Abstract
Studies of the rise of social science research in education typically focus on the Progressive Era, from 1890 to 1930, the period in which the American Educational Research Association (AERA) was founded. As central as this story is to the intellectual history of education as a field, however, it obscures an earlier set of events that arguably is even more important to understanding why AERA and the larger progressive education research enterprise of which it was a part developed when and how they did. That episode was the major but ultimately failed effort of the 1870s and 1880s to establish a national education system in the United States. This chapter focuses on the use of social science research in this earlier episode of education reform. It reveals how the rise of education research during the Progressive Era, and ultimately the founding of AERA, responded to the failure of this earlier effort in multiple ways. More precisely, it shows how social science research in education developed historically in relation to the peculiarly decentralized and racialized structure of education authority and policy in the United States.
Studies of the rise of social science research in education typically focus on the Progressive Era, from 1890 to 1930. Whether understood intellectually, as the product of university-based investigations in the emerging field of psychology circa 1890, or institutionally, as the product of school-based efforts to systematically survey and administer growing school systems and student populations in the early 1900s, the roots of social science research in education are generally identified as belonging to the larger Progressive Era project of using science and education to direct social change (Lagemann, 2000; Kimball, 1992). More specifically, scholars have traced the origins of the American Educational Research Association (AERA) to a temporary convergence of interest between school-based administrators and university-based researchers in the 1910s and 1920s (Mershon & Schlossman, 2008). Building on the already widespread city and state school survey movement, as well as on the developing field of psychological testing and diagnosis, a group of school-based researchers in the Department of Superintendence of the National Education Association (NEA) founded the National Association of Directors of Educational Research in 1916. Expanding in the 1920s to more fully embrace university-based researchers and reflect the concurrent growth and development of university-based schools and colleges of education, the organization was renamed twice, becoming the AERA in 1928, at the close of the Progressive Era.
As central as this story is to the intellectual history of education as a field and to the institutional history of AERA as an organization, however, it obscures an earlier episode in the history of education reform and the politics of knowledge in the United States that arguably is even more important to understanding why AERA and the larger progressive education research enterprise of which it was a part developed when and how they did. That episode, investigated by an earlier generation of scholars but now largely forgotten by educators and even by educational historians, is the major but ultimately failed effort of the 1870s and 1880s to establish a national education system in the United States. In a formidable campaign that drew on data, analysis, and arguments conceived and prosecuted by leaders of the new and newly self-conscious social sciences, as represented by the American Social Science Association (ASSA) and the NEA, Congress came closer than it has ever come, then or since, to establishing a national system of funding and oversight of schooling throughout the country. A reexamination of this substantial national effort in light of recent scholarship in the history of education reveals how the rise of education research during the Progressive Era responded to the failure of this earlier effort in multiple ways. More precisely, it shows how social science research in education has developed historically in relation to the peculiarly decentralized and racialized structure of educational authority and policy in the United States.
This chapter focuses on the use of social science research in this earlier episode of education reform. Specifically, it revisits Gordon C. Lee’s 1949 policy study The Struggle for Federal Aid, First Phase, published by the Bureau of Publications at Teachers College as part of its formidable series of doctoral research studies, Contributions to Education (No. 957). Conducted under the sponsorship of George S. Counts, with additional guidance from Freeman Butts and “constant interest and support” from “fellow student, Lawrence A. Cremin” (Lee, 1949, p. viii), Lee’s study reviewed and analyzed 20 bills aimed at providing general federal aid for “common schools” introduced in Congress between 1870 and 1890. As indicated by the title of his study, Lee (and perhaps the Teachers College faculty and students with whom he worked) regarded his investigation as a guide to success for a “second phase” of the struggle for federal aid being conducted in his own post–World War II context. Both implicitly and explicitly, Lee framed his historical analysis as an investigation of historical precedents and lessons for this second phase.
Lee (1949) chose the language of his title carefully. Concerned with the politics of education in his own time, he used the language of “federal aid to education” in describing the object of legislation in the 1870s and 1880s, rather than the language of “establishing a national education system.” This distinction was itself political, however. As Lee himself documented, members of Congress who supported such legislation and those who opposed it did so with different visions of its purpose and likely outcomes. Some clearly envisioned the establishment of a national education system as the ultimate and desirable aim of such legislation, and others quite clearly opposed such legislation for fear of just such an outcome. A central point of the present chapter is that the question of whether or how far the United States could or should go in establishing a national education system was open to debate in the 1870s and 1880s as it had never been before and, arguably, has never been since. The commonplace assumptions of the 20th century about the “limits” of federal authority in education were not yet a settled question. Lee’s choice of wording reflected how that question came out by the end of the 1880s, and thus the lessons he wanted his readers to draw for the legislative battles of his own time. But his words also obscured some important dimensions of the earlier debate. Even as Lee completed his study in the spring of 1948, a bill that would have established general federal aid for education was approved by the Senate. Although that particular piece of legislation did not ultimately pass Congress, it was part of an intense and continuous period of congressional activity around the issue of federal aid for education, in the decade or so immediately following World War II, that rivaled the period following the Civil War. This period of intense activity eventually led to the passage of the National Defense Education Act in 1958, as well as, somewhat less directly, the Elementary and Secondary Education Act of 1965 (Urban, 2010). Lee’s study thus provides a powerful pivot point for understanding the larger history of the federal role in education and the rise of social science research.
What follows is a multilayered reassessment of Lee’s (1949) account in light of more recent literature in the history of education, comparative policy history, and social science history. The chapter is organized in five parts: (a) a discussion of the distinctively decentralized structure of U.S. education in comparative historical perspective; (b) a brief history of 19th-century efforts to establish a national education system in the United States, based on Lee’s account; (c) a brief history and a critical analysis of the role of professional associations and social science research in promoting such legislation; (d) a discussion of lessons from this history as articulated by Lee and as reassessed in light of more recent scholarship; and (e) an assessment of the significance of professional associations such as AERA and of social science research in national education policymaking.
The Structure of U.S. Education Authority in Comparative Historical Perspective
A close look at 19th-century efforts to establish a national system of education in the United States yields important insights into the enduringly peculiar political logic of U.S. education reform and the role of social science research in that politics. Such a focus also places the project of nation building at the center of the account in a way that invites comparison with other nations. Comparative history highlights the distinctively decentralized structure of education authority in the United States (Beadie, 2010b, 2016; Caruso, 2010; Lindert, 2004; Miller, 1998; Sabato, 2001). As contrasted with most nations of Europe, Asia, and Latin America, the United States administers virtually every aspect of curriculum policy, accreditation, certification, and hiring at the state and local levels, rather than national. How and why did this decentralized system develop?
Historians of education have described the development of this distinctively decentralized structure in the United States. They have located its roots in the three or four decades before the Civil War, when Northern and Western states first established state school funds, state boards of education, state superintendents of education, state-based systems of taxation for education, and state constitutional provisions in support of schools (Kaestle, 1983; Tyack, James, & Benavot, 1987). Structured from the start to recognize, incorporate, and institutionalize already existing traditions of local school organization and funding, these systems operated with a high degree of local autonomy through the Antebellum Era (Beadie, 2010a).
Beginning in the Progressive Era, the significance of state government in education substantially increased (Steffes, 2012). As scholars working in the tradition of legal history have repeatedly noted (Hutt, 2012; Provasnik, 2006; Richardson, 1994, 1999), a substantial shift in the intervention of state governments in education occurred after 1890. Typified by the spread of compulsory attendance laws and, more importantly, by the determination of courts to enforce such laws, this shift encompassed an increasing willingness on the part of state legislatures, state courts, and state departments of education to assert public power over children and households through the agency of schools, to use state financial leverage to strengthen state supervision of teachers and standardization of curriculum and operations, and to broaden the purview of schools as official state agencies in matters of public health, labor regulation, child welfare, immigration, and “juvenile delinquency” (Steffes, 2012).
By this account, then, public education in the United States developed throughout as a distinctively state-based structure in a federated political system. For the most part, however, this account of the decentralized structure of education in the United States skips over the period from the beginning of the Civil War in 1860 to the rise of progressivism in 1890. As a result, it also skips over a period when education very much was a central focus of national policy in the United States, as a few scholars of congressional political history have noted (Hoffer, 2007; McAfee, 1998). During that period, as Peter Lindert (2004) has documented, systematic national-level investment in mass education increased substantially in many countries, including France, Japan, Germany, and England. Although the precise pattern of system development varied country by country, increases in national-level investment in schooling were generally associated with development of national-level capacity along one or more axes of educational standardization, such as facilities development and inspection, institutional accreditation, teacher certification, curriculum standardization, achievement examination, credentialization, and/or student admission, promotion, and attainment. Congressional leaders in the United States were very conscious of these contemporary developments in other countries and invoked concern about the competitive advantage that such systems conferred on those nations when promoting the development of a national education system in the United States.
Despite the aspirations of some lobbyists and the concerted efforts of some congressional leaders, however, the United States has never developed the kind of centralized national capacity for education funding or standardization that was developed by many other nations during this period. From a certain perspective it can be argued, as I have at length elsewhere (Beadie, in press), that the United States pursued its own distinctively “extragovernmental” model of system development at the national level. The result, however, is best described as a national system of policymaking rather than a national education system in the sense typically implied by that phrase. Even as compared with other federated systems developed during the same period, such as that of Canada, it lacks the infrastructure for effecting basic forms of standardization. And, perhaps more important, it lacks a formal mechanism by which the people who are responsible for schooling at state and local levels can directly influence the formulation of policy at the federal level.
