Of course, it's a bit ironic that one would publish written work in a popular online forum to complain about the influence of the internet on community. The tension is heightened by the Bruderhof's decision last December to delete their large, popular, resource-rich websites and leave up only contact information. Bring Back Bruderhof directs us to Plough Publishing for copies of the free e-books that were listed on Bruderhof.org, if you're interested in checking it out- I particularly recall appreciating Jane Tyson Clement's book of poetry.
This is all rather off track- my point is just that the Bruderhof in general and Arnold in particular hold an odd relationship with the internet already.
I'm not sure that Arnold has read Neil Postman (or maybe Malcolm Muggeridge), but my inner sociologist is quite the pessimist and inclined to agree with Arnold's overall thesis.
Technology is our Achilles heel, which in the end will be worse than any weapon of mass destruction. It will destroy us from within. This frightening trend can only be reversed if more and more citizens listen to their consciences and say, "Enough is enough." Technology puts the "I" in the center and ignores the fact that life is only worth living if "I" depend on my neighbor.
The classics were once an integral part of education. Just about every student read writers such as Aristotle, Novalis, Shakespeare and Dickens. Now, in schools in which every child has access to a computer, children are not even being taught the basic skills of life, such as how to express their thoughts and feelings in writing.
But, but, but... he's personifying technology, and this also makes my inner sociologist squeamish. "Technology" does not put anything anywhere- technology is not an active, willful force. Powerful, yes. Exerting power beyond human control- most techno-shamans would not even go that far. Even thinking of technological progress as an addiction is problematic for those of us with a free-will fetish.
Furthermore, my snooty opinion as someone with one year of experience as an educator is that the definition of the classics ought to be expanded far beyond "Aristotle, Novalis, Shakespeare and Dickens." This is where most of my disagreeable energy is directed toward Arnold, even though I feel like I ought to be more clearly (and cogently) disagreeable about his other ideas. What about the Bhagavad Gita, or Three Kingdoms, or The Brothers Karamazov, or Njal's Saga, or Rumi and Hafiz, or Don Quixote? Not that those books belong together, exactly, but they are all classics that I would want any children under my teaching to read.
Nothing against Aristotle, of course. It just infuriates me that people will take the time and trouble to educate their own kids (which I support fully, if the parents have the time and energy for the task) and then only feed them a small selection of Western classics. It's like going to Ryan's Steakhouse, just for the garlic mashed potatoes.
Someone else can comment on the community issue- I intend to storm about and enjoy my own prideful sense that I'm the only one who properly understands teaching literature, even though I have absolutely no education on the subject. Homegrown minds, and whatnot. Here's a query for you: how do you see technology intersecting with community in your own life? How is it helpful, and how is it harmful?
If you want something to get your mental juices flowing, read this post by Lance Mannion. It's what I would write if I knew how to write like that.
2 comments:
Hmmm... many things come to mind. First, I didn't realize I'd hit on a sore subject: I just thought that, in contrast to the conversations and connections that have been made on the web between Pieces of Flair, the Pizza King Watch, Clandestiny and myself, that it was interesting to find an article about the distintegration of community. Second, the transition to education is also interesting. As an educator, I can certainly say that there is no shared text that I can assume my students are familiar with; names, maybe, but sometimes not even that (e.g., Cervantes, no, but maybe Don Quixote).
I also find it ironic--and perhaps something the article, as well as Lance's post, were pointing to--that Clandestiny was writing this original post while I sat two chairs down.
But I spent most of the weekend dancing barefoot in different community centers in Ohio---the feeling of wood on the soles of my feet, listening to acoustic music played by live performers, holding the hands and looking into the eyes of many different people. I found out about this event on the web, and can keep in contact with those people (who traveled from as far away as Southern California) through e-mail. I don't think that a real community can be established online, but I think the internet can both help people make connections and stay in touch.
I'm not sure how education fits in; I think that technology has the potential to help us to rise above the provincialism that continues to settle in (even in supposedly non-Provincial places such as NYC and LA), but I keep coming back to the idea of a shared text that can serve as an anchor; if nothing else, this is what the canon is supposed to do. I'll have to think about this some more; I'm not sure I'm on the right track here.
Your ideas about shared texts and canon remind me of why I appreciate Bible studies so much. It's not so much that my personal faith can't grow if I don't know a story about Ehud, but that our communal faith needs expression in a shared story if we are to grow together. Bible studies, at their best, foster that sense of sharedness.
I have to think about the rest of your comments more.
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