Persephone Arbour

The word “education”, like “democracy” and “freedom”, is an idea. Like democracy and freedom, we cannot bestow it  on anyone — no matter how hard we try. We cannot “teach” anything. We can only issue an invitation to learn. In fact, teaching is arguably  counter-productive. It creates resistance. It stifles learning. It hammers square pegs into round holes.

It’s even used as a threat. “I’ll teach you!”

Education is a concept; it has no form. It is nowhere manifest. Learning, on the other hand, is observable everywhere. We learn constantly and watch others learning. In fact, we are fascinated by learning and watch mice, chimps and other assorted creatures doing it.

No one knows how to teach — not even what to teach. We can only create an environment which encourages curiosity and exploration — an environment where pupils learn how to learn [hopefully, with a tiny bit of enlightened guidance]. Given the opportunity, we devour learning. It can be a joy.

In the 19th and early 20th century, pupils were taught enough numeracy and literacy to be able to count the number of boxes in a warehouse and write down the result. We have moved on; now we teach them how to pass an exam [and stack supermarket shelves].

Michel Thomas, an unusually gifted language expert, conducted a class in a Brixton comprehensive. The class was televised. He had eight pupils in the class. He told their teachers that, after two weeks of tutoring, they would all pass a GCSE in French. The teachers were sceptical. The pupils had no French.

First, Michel Thomas had all school furniture removed and replaced  with comfortable seating in a semicircle — no desks. Large potted plants were added. He then established the rules — no homework, written work or memorising!

The process then became one of experiencing and succeeding. There were no agendas, no judgements — no right or wrong. No stress. No anxiety. There was just the doing of it.

To the surprise and delight of their teachers, all eight passed the GCSE after two weeks of classes with Michel Thomas.

Do we dare take the furniture out of the classroom?