The fact that U.S. efforts to establish a national education system failed at precisely the same time that similar efforts in other nations succeeded is intriguing and provides an important leverage point for analyzing the U.S. case. The failure of the U.S. effort should not be regarded as a foregone conclusion. This was the period, after all, of the Morrill Land Grant Act (1862), which dedicated shares of federal public lands to the support of agricultural and mechanical education in the states. It was the period in which Congress established the National Bureau of Education (1867, discussed further below), and the Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands, commonly known as the Freedmen’s Bureau (1865), which for a brief 5- to 7-year period distributed federal subsidies to designated schools providing basic education to newly freed slaves. More broadly, this was the period of Southern Reconstruction (1867–1877), when Congress together with freedmen in secessionist Southern states established the first state systems of universal common education. It was also the period in which Congress developed a national system of Native American boarding schools (1875–1890), arguably the only truly national education system ever operated in the United States. During the same period (1875–1890), Congress considered multiple constitutional amendments that variously would have forbidden the use of public funds to support religious schools and required states to maintain public schools for all on an equitable, nondiscriminatory basis. In this context, the failure of the United States to establish a national education system despite multiple concerted attempts cannot simply be assumed; it must be examined.
Historians of education have provided major comprehensive accounts of the extent and limits of federal support for freedmen’s schools during Southern Reconstruction (Anderson, 1988; Butchart, 2010; Williams, 2005) and of the development and consequences of the federal system of Native American boarding schools (Adams, 1995; Lomawaima, 1994). For the most part, however, these efforts have been understood as specialized policies focused on particular populations rather than as part of a broader national policy focus on education. A signal exception is Sarah Manekin’s 2009 prizewinning dissertation, Spreading the Empire of Free Education, 1865–1905, which traces connections between specific individuals, organizations, and strategies involved in U.S. education policy from the Reconstruction South to the Native American West, to the National Bureau of Education, and eventually to colonial Puerto Rico. Her study indicates that the grounds for understanding these and other projects as part of a larger national education policy are many and substantial. More recently, Clif Stratton (2016) examines connections among such policies and the content of citizenship education and Americanization in multiple colonial and imperial contexts in his book Education for Empire.
The present chapter examines the ways in which early social science research undergirded the formulation of this larger national project. In the process, it situates the history of education and education research as part of a larger literature in policy history dedicated to uncovering the invisible but nonetheless powerful ways that national social policy has been constructed and prosecuted in the United States, despite its formally decentralized federalist structure. Scholars of the new statism in American history have documented the development of a diffuse model of national governance and policymaking in the United States. This literature, which ranges across a wide array of policy areas, from water rights to welfare, highlights the interactive roles that state governments, universities, and a variety of nongovernmental organizations, including private corporations, allied philanthropists, professional societies, and federated citizen groups, have played in forging policies that are truly national in scope despite the formal weakness of centralized national authority (Baldwin, 2005; Balogh, 2009; Clemens, 1997; Loss, 2012; Novak, 2008).
In particular, the historical sociologist Elisabeth Clemens (1997) has described the rise of “interest group politics” as a historical phenomenon. In her account, the now-familiar practice of organizing politically around specific issues or policy demands was not a timeless characteristic of the American political system but a particular historical innovation that developed after 1890 in critical response to the calcification of the two-party system. Understanding the phenomenon in relation to the rise of bureaucratic administrative authority during the same period, Clemens’s study highlights the roles of various voluntary organizations in putting pressure on the legislative process and administrative structures. Framed as an attempt to understand the relative success of women’s groups, agrarian groups, and labor groups in effecting reforms despite their relative lack of formal political power, Clemens’s formulation explains how some pressure groups proved more successful at certain times than others. For example, in her analysis, the relative success of women’s groups in winning a range of policy measures in the Progressive Era derived precisely from the fact that the absence of formal political power forced them to excel in developing extrapartisan methods of mobilizing public opinion and putting pressure on legislative and administrative systems.
Viewed from the perspective of Clemens’s (1997) analysis, Lee’s (1949) study of the struggle for federal aid to education provides both an example to be studied and a challenge of chronology and conceptualization. Throughout his study, Lee focused his analysis on the political dynamics of popular, professional, political, and press support and opposition for various federal aid measures. As part of his analysis, he discussed many of the very same farmer, labor, and women’s groups that also figure prominently in Clemens’s study. Moreover, Lee’s frame of analysis was precisely that of interest group politics. Repeatedly in his account, Lee noted that the practice of pressure group politics was insufficiently developed in the 1870s and 1880s, effectively implying that this state of nascent development explains the ultimate failure of federal aid legislation in the late 19th century. In many respects, his study reads as a guide to more thorough and complete exercise of such political strategies in the legislative battles ahead.
That Lee should have invoked interest group politics in his 1949 study makes sense given Clemens’s (1997) account. According to Clemens, political scientists first recognized and normalized the phenomenon as a feature of the American political system circa 1950. Published in 1949, Lee’s analysis can be seen as representative of this frame of analysis. At the same time, Lee’s account also challenges the chronology and conceptualization of Clemens’s account in some ways. For starters, it pushes the story of how such politics developed back at least 20 years. It also poses the question of what role professional organizations played in the development of this new politics, a question Clemens does not specifically recognize or address.
In many ways, Lee stood too far inside the logic of interest group politics himself to be able to answer this question. He clearly saw his purpose in 1948 as that of advising professional educators of the role that “public and professional interest” would have to play in his own time for federal aid legislation to be successful in the future. Nonetheless, the evidence that Lee provided suggests that two professional organizations in particular were significant in formulating the arguments, marshaling the supportive data, and mobilizing support for the 19th-century effort to establish a national education system in the United States: the NEA, founded in 1857, and the ASSA, founded in 1865 (Haskell, 1977; Mattingly, 1975).
A Brief History of 19th-Century Efforts to Establish a National Education System
In Lee’s (1949) assessment, the late 19th-century effort to establish federal aid for education could be divided into three main stages. Lee’s account of these stages highlights important shifts in the logic of proposed federal legislation over the period from 1870 to 1890, summarized below. As part of his discussion, Lee also analyzed the levels and sources of “public and professional interest” mobilized in support of, or opposition to, the bills. These assessments are also summarized below.
Stage 1: The Hoar Bill (1870–1871)—Compelling “Delinquent States”
To appreciate the changing logic of federal education legislation, it helps to be aware of the specific context in which the first of the federal education bills was proposed in the House of Representatives. Recall that at the end of the Civil War, in 1865, a central governance issue was the basis on which the secessionist Southern states would regain representation in Congress. Under the terms of the Congressional Reconstruction Act of 1867, Confederate states were essentially treated as federal territories operated under military rule, much like the territories of the West. To regain political representation, secessionist states had to write new constitutions and apply for readmission in a process similar to that followed by new Western states.
By this means, the Reconstruction Congress, Republican leaders, and Southern Black convention delegates together effectively forced the South to accept the normative standard of constitutional provisions for education that had been worked out by states of the West and Midwest before the Civil War. The now nearly universal normative standard included government provision of a system of public schools, fully funded through tax support, nonsectarian in governance and instruction, and open to “all.” By July 1870, all the secessionist states had been readmitted to Congress with new constitutions that included provisions requiring establishment of state systems of universal common education. 1
Once the normative principle of state-based systems of common education had been established in the South, however, Congress still confronted the dual challenge of Southern poverty and White resistance to funding a universal system and ensuring equal access to schooling. The first bill proposing federal funding and oversight of education aimed directly at addressing these problems.
Introduced in the House of Representatives on February 25, 1870, as the last secessionist states were being readmitted to Congress and the funding of the Freedmen’s Bureau was scheduled to run out, the first of these bills was the Hoar Bill, sponsored by George F. Hoar, Republican of Massachusetts.
2
The Hoar Bill essentially sought to enforce the education provisions that had been written into the new Southern constitutions and to establish the kind of educational oversight and support provided by the Freedmen’s Bureau on a more permanent basis. Accordingly, the basic logic of implementation was more stick than carrot. The Hoar Bill would
compel to be done what the States will not do and to do for them what they cannot do. . . . It must provide a good and universal system of common school education in those states which do not provide it . . . [but] only where dominant power refuses to do so by local authority. (Lee, 1949, p. 43)
More precisely, the legislation would enforce common school provisions in “delinquent states,” by making available “under federal auspices” universal instruction in arithmetic, reading, and writing whenever states failed to do so. Such federal provisions would be funded by a combination of taxes on “delinquent” states and sale of public lands.
As analyzed by Lee (1949), the Hoar Bill was noteworthy not only for being the first measure of its kind to receive congressional consideration but also for being the most “drastic” and “extreme” of any of the bills to be considered. According to the bill’s title, its purpose was “to establish a national system of education.” The “extremity” that Lee implicitly critiqued in his account lay in the assertion of federal authority over education that the bill proposed to exercise. Referred to in some quarters as a system of “national compulsory education,” the bill was, in short, an enforcement provision but with the compulsion focused on state governments rather than on individuals.
The language of state “delinquency” that the Hoar Bill used as the basic structure of its proposed system of federal aid for education fit the logic of a nation asserting its authority over territories, which the secessionist states effectively were during the immediate post–Civil War period. It also fit the logic of some theories of American statecraft at the time, which sanctioned the use of federal power when local power failed. The language of state “delinquency” did not fit the traditional logic of sovereign states that underlay U.S. federalism, however. The historical significance of the Hoar Bill lies in what it reveals about the fundamental limits of federalism for effecting a policy based primarily on enforcement of federal authority over the states. In this way, the Hoar Bill also illuminates the problem that subsequent bills tried to solve.
In Lee’s (1949) analysis, these fundamental limits of federalism made the introduction of the Hoar Bill politically frivolous. After due discussion of various responses to the bill, Lee suggested that it received relatively little attention, with much of the attention being negative. Significantly, some of the strongest opposition came from professional educators, led by the NEA, apparently concerned about potential loss of local school autonomy and control. Implying that the proposal was too radical for the time, even among Republicans, Lee portrayed prevailing popular and professional sentiment as favoring (continued) aid for Southern education in the manner of the Freedmen’s Bureau but rejecting general federal authority over education as inimical to republican principles.
