O one interested in comparative education, it is fascinating to see how,
today, many nations are struggling to solve the basic problems connected with
the selection and education of future members of the professions. To a
comparative educationalists many questions about the selection and training of
doctors and lawyers in different countries are questions almost without
meaning. Asking whether European schools are better than schools in the United
States is like asking a comparative anatomist whether a whale is a better
mammal than an elephant.
The comparative anatomist is interested in examining the similarities and
differences to be found in animal or plant organs which carry out the same
function; he is very cautious, however, about proclaiming the virtues of a
device found in one particular species over a device for a similar purpose
found in another. Of course, the anatomist knows that mammals are modified only
slowly by changes in environment; unlike schools or colleges, no man-made
decisions will radically alter the structure of the functioning organism he is
examining.
Some will argue that this vitiates my analogy; they may claim that the essence
of human organizations lies in the fact that conscious acts of men and women
can change them, and as history shows, overnight if need be. "But wait a
moment, ' the student of the comparative anatomy of schools will say, '-not
overnight surely, except at the point of a bayonet or in our time under the
shadow of armored vehicles and tanks." And such changes, he will argue, are the
equivalent of pathological alterations.
History shows that, except under conditions of duress brought about by external
forces, schools and colleges have developed gradually in different parts of the
world in response to a variety of different conditions. They are a product of
the society they serve and they also influence the future of this society.
Reformers who have sought to change education have had to be content with minor
alterations or else have had to devote a lifetime to their task.
It is clear that various educational devices have in the past been outmoded by
social changes. The situation of Oxford and Cambridge during the first two
thirds of the nineteenth century is a case in point. For two generations many
leaders of public opinion argued for the need of either establishing modern
universities in England or reforming the two ancient seats of learning.
Eventually both courses of action were followed; the modification of Oxford and
Cambridge by successive royal commissions was so radical as to constitute the
equivalent of a series of drastic biological mutations. By the end of the
century English universities were once again well adapted to the tasks at
hand.
I should like to approach the subject of education for the professions in the
mood of the comparative educationalist. I should like to examine in particular
the way the future members of the professions are recruited, selected, and
educated in certain European nations and the United States.
For a number of professions one phase of professional education--the final
stage, so to speak--is essentially identical in all countries. There is little
to be gained by noting the minor differences to be found in various nations.
This is true of medicine, of engineering, and of the natural sciences; it is
likewise true to a lesser degree of certain areas within the social sciences
and the humanities. It is possible to pass judgment on the work of the medical
faculty of a university, for example, almost without taking into account the
traditions of the institution or its surroundings. Considering the training of
a medical man only from the standpoint of professional competency, it would not
be too difficult to classify all the medical schools of Europe and America into
groups according to their degree of excellence. The same would apply to the
training of engineers and research Scientists.
It is not so much professional education as the education provided prior to
professional studies that varies from nation to nation. This is particularly
true if one directs attention to the way the future members of the professions
are recruited and selected. Nowhere on the European continent will one find the
equivalent of the American four-year liberal arts college. The European youth,
unlike his American contemporary. passes directly from a university preparatory
school to professional training.
Americans find it difficult to imagine an educational system without a college;
Europeans find it hard to imagine what sort of an institution an American
college can be. And the task of explaining the situation in the United States
to a Germans for example is not made easier by the fact that there are over
1;00 four-year colleges in our country, some part of a university, some not;
their curricula and criteria for admission and graduation vary enormously;' the
one thing they have in common is the right to award a bachelor's degree. an
academic symbol derived from the Middle Ages which has completely disappeared
in German-speaking nations, though not in France.
One sometimes hears it said that the characteristic feature of American
education is the proportion of our youth attending a university. So phrased
this is a completely misleading statement. What is characteristic is the very
large proportion of our youth from eighteen to twenty years of age who arc
engaged in full-time studies; the fraction is something like a quarter to a
third; in Great Britain, France, Germany. and Switzerland not more than a tenth
of the youth arc so engaged. Equally characteristic are the figures for school
attendance at the ages sixteen to seventeen; in America more than 70 per cent
of those of this age arc in school full-time; in European countries and Great
Britain the corresponding figure is less than 20 per cont. Some Europeans have
said that only a rich nation could afford to keep so many of its youth in
school so long. But with the increase in automation, it is a question whether
the withdrawal of a considerable fraction of youth from the labor force is a
luxury. The type of training needed in the distributive industries more and
more requires considerable "book learning."
