘citizen culture’ was not a purely academic exercise – something which one could learn for success in examinations. It had to be embedded in practice – a ‘knowing how’ as much as a ‘knowing that’. One comes to acquire this ‘political literacy’ through engaging in relevant activities and through critical appraisal of the understandings and values which underpin those activities.
A decade or so, prior to this, there had been some noteworthy attempts by individual teachers and schools to introduce what subsequently would be called citizenship. And there are lessons to be learnt from these.
For example, Eric Midwinter’s Liverpool project challenged the idea of education in deprived areas as a means for children to escape from their impoverished communities in which they lived. But such a deficit model of a whole community needed to be challenged, and the most effective form of challenge would be for the pupils themselves to develop the knowledge, the practical skills and the dispositions or virtues to rectify the disadvantages from which their communities and therefore they themselves suffered. Emphasis was given to community projects (including researching the social problems, identifying the means to overcome them and campaigning for public support).
A second example was that of Chris Searle, a teacher in a Hackney school, serving an extremely disadvantaged area of London. Many of the pupils were Black and suffering at that time from racial discrimination. To help them develop not only an understanding or knowledge of their social situation and the powerful forces which constrained their lives but also the capacities to change such situations, he encouraged and enabled them to express their feelings and situations through their creative writing and to explore the conditions under which they lived. But equally important for their political education – for their coming to understand what it means to be a citizen (or rather what lies in their being excluded from full citizenship) – was the communication of their writings to a wider audience. Hence, Searle established a printing press and bookshop and together they produced a magazine, widely circulated,
Such examples inevitably met opposition, and that is the danger of serious programmes of political literacy and of education seen as an essential element in education for citizenship. In Midwinter’s case, the community projects of the four schools were finally closed after sustained criticism according to which, by focusing on the conditions of their local community, the teachers were not preparing the students for the wider community into which they might enter and, one hopes, become active citizens. In Searle’s case, he was sacked for publishing and disseminating the children’s poetry in
But perhaps there are deeper reasons. The kind of experiential learning, which so often has been advocated to motivate and to give relevance to what is learnt in other areas of the curriculum (e.g. English or history or environmental science), especially among more alienated groups such as those in Midwinter’s and Searle’s students, raises worries in the minds of more powerful voices in society. It challenges the status quo in society. The research by Stuart Ranson following the riots which took place in Toxteth and Bristol in the early 1980s quoted the concerns of one civil servant: If we have a highly educated and idle population we may possibly anticipate more serious social conflict. People must be educated once more to know their place.
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Therefore, one major problem to be faced in citizenship education is that of giving students a political voice which may not accord with that of the education and political authorities. Citizenship education, as defined in the National Curriculum, was revised in 2005, and it has staggered on with several changes ever since.
How far, therefore, can citizenship education – where (as surely it must be) it involves ‘political literacy’ not simply as the disinterested understanding of (in our cases) democratic society but as the skills and inclination to participate in its development –escape from political opposition. If it was just ‘disinterested understanding’, carefully orchestrated by the teacher such that the pupils were exposed to the arguments on both sides of a disputed policy or social arrangement, then as Porter (who worked with Crick) argued, Political literacy would be limited to a solitary intellectual exercise; the politically literate person would merely be capable of well-informed observation and analysis. [But] the ultimate test of effective political education lies in creating a proclivity to action.
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Philosophical roots of citizenship
In the light of that, it is worth pausing a little and reflecting on the diverse philosophical roots of what it means to be, and thus to become, a citizen.
