Challenging the Paradigm: The Inflated Value of
Technological Integration in Pedagogical Practice
By
Kimberly Reilly,
“One of the essential tasks of progressive educational praxis is the promotion of a curiosity that is critical, bold, and adventurous. A type of curiosity that can defend us from the excess of rationality that now inundates our highly technologized world. Which does not mean that we are to adopt a false humanist posture of denying the value of technology and science. On the contrary, it’s a posture of balance that neither deifies nor demonizes technology. A posture that is from those who consider technology from a critically curious standpoint.” --Paolo Freire1
Technology
undoubtedly begets curiosity, though more often than not, it can inspire an
over-awed and unquestioning curious
fascination rather than the ‘critical curiosity’ espoused by philosopher
Paolo Freire in the citation above. At first glance,
we can not help but gape and wonder of the phenomenon of technological
progress; we are charmed by the novelty and innovation of its advances. But
technology is not a self-moving force or some sort of divine propulsion. It
carries with it the motives and agendas of all those involved in its evolution
and necessarily impacts the lives of a very many people. Therefore, we are
obliged to consider “the imperatives of the new digital technologies,” if we
hope to better understand their sources and implementation (Giroux 178). In the
following essay, I shall investigate with particular scrutiny the technological
integration of the educational process, infused and inspired by a reading of
Michael Apple’s essay “Is the New Technology Part of the Solution or Part of
the Problem in Education?” I shall then examine the costs and benefits of this
trend, invoking the work of Henry A. Giroux and Michael J. Carbone
in order to emphasize that technology can never
substitute for pedagogy. Moreover, I shall demonstrate that exhaustive
technological integration in education may further disenfranchise already
marginalized populations while simultaneously compromising any capacity for the
‘critical curiosity’ championed by Paolo Freire.
Apple
asserts that “The computer and the new technology have been seen as something
of a savior economically and pedagogically. ‘High tech"’ will save
declining economies and will save our students and teachers in schools” (Darder 441). Those who adhere to this perspective hope the
integration of technology into the classroom environment will cultivate a wide-reaching
atmosphere of progress and cite many potential benefits: finding a revitalized
form of teacher autonomy, a new arena for individualized student attention, the
opportunity to hone critical thinking skills, and the resources by which
educators may create an innovative teaching environment ripe with multi-media
inspiration and web-based knowledge. Even Henry A. Giroux, a markedly critical
social commentator, argues that “advances in technology (a legacy of modernism)
do not have to be used in ways that further the concentration of economic power
associated with global capitalism;” that there is hope in technological advance
(54). New communications technologies, in particular, may facilitate the
exchange between teacher and student, as “many educators use e-mail, web
resources, on-line discussion groups, and computer based interaction to provide
invaluable opportunities for students to gain access to new knowledge and
enhance communication, dialogue, and learning” (Giroux 182). Technology has also paved the way for an
entirely new understanding of the visual and musical arts with the creation of
pioneering software programs like Adobe PhotoShop and PreSonus
Audio Production.
It
is hard to avoid the compulsion toward becoming blindly enamored with such almost
other-worldly innovation. Our infatuation with technology, as a society, verges
on religiosity, as we invest, many times without a second thought, so much of
our faith in its progress. In a certain regard, we seem to associate the notion
of technological progress with some divine guiding force. We speak about it as
“an autonomous process” with “a life of its own, independent of social
intentions, power, and privilege” (Darder 440). In so
doing, we reify it beyond conceivable human intervention. According to Michael
J. Carbone,
Technology represents a modern form of faith or
religion with the power of social redemption and eternal progress. We tend to
invest it with power unto itself which manifests our belief in technology’s
essential neutrality as something beyond human control, and characterized by an
inherent (and almost fatalistic) inevitability (13).
However, it is fundamental that
we realize this is not the case; the direction and implementation of new
technologies is inextricably bound to the respective agendas of its producers.
Thus, we can not ignore the role of corporate interest in the proliferation of
technology, particularly in the educational arena.
Apple contends that the “economic and ideological
pressures” put on educational institutions
have become rather intense and often very overt.
The language of efficiency, production, standards, cost-effectiveness, job skills, work
discipline, and so on—all defined by powerful groups and always threatening to become
the dominant way we think about schooling—has begun to push aside concerns for
a democratic curriculum, teacher autonomy, and class, gender, and race equality
(442, italics added).
Instead, the dominant market ideology, neoliberalism, and an obsession with progress have found
their way into nearly every social structure in the United States, the
educational system being just one. Technology serves, more often than not, to
facilitate the propagation of these corporate ideologies. “As schools become more
reliant upon technologies and more characterized by them, they also become more
reliant on those who provide the databases, software, hardware, etc. Issues of
the source and control of data and access must
therefore become important to educators” (Carbone
21). Carbone worries about schemes for the
technological saturation of schools, and makes mention of “Chris Whittle’s
Project Edison and Perelman’s call for the actual elimination of public
schools, both of which feature technology at the center of their curricular
proposals. As schools become more connected to, and dependent upon,
technological resources, the results may empower an elite
outside of teachers and other professional’s control” (23).