At all events, when we consider the proportion of youth engaged in professional
studies, the position of the United States is not so different from that of the
rest of the world. Perhaps it is fair to compare the proportion of young men
enrolled in the first year of a university in Europe or Great Britain to the
proportion in the United States entering engineering, law, and medical schools
and starting in the graduate schools of arts and sciences. Taking the figures
for young men, the proportion in the United States seems to be something like 6
per cent; surprisingly small, many would say. But X hat is equally surprising
is that similar figures represent the situation in all nations for Which I have
seen statistics. Therefore, one could say that the proportion of youth studying
professionally in a university is about the same in the United States as in
other nations. What is different between America and Europe is the method by
which this very small percentage is selected and educated prior to engaging in
professional studies.
Today. unlike the situation of a hundred years ago, the education of members of
the professions (particularly natural scientists and engineers) is a concern of
statesmen: public opinion has an interest in hearing the answers to such
questions as the following: Are we training enough professional people? Are we
including in our education for the professions a large fraction of those who
have the requisite ability. or are we overlooking many with high
potentialities.
In a totalitarian state these questions lead directly to a control of the
entire educational process; the capable are to be sorted out and educated for
the different professions according to the nation's need for these professions.
This is essentially the directive of the Party Executive Committee to those in
charge of schools and universities in the Soviet Zone of Germany. In a free
country the political situation is, thank God. very different, not only because
of the impossibility of governments ordering youth into different educational
channels but because of the freedom of parents to express their desires to
school authorities and, if need be, to politicians.
National concern with the number and quality of scientists and engineers is
clearly a result of the last phases of the industrial revolution which started
two hundred years ago. Parental concern with education as a way by which a son
may better himself economically and socially is a con; sequence of the spread
of that spirit of democracy of which Tocqueville wrote more than a century ago.
It has taken time for the equalitarian doctrines of the French Revolution
reinforced by American notions to affect European education; but there is no
doubt that the problem of selecting future university students is becoming more
rather than less difficult in England and a number of European states. The
question of social prestige is becoming involved, as it has been involved with
us in America for at least fifty years.
Let me give a few concrete examples. During the Second World War the British
Parliament made certain changes in the English system of tax supported schools.
Among the objectives which the new legislation sought to achieve was the
widening of opportunity for children of the less well to do; another was an
elimination of the great difference in prestige that in the past had
characterized' one type of tax supported school as compared to another. The
traditional view of the content of a school program was, however not modified.
A long course was held to be necessary; and selection of those capable of
entering those schools which provided this course was to be made at the age of
eleven to twelve.
From the point of view of a parent with a low income and a talented child, the
new arrangement must appear to be better than the old. But parents of medium
income view the altered situation highly critically. In the past, the ';grammar
schools" had provided excellent roads to the universities open to those who
could afford to pay a moderate fee. (For well-to-do families the usual road to
the university is provided by the famous "public schools.") The new regulations
abolished the fees and made the admission of all children subject to a
competitive examination. And to make matters worse, so some parents have said,
a new type of examination is employed--so-called psychological tests--that has
no apparent relation to school work! As a result the whole subject of selection
at age eleven-plus is a topic of heated discussion among educators and
laymen.
In one county in England the experiment is being made of abolishing the
examination in two Selected geographic areas and sending all children from
eleven to fifteen to one school and then providing grammar school places for
those whose parents are willing to keep them in school until at least sixteen.
Presumably ability to handle the work in the grammar school will be the
determining factor in deciding who goes on to the university. The article in
the London Observer reviewing the experiment carries the heading "Eleven plus
Condemned." This caption corresponds to the sentiment expressed in a number of
articles and letters to the editor that have been appearing in British journals
and papers in the last few years.
On the European continent, too, difficulties have arisen in regard to the
process of selecting those who are to attend the Gymnasium in preparation for a
university education. Each one of eleven states in the Federal Republic of
Germany has complete authority in educational matters; so too have the
twenty-five cantons in Switzerland (with a few exceptions). A comparison of the
roads to the university in each of these states is interesting; it shows how
different local conditions have modified to a certain degree the European
pattern. The points at issue are often the exact length of the pre-university
school course and the methods by which pupils are selected for the special
pre-university schools.