What is often referred to as the ‘classical’ conception of citizenship goes back to the Greeks and Romans, namely, unlike the slaves, citizens had certain rights and indeed obligations. An example of such an obligation would be that of undertaking military service for the state if called upon to do so or indeed to pay taxes as that had been ordained by the state. Those rights could include access to a system of justice, taking part in the political life of the ‘polis’ or city. Of course, such ‘taking part’ might be more or less extensive in terms of public debates and voting and indeed, as in Plato’s
One extension of this notion of ‘basis rights’ lies in the incorporation of the right to exercise ‘economic freedom’ and thereby a severe limitation on government control over individual freedom to pursue their own lives as they wish, including the pursuit of personal profit. This, in a more extreme form, might be regarded as a ‘neo-liberal concept’ of civic rights. Of course, it is a matter of much moral debate as to how far the state should limit such rights since one person’s freedom in this respect can so easily become another person’s slavery. At what stage does the citizen have the right to be protected against the trickery of the entrepreneur?
There can be no simple answer to such a question, and where one stands on it shapes the political debate to which the citizen, so educated, would be both able and willing to contribute. But, in order to make such a contribution, the ‘classic concept’ of citizenship slides bit by bit into what is often referred to as the ‘civic republican’ idea, derived from a more positive view of the citizen being an active member of the political community. In the ancient Athenian democracy, the citizens were expected to participate in the public debates concerning the laws which upheld the rights and duties within the city state. To be a citizen was to be inducted into a form of public life with its norms of civic involvement and conduct. This more positive view of being a citizen was clearly expressed by McLaughlin: On ‘minimal’ views, the identity conferred on an individual by citizenship is seen mainly in formal, legal, juridical terms … On maximal views, however, this identity is seen as a richer thing … Thus the citizen must have a consciousness of him or herself as a member of a living community with a shared democratic culture involving obligations and responsibilities as well as rights, a sense of the common good, fraternity, and so on.
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Such a broader and deeper understanding of citizenship has profound consequences for citizenship education. It brings to the fore the development of such virtues as justice and caring for the weak and vulnerable in society. It requires the initiation of the young people into a form of life in which they feel identified with a community, the enrichment of which is part of the enrichment of themselves. It supports the belief that each not only can, but also should, be part of that enriching process. To that end, structures would be put in place (through, for example, local councils and voluntary organisations), in which that empowerment is achieved and exercised.
New challenges
There are, however, interesting challenges to these understandings or implementations of citizenship.
The first lies in the increasing breadth of the so-called community of which one can be said to be a member or citizen. Presumably it could be said that, on the basis of the Treaty of Rome in 1960, the members of all countries subscribing to it are citizens of the European Union, the parliament of which enacts laws which are binding throughout the member states, including the right to travel and to work in any of those countries. And, in contrast to Europe which was a constant battlefield for centuries, there has emerged an interdependence and a shared set of values affecting all members. Students increasingly cross frontiers to study in universities. Workers are not constrained by previous national borders. There is a sharing of health insurance. Travelling through Europe is very different from what it was like when I first went through France and Switzerland to Rome in 1955.
And yet there is among many a disillusionment with this loss of national citizenship, and we are about to witness in the United Kingdom a referendum as to whether the United Kingdom should remain within this European Union. Indeed, further still, if the vote were for leaving the union, there might well be pressure from the Scots for a referendum on whether or not they should remain within the United Kingdom. Citizenship would be redefined further. How much of ‘sameness’ is required for common citizenship? And what, through education, can be done to create it?