Chris Whittle, CEO of Edison Schools, Inc. owns and operates
the private management firm which happens to oversee many schools in the
Chester Upland District of Philadelphia, one of which being the Potter Thomas
School visited by our “Education and Social Justice” class last week. Potter
Thomas is a school in turmoil—its students suffer from neglect, malnourishment,
improper hygiene, and substandard education. These children encounter many
difficulties in the classroom and are not even allowed to go to the bathroom
alone (the K-8 school has had problems with sexual assault in the past). The
school’s administration is frustrated and disconnected from the local
community, and though Potter Thomas has been given computers and a standardized
curriculum, the school itself continues to struggle in many ways. Not only are Whittle’s plans for a revitalization of the public system
floundering, but his company is currently under investigation by the SEC
(Securities & Exchange Commission). Giroux explains that “If CEOs are going
to provide some insight into how education should be reformed…they will have to
recognize that the problems with American schools cannot be reduced to matters
of accountability or cost effectiveness. Nor can the solution to such problems
be reduced to the spheres of management, economics, and technological
quick-fixes such as Distance Education” (174).
Apple’s essay confronts the issue of
technology as a solution to educational troubles and raises number of
provocative questions on the matter. He asks,
Behind
the slogans of technological progress and high-tech industry, what are some of
the real effects of the new technology on the future labor market? What may
happen to teaching and curriculum if we do not think carefully about the new
technology’s place in the classroom? Will
the growing focus on technological expertise, particularly computer literacy,
equalize or further exacerbate the lack of social opportunities for our most
disadvantaged students? (Darder 442, italics
added).
All of
these concerns echo my own questions, my own intermingled sense of
undifferentiated hope and distrust of technology as the world’s panacea. Is
technology living up to its promises? Is it working for the good of us all and
improving the overall quality of life? Can
it?
Apple worries that the boom in technological
fields has created far more jobs in “low-skilled clerical and service
occupations” such as “building custodians, cashiers, secretaries, office
clerks…waiters…truck drivers, and other health workers such as nurses’ aides
and orderlies” which “actually pay below average wages” (Darder
444-5). So while we have come to see technological savvy as a prerequisite for
acquiring a job and earning wages, the field has actually created a
disproportionate need for lower-level employment and unskilled labor. Apple
refers to this general trend as the “increasing proletarianization and de-skilling of
jobs” in which the worker’s tasks become automated and the product (and
ultimately, control) of his labor become divorced from his actual work (443).
Apple refers to this process as “the separation of conception from execution”
(448). The process practically necessitates the traditionally Marxist sense of
alienation and is exacerbated by shrinking job markets and intense competition
for employment among workers (who may become unnecessary commodities).
Teachers and students are certainly not exempt from the
effects of this trend. Freire says, “The widespread
acquiescence by students and their families to the rigors of techno-scientific
training may be explained by the artificial imposition of a new scarcity regime
in the global capitalist system” (14). We fear that we will never find a job
without some techno-scientific training, though the fact that we have such
training will bear little upon circumstances if there is no actual need for it.
Carbone argues “that computer literacy (and by
extension educational technology) does not prepare people for potent,
intellectual work, and even if it did, such work will be a rare commodity in
tomorrow’s labor market” (22).
Even
within the university system, there remains the concern that “the marriage of
corporate culture, higher education, and the new high-speed technologies also
offers universities big opportunities to cut back on maintenance expenses,
eliminate entire buildings such as libraries and classrooms, and trim labor
costs” (Giroux 179). If the corporatization of
education renders entire physical structures expendable, what does that entail
for faculty members? They, too, function under the assumption that they could
be replaced at any moment, and therefore must behave in such a way that the
delicate balance of things will not be disturbed. “The movement to rationalize
and control the act of teaching and the content and evaluation of the
curriculum is very real,” especially when we take note of the popular movement
toward distance learning in universities, a movement which may be considered a
threat by many educators (Darder 448). The lucrative
on-line learning market relies heavily upon “standardized, pre-packaged curricula
and methodological efficiency” and serves to reinforce the current trend
towards “training, de-skilling, and de-professionalization” (Giroux 178). This trend bears upon
both students and faculty and signifies a
shift in the educational paradigm.
