The political right has been on the offensive lately in educational reform, while the progressive left is battening down the hatches. The mood is starkly different on each side of the political divide and these two books are representative of the coalescing forces on the right and the left. 

From the right, Frederick Hess and Michael McShane have offered a comprehensive plan with their book, Getting Education Right: A Conservative Vision for Improving Early Childhood, K–12, and College. The two scholars are unapologetic conservatives seeking a reasonable approach to education reform. They want change, but at the same time, they warn fellow conservatives to lower the heat to make room for rational discussion. The book speaks to “conservatives … who seek a robust, actionable education agenda” and “readers of good will” interested in a conservative approach to education “where left and right may agree” and where “thoughtful people may disagree in good faith.” It is an ambitious goal and one hopes they are successful. The authors come to their task with serious conservative bona fides, which is evident in their judicious references to Roger Scruton, Russell Kirk, and Michael Oakeshott—all in the first ten pages.

Jennifer Berkshire and Jack Schneider are leaders of the so-called “Educational Resistance,” meaning they join others in opposing conservative attempts to reform education. In their latest book, The Educational Wars, they choose a clever rhetorical tactic: By arguing for what public education could be, rather than what it is, they sidestep explanations of real difficulties schools are struggling with today. These authors give the impression that the primary obstacles to education’s promise are unreasoning parents, religious zealots, shadowy right-wing entities, and opportunistic elected politicians. 

The Hess and McShane volume is comprehensive, optimistic, and hortatory, with appeals “to mend our civic fabric” and calls for meaningful “hard-hitting debate.” The Berkshire volume pretends to be none of these things: it is a call to arms. 

“Come, Now, and Let Us Reason Together”

The reader may initially wonder if Hess and McShane can speak meaningfully about education reform all the way from preschool to college in only 192 pages. They do so, although at times one wishes the authors had more space and time. They undoubtedly hope that their book will not only be read, but also consulted over time, as the need arises. Getting Education Right pledges to provide a “positive, forward-looking approach” to education reform, and delivering on that requires the book to pack a lot of guidance into a relatively small space. Early on, they underscore essential concepts such as liberty, personal responsibility, excellence and community, and, in the interest of fair play, also include the progressive hobby horse, “equity,” which, as far as they understand it, is “a good and important thing.”

The authors emphasize the all-important conservative principle that it is easier to destroy than to create, and, following Chesterton, agree that metaphorical fences should not be torn down until it is understood why they exist and how their purpose might be otherwise achieved. Hess and McShane tactfully refrain from labeling destructive progressive activity “nihilistic,” even though it often is. 

The book is built around several “Beliefs” that “anchor” the authors’ approach; for example, “Education Should Be a Handshake.” By this, they mean that everyone must do their part, including the school family, teacher, and student. Public education is not an elite-led enterprise. Hess and McShane follow their “Beliefs” with “Lessons Learned.” The first may be the most important: “It’s important to know what you are for, not just what you’re against.“ They chide many conservatives today for not doing the heavy lifting to explain what education should be, instead of merely declaiming what it should not, and it is this omission that gives Berkshire and Schneider their best line of attack. Lesson #4 advises, “Remember that educational improvement is about serving all Americans.” This conveys to the reader the authors’ approval of school choice and their warning that it is not a “silver bullet” for every educational challenge. For a full-throated endorsement of school choice, however, one need only consult McShane’s organization, “edCHOICE.” 

The authors include several practical considerations that relate to the family and the school. They offer advice on building community support, managing the hazards of social media, and understanding the reform needed in adoption and foster care practices. Although Hess and McShane are cautious with their criticisms, they have no hesitation in pointing out the idiocy exhibited by Ibram X. Kendi and CNN contributor and New York University Professor Ruth Ben-Ghiat, who condemned the Amy Coney Barrett family for, in the first instance, “colonizing” their Haiti adoptees, and in the second, comparing the adoptive parents to Nazis. These criticisms were self-serving absurdities.

Hess and McShane also criticize misguided literature that may obscure as much as inform practice. They warn that pushes for government-sponsored Pre-K programs may be cloaked opportunities to shape children apart from their home when such nurturance should happen elsewhere at such a critical stage. They also wisely counsel that Early Education should be evaluated, first, in light of principles before entering the dense metrics forest of interminable studies that can mislead as well as enlighten. The section on higher-ed is worthwhile, though the authors introduce a number of insightful considerations but do so in a relatively short space compared with other sections of their book. It would be refreshing to hear more about why college is a bad choice for many people. This seems an opportune time for such a discussion given that the social stigma of deciding against the university is waning and more young people choose vocational-technical schools, trade schools, or apprenticeships. 