The second lies in the multicultural nature of modern societies as a result of immigration over several decades, but now increasing much further as a result of wars in the Middle East and refugees from Africa. Some years ago, there were major race riots in cities in the north of England where there was considerable ethnic diversity. The excellent Ouseley Report which followed pointed to the consequence of a socially and ethnically segregated Britain with the growing minority feeling alienated from the mainstream society. For these to be fully citizens, not simply in having the formal rights to vote and access to the judicial system, then, as Ouseley argued, there is a need to ensure through education and schooling that they should feel part of mainstream society and be treated in every way as such. And that is a two-way obligation – the education of those who are in the social mainstream as well as those who feel alienated. 8
The third, and connected, challenge lies in bringing into the wider society the large number of young people from disadvantaged backgrounds who feel alienated from that society. This was clear from what were referred to as the ‘August Riots’ in English cities in 2011. Thousands took to the streets in several London boroughs and in four or five cities across the country. They looted shops and there were cases of arson. Altogether, there were over 3400 recorded crimes, £200 million worth of damage done to property and five people killed. The catalyst for the troubles was the shooting of Mark Duggan by the police in an ugly incident in Tottenham. The police claimed that he was threatening with a gun. It would be wrong to say that the incident
Within a few days, over 3000 people were arrested and 2000 found guilty and sentenced. Of these, 700 aged 10–7 years were prosecuted. They came from the range of ethnic groups within the multi-ethnic communities – this was not a race riot. Many of these teenagers were being drawn into the criminal justice system for the first time. Their background is interesting. From the youth cohort aged 10–17 years, 45% were or had been in the bottom 10% of school achievement, 45% had special educational needs, 40% were on free school meals and 30% showed persistent absenteeism from school. Can such strong correlations offer an
Many different explanations were given for their offending:
Socio-economic: 60% of the total were claiming benefits as a result of poverty, and 35% of the adults were claiming ‘out-of-work benefit’, rendered worse by the recent national cuts in benefit for the worst off;
A ‘broken society’: The Prime Minister condemned the ‘sickening scenes of people looting, vandalising, thieving, robbing’ and blamed the cause on a ‘broken society’ and ‘moral collapse’;
Opportunism by those, often young, who saw no wrong in ‘taking part’;
Perceived social injustice arising from the widening gap between rich and poor, causing a sense of alienation and exclusion from the wider society (this coming from the ‘self-reporting’ of the rioters in later research).
These then become the challenges of citizenship education as I have explicated it, namely, supporting a multicultural society, overcoming racism and giving all young people (whatever their social and economic status) a sense of belonging to the wider society. But especially regarding the last, the schools can play only part (and possibly only a small part) in that recreation of a more equal society.
Education in citizenship
Already I have pointed to the educational implications of the importance of developing citizenship – for example, the relevance of the humanities and the arts, taught with citizenship in mind; assuring that all students have a sense of dignity and value in what they do; acquiring the concepts and language for discussing social and political issues; and engaged in activities which aim to improve social situations. But much more needs to be said.
First, engaging students in critical discussion over controversial issues
Here, I wish to work through an example within the teaching of the humanities. What are the kinds of issues which are matters of controversy within society, which divide people and yet which have to be resolved – ideally through open and critical discussion and on the basis of evidence? One can think of many, such as the prevalence of racism, the controversies over sexual relationships and behaviour, the use of violence to settle disputes, the exercise of power within society and inequality in terms of wealth and opportunity. One could go on. How can such issues be the focus of learning within a school?
One project showed the way – The School Council’s Humanities Project arising from the work of Laurence Stenhouse and his team at the University of East Anglia. Discussion was to be at the centre of the group consideration with no preconceived right answer. But the discussion needed to be based on evidence, whether that be from the social sciences, history, literature, anthropology, theology and so on. That evidence needed to support both sides of the controversial discussion. It was the teacher’s job to enable that open-ended, evidence-based discussion, to protect the student who might feel vulnerable and to ensure there was available the kind of evidence which could be drawn upon to support a particular position. Students’ personal experience would also be relevant – for example, discrimination which they had suffered from, poverty which they had experienced and injustices which they felt about their treatment in school.
The teacher’s role was difficult and needed to be carefully developed because he or she had to maintain ‘neutral position’ in order not to discourage discussion and exploration. Quality lay not in ‘the correct answer’ but in the nature of the discussion, in the ability to listen to the opposite argument, in the weighing up of the evidence, in the encouragement and the caring for those who were less articulate or with minority views.
To be open to different points of view on matters of personal and social concern, to respect those with different points of view, to constantly relate what is claimed to relevant evidence – these would seem to be crucial qualities in active citizenship. We must learn to live together in community despite our differences.