Stage 2: The Perce and Burnside Bills (1872–1880)—Distributing Public Benefits
The next major federal education bills discussed by Lee reflected the fundamentally changed reality of a Congress with all the former secessionist states readmitted, albeit some with Republican representatives, both White and Black. Focusing his discussion on the two bills (of a total of 11 proposed) that not only made it to the floor but actually passed in either the Senate or the House in that period, Lee reviewed the terms of the Perce Bill of 1872 and the Burnside Bill of 1879. Both of these bills framed their purpose as that of establishing “an education fund” rather than “a national system of education,” as the earlier Hoar Bill had. In both cases, the fund was to be capitalized through the sale of public lands, the proceeds of which would thereby “forever be consecrated and set apart for the education of the people.”
In taking this approach to school support, the Perce and Burnside Bills drew on a long tradition of state-based systems of education funding, as well as on federal precedents for the allocation of public lands. Since the late 18th century, states from Connecticut to Georgia had used the proceeds from the sale of public lands to capitalize school and literary funds, which then typically were allocated to localities by application and/or on a matching basis. Also since the late 18th century, the federal government had dedicated portions of the public lands it controlled to support schooling in the territories of the West, as well as (later) for agricultural and industrial education in the land grant universities sponsored by the Morrill Act. As much a matter of land policy as school policy, such provisions ostensibly promoted White settlement by conferring public benefits on settler communities, even as they appropriated Native American land to do so. They also provided political cover for the often large-scale transfer of public wealth to private hands through discounted sales to land speculators, timber and mining companies, and railroads.
More important over the long term than the source of funding specified by the Perce and Burnside bills was the shift the bills marked in the basic structural logic of the policy, from one of enforcement to one of incentives. The logic of incentives meant that instead of detailing the conditions under which the federal government could assume control of state common schools, the legislation spelled out the conditions that states had to meet to qualify for a distribution of public benefits. In addition to this shift in logic, the Perce Bill eventually included two amendments representing compromises with respect to the principles on which funds would be distributed. The first compromise was that funds would not be withheld from states with segregated school systems, an arrangement that endured in every subsequent bill considered by Congress. The second compromise was the determination that funds should be distributed according to rates of illiteracy in each state rather than by the total size of the general population or the population of school-age youth. This provision also had a long-lasting impact, becoming a blueprint for subsequent bills. Substantively, it meant that more funding would go where it was most needed. Thus, Alabama, with a high illiteracy rate, would get more funding than Massachusetts, with a low illiteracy rate. Politically, these differential effects would presumably help garner support from Southern states. 3
In Lee’s (1949) analysis, the ultimate significance of the Perce and Burnside bills lay in the compromises they represented. Lee made much of the fact that these and subsequent federal education bills “discarded” the “extreme policies underlying the Hoar bill.” Nonetheless, despite their noncoercive logic and their generous terms of eligibility and distribution for Southern states, the measures of the 1870s failed to mobilize sufficient organized support on the part of citizen or professional groups. Surveying first the activities of agricultural and labor interests as represented in the 1870s by the Grange and the Knights of Labor, Lee concluded that while both organizations formally espoused principles and platforms favoring the advancement of education for their members and constituents, neither organization undertook any organized activity on the part of either piece of legislation. Turning then to the actions of professional educators, Lee noted that from the start, the NEA and U.S. Commissioner of Education John Eaton were among the most vehement promoters of federal aid to common education under the terms of these bills, implying that Eaton together with NEA may have been important in suggesting the basic funding structure of the 1870s legislation. At the same time, Lee also highlighted opposition to any federal aid, not only among Catholic leaders and educators but also among some leaders of the education establishment, especially leaders of private institutions, such as President Charles Eliot of Harvard University, who argued “repeatedly, and with great vehemence,” that any such program of federal subsidies for education “saps the foundations of public liberty” by undermining local responsibility and initiative (Lee, 1949, p. 66).
Stage 3: The Blair Bill (1882–1890)—Eliminating “Deficiencies of the People”
The Blair Bill was in many respects more ambitious and serious than its predecessors, in terms of both the scale of its appropriations and the distribution of its benefits. Labeled “a bill to aid in the establishment and temporary support of common schools,” it provided a substantial influx of federal funding over a 10-year period to ensure the establishment of a solid and comprehensive common school system throughout the country. Thereafter, federal funding would taper off, with the systems presumably sustained primarily by state and local funding.
As compared with previous efforts, the Blair Bill represented a middle ground between a logic of enforcement and a logic of incentives. Like the legislative proposals of the 1870s, the Blair Bill operated through the systematic distribution of public benefits in the form of federal funds. However, the source of the funding was different. Instead of deriving from the sale of public lands, from which income could be slow to accumulate and initially small in amount, the funding would be appropriated directly from the general treasury on an annual basis. As a result, the amount of funding distributed under the Blair Bill was calculated to be more substantial and immediate, and thus to offer a more powerful incentive.
This power, in turn, conferred greater leverage for enforcing certain standards and conditions of schooling. As in the case of the 1870s proposals, states would have to meet certain eligibility criteria to receive funds. Authority to determine eligibility would ultimately lie with the commissioner of education, also as in previous proposals. In the case of the Blair Bill, however, the criteria of eligibility were more extensive and the principles and details of administration were more fully worked out, thereby effectively strengthening the bill’s enforcement powers. In this respect, the Blair Bill embodied a logic of compliance familiar to federal funding provisions in our own time (Kaestle & Lodewick, 2007; Nelson, 2005).
To appreciate the significance of the Blair Bill (and of its ultimate failure), it is essential to know what these eligibility requirements were. A key provision of the bill, highlighted by Lee (1949), was the requirement that each state provide “by law” a “system of free common schools for all of its children of school age, without distinction of race or color.” Specifically, no distinction by race or color should exist in “either the raising or distribution of school revenues or in the school facilities provided.”
This criterion appeared not only as a statement of principle but also as part of the detailed specifications regarding the process of reporting. A second key provision of the bill concerned the issue of reporting. It required that states and territories report not only basic statistics on numbers of schools, school attendance rates, and moneys raised and expended but also evidence of nondiscrimination. Similarly, a separate section of the bill specified that recipient states and territories were to distribute the moneys raised for common school purposes—whether at the local, state, or national level—“equally for the education of all the children, without distinction of race or color.” As noted earlier, these specifications, like those of the 1870s legislation, did not preclude segregation. Indeed, they seem to have assumed it. Nonetheless, with these specifications the authors of the bill endeavored to guarantee a degree of equity in school funding greater than was ever attempted thereafter.
A third provision of the bill, which Lee (1949) enumerated but did not elaborate on, concerned curriculum. Unlike most state legislation at the time, which before the Progressive Era tended to concentrate on structural issues of fund distribution, oversight, and reporting rather than on curriculum (Tyack et al., 1987), the Blair Bill explicitly defined the content of common education that was qualified to receive public funds in the states. 4 The curriculum of schools eligible for public funds was to include “the art of reading, writing, and speaking the English language, arithmetic, geography, the history of the United States, and such other branches of useful knowledge as may be taught under local laws.” These specifications constituted a solid academic curriculum. They went beyond the most rudimentary literacy education to compose what might be considered more broadly an “education for citizenship.”
This provision thus pointedly distinguished the education to be supported by federal funds from a more narrowly “industrial” education. The fact that the proposed legislation did indeed aim at ensuring an academic education for all children within the states is further illuminated by another provision of the bill, which distinguished the type of schooling required for federally subsidized education in the territories from that required in the states. As contrasted with the states, territories were authorized to apply federal funds for support of industrial education as well as for common education.
To appreciate this distinction, it is important to recognize that at the time of the bill’s most serious consideration, in the mid-1880s, the territories of the United States included much of the trans-Mississippi West. The last territory to achieve statehood before the Blair Bill’s introduction was Colorado, in 1876, which thereby joined the western states of California (1849), Oregon (1857), and Nevada (1864). Much of the rest of the West, however, would not achieve statehood until the very end of the period under consideration here, or substantially thereafter. 5
The fact that the Blair Bill so deliberately encompassed education in the territories signals the truly national (rather than simply federal) scope and intention of the legislation. It further begins to suggest how, even as it attended to the unfinished business of Southern Reconstruction, the Blair Bill reached beyond that agenda to address additional issues, including those that Western historian Elliott West (2003) calls “Greater Reconstruction,” or Reconstruction of the Western territories acquired from 1848 forward. Part of that project included the territorial and political integration, or disposition, of the diverse peoples who lived in the West.
Specifically, what the curricular provisions of the Blair Bill indicate is that its authors envisioned Native American education as part of the federally funded system authorized by the bill. The practice of providing industrial education to Native Americans as a means of acculturation and accommodation to European systems of property-based household production dated back at least to the treaty agreements of the 1820s. However limited the implementation and success of these early provisions, the same basic idea effectively became the core curriculum of the federal system of Native American boarding schools developed concurrently with the Blair Bill in the 1880s (Adams, 1995; Lomawaima, 1994).
As elsewhere in his study, Lee focused most of his discussion of the Blair Bill on assessing the support for and opposition to the bill, and thus on political lessons that could be learned for future legislative campaigns. In his assessment, “No previous education legislation had elicited anything remotely comparable to the volume of public demand for congressional action as was stimulated by these proposals during the 1880s” (Lee, 1949, p. 94). Lee based his assertion in part on his analysis of the petitions received by Congress in support of the legislation between 1881 and 1891. Broken down by region, year, and type of petitioner (citizen, state government, educational organization, business group, reform group, religious organization), Lee’s evidence allowed him to make a number of claims about the support that the iterations of the Blair Bill received over time.
