Abstract
In this short work, Bayer pursues a common end among educational philosophers of uniting moral philosophy to the process of education. For Bayer, this intersection is found in the concepts of paideia, “a difficult term to define, as it comprehends in its meaning education not only in the sense of acquiring knowledge but in the further sense of acquiring culture and tradition” (p. 124), and bildung, the German word for the formation of the whole person. Together, these concepts direct moral education toward the development of a self-determined or autonomous individual. Yet, morality always has a cultural context. Here, Bayer combines Italian humanism and German idealism, peppering it with Greco-Roman classicism, medieval scholasticism, and the pragmatism of John Dewey to form the cultural backdrop of education. If this sounds ambitious, it is; yet Bayer’s book works to form a vision of education that reflects a distinctly broad-minded liberalism.
Uniquely, much of Bayer’s argument focuses on the thought of Giambattista Vico and Ernst Cassier—two thinkers whose work is not generally standard fare among philosophers of education. From Vico, we learn that “philosophy should make the virtues understood in their idea” and thus, “the recovered maxims of the philosophers concerning virtue are of use only when employed by a good eloquence for kindling the feelings to do the duties of virtue” (p. 107). Consequently, moral education must focus on rhetoric and memory as a means of promoting language and critical thought, with its goal the development of civic wisdom. Accordingly, subjects such as history, literature, art, and the law become paramount. From Cassier, particularly his An Essay on Man, harmony and liberation are found in the artistic works or cultural symbols which human beings create. The essence of the individual is written into the forms of human culture. Thus, only through the study of a culture’s symbolic forms will the individual understand the self and their organic relation to others.
In the book’s treatment of morality, Bayer tries to unite the traditions of duty ethics, consequentialism (via pragmatism), and virtue acquisition into a unified vision of moral education. Bayer starts with Kantian deontology, ties this quickly to cultural forms and symbolic examples provided by myth and artistic work, and weds these to the social psychology and educational process of cultivating habits found in John Dewey. Habits, as principles of action, do not need to consider their basis in moral rules (at least initially) or generally good social consequences they invoke. Rather, they make possible future creative acts, including moral actions, through the development of skills which render the person a functioning member of the community. Bayer’s value-laden view of culture is similar to Tillich’s maxim, “religion [belief] is the substance of culture, culture is a form of religion” (The Essential Tillich, University of Chicago, 1987). Similarly, her view of virtue acquisition is reminiscent of Aristotle: “the virtues on the other hand we acquire by first having actually practiced them, just as we do the arts… we become just by doing just acts, temperate by doing temperate acts, brave by doing brave acts” (Nicomachean Ethics, 1103a–1103b).
The book is well-written but dense. Much is packed into its pages, and Bayer demonstrates both mastery of the subject and eloquence in presentation. Yet, I was left with two concerns. First, for readers of this journal, there is nothing distinctively Christian in its argument. Almost none of the sources from which the book draws is Christian, and its emphasis is more enlightenment than evangelical. Second, academic philosophers may find the arguments compelling, but the book seems to require that level of sophistication to be appreciated. This left me asking, who is Bayer’s intended audience? Most educators, even those with graduate degrees, would find its educational injunctions difficult to extract, if not apprehend. Those most capable of grasping the arguments, I suspect, are generally removed from the process of training practitioners, constructing curriculum, or teaching in K–12 classrooms. Both these criticisms are unfortunate, since the work has much to offer. In a society where education generally equates a good person with a good worker, or casts human beings as simply immanent in nature (e.g. 21st Century Skills or brain-based learning), Bayer’s book asserts a transcendent quality to human nature. If there is anything uniquely Christian in its argument, this may well be it.