According
to Carbone, “Any definition of teaching which
precludes reflective and flexible practice seriously deskills teachers and
undermines professional autonomy” while also transforming and homogenizing the
classroom environment (18). Apple fears that professors and teachers alike
might “become isolated executors of someone else’s plans, procedures, and
evaluative mechanisms” and thus totally alienated from themselves, their work,
and their students (Darder 448). Carbone
sees this as directly and negatively affecting women, in particular. He argues
that “the historically marginal and feminized profession of teaching and
American education’s strong links to dominant social and economic agendas…would
point toward teaching becoming one of the deskilled professions” (18). This
correlates to Apple’s premonition of the “feminization of poverty” (Darder 445).
Computer
technology thus far, has seemed to empower the few (privileged white males) at
the expense of the many (a conglomeration of minority sectors—female, black,
working-class citizens, who have already been disenfranchised to one degree or
another). The notion of expense (both
literally and symbolically) emerges as Apple’s primary concern. He deliberates
over what sacrifices will need to be made in order to incorporate technologies
into schools, where the funding might be found, particularly in already
disadvantaged and underprivileged sectors. He claims that “given the expense of
microcomputers and software in schools, the pressure to introduce such technology
may increase the already wide social imbalances that now exist” in our society
(450). Conversely, Freire has faith in “the enormous
potential for technology to motivate and challenge children and adolescents of
the less-favored classes” (82). But how might we ensure that technology serve
as a source of motivation and not a
source of oppression for these less-favored classes? Apple contends that the
increased emphasis on technological knowledge and ‘computer skills’ has
disqualified “entire segments of a population from jobs, resources and power”
and will eventually “condemn many people to even greater economic
disenfranchisement” (Darder 451-2). He bases this
conclusion on studies which have demonstrated race, class, and gender bias in
the use and implementation of technological programs in schools. “In
middle-class schools, for example, the number of computers is considerably more
than in working-class or inner-city schools populated by children of color. The
ratio of computers to children is also much higher” (Darder
452). To compound these issues, studies have also shown that while many mid- to
upper-class white boys use computers for programming, the majority of females
and working-class non-whites “were more apt to use them for drill and practice in
mathematics and reading, and for ‘vocational’ work” (453). If this is the case,
is technology actually revolutionizing society in any substantive way? Or is it
serving instead to maintain the status quo?
It seems to be that technological integration has thus far served to replicate and perpetuate the structure
of our economy and social classes. This may be explained by the fact that the
control and distribution of technology belongs to a privileged elite of
corporate businessmen, intent on the promulgation of their own wealth. The
unequal distribution of technological opportunity, evidenced by the
aforementioned studies, signifies “a ratification
of class divisions” (453, italics added).
It seems perhaps even more significant
to note that the scientific rationality promoted by technology “represents
a closed system of thought, dealing primarily in the realms of what can be
quantified, measured, and observed, recognizing explicit forms of knowledge and
privileging the production of measurable data. In turn, the characteristics of
both efficiency and effectiveness are redefined” (Carbone
19). The influence of this trend can be seen in many modern classrooms. Apple
argues that the new technology “embodies a form of thinking that orients a
person to approach the world in a particular way. Computers involve ways of
thinking that are primarily technical. The more the new technology transforms
the classroom in its own image, the more a technical logic will replace
critical political and ethical understanding” (Darder
454). Our schools become preoccupied with the successful manufacture of
students who are efficient and productive, neglecting any pedagogical agenda
oriented toward educating critically
conscious citizens.
Therefore, “the cost accounting principles of efficiency, calculability, predictability, and control of the corporate order” have effectively transformed and “restructured the meaning and purpose of education” (Giroux 174). We have come to favor technical and instrumental goals over ethical and political concerns “to the detriment of classroom control by teachers, and to the advantage of standardization and rationalization of course materials” (Giroux 180). If we are to recapture the democratic essence of education, we must first acknowledge the reality of material conditions in our world. We must not be so charmed by the fast-pace and glitter of technology that we are unable to see beyond its initial appeal. If we do not strive to shape the use of technology with “ethical considerations, collective dialogue, and dialogical approaches,” we destroy the potential we have ascribed to technological progress, particularly as a compliment to education (Giroux 180). If we call upon our capacity for critical curiosity, we will plainly see that technology is, by no means, a substitute for pedagogy, and that we should never be satisfied by such a simplistic paradigm.◦
© Kim Reilly, 2006
References
Carbone, Michael J., “Are Educational
Technology and School Restructuring Appropriate Partners?” Teacher Education Quarterly, Spring 1995.
<www.teqjournal.org>.
Darder, Antonia. The Critical Pedagogy Reader. New York: RoutledgeFalmer, 2003. pp. 440-458.
Freire, Paolo. Pedagogy of Freedom. New York: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc, 1998.
Giroux, Henry A. The Abandoned Generation. New York: Palgrave
Macmillan, 2003.
Note