With respect to region, Lee reported that “the largest number of citizen petitions was sent from the South,” although his data suggest that Southern citizen action in support of the bill was somewhat stronger at the beginning of the decade, in 1881–1882, than at the end. Meanwhile, citizen action in the North and the Midwest peaked toward the later periods of the bill’s consideration, in 1886–1887 and 1887–1888 (Lee, 1949, pp. 94–95). With regard to organizational petitions, Lee’s data show that a number of state associations of school teachers and administrators were important sources of support, especially in the South. Southern state governments also actively petitioned Congress for the measure, particularly in the early years of the campaign (1882–1883).
With respect to formal organizations of farm, labor, business, reform, and religious groups, Lee (1949) found relatively little evidence of active support, with a few key exceptions. Considering not only the record of petitions received but also the official and formal endorsements of various national organizations, Lee determined, for example, that the Northern and Southern farmers’ alliances of the 1880s, like the Grange of the 1870s, expressed general support for public education, including specific references to the value of “moral, manual and intellectual training that inculcate the essential dignity and necessity of honest labor,” but took no position on the Blair Bill.
Organized labor, by contrast, did take a positive stand in the 1880s. By comparison with its relative silence on the legislation of the 1870s, the Knights of Labor formally memorialized Congress in 1886 that “the cause of education [should] be promoted by passage of the Blair education Bill.” In addition, the Knights of Labor maintained a lobbying organization in Congress throughout the 1880s, which “kept a close watch on the Blair Education Bill.” Similarly, the American Federation of Labor, founded in 1886, took a strong stand in favor of federal aid for education, both specifically in the form of the Blair Bill and more broadly for “universal compulsory education.” Business groups, meanwhile, seem to have taken a more laissez-faire approach to the prospect of federal aid for education; with very few exceptions, they neither actively supported nor opposed such legislation.
Beyond organized labor, another national organization that took an active role in promoting the Blair Bill was the Women’s Christian Temperance Union (WCTU). Founded in 1874, the WCTU became active in the battle for federal aid for education in 1886. According to Lee (1949), from 1886 to 1890, petitions from the national and local headquarters of the WCTU were “constantly placed before Congress.” Among religious organizations, Protestant denominations generally supported the legislation, which included strong antisectarian provisions, while Catholics, accordingly, strongly opposed it, since antisectarian provisions were generally perceived as inimical to Catholic interests.
When it came to organized pressure in support of the Blair Bill, however, by far the most active group was the NEA. According to Lee (1949, p. 97), “Memorials from the National Education Association [in support of the Blair Bill] were continuous until 1890.” Founded in 1857, the NEA from the start oriented its activity toward national policy. An early focus was promoting the establishment of a federal education department, a goal that was at least partly accomplished with the founding of the Bureau of Education in 1867, though without the status as a cabinet-level department that its promoters would have preferred (D. Warren, 1974). Working closely with the commissioner of education once the bureau was established, especially with John Eaton, who served as commissioner from 1870 to 1886, the NEA assumed an important role throughout the 1870s and 1880s in shaping legislative proposals and lobbying members of Congress in support of certain provisions.
In the 1870s, as noted earlier, the NEA strongly supported proposed legislation that would have devoted proceeds from the sale of federal public lands to support common education in the states, a position that the organization reiterated in 1881. By 1882, however, the association had “swung its support to the principle of direct financial assistance” represented by the Blair Bill, sending a strong unequivocal statement to every member of Congress in 1882, the first year the bill was introduced, declaring “that in the opinion of the Association, it is the duty of the Congress of the United States, to make liberal appropriation from the national treasury for the support of the schools in the states” (Lee, 1949, pp. 105–106).
Lee (1949) presents the support of the NEA and that of the ASSA for the Blair Bill as essentially independent of the proposed legislation. From the record of the campaign for the bill collected by Senator Henry W. Blair himself, however, it would seem more accurate to say that the distinct but complementary leadership of the NEA and the ASSA together effectively designed the national campaign in favor of the Blair Bill, from its inception in 1882 through it final demise in 1890. 6
The Role of Professional Associations and Social Science in the Campaign to Pass the Blair Bill
Born of similar impulses but different networks, the NEA and the ASSA were both rooted in the practical work of government. The origins of the NEA lay in the National Teachers Association (NTA), an organization founded in Philadelphia in 1857 by men who were already engaged in the work of cultivating and strengthening the teaching corps for the expanding common school systems of their states through the promotion, development, and administration of normal schools, teachers’ institutes, teacher journals, and associated systems of teacher credentialing. Initially composed of 43 men from 13 states, the organization imagined itself from the start as a translocal professional body that would give leading members of already existing state-level teacher organizations the opportunity to trade professional knowledge, concerns, and ideas with their counterparts in other states—and to help build the capacity for systematic support of such work at the federal level (Wesley, 1957).
Although cosmopolitan by standards of the day, the NTA was far from the only translocal network of “schoolmen” active in the Antebellum Era (Mattingly, 1975). In the decade following the founding of the NTA, however, the disunion of the country paradoxically provided new opportunities for national consolidation of leadership and influence in the field of education, as the secession of Southern states in 1860, their defeat in the Civil War, and their continuing disbarment from Congress for 3 to 5 years following the war, made possible the enactment of several education acts at the federal level that representatives from Southern states had previously opposed, including a proposal to establish a federal department of education to collect and publish education data from the states and territories of the nation. This idea, which by most accounts originated with Henry Barnard and a few other close colleagues in 1837, influenced the first collection of data on education and illiteracy of the national population in the U.S. Census in 1840. Barnard himself continued to advocate for the idea through his work as state superintendent of education, first for Connecticut, then for Rhode Island, and eventually through his founding and editorship of the American Journal of Education, which, beginning in 1855, collected and published education data, legislation, and news from throughout the nation (D. Warren, 1974).
Building on the same wave of thinking as the American Journal of Education and many of the same networks within the states, the NTA focused, from its founding in 1857, on lobbying for a federal department of education. Thus, when Barnard became the first U.S. commissioner of education in 1867, the new department was already in direct communication with the NTA and its members. The establishment and funding of the Department of Education (soon demoted to the status of a bureau within the Department of the Interior) created, in turn, a need for a more fully national body of state-level leaders and policymakers to advise, support, and implement the data collection process. Responding to this new national context, the NTA merged with three other interstate organizations to form the renamed NEA in 1870. In this way, the National Bureau of Education and the NEA were effectively cocreated in the years surrounding the Civil War. Moreover, the development of social science data and knowledge about education and the development of national education policy were at the core of the work of both organizations from the start. Consolidated apparently at the suggestion of John Eaton, the new commissioner of education, in 1870, just as the last secessionist Southern state was readmitted to the Union and the question of whether the Freedmen’s Bureau should be renewed or replaced by some larger national apparatus was being debated in Congress, the NEA purposefully developed itself as a national policy organization. From that point forward, it worked closely with commissioners of education and education-minded members of Congress to provide the intellectual and political manpower for identifying categories and strategies of education policymaking at the national level. 7
The NEA did not fulfill this function alone, however. Even as the lobbying efforts of its parent organization came to fruition in 1867 with the establishment of a federal department of education, Henry Barnard, in his new role as commissioner of education, formally presented his plans for the department at a meeting of the ASSA. Founded in Boston in 1865 by a group of 100 institutional leaders and reformers, the ASSA, like the NTA/NEA, had roots in the practical responsibilities of state-level leaders charged with designing, legislating, and administering the work of state-level institutions and organizations. In the case of the ASSA, however, the institutional locations of its members were different and more various. The early ASSA was organized into four departments representing four main professional domains and branches of government activity, each with its own vice president. The four departments were Jurisprudence, Health, Education, and Finance, the last including subsections on Trade and Social Economy. Reflecting this broad scope, members had diverse institutional affiliations. The core membership and leadership of the organization included directors of the various reformatories, asylums, prisons, orphanages, and institutions for the feeble-minded that had been founded in several states over the previous two or three decades with some combination of philanthropic and state support. Another group of members consisted of doctors and social reformers concerned with issues of urban sanitation, public health, and disease prevention, while a third group consisted of a mix of political economists and businessmen concerned with issues of trade, tariffs, currency, and labor (Haskell, 1977).
Finally, the single largest group of ASSA members, according to the historian Thomas Haskell (1977), consisted of professional educators. As compared with membership of the NTA/NEA, however, the professional educators who constituted the core leadership of the ASSA’s “Education Department” had quite different institutional affiliations. Instead of coming primarily from the leadership of state normal schools and common school systems, as did NTA/NEA members, the professional educators of the ASSA came primarily from the presidencies and professorships of colleges and universities. That the presidents of leading colleges and universities should have concerned themselves with the practical work of government in this way is not strange when one remembers that, at the time, the concluding experience of a BA degree was typically a course in moral philosophy and political economy taught by the college president, which took up just such matters of education, labor, charity, trade, and finance as became the core work of the ASSA. The most common and influential textbooks for such courses in the North by the 1850s, moreover, were those written by Francis Wayland Sr. of Brown University, and carried on by his sons, Francis Wayland Jr. and Heman Lincoln Wayland, after their father’s death in 1865 (the year the ASSA was founded). Francis and Heman were founding members and subsequent presidents of the ASSA. Also important in the early history of the ASSA were presidents of the new “modern” universities emerging in the decade immediately following the Civil War, including Andrew Dickson White of Cornell, William Barton Rogers of MIT, James Angell of the University of Michigan, and Daniel Coit Gilman of Johns Hopkins.
