The Times published an article (https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/01/12/us/texas-vs-california-history-textbooks.html?smid=nytcore-ios-share ) that compares textbook editions of the past four years from the same publisher (McGraw-Hill or Pearson) for 8th- and 11th-grade social studies in the influential markets of Texas and California. This is not exactly news: for some years, “exposure” of textbook bias has been discussed, but few seem to know about it (or know but dismiss its importance?).*
Many of the article’s numerous examples condemn omissions or changes of emphasis in the Texas versions, and often these are indeed disturbing (though not always in quite the way the article suggests). Not surprisingly, the two States’ standards for addressing social justice issues (and that label covers far more ground than many of us realize) often differ. While my own biases jibe far more with what I know of the California approach, and I’m to the left of the NYT, my academic self has problems with both textbooks and with the Times article itself.
Most saliently, both versions of the “same” textbook assume that “facts” are unambiguous and value-free (if you’re in doubt, think about racial and ethnic stereotypes on which most scientists agreed not so long ago, or how religion and science have frequently clashed)—reciprocal concepts I abandoned after completing an undergraduate philosophy degree but which I too often see ignored even by reputable scholars. What seems to me to be missing in the textbooks (at least the Times article doesn’t mention this) is an up-front discussion of the problems of producing history and the impossibility of “objectivity” in its traditional use (as opposed to a version that ASPIRES to “full” objectivity but knows it’s impossible).**
The Times writer is raising important issues, For example, in many cases “classroom materials are not only shaded by politics, but are also helping to shape a generation of future voters.” But immediately after this important observation, the writer qualifies it with successive paragraphs that contrast “conservatives” (exemplified by a Trump quote about the “‘radical left’”) and “the left” (without “radical”— but with Trump’s quotation as the immediate antecedent, encouraging the notion that the terminology is equivalent). Both terms suggest equivalent political extremism (and who other than an obnoxious zealot likes extremism?) and gloss over the presence of a wide subset of attitudes within each “extreme.” Worse, by now having framed the rest of the article with these “extremes,” the Times’ writer is allowing (really, encouraging) us to think that “truth” (whatever that is) lies in some desirable “moderate” position between these clearly dire perspectives.
I’m not about to do a thorough scholarly investigation of the textbooks, but I’ll take up three examples in the article (and I’ll welcome substantiated corrections from those who have looked into this subject more than I).
- “On [an] annotated Bill of Rights, California textbook explains that rulings on the Second Amendment have allowed for some gun regulations” while “the Texas edition…contains only a blank white space.” The Texas total omission, of course, is easy to fault. But the Times’ own summary (“allowed for some gun regulations”) distorts the textbook’s valiant effort to synthesize in a few words the thorny running arguments about gun control: “allowed” suggests a good thing, and “regulations” sounds “reasonable.” From the perspective of some gun owners, however, and the NRA in particular, the textbook’s words are themselves misleading. No matter how you summarize the issue, you’ll alienate some readers: those who think strong gun control measures are necessary and legal will say that giving weight to the opposition legitimizes an immoral position that is taking many lives, while gun “rights” advocates will claim that a key moral issue is personal freedom. It might seem that a careful re-statement of what I just wrote could be “objective”—except it wouldn’t be, because it castrates the vital moral underpinning of the disputants. This is where we need more good teachers to lead productive classroom discussions.
- With regard to the Texas version for the Harlem Renaissance, the Times summarizes “some critics ‘dismissed the quality of literature produced.’” (1) Why NOT mention this, since at a raw level it’s apparently accurate (and therefore its omission in the California version is misleading)? (2) On the other hand, why is the Texas version so vague and undocumented with specifics? What does this “fact” tell us about American culture, racial or otherwise, in the 1920s? Who were these “critics”? Were the criticisms racist-driven, or did they have some other basis—and what are the credentials of who says what on the subject? What “literary” standards were used, and do we still use them? How does such criticism of the Harlem Renaissance compare with other literary (or any) movements that were initially bad-mouthed by contemporary “critics”? (3) Both versions then include a valuable SPECIFIC criticism from Langston Hughes about SPECIFIC politicallimitations of the Harlem Renaissance. What relation did Hughes’ comment have to those of the “critics” mentioned in the Texas version? (4) How much do similar problems arise elsewhere in either State’s version? Or more to the point: How do you create a textbook at all that does critical justice to the vast topics it covers? How do you pick and choose what bits to include or exclude from the content?
- “The Texas book…states that American action on global warming may not make a difference if China, India, Russia and Brazil do not also act.” Is the Texas version trying to take pressure off the US? Maybe. But as far as it goes, is the statement wrong? Is the rhetorical “logic” that the US needn’t take any measures in the meantime? (Will that fly with young people who are understandably getting increasingly enraged about the world we elders have produced for them?) Can teachers not flesh out such implications and lead discussions about them? (Maybe the real, shameful disconnect here is that one quid-pro-quo implication is that global warming can be tolerated until all major polluting nations take equally significant counter-actions. I am, nonetheless, mildly grateful if Texas standards don’t demand giving space to denier arguments—though of course my gratitude expresses its own bias.)
* As my wife puts such matters, we may asymptotically approach the desired result but never reach it.
We shouldn’t be surprised that local biases infiltrate textbooks—so far as I have been able to tell, they always have. For example, to reinforce legitimacy of scripture, a child’s English Renaissance writing textbook might use biblical quotes as examples.
**Every time we do criticism, we shouldn’t have to repeat this nostrum, but many arguments act as though it isn’t true and/or relevant. For those not familiar with it, and in the spirit of (relatively) full disclosure, here is my summary:
- All our judgments get filtered through our life experiences (many relevant ones unveiled in psychotherapy) and fundamental beliefs (or, as I like to call them, axioms, like some, maybe all, statements in this list; religious people typically call them articles of faith that start with belief in some form of divine being or beings concerned with human existence).
- We’re often not aware of these basic assumptions, but argumentation is impossible if we have fundamentally different ones.
- No matter how hard we try, we can’t entirely escape influences of these biases (notice how I’m equating a number of different terms).
- Our intellectual task, then, is to figure out how to minimize those influences when we want to persuade others to a given point of view.
- This is true of every academic (including the sciences) or non-academic thought process.
- As much as possible, we can learn and try to use tools of critical thinking designed to achieve traditional objectivity.
- We can learn how to be self-critical in what we think and limit the power of our biases over us (though SOMETIMES those biases produce insights we’d otherwise miss), but like the “remember, thou art mortal” mantra whispered into Caesar’s ear, we must remember that we can never entirely free ourselves of our biases, regardless of how aware of them we are.
- When we argue with someone, we should acknowledge our own relevant biases and identify where they differ from or agree with the other person’s.