The concept of authority is pretty closely tied up with that of expertise. To teach people to “question authority” is to wield too wide of a brush because it readily melts down into questioning legitimate expertise as well. The resulting anti-authoritarian spirit can easily partially fuel precisely the anti-intellectualism and anti-scientificism that we wish to fight in critical thinking (and all) classes. This is why I find it at least a little strange that some of the most scientific-minded people I know would be caught dead saying things like this.

It’s not that I don’t understand what the “question authority”-ers are getting at. “Question authority” after all doesn’t necessarily mean “reject authority.” They just want students, and people, to be able to see burdens for justification, demand reasons, evaluate them, consider whether it is reasonable to comply with the (un)justified demands of others or the government, and so on. These are valuable skills, no doubt.

But developing this suite of critical thinking abilities is *so* much more complicated than “question authority” even begins to capture. Indeed, a robust disposition to “question authority” may on balance be detrimental to the welfare of many individuals. Not all but plenty of authorities are worth respecting, because they are correct and/or because to do so is of prudential value. Advocates of generally questioning authority seem to take for granted that they already possess the intellectual and/or cultural capital required to know when it is appropriate ultimately to reject authority, and when it isn’t. Recognizing legitimate authority or expertise is a skill that takes development over time, and it becomes integrated into our other faculties of judgment, so it may go unnoticed and underappreciated. But lots of people have not developed this skill, and to emphasize the “question authority” bit without also deliberately tackling the “respect authority” bit is lopsided, misleading, and maladaptive. Those of us who have been enculturated to respect authority may need to compensate with a “question authority”-type mindset. But those of us who have been enculturated to distrust even legitimate experts may need to be deliberately taught how to identify them, and not to further “question authority” indiscriminately.

Want to become an authority-questioning maverick? Sure, go ahead. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you end up killing yourself, your kid or someone else’s, or when you land yourself on the school-to-prison pipeline. What “think critically” lacks in sloganly sexiness, it makes up for in non-misleadingness.

When value-added models were first conceived, even their most ardent supporters cautioned about their use [Sanders 1995, abstract]. They were a new tool that allowed us to make sense of mountains of data, using mathematics in the same way it was used to understand the growth of crops or the effects of a drug. But that tool was based on a statistical model, and inferences about individual teachers might not be valid, either because of faulty assumptions or because of normal (and expected) variation.

Such cautions were qualified, however, and one can see the roots of the modern embrace of VAMs in two juxtaposed quotes from William Sanders, the father of the value-added movement, which appeared in an article in Teacher Magazine in the year 2000. The article’s author reiterates the familiar cautions about VAMs, yet in the next paragraph seems to forget them:

Sanders has always said that scores for individual teachers should not be released publicly. “That would be totally inappropriate,” he says. “This is about trying to improve our schools, not embarrassing teachers. If their scores were made available, it would create chaos because most parents would be trying to get their kids into the same classroom.”

Still, Sanders says, it’s critical that ineffective teachers be identified. “The evidence is overwhelming,” he says, “that if any child catches two very weak teachers in a row, unless there is a major intervention, that kid never recovers from it. And that’s something that as a society we can’t ignore” [Hill 2000].

(As you may be aware, a similar argument is sometimes made about charter schools, which were apparently intended to reform, and not replace, ordinary public schools).

So here’s the thing. I really don’t know what to make of value-added models, which have received alot of attention in the mainstream media ever since this hoopla in Los Angeles. I lack familiarity with statistics, and have read deeply conflicting accounts of their accuracy and meaningfulness in making education policy decisions both with regards to schools and individual teachers.

HOWEVER. Ask J. Robert Oppenheimer — just because you develop something doesn’t mean that you retain authority over its usage for all time, nor would that be desirable. What matters is how that technology can be used, and how it should be used, for independent moral, political, and practical reasons. Sanders, “the father of the value-added movement,” in the quote above makes substantive claims about how teachers ought to be treated, and about the ill effects of using VAMs in a particular way. But those are entirely separable from the statistical technique itself, and do not follow from it.

If value-added models, or charter schools, can in fact be used to improve education and, all other things considered, make sense to adopt, then to hell with their inventors’ intent. That is all.

Anyway, I hadn’t donated blood in over six months so I finally went. And there’s something that really bothers me about the United Blood Services center that I visit: they really overemphasize all of these stupid rewards programs for frequent donors. It’s tacky as hell, and somehow a little insulting. No, I don’t want to fill out a slip that will enter me in a sweepstakes to win a car. No, I don’t want to log in online and trade my points for prizes. Just to top off the juvenile atmosphere, they have a popcorn machine in the center, and so the whole place smells like a carnival. (I used to give blood at a Red Cross center, and don’t remember it being like this, but I see that even they have introduced an elaborate racing-themed incentive system).