These institutional affiliations, in turn, shaped the types of issues with which the ASSA was most concerned. With early sponsorship from the Massachusetts Board of Charities and other leadership coming from New England colleges and universities, the early ASSA was simultaneously more geographically parochial and more intellectually ambitious than the NEA, seeking to link institutions of learning and networks of college-educated doctors, lawyers, ministers, and educators more directly and powerfully to the work of government. Like the NEA, the ASSA emphasized statistics as one means of making this work more scientific and authoritative and its results more effective. Modeled in part on the British National Association for the Promotion of Social Science, founded in 1857, and informed by ties with leading members of the American Statistical Association, founded in 1839, the ASSA promoted the systematic collection, analysis, and dissemination of data on all aspects of national life, with the aim of influencing legislation to improve economy and society. Beyond this generally positive orientation to the culture of empiricism and the value of science for the practical work of public administration, the ASSA also exhibited a broader, intellectual interest in how far the traditional domains of mental and moral philosophy and political economy might come to parallel those of natural science. This broad intellectual interest directly shaped how the ASSA framed educational issues. At the very first meeting of the ASSA, in October 1865, for example, the one formal paper presented was, according to Haskell (1977, p. 111), a “plea for an inductive science of education.” Strangely enough, the author of the paper, William P. Atkinson, was a professor of English and history at the just-opened Massachusetts Institute of Technology. What he chiefly had in mind was not the future behavioral psychology of G. Stanley Hall (though he did gesture toward the need for a more empirical “science of the mind”), or the basic learning of young children, but a more modern and scientific history for the education of professionals that was grounded not in the rote learning of classical rhetoric but in direct analysis of the evidentiary record of past societies and governments. Such knowledge, he believed, might become a useful and solid training for professional civil service, a notion that he explored 2 years later in a paper titled “Competitive Examinations for the Civil Service” (Haskell, 1977, p. 112). The vision that Atkinson articulated of a professional civil service certified in definite bodies of scientific and historical knowledge and methods of analysis became a central mission for the ASSA in subsequent years and the chief object of its lobbying efforts.
What the ASSA brought to the specific project of federal aid for education in the 1870s and 1880s, then, was something quite different from what the NEA brought to the project, though the interests of the two organizations temporarily dovetailed in what proved to be critical ways. While members of the NTA/NEA were concerned primarily with the explicit objects of the legislation—that is, with the categories and amounts of federal funding that would be allocated for support of common education—the ASSA brought two other somewhat broader concerns and domains of expertise to the business of forging federal education legislation, which, as we will see, would have an important impact on the way the legislation was formulated and promoted rhetorically in Congress and more broadly to the public. The first of these was a body of expertise in what it called “jurisprudence,” but that can more fruitfully be understood as the philosophy of law, or ideas about the proper role of public law in regulating and structuring society. The central thrust and significance of this intellectual domain are reflected in the title of the first formal paper from the Department of Jurisprudence presented to the ASSA in 1867: “The Sphere of Law in Social Reform.” The second distinctive concern that the ASSA brought to the project of promoting federal aid for education was civil service reform. That agenda would be embodied in part by the Pendleton Civil Service Reform Act of 1883, which established a system of civil service examinations for government service, limited the number and types of jobs that could be allocated on the basis of political appointment and patronage, and restricted the direct solicitation of party contributions from government officials. More broadly, however, the idea of civil service reform can be understood as an effort to take the politics out of government administration and establish a more merit-based system of governance, leadership, and policymaking. Although this project would seem to bear only a tangential relationship to that of ensuring universal access to common education, it in fact had a significant and far-reaching influence on the rhetorical logic and long-term impact of the campaign for passage of the Blair Bill in the 1880s.
A close look at the elements of this campaign illuminates the distinct but complementary roles that the NEA and ASSA played in the strategic development and promotion of the Blair Bill. The efforts of the NEA and ASSA focused first, on formulating an argument for the federal aid bill that would overcome frequent objections to the constitutionality of federal involvement in education; second, on marshaling statistical data in support of that argument; and third, on mobilizing support for the bill throughout the nation. Together, these elements of the Blair Bill campaign constituted an essential logic that in many ways continues to shape federal education legislation and the role of social science research in education to this day. Specifically, the Blair Bill campaign reveals how social science data and arguments were used to address the problem of federalism.
In the mid-1880s it seemed possible, even likely, that some version of the Blair Bill would eventually pass. In 1887, in what appears in retrospect as a last-ditch attempt to bring it to fruition, the bill’s chief sponsor, Senator Henry W. Blair of New Hampshire, published a densely packed pamphlet of material including congressional committee reports, departmental studies, speeches, endorsements, transcripts of debates, texts of various versions of the bill, data, and analysis in support of the bill. From this material it is possible to see the role that the new and newly self-conscious social sciences played in the effort to establish a federal role in education in the 1880s (Blair, 1887).
Formulating an Argument
The basic argument in support of a federal role in education that Eaton, Blair, and their compatriots in the NEA and ASSA formulated was that such intervention was necessary for the preservation of the state itself. As Senator Blair stated the point in the Report of the Committee on Education and Labor, submitted in 1886,
Our leading proposition is that the General Government possesses the power and has imposed upon itself the duty of educating the people of the United States whenever for any cause those people are deficient in that degree of education which is essential to the discharge of their duties as citizens [italics added] either of the United States or of the several States wherein they chance to reside. (Blair, 1887, p. 5)
Here we see that a deficiency of the people, rather than a deficiency of the states, provided the foremost justification for federal intervention in education under the terms of the Blair Bill. This move was useful because it provided a logic for confronting and potentially circumventing the claims of state precedence and sovereignty over education that had stymied efforts at establishing a national system of education previously. It did so first by raising the stakes of the debate. A focus on a deficiency of the people made the problem not merely one of enforcing the will or power of the federal government over the states but also one of ensuring the survival of the government itself. A deficiency of the people effectively threatened the very survival of government, or more precisely of self-government, because
government for the people by the people implies that degree of popular intelligence which will enable the masses of men to comprehend the principles and to direct the administration of government in such ways as to promote the general welfare. (Blair, 1887, p. 5)
Second, a focus on the people rather than the states helped address a basic theoretical problem of federalism by shifting the locus of authority away from the nation state and toward the people themselves. Once a deficiency of the people was recognized, the question was who or what was responsible for addressing that deficiency, and under what authority. Again, the answer was “the people.” This emphasis on the role of “the people” in republican government continued throughout the report, with a number of implications. One important dimension of the report’s argument was its appeal to “the people” as the original and ultimate authorizing power for both federal and state governments. In this formulation, neither the state nor the federal government necessarily assumed precedence: Both were essentially responsible to the people, but the “general” government had the authority and even the duty to step in where more local powers failed. Drawing on prewar theories of the state that had been used to justify the use of federal power to prosecute the Civil War, the report cited Daniel Webster and the legal theorist John Bouvier to assert that residents of the several states and territories essentially constituted one body politic, “united together in one community for the defense of their rights.” An essential such right was that of self-defense or self-preservation, including the right to constitute and maintain the state itself.
By this logic of a unitary people, Blair and his Committee on Education and Labor endeavored to confront and ultimately circumvent objections to federal intervention in education in the states. The allocation of certain functions to state government was by this logic itself a decision of the people. It was the people who “distributed the functions of government between the national and the sectional or the State authorities.” But this distribution was not necessarily permanent. The people “have retained in themselves the initial exercise of all power through the ballot,” and “the ballot is the republican form of government both in the nation and in the State.” Although it might be preferable for a local power to assume the duty of qualifying the citizen to bear his or her responsibilities to the nation and the state, in a matter so essential as the preservation of the nation itself, “it is the right and duty of the whole to preserve the whole, and the right and duty of the whole to preserve the whole implies the preservation of all the parts by that whole, to the existence of which all the parts are necessary.” More specifically,
the right to educate the child throughout the nation is the right to preserve the Government and the nation. That right cannot be curtailed. It is geographically coextensive with the jurisdiction of the Government itself, and self-preservation compels its exercise by the National Government whenever there is failure for any reason on the part of the parent and the State. (Blair, 1887, p. 5)
To further reinforce this line of argument, the report made extensive reference to the comprehensive education measures of other nations. Citing first of all the case of France, and then also Belgium, Italy, England, Scotland, Ireland, Prussia, Russia, Austria, and Japan, authors of the report recounted recent increases in the liberality of other countries, especially in Europe, in support of mass education, with particular attention to the goal of making universal the ability to read and write. As the report itself noted, quoting extensively from the U.S. Commissioner of Education, the high levels of investment in common education in other countries were absolutely concurrent with the U.S. effort to establish a national education system and with the Blair Bill itself. Comparative historical analysis reinforces this picture. In France, for example, beginning in the 1870s, a major increase in national education funding had occurred, and in 1882 national legislation substantially accelerated that support. Similarly, Belgium increased its national investment in education by leaps and bounds in the 1860s and 1870s and then again nearly doubled its expenditures between 1878 and 1882 (Lindert, 2004). Even “pagan people, like the Japanese” were “realizing [their] innate possibilities” through investment in mass education (Blair, 1887, p. 6).
The overall point of this analysis was both normative and competitive. Although, from the perspective of some historians and theorists of American statehood, the argument offered by authors of the committee report might have appeared somewhat novel and controversial, from an international perspective, the argument for education as a means of national self-preservation appeared increasingly normative. Other nations were “accelerating their pace” in mass education, while in the United States the pace was stagnant, or perhaps even declining. “Five years will educate a generation substantially,” the report noted, “and it will not be long ere the Latin and the Saxon of Europe will reach and pass his kindred on this side of the Atlantic if a relative improvement shall not be here maintained.” Moreover, the domain of this competition was not merely domestic but imperial and commercial. Great Britain in its wisdom had not only established a national education system within domestic borders in 1870 but also extended that system to its colonies, which now existed “on every vacant lot on the globe. . . . Wherever among these upheaving populations she sends her ships she carries her institutions and her laws,” with the result that she had now “annexed the world” (Blair, 1887, pp. 6–7).