The only weakness in the book is the section “How We Got Here,” which is a too-short historical summary of the growth and struggles of American education. It is entitled “A Bit of History,” and it is indeed a “bit,” though it does provide a context for their “Lessons Learned.”

“Cry Havoc, and Let Slip the Dogs of War”

Jennifer Berkshire and Jack Schneider are out to persuade no one and if you are neither a foot solder nor an ally, their martial tone and progressive cliches will be off-putting. For those familiar with progressive education thought, The Education Wars is little more than twentieth-century education progressivism, re-warmed in the microwave. If school problems exist, the problem is right-wing opposition to “Covid-mitigation efforts,” “critical race theory,” “gender ideology,” and climate change pedagogy. Don’t listen to the reports: student performance is not so bad. The real threat comes from those who are out to “destroy public education.” Accordingly, the authors announce that they intend “to make a stronger and clearer case for taxpayer-supported, open-enrollment, democratically controlled schools.” 

Predictably, the authors argue that a central goal of education is “to realize the potential of a multiracial democracy,” which is not possible without a public education system “that brings young people together,” though it is not clear what “bringing students together” looks like and how it differs from the plethora of school activities already underway. The authors employ vague unobjectionable platitudes in need of gnostic interpretation. In this vein, they quote the high-flown rhetoric of CNN contributor Noliwe Rooks. “When you close your eyes,” Rooks asks, do you see “public education as a soul-transforming portal to a new life and world, or as a barrier between those with means and those without?”

One might fairly answer, “Neither.” It is precisely this kind of mystical ambiguity that conceals an unyielding political agenda and prevents meaningful conversation—how can you debate the ineffable? They posit that “public education has been expected to solve … poverty,” which is a “massive social and economic project that has been dumped at the doorstep of the schools. In addition, “resentment about the persistence of income inequality has been directed at the educational system.” Yet, progressive educators for some time now, have taken for themselves these insurmountable challenges. Indeed, this is precisely the heart of the progressive project—to fashion the classroom into a microcosm of a particular worldview, and, eventually, to send trained cadres of students out to address all of the world’s pressing problems. 

The authors recognize the issue of dysfunctional school boards but dismiss it as “problems to be solved en route to realizing the potential of self-governance.” This kind of indeterminate quest has marked progressive ideology for a long, long time. If we never arrive, we must continue to push forward; indeed, for John Dewey, it is all about the journey absent a promise or even an aspiration to arrive. He calls this dynamic “intelligence,” which has justified a maddening train of “new theories and methods” that drive good teachers from the classroom. 

The authors have little sympathy for those who want their children to have a religious education. For them, religious influence in the classroom amounts to little more than discriminating against the LGBTQ+ population and telling “nonbelievers that they are going to hell.” If we really want to know what education should be, ask the students. Pushy parental meddling means students’ rights are ignored and generational change is hobbled. Schools are where “future adults receive tools to decide which ideas and practices to embrace and which to reject for themselves.” These “tools” are no doubt the chimera of “critical thinking” which most often means little more than students absorbing the prejudices of their teachers.

Conclusion

It is fair to ask whether either Berkshire or Schneider have meaningful experience teaching K-12. There is none listed on the book biographies, nor on Schneider’s CV at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. By contrast, both Hess and McShane have considerable experience in the trenches. Does it matter? Surely it does. Some things never change: progressive theorist John Dewey taught for two years in Oil City, Pennsylvania before he, and the parents of his students, concluded he was not cut out to teach. One year of teaching elementary school in Vermont yielded no better results. 

Today, the gravitational pull for many—on the right as well as the left—is to focus on “process” rather than “content.” Too few people are able or willing to speak concretely about the nature of a dynamic canon, what it consists of, and how it should be managed. Neither of these books says much about the content of education. One of Hess’ and McShane’s “Beliefs” is that “Education Should Instill Love,” and here they mean that education should be designed to, for example, instill love for literature and art, as well as cultivate an aesthetic sense so as to appreciate beauty. Berkshire and Schneider approvingly quote a New Jersey mission statement that promises to provide “a culturally responsive, critically engaging curriculum for students of all backgrounds.” This, however, is little more than a Rorschach Ink Blot, awaiting subjective explanation. 

For progressives, educational reform is an existential threat. No serious discussion, no matter how reasonable, is wanted. Accordingly, the fight over education is a power struggle. Hess and McShane are no doubt aware of the nature of the fight but seek meaningful, constructive discussion and debate. Hopefully this will happen, but even so, given this winner-take-all contest, sincere reformers might note the example set in the Book of Nehemiah, where those rebuilding the walls kept their sword close at hand:

Those who were rebuilding the wall … worked with one hand, and held a weapon with the other. Every builder had his sword secured at his side as he built. (4:17–23, AMP)