Separating the elites

Phil at Harvesting references a brief article by Charles Murray of the American Enterprise Institute about the need to educate "intellectually gifted" children about their duties as members of society's future elite. It is a quick read and very thought-provoking. Dr. Murray essentially argues that because the "intellectually gifted" (which he defines as possessing an IQ of 120 or above) "[have] a huge influence on whether our economy is vital or stagnant, our culture healthy or sick, our institutions secure or endangered[, it] follows that our future depends crucially on how we educate the next generation of people gifted with high intelligence." He claims that society has neglected to make the highly gifted aware of their special responsibilities as an elite, writing that "we live in an age when it is unfashionable to talk about the special responsibility of being gifted, because to do so acknowledges inequality of ability, and this sounds elitist."

At this point, I was beginning to think that this article was headed into the territory of boosting children's self-esteem, making them aware of their gifts, how political correctness stifles them, etc. etc. Refreshingly, though, Murray argues that the most important responsibility of the "highly gifted" is to gain "wisdom", which is constituted by an appreciation of humility. "Many high-IQ students go from kindergarten through an advanced degree without ever taking a course that forces themselves to say to themselves, 'I can't do this'". At this point I found myself nodding in agreement. Dr. Murray goes on to recommend that highly gifted students be given a specially tailored curriculum and that "they need to be educated with each other, not to be coddled but because that is the only setting in which their feet can be held to the fire."

I stopped nodding.

Then Dr. Murray argues that:

the gifted must assimilate the details of grammar and syntax and the details of logical fallacies because these are indispensable for precise thinking at an advanced level. They also need to be steeped in the study of ethics, starting with Aristotle and Confucius. It is not enough that gifted children learn to be nice. They must know what it means to be good. And the encouragement of wisdom requires an advanced knowledge of history.

I began to furrow my brow.

And finally, Dr. Murray writes, "What I am calling for is a revival of the classical definition of a liberal education, serving its classic purpose: to prepare an elite to do its duty."

At this point I banged my head on the desk.

There are several reasons why I think Murray is both right AND wrong. First, the right stuff. I applaud Dr. Murray's call for an education that stresses not only intellectual development but also moral development and a sense of civic and social responsibility. He singles out Aristotle and Confucius as his models, and though one could debate the merits of including any given philosopher on the curriculum, that's not the point. The point is that there is an assumption that something called "ethical behavior" exists and that it is good to behave ethically. This moves against the "anything goes" mentality of moral relativism. If we are going to have an elite to lead us, they had better be morally upright and have the interests of the greater good at heart rather than their own selfish interests (Enron, anyone?). Integrating the study of ethics and morality into the curriculum is an excellent idea.

Now, the criticisms: to start, Dr. Murray is using IQ as the basis of judgment for "highly gifted". I am no psychologist so I will sidestep the debate about whether IQ accurately measures intelligence, but I would contend that what constitutes "highly gifted" should go beyond sheer academic ability and include those who are "gifted" in other ways. For example, there are those who are emotionally sensitive and as a result are experts at human relationships--the Dale Carnegies of the world. There are those who are blessed with artistic ability and who can help us probe the depths of the human condition. If humility is a lesson that must be learned to gain wisdom, then many children who are not "gifted" must nevertheless possess a good amount of wisdom as they struggle more mightily than their high-achieving peers. At the end of the day, though, Murray seems to suggest that neither wisdom nor talent in human relations nor artistic skill is sufficient for admission to the elite; a high IQ is, though. The problem is that the definition of "elite" is rather narrow:

In professions such as medicine, engineering, law, the sciences and academia, most people must, by the nature of the selection process, have IQs better than 120. But people with IQs of 120 or higher also occupy most of the top positions in corporations and the senior ranks of government. They produce most of the books and newspaper articles we read and the television programs we watch. They are the people who invent our new pharmaceuticals, computer chips, software and every other form of advanced technology.

No doubt these are important professions on which society depends, but then what of the parents who raise children to seek knowledge and wisdom? What of the elementary school teachers who shape children's early learning experiences? Not all of these people have high IQs, but their responsibilities are nevertheless critical to the development of society's future. Considering the education that Murray has in mind for the future elite, why should they not also be exposed to the study of ethics? Should they not also be exposed to the wisdom of Aristotle, Confucius and other world-shaping luminaries? Should they not also learn what it means not just to be "nice" but to be "good"? Why shouldn't teachers also cultivate in them the same appreciation for history, so vital to a well-functioning democracy?

Second problem: Dr. Murray writes that "highly gifted" students need to be educated with each other, which presumably means segregating them from their peers. This is a tricky issue. What does this mean? Does it mean that you move the "gifted" into a few honors seminars? Special majors? A separate educational system? How soon do you segregate them? College? Middle school? Kindergarten? As a graduate student in a large public university, it is not unusual for my undergraduate sections to exhibit a wide spectrum of abilities, even within one section. There are students from a multitude of backgrounds here, from top-performing alumni of elite out-of-state prep schools to students who have bootstrapped their way through the public education system while working part-time to single mothers who work tirelessly to invest in their children's futures. My classrooms represent a pretty broad cross-section of American society, something that I did not get while I was an undergrad at a private liberal arts college. Diversity gets pooh-poohed by some conservatives who worry about the dilution of values in society and creeping moral relativism. These are legitimate concerns, but one needs to be careful about not throwing out the baby with the bath water, as it were. Diversity means more than simply having more women or minorities in the classroom; it is fundamentally about enabling the exchange of different experiences and ideas. The student who consistently gets B/B- grades because she is a single mother holding down two jobs may not be "highly gifted" in Dr. Murray's book, but she is a model of persistence and discipline, traits that are not always present in those for whom academics comes easily. The high school valedictorian who takes her new Honda Accord for granted may be motivated to think more about the sources of socioeconomic inequalities when chatting with her classmate, a recent immigrant struggling to make ends meet. These connections are not always frequent, and they take effort to create, but they become much more difficult if we begin to segregate the "gifted" from the "less gifted", the privileged from the unprivileged. How, then, should we expect the future elite to understand the challenges and issues facing their "less gifted" peers, let alone craft innovative solutions? How else are we to build trust across different lines of social categories and dismantle the ugly partisanship that arises from crude stereotyping and mutual misunderstanding?

Third problem: the other side of the diversity coin is that an education geared toward elites unconsciously reproduces a certain set of norms and identities, for good or for ill, potentially leading to groupthink. Elites are more likely to talk with other elites rather than with non-elites. Elites are more likely to read "The Economist" or "The New Yorker" and close themselves off from ideas emanating from non-elites. When was the last time you saw a politician read "Street Spirit"? Elites learn (consciously or otherwise) to treat passionate, emotional appeals with suspicion and dispassionate ones as having greater credibility. Essentially, being an elite carries its own set of biases and blind spots. The problem is that elites can't always catch those blind spots. Sometimes it takes a non-elite to point that out. In a classroom where you only have elite students (selected by elites based on criteria designed to replicate elite culture), you are less likely to get someone questioning elite norms. "Gifted" students may indeed be able to hold each other's feet to the fire in a segregated curriculum, but it often takes an "outsider" to show them what it is like to hold their hands to the fire as well.

In the final analysis, I agree with Dr. Murray on the content of an education for those deemed "intellectually gifted", whatever that means, but I remain unconvinced that the wisdom he advocates can only be found in the closed interactions of "gifted" classes.