Marshaling Data, or the “Rhetoric of Statistics”
Having thus articulated both a legal logic and a normative context for establishing a national education system, the report then turned to examining the actual conditions of education in the United States. Making great use of the newly flourishing arts of data collection as practiced by the Bureau of the Census and the Commissioner of Education, Blair and his colleagues effectively laid out the case that there was indeed a deficiency of the people, and that this deficiency threatened the very survival of republican government. They did so primarily by presenting data. Promising to “give the country the cold steel of reliable statistics,” they proclaimed such information to be “more eloquent than any other possible statement,” demanding “the profoundest study of every citizen of the land.”
It was in this presentation of data that the logical link between literacy and suffrage was made most clearly and strongly. Up to this point, the discussion had been framed more broadly in terms of education and citizenship. Recall that the jurisdiction of the committee was education and labor and that the subject of the report and of the Blair Bill itself was national aid to education. When it got to the section titled “Actual State of Education in This Country,” however, the report reframed the discussion to focus more specifically on literacy and suffrage, explaining that while basic literacy would seem a rather low standard of qualification for a person to “discharge his duty as a sovereign,” the “line of lowest qualification has been fixed as by common consent in the preparation of official data at that level” (Blair, 1887, p. 7).
This use of statistics on illiteracy to cement the case for national aid for education began right away with the presentation of data in Table 1 in the Blair Bill, which appeared under a section titled “Condition of the Suffrage.” A close look at the introduction of data in this section illustrates how and why a focus on literacy and suffrage proved useful for addressing the politics of federalism. The actual content of the table, not clearly identified in the table itself, was a report of the number of persons over the age of 21 who could not write, broken down by state and race. In other words, the table provided no data on suffrage. It was preceded, however, by a discussion that extrapolated from the data an estimate of the number and proportion of illiterates who were voters. “It is the rule to estimate one voter for every five persons in the community,” the authors explained. Given this rule, they continued, “The voting population of the country” could be estimated to be 10 million in 1880. Extrapolating from this premise, then, the authors used data from the table to estimate the proportion of the nation’s voters who were illiterate. Concluding dramatically, that “one voter in five cannot write his name,” the authors parsed out the statistical basis of that claim as follows:
The total number over twenty-one years of age who cannot write is 4,201,263, of whom 2,056,463 are white and 2,137,900 are colored, including about 200,000 Indians and 100,000 Asiatics. Assuming one half of these to be females, and therefore to have no souls, and not only to be without but to be unfit to exercise the suffrage, and making allowance for the unnaturalized citizens, there will remain 2,000,000 of illiterate voters about equally divided between the white and colored races. (Blair, 1887, p. 7)
Having now established the number and racialized distribution of this estimated illiteracy among voters, the authors went on to assess the “danger” that such a distribution represented:
One voter in five cannot write his name. He casts a ballot whose contents are to him unknown except from hearsay. He cannot tell the Constitution of his country from the code of Draco. He is the prey of the demagogue or the victim of prejudice, but he holds the balance of power in almost every state and in the nation at large. (Blair, 1887, p. 7)
Finally, and still before inserting the actual table, the authors of the report made one more important discursive move. They challenged the reader of that time (and, presumably, of the future) to see the problem of illiterate voters not simply as a Southern problem but also as a national problem. They did this first by highlighting the number of illiterates living in the North and implying that illiterates throughout the nation together constituted a kind of class with a potentially independent power to influence affairs of state. The last statement the reader encountered before the actual table was this set of admonishments:
Follow down these columns so pregnant with the demonstration of danger and dishonor to the Republic. The illiterate voters of Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, and Connecticut, of New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, in short of every Middle, Southern and most of the Western States, have power, if combined to decide any political issue that is now, or for years is likely to be, pending between political parties. They represent ten of our fifty millions of people. (Blair, 1887, p. 7)
With this artful preemptive move, the authors effectively shifted focus away from Blacks in the South—where it would otherwise have surely landed, with Alabama at the top of the table’s alphabetical list. (The data on Alabama showed an illiterate “colored” population of more than 200,000, over 3 times that of illiterate Whites in that state.) Instead of stopping there, the reader was challenged to “follow down the columns” and find the nearly 200,000 illiterates in New York, the same number in Pennsylvania, and the more than 100,000 illiterates in each of the states of Massachusetts, Ohio, and Illinois, most of them White. This preemptive shift of focus away from the South was then further reinforced by a visual detail of the table itself, which reported its results very simply in three columns: “White, Colored*, and Total.” The arresting detail was the asterisk, which appeared right away at the top of the table, in the column heading. Proceeding to the asterisk at the bottom of the table, the reader could see that the figures in the “Colored*” column included “Indians and Asiatics” (Blair, 1887, pp. 7–8). The reader was reminded, in other words, that racialized illiteracy existed not only in the South but also in the West, and that such issues were matters of concern not only in the states but also in the territories, and thus in the nation at large.
Subsequent portions of the report’s text and, indeed, of the legislation itself, as well as of other materials collected in the Blair Bill pamphlet, reinforced the visual cues from Table 1 in the Blair Bill. Together they convey a heightened sense of the scale and ambition of the Blair Bill. Although clearly still rooted in the problems of Southern Reconstruction, the national system of education envisioned in the Blair Bill went well beyond the South to embrace other projects as well. Blair and his colleagues made those other dimensions of their national education project explicit in other sections of the committee report. In a section devoted, for example, to analyzing the proportion of children enrolled in school as compared to the proportion of those of school age, the authors commented that soon there would be more children out of school than in it, and went on to admonish,
As we are constantly pointing pathetically at the unfortunate South, so we of the all-wise all-perfect, all-conquering North may well study the condition of our cities, which are as great a source of danger as the ignorant rural population of the South. (p. 11)
Several paragraphs later, they made a similar point with respect to Whites in the West, noting that the highest rate of illiteracy among Whites was in New Mexico, at 45% (Blair, 1887, p. 11). Of course, the reference was primarily to Spanish-speaking New Mexicans illiterate in English but defined as citizens by the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. 8 Also noteworthy in this passage, however, as throughout all the tables of statistics and associated documents, was the fact that Blair and his allies everywhere included the territories as well as the states in the national system of education that they envisioned. Commensurate, perhaps, with the imperial and colonial projects of Great Britain and other European nations that they invoked as models, this national system of education was colonial as well as domestic in ambition and scope.
In this respect the Blair Bill represented a truly national rather than simply federal vision of the education problem, as well as of the country itself. The trans-Mississippi West was significant to this vision precisely because at that time it consisted primarily of territories, not states. By articulating a vision of national education that encompassed the territories as well as the states, and by defining the problem of education in the territories in terms that made it the same as that of the post-Reconstruction South (that is, a problem of racialized illiteracy, or deficiency of the people), Blair and associates offered a vision of the country as a modern, amalgamated, imperial nation, rather than a federation of independent states. 9
Mobilizing Support
Blair and his allies in the NEA and ASSA pulled out all the stops in prosecuting their campaign for establishing a national system of aid for education. In 1882 and again in 1883, they convened a “National Education Assembly” in Atlantic City for the purpose of marshaling public opinion behind the idea of federal assistance to public education. The assembly, ostensibly composed of “Christian educators and statesmen irrespective of section, Church, or party,” included strong representation from Southern states, thereby perhaps partly explaining the relatively large number of petitions that Congress received from Southern citizen and education groups in those years (Lee, 1949, pp. 107–108). In 1882, 1884, and again in 1886 and 1887, sponsors of the Blair Bill solicited and published numerous endorsements, memorials, and petitions from state officials, representatives, citizen groups, and other organizations, and from around the country. One of the objectives, no doubt, of assembling and publishing the contents of Blair’s 1887 pamphlet was to present in one place the cumulative record of this support (Blair, 1887).
The leadership of organizations such as the NEA and ASSA, meanwhile, who had been closely allied with provisions of the Blair Bill from the beginning, referred directly to data on illiteracy and to the link between literacy and suffrage as indicative of the need for national aid for education. The NEA, for example, included its own data on rates of illiteracy by race and by levels of state expenditure for education in its memorial in support of the 1882 Blair Bill, perhaps thereby outlining the strategy that the Senate committee subsequently took up and developed more fully in 1884 and 1886. The group’s leadership then closed its final appeal to Congress by framing the threat of illiteracy in both religious and political terms:
In the name of the millions of Christian citizens whom we represent we earnestly urge Congress to help qualify the Ignorant voters who are intrusted largely by Congressional action with the ballot for the duties with which they are charged, believing the power to do this is co-ordinate with the power that enfranchised them. (Blair, 1887, p. 17)
Similarly, in his capacity as president of the ASSA, Francis Wayland (the younger), joined by the association’s influential founding secretary, Frank B. Sanborn, presented a formal appeal and resolution by calling the attention of the Senate and House of Representatives to the necessary link between literacy and voting. The appeal began with a long preamble as follows:
The American Social Science Association, impressed with the danger involved in the existence of a large number of illiterate voters in the population of this country, as revealed in the last census, for the proper enlightenment of which class of voters many of the States are unable to make adequate provisions, and believing that a Government resting on the suffrage of the majority of the people cannot preserve itself from corrupt influence nor secure a high degree of civil freedom unless education is generally diffused among all classes of voters; . . .
Their preamble then continued and closed by laying out the grounds for federal intervention in education that essentially became the blueprint for the Senate committee’s subsequent arguments:
And further believing it to be within the constitutional power of Congress to provide in this manner for the safety of the Republic, and that the enfranchisement of the freedmen imposes an especial obligation upon the Government to qualify them for a safe discharge of the new duties devolved upon them, [the American Social Science Association] would earnestly pray that your honorable body will take prompt and efficient measures to avert these dangers; that money raised from such sources as your honorable body may in its wisdom deem best shall be distributed, for a limited period, to the common schools of the States and Territories, on the basis of illiteracy, and in such manner as shall not supersede nor interfere with local efforts, but rather stimulate the same and render them more efficient; said moneys to be distributed under such guarantees as shall secure their application to the objects therein named, with equal justice to all classes of citizens. (Blair, 1887, p. 23)
In the end, however, as we know, Blair and his associates failed in their effort. After a decade-long campaign and repeated introduction in Congress, the Blair Bill went down to clear defeat in early 1890. The consequences were many and significant—arguably much greater than has yet been fully assessed by scholars or than can be fully outlined in this chapter. For the present, however, two main sets of lessons from this history will be considered: the lessons drawn by Lee in 1949, and the lessons we might draw after reconsidering his analysis in light of more recent historical scholarship.