Obviously, the point of these programs is to offers donors some material benefits (or the chance of winning them), above and beyond any intrinsic satisfaction a person might receive from giving blood. I’d be surprised if the programs worked very well, but who knows? People are funny. Just as I was contemptuously eyeing the popcorn machine, a middle aged lady ran in and excitedly started scooping some out for a pre-donation snack.

And donors have to settle for the stupid incentives or nothing, because most blood donations in the U.S. cannot be compensated in cash, by law (I think only some plasma donations are paid). But actually, I’d rather receive nothing but a post-donation snack rather than be subjected to the incentives. They just make me feel like I’m back in elementary school, being baited with junky plastic toys to sell more overpriced wallpaper to my neighbors in some dumb fundraiser.

So, my blood donation preference ordering:

1. Paid donation: This is number 1 not so much because I want or need the money, but because there is a strong moral case to be made in favor of paid blood donation. Unlike most organ donations, blood donations do not cost the donor much in terms of time, sacrifice and health/safety. As such, it is not possible for donors to be badly exploited. And there is good reason to think that blood would be available in greater supply if donors were paid, even minimally. This is of moral significance, because blood saves lives. And a payment, even a small one, signals respect for donors.
2. Totally uncompensated donation: Hey, at least you get to feel purely altruistic. Sometimes you get a “I gave blood” sticker, so that other people will see how virtuous you are.
3. Incentive systems: Arguably and at least in my opinion, these do not show respect for donors. They probably don’t encourage anyone new to donate, and they are somewhat insulting to those who would have given to begin with. Give us something actually of value to everyone ($, however little) or just don’t even go there.

Of course, my mind immediately snapped to Teachers’ Appreciation Day/Week, which is coming up soon, actually. Would the Facebook friend be as quick to reject that holiday, on the grounds that teachers are also merely doing their jobs? Fully expecting to get flamed, I made a comment to this effect on the Facebook thread. Oh no, she replied, teachers deserve the extra recognition because they are so badly underappreciated, underpaid, and they “make us who we are today.”

Well this is where I almost spat my drink at my monitor. I have no doubt that these sentiments are very, very widely held. But they are unjustified, or at least are very hasty generalizations. Contrary to popular belief, teachers on the whole are not in fact paid badly at all. The Cato Institute has done research in this area; see especially this report and this post. And teachers do “make us who we are today” — but “who we are today” is unfortunately a population whose members often don’t read, write, or do math sufficiently well even to carry out basic life activities, and “who we are today” is a country that spends more on education than ever before — with no apparent payoff, except to teachers and other bureaucrats.

And, just on a personal note,  I think I’d rather be the person who I would have been in the absence of about 1/3 of the teachers I had in K-12. Surprisingly many of them were not only incompetent, but petty, power-hungry, and even vindictive. I remain angry and bitter about those damaging years, and it’s part of why I’m so interested in education now (Maybe I’ll write a whole post on my anger and bitterness another time). But, because it was a wealthy area, most of the students did just fine academically — despite these bad teachers, not because of them. And, every year, the parents were coughing up expensive gifts and gift certificates for the poor, underappreciated teachers. I reckon that many of the teachers who truly deserve some extra appreciation — those who work with severely underprivileged students, those whose schools are unsafe, those who don’t make a decent living — are those who are, sadly, the least likely to receive it, holiday or not.

So I don’t know what to make of this situation. Obviously, I’m not a big fan of Teachers’ Appreciation Day (in fact, it makes me stabby). But, then, are both Administrative Professionals’ Day and Teachers’ Appreciation Day unjustified? Or is there some important difference between the two professions that I’m overlooking? The intentions are probably good — to draw attention and recognition to female-gendered, often marginalized lines of work. But perhaps these holidays are now past their prime. If you know an administrative professional or a teacher who is genuinely exceptional, you should thank him or her on your own time and on your own way. To suggest that all of these professionals are worthy of recognition and rewards just for existing is not fair to the ones who truly are.

You know that song “Santa Clause is Coming to Town?” It contains the lyric: “so be good for goodness sake.” But this is clearly inconsistent with the content of the song, and it drives me crazy.

Being good for goodness’ sake means that you should be good because it has intrinsic value for you, or value not as a means to any other end. But the song is all about how Santa is watching you, and how you won’t get presents if you are bad. This suggests that being good has merely extrinsic or instrumental value, value as a means to some end (the presents).

So, Christmas carolers, if you want to teach your kids that being good has intrinsic value, UR DOIN IT WRONG.

And to all a good night.

People who steal soda from dining establishments where you dispense your own MAKE ME STABBY. Every week I sit in Chipotle and monitor whether people are doing that, and I give any perpetrators the evil eye. A free cup for water is not an invitation for you to steal a beverage that you did not purchase, even though it is only worth a few cents and even if you think your food was too expensive.

Is my moral frustration with these people unwarranted? Does this behavior make you stabby, too? Have you ever done this yourself? If so, what were you thinking?!?!