Second, creating the ‘Just Community School’
Central to the form of social life referred to earlier as ‘civic republican’ must be the recognition of justice – the sense (based on a legal system, on respect for each and everyone, on access to opportunities) that everyone matters and that justice for all should prevail. Justice – as the treatment of everyone equally unless good grounds can be given for differences (i.e. the onus lies on the shoulders of those who want to treat particular people or classes of people differently) – is the key virtue to be embodied in the institutional arrangements of the citizen as well as in the personal behaviour of the citizens.
The work of Laurence Kohlberg is relevant here. At the Centre of Moral Development which he established at Harvard University, he developed an approach through which young people could come to argue on personal and social issues on the basis of principle. By principle, he meant (following the philosopher Immanuel Kant) acting according to what could be universalised – and thus neither on the dictates of authority nor on the pursuit of one’s own personal wishes. To put it in various forms, the ultimate principle would be to ‘do unto others as you would wish they would do unto you’ or (put in another way) ‘to act on that principle which you would wish to become a universal law of nature’. To get the students to reach the stage of principled thinking, they would be exposed to various social and moral dilemmas (telling a lie in order to be loyal to a friend in trouble, stealing a drug to save a life).
However, it was shown that no amount of increased sophistication in moral reasoning had much effect on moral behaviour. What was essential was not just personal development but the ethos of the community in which the students were living. If you want a person to cherish justice, he or she needs to be within a community which embodies the virtue of justice. The school had to be a ‘just community school’. The relations, the arrangements and the relationships within the school would need to be informed by a sense of justice. I once worked in a school in the poorest part of London. One sixth former, originally from Ghana and expelled from his previous school, pointed out to me the wall charts which proclaimed the need for greater justice and said this school really believes in that. He turned out to be a successful pupil and, I suspect, an active citizen in pursuit of a more just and less discriminating society.
Third, examining the role and practice of the media
Bernard Crick refers to much of the social media as a form of ‘bread and circuses designed to divert people from the real issues’ and in so doing refers to George Orwell’s Ministry of Truth in the satire
Bring back John Dewey
Should you ever go to New York, you should pay a visit to Ellis Island which, for many decades, was the entry to millions of immigrants to the United States from Europe and Africa – often poor and illiterate, from many different ethnic groups and religious traditions. At Ellis Island, after weeks of rough travel across the Atlantic Ocean, it was decided whether or not they should enter the United States and become citizens eventually.
The question to be posed was, ‘How could such a tide of humanity from such different cultural backgrounds come to share a common citizenry?’ ‘How could there be achieved a commonness of interest and purpose despite their diversity?’
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This ‘life of the group’ constitutes a community. Furthermore, Men live in a community in virtue of the things which they have in common. What they must have in common in order to form a community or society are aims, beliefs, aspirations, knowledge – a common understanding – like mindedness as the sociologists say.
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The common school, therefore, would be the place whose primary aim was to provide such a community, to enable these diverse people to learn to live together, not just by tolerating differences but by learning from them. The gradual attainment of a common culture and the motivation to pursue such an ideal when they left school and became participating citizens. In a speech much later to the meeting of the American Association of Teachers Colleges, 12 Dewey criticised contemporary American education because, in being so subject-centred and in dictating what counts as the correct answers, it failed to address the most important aims of education, namely, to address society’s great contemporary problems, to develop a critical capacity in relation to the status quo and thus to seek to change them – despite the unfairness and the forces militating against a sense of community. Education was creating a ‘passive population’ where ‘economic forces decide political activity’ and ‘operate in ways that are not open and clear to the mass of citizens’.
What was true for Dewey’s America is little different from today’s Britain, and there is a need to take seriously the educational purpose of creating in schools a sense of community, one in which there is an attempt to create a common culture, a basis for engaging critically with the social and economic forces which shape people’s lives and which equip the future citizens for promoting such a culture in the wider society into which they are to enter. But that is not easy where schooling is dominated by testing, where students are separated increasingly by class (especially with the dominance of private schools) and where political powers are wary of such active, critical and open approach to matters of social and political control.