Lessons from the History of 19th-Century Efforts to Establish a National System of Education
In a two-part conclusion to his study, Lee (1949) first provided an overview of his findings regarding 19th-century efforts to establish federal aid for education. He then followed with a section titled “The Contemporary Significance of the Early Attempts to Grant Federal Aid to the Common Schools,” in which he delineated lessons for his own time.
The main lesson Lee (1949) drew from this analysis was the essential immutability of the constraints to which the 19th-century legislation responded. In the first point of his enumerated summary of significance, Lee effectively naturalized such conditions as fundamentally inherent to the American system of government. “There exists among the American people,” he declared, “a powerful and lasting tradition of states’ rights and local prerogative.” Accepting the reality of this tradition was, in his analysis, the first step in making contemporary use of the lessons from history. In deference to that reality, the question for his own time was how best to keep federal involvement in education “within proper bounds and limits.” Specifically, the record of the 1870s and 1880s indicated the unlikelihood of passage of federal aid legislation “which embodies any federal controls other than details of fiscal administration” (Lee, 1949, pp. 166–167).
As an analysis of the realpolitik of his own time, Lee’s (1949) assessment may well have been justified, as is illustrated by the ultimate defeat of the eminently noncontrolling general aid legislation under consideration at the time of his writing. As an assessment of the historical significance of the 19th-century campaign, however, Lee’s characterization of the states’ rights tradition of U.S. education as immutable fails to recognize the extent to which that “tradition” was actively being created both during and through the 19th-century campaign for federal aid.
Lee’s (1949) assumptions regarding the immutability of local and state limitations on federal power led him to characterize the Hoar Bill’s effort to enforce the educational provisions of Southern state constitutions as essentially frivolous. At one point, Lee further suggested that Hoar himself was not seriously interested in education per se, but in some other purpose. This assessment of the weak political prospects of the Hoar Bill was no doubt true to some extent, though Hoar’s “other purpose” may have been a genuine concern for political equality for African Americans, for which he consistently advocated throughout his long political career (as he also did for that of Native Americans, Chinese immigrants, women, and eventually Cubans and Filipinos). The Hoar Bill certainly agitated the fundamental problem of federalism that would be vociferously debated over the next 20 years (Hoffer, 2007) and eventually decided, by 1890, largely in favor of state’s rights. No doubt, given the terms of Reconstruction, the bill’s prospects for passage even in a modified form were dim after the readmission of the last of the Southern states in July 1870. In addition, it is fair to ask, as Lee did, whether at that important political moment, when Radical Republicans still dominated Congress, a more moderate proposal, acceptable to more Northern educators if not to White Southerners, might have achieved what no subsequent federal education bill could.
Nonetheless, to really come to terms with the significance of the historical moment, it is essential to point out that all historical evidence suggests that some sort of compulsion was indeed necessary for anything like universal common school systems to be established in the South. However limited the funding, support, and oversight provided by the Freedmen’s Bureau, and however essential the initiative and self-help of Black communities (along with missionary organizations and mission-minded individuals) were to the development of Black education in the South in the immediate postwar period (Anderson, 1988; Foner, 2005; Span, 2009; Williams, 2005), the scholarship also shows how absolutely devastating the withdrawal of federal funding, enforcement, and protection was for schools and educators of all kinds after 1870. As has been documented with numerous examples by Williams (2005) and Butchart (2010), acts of terrorism against schools, schoolteachers, and Black education were ubiquitous throughout this period. Teachers, according to one correspondent from Alabama, were “advertized as subjects of assassination,” and hundreds of schoolhouses were burned. The withdrawal of federal support meant the abandonment of Black education to such fates. As Butchart (2010, p. 172) noted, “The freed people understood the link between political efficacy and literacy, and even as early as 1870 they knew that they had been betrayed.”
A close look at the dynamics between congressional and state action in this period suggests that the step-by-step compromises and failures of federal legislation and enforcement were read very closely within states and responded to accordingly. In 1872, just 2 months after the Perce Bill passed in the House of Representatives, with its compromise principle that states with segregated schools systems would still be eligible for federal funds, the border state of West Virginia, which had not been under military rule, effectively sent up a trial balloon by approving a new state constitution that required racial segregation in its schools. West Virginia thus became the second state (after Tennessee, which had been admitted to Congress before the requirements of the Reconstruction Act) to include such a provision in its constitution. 10 Within 5 years, five more states had revised their constitutions to require racial segregation in public schools. The remaining Southern and border states followed. 11
More broadly, a reassessment of provisions of the Blair Bill reveals the complex and highly contingent context into which such legislation proposed to intervene. Scholarship in the history of education reveals that the decade of the 1880s was precisely when the future contours of education for Native Americans in the West and African Americans in the South were most hotly contested by reformers and policymakers. At that time, the subject was still open to debate.
With respect to Native Americans, this policy debate took shape at the first meetings of the Indian Rights Association in 1882, the very year that the Blair Bill was first introduced in Congress. The following year, in 1883, the first of the Lake Mohonk Conferences brought together reformers seeking an alternative to the militarized approach to federal Indian policy and the dependent, and often degraded, status of Native American life on reservations. In the meantime, in 1879, Richard Pratt’s experiment with the federal off-reservation boarding school at Carlisle, Pennsylvania, commenced, followed by the founding of the second federally sponsored institution, Chemawa Indian School, in Forest Grove, Oregon. Four more schools were founded in 1884, the year the Blair Bill received its first favorable vote in the Senate. 12
Throughout this period, according to Adams (1995, p. 58), policymakers continued to debate the role that off-reservation boarding schools should play in federal Indian policy, with reformers promoting a general program of education expansion for Native American populations rather than a specific institutional model. Real and substantial alternatives to a federal system already existed, moreover, among the sovereign nations of Indian territory, which had been developing their own schools and schools systems under their own authority since the 1830s (Steineker, 2016; Wickett, 2000). In Adams’s analysis, it was not until the mid-1880s that policymakers became committed to the idea that some sort of boarding school experience (whether on- or off-reservation) would be an essential part of a broader national education policy for Native Americans, combined with a system of Native American day schools. Reflecting this policy trajectory, attendance rates at both boarding and day schools increased substantially after 1880 and especially between 1885 and 1890. It was not until 1887—as Henry Blair made his last-ditch effort to save his bill in Congress—that a somewhat settled national education policy for Native Americans became linked to the Indian land allotment policy in the Dawes Act.
Similarly, in his detailed analysis of the development of Black education in the South, Anderson (1988) emphasizes that the model of education that would be promoted for African Americans remained very open to debate through the 1880s and well into the 1890s. Although the Hampton Institute had been founded in 1868, under the auspices of the American Missionary Association, it was not until the early 1870s, after the demise of the Freedmen’s Bureau, that Armstrong wrested pedagogical control of Hampton from Lucelia and Philomea Williams, who had been operating it on a liberal model (Butchart, 2010, pp. 90–91). Even after Armstrong assumed leadership of the institution, the industrial model of education for which it became known took time to be established. The heart of Hampton’s manual labor program, according to Anderson, was established in 1879, when Armstrong created the night school with Booker T. Washington as principal (Anderson, 1988, p. 54). Washington then went on to establish a similar program at the newly founded Tuskegee Institute in Tuskegee, Alabama, in 1881.
According to Anderson (1988), “The most significant expansion of industrial education in black normal schools and colleges occurred during the 1880s” (p. 66), in large part through the influence of the Slater Fund. Other philanthropists, such as Robert Ogden and Peabody, also became associated with the Hampton–Tuskegee model of industrial education during this period. Despite the growing ties between Armstrong, Washington, and business philanthropists, however, the missionary model of liberal education remained influential. Moreover, missionary advocates remained strong and effective advocates for liberal education and strong critics of the system of industrial education for African Americans throughout the 1880s and well into the 1890s and beyond. As recounted by Anderson, missionary leaders attacked the “reviving Negrophobia” and the self-interested promotion of manual labor education by industrial philanthropists at a meeting of the ASSA in 1895 (Anderson, 1988, pp. 66–68).
In this context, the curricular provisions of the Blair Bill, which specified that states receiving federal funds must provide a strong curriculum of academic study for all students equally, “without distinction of race or color,” stand out as a deliberate intervention in an ongoing debate. Moreover, the fact that this definition of “common education” was explicitly distinguished from the industrial education to which funds could be applied in the territories suggests that the somewhat unusual decision to detail the contents of common education was in fact a deliberate effort to ensure that the system of common schools established in the South with federal aid would indeed be “education for citizenship.”
Drawing on student accounts from correspondence, memoirs, and oral histories, Adams (1995), Anderson (1988), Lomawaima (1994), and others have amply detailed the experience of industrial education at Hampton and various Native American boarding schools in strikingly similar terms. In both contexts, the domestic work required to support the institution, including laundry, kitchen work, cleaning, sewing and mending of uniforms, and the agricultural and mechanical work necessary to feed the occupants and maintain the institution’s operations, filled most hours of the day for both female and male students, leaving little if any time for study and then typically of only the most rudimentary skills. Moreover, as Anderson thoroughly documented, and an earlier literature also established (Bond, 1934; DuBois, 1910, 1935; Woodson, 1933), after 1900 the industrial model became “the” model promoted by educators and philanthropists through the “Southern movement” conducted by the Southern and general education boards, though often resisted by African American students, parents, leaders, and communities. When it comes to African American education, however, this eventuality was as much a result as a precondition of the failed campaign for a national education system.
