Amish, Astronauts and the Arrow of Time

It has been my privilege during the course of my life, to witness some of the greatest scientific and technological achievements ever.  Two of these stand out in my memory, not only because of their significance, but also because of the context in which I witnessed them.  Both, oddly enough, involved the Amish; at least in my mind's eye.

On July 20, 1969, my sister and I decided to take a drive.  We lived in a small suburb just outside of Philadelphia.  My sister had recently gotten a car and was anxious to try it out on a day trip.  We drove west, visiting Chrystal Caves in Berks County.  We then headed south, through Lancaster County.

I was fascinated as we drove along country roads, passing horse and buggies and watching the farmers pull their wagons with mules.  Where I grew up, there were no farms, let alone horse and buggies.  As we drove along, my sister and I listened to the radio.  All that was on that day was news about Apollo 11 and the astronauts as they prepared to land on the moon.  The dichotomy between what I was seeing and what I was hearing was striking.  Both were alien to the world I knew.

My next vivid memory also involved astronauts and Amish farmers.  It occurred almost 29 years later in 1998.  I had just recently moved to Lancaster with my wife and two kids.  My son and daughter, who were twins, were six at the time.  We had just moved into a two story colonial and the back of our house looked out on a field belonging to an Amish farmer who lived nearby.

It was Friday evening in early March.  My daughter sat on my lap as we both looked at our Mac located in the second floor study.  We were watching a live stream of the second Millenium Evening hosted at the White House.  The featured speaker for the evening was Stephen Hawkins.  As we watched, I explained that Dr. Hawkins was a very smart scientists who had a severe disability.  None-the-less, his brilliance was unbridled.  My daughter, not particularly interested in physics at the time, was fascinated by Dr. Hawkins' ability to overcome his handicap.

At the end of the presentation, the audience members, including those watching on the Internet, were invited to submit questions.  Suddenly, the picture changed and we were viewing the astronauts in the International Space Station who told Hawkins how much they admired his work.  My daughter, of course, took this all in stride.  I looked out my window and was amazed.

So what does this have to do with Education or the Arrow of Time?

In his best seller, A Short History of Time, Stephen Hawkins, discusses the Arrow(s) of Time (there are three of them).  Together the Cosmological, Psychological and Thermodynamic Arrows of Time all point in the same direction, thank heavens, defining the past, present and future.  As time progresses, according to Hawkins, there is a gradual evolution from a state of order to a state of increased disorder (entropy).  Thus, one might say that progress equates to achieving a higher state of disorder.

So, other than making us a bit uncomfortable, what does any of this have to do with education, or for that matter, the Amish?

A lot!

When one thinks back over time, specifically considering the evolution of knowledge and learning, the influence of the Arrows of Time is very apparent.  Certainly, one of the hallmarks of civilization and progress was the invention of the printing press in 1440.  Yet, this wonderful invention was not embraced as a great achievement, but as a threat to the order of things.  Prior to this, the written word was primarily produced and disseminated by the church.  The knowledge that it contained was mainly available to the elite ruling class.  The printing press threatened to make the written word available to everyone.  It was  anticipated that chaos would ensue and one might contend that it did.   Suddenly there were all sorts of new ideas flying around.

Although the printing press greatly democratized publishing, the literature that became readily available was still accessible mainly to the wealthy, educated class.  Then in 1635, the first public school opened in Boston.  Benjamin Franklin, Samuel Adams and John Hancock attended. Few would question the impact that educating them had on the order of things.

Today, rapid advances in science and technology, along with subsequent advances in knowledge and expertise, seem to threaten once again our sense of order and stability.  The Amish (remember the Amish?) attempt to stave off the disorder by limiting travel and clinging to antiquated practices.  Yet, the Arrows of Time persist.

As educators, how do we deal with the growing disorder inherent to progress?  How do we teach in a world where information overwhelms us on a daily basis and our voices are drowned out by the cacophony of noise coming from the social media?  How do we respond when we are asked to bring order to a world that is driven towards disorder?  Do we, like the Amish, become restrictive and confining? Or, do we embrace the energy generated by the Arrows of Time and teach our students to thrive in the uncertainty and disorder that progress demands?

The Laws of Disruption

In his book The Laws of Disruption, Larry Downes states that "technology changes exponentially, but social, economic, and legal systems change incrementally."  This phenomenon has led to legal battles over copyright, patents, privacy etc.

If social, economic and legal systems change incrementally, educational systems evolve glacially.  This is not surprising.  After all, one of the primary functions of education is to preserve the knowledge, traditions and culture of society.  It is true, as astronaut Christa McAuliffe  proclaimed, teachers  "touch the future."  Yet, most of their work involves the past.

I remember reading once that schools teach only one subject...history.  Schools teach the history of mathematics, the history of literature, the history of science and so forth.  On reflection, this is a pretty valid observation.  In science and math, we ask our students to prove that which has already been proven.  We ask them to discover that which has already been discovered and we ask them to learn, that which is already known.

This is not a criticism.  This is what schools were created to do.  But at a time when most of the information in the world can be carried in your pocket; at a time when science is capable of manipulating the most fundamental aspects of nature and life; at a time when broadband and wireless networks triumph over time and space, can schools continue to function this way?

In 2008, Clayton Christensen wrote Disrupting Class.  It quickly became a must read for educators and Christensen and his co-author Michael Horn became much sought after speakers on the national educational conference circuit.  The book stirred an important discussion among educators, although a rather narrow one to my way of thinking.

It is my hope that Disruptive Reflections will expand the conversation on how schools can leverage disruptive innovations to prepare our students for a world that moves at the speed of light, a world that faces daunting problems and endless possibilities.  This blog will look at advances in science, engineering, business and technology and relate them to the changing needs of our students.

Join me in this conversation.  Look for new posts weekly.