The parental pressure varies greatly from place to place and reflects
differences in tradition and economic circumstances. Sometimes the selection
can be made solely on the basis of advice given by teachers and accepted by
parents. Sometimes examinations are required in order to decide who should
start on the road to the professions. If so, parental protests frequently
arise. In one German state I heard a mother complaining that the entrance tests
for the Gymnasium were so foolish and arbitrary that many of her friends could
not get their children admitted. as a consequence the parents were pressed into
the expense of sending them to private schools. in France, where the road to
the professions has been studded with stiff competitive examinations, anguish
over the selection process has been particularly acute. The entrance
examinations for the pre-university schools (Lycees) have just been abolished
and the program in these schools lightened. Selection of the pupils who head
for the university is now to be made on the basis of the primary school record.
In Switzerland, the psychological effect on the child of failure in the
pre-university school (in some cantons a half to two thirds drop out) is giving
concern to the school authorities.
In several German states, parents have brought suit against the government
because a child had been barred from a pre-university school. The matter has
even become a political issue. It is not the method of selection but the length
of the pre-university school course that is in controversy. If the course is
nine years, then selection must be made at the age of ten to eleven; this was
the usual pattern in Germany, I judge, some years ago. But in the post-war
years in some states the pre-university course was shortened and the time of
selection correspondingly postponed.
The arguments in favor of keeping all the children together in one school as
long as possible are familiar to Americans; an additional (and for Europeans
more weighty) argument for a shorter pre-university period of schooling is that
it may be easier to select those suited for university work at twelve or
thirteen rather than ten or eleven. The abbreviated course has been attacked,
however, on the grounds that nine years is necessary if the pupil is to master
the subjects required for later university work (particularly Latin). The
differences of opinion on the matter seem to run along the usual lines of
political cleavage in both Germany and Switzerland; in general the moderate
right favors the longer course, the moderate left the shorter.
In one state election in Germany the issue was of major importance This is hard
for Americans to understand, since the difference of opinion appears to be
relatively slight and the educational question involved touches the schooling
of not more than a fifth of the children. It is interesting to us as evidence
of the intimate connection between school problems and sociological
questions.
From what I have already reported, it is clear that the age at which selection
is made and the time it is made is intimately associated with the content of
the pre-university course of study. And here eve meet the second major
difference between the road to the professions in Europe and in the United
States. In Europe, the state determines the requirements which must be
satisfactorily fulfilled in order to obtain, on finishing school, the necessary
credentials which w ill enable the holder to enter a university. In Germany and
Switzerland, for example, the certificate which a youth obtains after passing a
set of final examinations in the last school year is an admission ticket to a
university. The absence of any such uniform requirements in America astonishes
and perplexes the European observer of our chaotic system
Though each state in the Federal Republic of Germany is autonomous, the
standards throughout arc essentially the same. Certain variations in the
subjects on which a student is examined are permitted, but one may say that the
essential subjects are languages and mathematics. In the classical Gymnasium
(in Germany called the humanistic school), Latin and Greek are obligatory; in
most of the others, Latin and at least one modern foreign language; in a few
schools, exposure to a heavy dose of modern languages, mathematics, and natural
science is considered a substitute for Latin. A European university is not an
American college. and language instruction is not one of its functions;
scientists, lawyers, medical men, economists, and historians, there fore, have
no opportunity for studying any language after they leave school. With this in
mind, one realizes why a long school course is believed necessary for future
university students. The central position occupied in the curricula of
pre-university schools by foreign languages is a reflection of the role played
by both tradition and geography in educational matters. As far as future
professional men are concerned, Europeans are convinced that the traditional
education in languages, literature, mathematics, and European history comprises
the best general education.
For the 70 or 80 per cent who have no ambition or no opportunity to head for a
university, formal full-time education ends at fourteen or fifteen; further
educational development in part-time courses will depend on the occupation of
the young man or woman in question. The apprentice system together with
continuation schools takes care of industrial workers, it may be said. For
apprentices with special mechanical aptitude, technical schools are available.
For the 10 per cent or so who must drop out of the pre-university schools, some
special type of education with more emphasis on practical business affairs is
needed. This the European would grant, but the idea of a general education for
a large proportion of adolescents aged sixteen to twenty-one is unheard of on
the continent of Europe.
How is it at the end of the road, one may ask, Are those Europeans who complete
the hard journey and arrive at a university and later become professional men
(some 6 per cent of the young men) better educated than the corresponding
Americans? This is the type of question a comparative educationalist refuses to
answer. For so much depends on your standard of judgment, on what basis you
evaluate the nonprofessional knowledge, ability, and attitude of a professional
man or woman.