The one place where Lee (1949) directly addressed these racial dynamics was in the penultimate paragraph of his conclusion and thus of the study as a whole. Acknowledging the antidemocratic position of “those who maintain a ‘morality of white supremacy,’” Lee engaged the question of whether, in his own time, federal legislation should include mandates that disqualified from federal aid any states “in which racial segregation [was] a legally established practice.” Taking the position that no such mandates should be included, Lee offered several explanatory arguments. Starting with a statement about the limits of the law as a means of changing social attitudes, he articulated a logic of gradualism in improving Black school conditions, saying that a “growing social consciousness, supported by progressive tendencies of contemporary judicial decision, is gradually producing reform in the established pattern of race relationships, notably in the area of educational equalization” (pp. 169–170).
As we know from the work of Anderson (1988) and Margo (1990), however, the gap between funding for Black and White schooling in the South began in 1890, when the Blair Bill finally failed. In the period from 1870 to 1890, levels of funding for Black and White schools in the South, though low, were essentially equal. Similarly, it was only after it became clear that no federally funded national campaign to promote or guarantee universal literacy would be conducted that Southern states decided to make literacy a qualification for Black suffrage (Whites were largely exempted from meeting such qualifications), a condition that itself eventually reinforced and widened the gap in school funding. Furthermore, it was only after Southern states had perfected this strategy for suppressing Black education without federal response that Plessy v. Ferguson confirmed it as constitutional. Hence, when Lee (1949) himself concluded that the attitudes of those “who maintain a morality of ‘white supremacy’ would be unlikely to be changed by federal mandates” and that any legislation which would be inapplicable to states with racial segregation “would be ineffective,” he was addressing a reality that had been institutionalized in the 60 years since the final failure of the Blair Bill in 1890.
Lee’s (1949) study is invaluable as a record of the legislative efforts and actions on federal aid for education from 1870 to 1890. Despite the fact that the study was conceived and executed in the interest of future success for a comparable legislative effort, it exhibits admirable detachment in its evaluation of factors that contributed to or inhibited the “struggle” and the relative success or failure of various strategies. Nonetheless, of course, the context of the study’s creation did color its analysis in certain respects—chiefly, perhaps, with regard to the strength of its hopes. Shaped by a faith in future success, as well as by lingering assumptions of progress, Lee’s account insufficiently reckoned with the consequences and significance of past failures, which in many ways created and explained the conditions of his present that he regarded as normal. The very fact of Lee’s self-conscious effort to mobilize professionals in support of federal legislation derived from the failure of the earlier effort to empower the Bureau of Education with the authority to provide national direction in education itself. Similarly, the very virulence of the “states’ rights” dynamic in education, which Lee had taken pains to recognize in the past in order to better strategize around it in the future, was confirmed, strengthened, and indeed stimulated by the ultimate failure of the Hoar, Perce, Burnside, and Blair bills of the 1870s and 1880s.
The Significance of Professional Associations and Social Science Research in National Education Policy
Substantively, the failure of the Blair Bill and of the larger campaign for a national system of education meant that the authority to define the terms of access to, and the regulation of, both education and suffrage returned to the states. But more than that, authority returned to the states with a new level of permission to discriminate in the distribution of both education and suffrage and, more specifically, to use educational qualifications as a means of discrimination with respect to voting rights. In other words, the final failure of the Blair Bill had effects well beyond the simple absence of its promised provisions. It took a set of issues about the extent and limits of federal authority in education and suffrage and settled them, and it settled them in favor of state prerogative. In a few Western states, such as Wyoming, this new permissiveness led to state provisions that expanded access to political rights for some—especially women—at the same time as it also emboldened some Western states to restrict access for others—for example, Chinese in Oregon and California, Indians in Washington, and citizens not fully literate in English in Oklahoma and Arizona (Beadie, 2016; Beadie et al., 2016; Bottoms, 2013). In the South, by comparison, the defeat of the Blair Bill spelled out a more fully restrictive logic. Note that it was only after the final defeat of efforts to achieve universal literacy through a federal system of funding for education for all that Southern states undertook literacy-based approaches to disfranchisement. And, as the historians Jim Anderson (1988) and Robert Margo (1990) have amply demonstrated, it was only after disfranchisement that Southern states began radically undermining principles of equal funding for Black schools.
Although it would certainly be an overstatement to say that the failure of the Blair Bill somehow caused the rise of suffrage restrictions in the South and some areas of the West, the failure of the bill and of the larger campaign of which it was a part did play a more central role in constructing the suffrage restrictions of Jim Crow than has generally been recognized (Beadie, 2016). As the legal scholar Alfred Avins (1965) pointed out in a somewhat curious 1965 Washington Law Review article on literacy tests, some radical Republicans in Congress recognized and worried from the outset of Reconstruction about the potential for education to become a proxy for race in the restriction of Black voting rights.
13
During debates over the first Civil Rights Bill of 1866 and the 14th Amendment, these Congressmen cautioned their colleagues about the educational loopholes that insufficiently strong civil rights provisions would leave for Southern states to exclude Blacks from voting. In 1866, for example, Congressman John Farnsworth of Illinois noted,
A State may enact that a man shall not exercise the elective franchise except he can read and write, making that law apply equally to the whites and blacks, and then may also enact that a black man shall not learn to read and write, exclude him from their schools, and make it a penal offense to instruct or to teach him, and thus prevent his qualifying to exercise the elective franchise according to the State law. (Avins, 1965, p. 438)
Similarly, Congressman Hamilton Ward of New York anticipated that Southern states would
readily publish some ground of exclusion from suffrage other than of “race or color.” They may require them to read and write, and yet keep alive the black code against disseminating knowledge among them. Indeed, they may require them to have a collegiate education, or something else equally absurd. (Avins, 1965, p. 438)
Concerns like these were precisely what led radical Republicans to argue (unsuccessfully), first, that the right of suffrage should be unconditionally guaranteed by the federal government; second, that equal access to education should be guaranteed in a federal civil rights bill; and third, that a system of federal aid and oversight of universal common education should be established at the national level. Thus, in 1890, when the last of these efforts failed, the rhetorical and conceptual ground had already been laid for using literacy as a qualification for suffrage. In other words, the same logic once used to promote the success of the Blair Bill was inverted by defeat into a logic justifying contingencies exactly the opposite of those intended. If federally funded common education was necessary to ensure the literacy required for suffrage—and ultimately to ensure the very survival of self-government—then the failure to provide such federal support required restriction of suffrage based on literacy. In this way, the rhetoric used to legitimate a federal system of support for universal education and thereby prevent education from being used as a proxy for race doubled back on itself. It became a tool for legitimating exactly the suffrage restrictions the originators had hoped to prevent. 14
Moreover, and perhaps more important, as Congressmen Farnsworth and Ward had recognized, the failure of the Blair Bill and the consequent return of state responsibility, power, and prerogative in education effectively provided an incentive for White supremacists to limit Black access to education as a means of limiting Black access to voting rights. In this way, the inability of the federal government to legislate in the domain of education and the disability of non-Whites as voters were co-constructed after 1890. The failed Blair Bill campaign was in effect the “lost wax” of state literacy restrictions on voting and unequal state education provisions that structured the Jim Crow edifice. 15
The value of looking closely at this consequential defeat is that it illuminates some of the historical pitfalls of federalism that still plague efforts at national education policymaking in the United States today. In particular, the campaigns of the 1870s and 1880s show how traditional limits on federal authority over the states contribute to shaping policies framed in terms of deficiencies of the people rather than deficiencies of the states. In the process, it also shows how the difficulties of forging grand bargains across states can lead to policies solicitous of local and regional prejudice, and how those same dynamics can incentivize sponsors of such policies to lump together quite different populations and issues in one racialized problem or class. Finally, a close look at the campaigns for a national system in the 1870s and 1880s shows how the search for a usable national discourse of education reform can double back on itself and effectively reproduce the very problems it once was intended to solve. Or, to use the more recently salient language of Gloria Ladson-Billings (2006), the case of 19th-century efforts to establish a federal system of education shows how the historical limits of federalism repeatedly transform the “education debt” into an “achievement gap.”
Finally, to return to the analysis by Elisabeth Clemens (1997), the case of the 19th-century campaign to secure federal funding for education illuminates the peculiar historical role and significance of professional associations like the NEA, the ASSA, and eventually, the AERA, in a national context of decentralized government authority. According to Lee (1949), the federal assistance question of the 1870s and 1880s marked the beginning of effective legislative activity within the education profession. In his analysis, however, the education profession during the 1870s and 1880s was extremely weak as a pressure group on the national scale. In particular, he critiqued professional educators of the past as “utterly unable to unite in recognizing the urgent necessity of federal aid.” Using that critique as a point of departure for addressing the professional educators of his own time, Lee then went on to advise that “no federal legislation is likely to be enacted without aggressive professional organization representing approximate solidarity of professional support for such legislation” (p. 167). In effect, we can say that Lee was right. What the NEA and the ASSA did in the 1870s and 1880s was to work closely with the commissioner of education and members of Congress to shape legislation, formulate arguments, collect and interpret data, and mobilize “public and professional interest” in support of a national system of education. With the failure of the Blair Bill and the consequent stimulation of administrative power at the state level, the capacity to redefine educational issues in national terms became even more crucial. In effect, the culture of expertise became a substitute for federal authority itself. The significance of professional associations and social science research came to lie in their intellectual and organizational capacity to categorize education conditions in ways that turned them into politically actionable national “problems.” Following the pattern laid down during the Blair Bill campaign, social science data and research would repeatedly be turned to as the means of redefining as “deficiencies of the people” what were really “deficiencies of the states.”
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
Deep thanks to Karen Graves for encouraging this project.