One thing is certain: the average American medical man, lawyer, chemist,
physicist, or engineer has acquired a quite different store of general
knowledge from that of his European counterpart. If command of foreign
languages is the test of a well-educated man or woman, relatively few Americans
can claim to be well educated. If knowledge of European literature and art is
taken as a measure, there again the average American professional man will fail
in comparison with the Europeans. European pre-university education is in
essence literary education; American college education can rarely be so a
described.
On the other hand, every American in school and in college will have sampled
at Least a bit of some of the social sciences. Indeed, perhaps the majority of
those whom we are here considering will have acquired a considerable knowledge
of economics and political science; a large proportion will have studied
psychology and sociology. With rare exceptions these disciplines are only
available to a European in a university; and while the student enrolled under
the law faculty may find time to listen to some lectures in these fields, the
medical man and natural scientist will not.
In other words, those Americans who complete at least three years of a
four-year liberal arts college course will have had a kind of academic
experience unknown on the continent of Europe. (A possible exception to this
statement is the education provided for the future teachers in the
pre-university schools who are educated in the famous Ecole Normale in Paris
and in the philosophical faculties of the German universities.)
But it is not only the content of the program which characterizes the American
college. The whole atmosphere is different from either a European school or a
European university. There is far more freedom for the student than in a
school, of course, and there is far more personal instruction of the student by
the professor than is possible in a university of the European type with its
relatively small staff in proportion to the size of the student body. The
American student is ready to express an opinion to anyone; discussion is
encouraged at every turn. Student activities ranging from dramatics through
debating and journalism stimulate student independence; there is no parallel to
these expressions of student initiative in Europe. All of which, of course,
reflects what Americans have come to believe are important aspects of college
education.
Indeed, one can sum up the comparison I have been making by saying that the
leading citizens of Europe and the United States have quite different aims in
mind when they talk about education as apart from professional training. And
the difference reflects the different social histories on the two sides of the
Atlantic.
As a first approximation, one may say that Europe adjusted its education to
modern times nearly a hundred years ago. A period of rapid educational change
on the Continent took place in the middle of the nineteenth century; this
reflected the first impact of industrialization. The pattern thus established
has persisted to the present with relatively few changes; it is obviously
intimately associated with the apprentice system of training industrial workers
and a relative lack of geographic and social mobility. It also reflects the
powerful influence of the university faculties which were well entrenched when
the educational changes were in progress--particularly the influence of the
professors of the classics.
During the period of change in the United States in which we are still living,
traditional academic forces have played a far less important role. But such
social factors as the raising of the school-leaving age in the United States
and the near disappearance of the European apprentice system were of more
importance in determining the shape of the new educational system which is now
emerging.
I have written "emerging" because it is dear that in this country we are still
ill process of adapting our schools, colleges, and universities to the current
needs of our society (and trying to adapt to future needs as well). In England,
too, a process of change has been and still is at work. In the nations of
Western Europe, on the other hand (with the exception of Scandinavia), few
alterations in the systems have been made in the last fifty years; though there
are many educational problems similar to our own and England's, a period of
reform has not yet begun.
An American observer cannot help wondering if such a period is not considerably
overdue. It may well be that the more immediate political and social issues in
France and the urgent task of reconstruction in post-war Germany have merely
pushed aside consideration of educational changes. I seem to detect signs of
dissatisfaction in the Federal Republic of Germany which may be the prelude to
important actions; in parts of Switzerland the road to the professions is being
resurveyed. In France a few important changes have just been made, and a bill
providing for a drastic alteration in the French system has been introduced
into Parliament by the Minister of Education.
We here in the United States are still engaged in remaking our educational
roads; the nature of the task varies considerably from state to state, from
community to community. Pedagogic devices and plans for the organization of
schools and universities are not always transferable across state lines; they
are almost never exportable to foreign countries. But nonetheless the exchange
of ideas and blueprints is always helpful because it stimulates and arouses
discussion.
We may watch with interest, therefore, the new developments in those Western
nations from which came originally our cultural traditions and our ideas about
education. The free nations of the world in planning for their youth, as in
many other matters, muse be in constant communication, for however diverse
their methods their fundamental aims remain the same: the preservation and
extension of personal freedom.
Copyright © 1940 by James Bryant Conant. All rights reserved.