Have you ever talked to someone who has no clue what you're talking about? A friend of mine grew up in Turkey, the daughter of a Christian missionary couple. She was not exposed to much American culture in the way of music, movies, or television. She did have an extensive education in art, which didn't help me communicate with her at all. It was reminescent of communicating with the "savages" in Brave New World.
I know exactly what you mean—talking to someone who just doesn't get your references can be really weird. It’s crazy how much we rely on pop culture to connect. But it sounds like your friend had a whole different world of experiences. I wouldn’t call it "savage" though—more like a different lens. Have you found any common ground with her since? Those gaps can actually lead to some pretty cool conversations.
I’m with Jason on this—public schooling, despite its benefits, and those far too rare worldview-challenging & perspective-broadening teachers, does a lot more mind-narrowing than expanding. As an institution, it’s largely a propaganda and conditioning factory. It teaches students how to fit into a system, based on the very matter-of-fact and mechanistic, labor/production-value based thinking, rather than how to think critically or creatively.
That said, I also recognize the wisdom in your pointing to the cyclical nature of it all. This shift toward the “just the facts” approach reflects modernism’s own soaked obsession with scientific objectivity, and commodification of all things (and devaluation of all things which resist commodification), which itself might be ripe for its own collapse and cycling into something more fantastic and grand, coming around again.
A question I find myself pondering after reading this is, how can we guide kids (and ourselves, culturally) toward reembracing and valuing art and the humanities, despite the ongoing Borg assimilation?
Time to think about this with some Raffi in the background for ambiance.
No need for apologies. And, yes, I’d love to read your expanded thoughts on the topic.
I wanted to drop a note to say I think we’re talking the same direction and not ignoring this post, it’s just that time is short during daylight hours with two small kids.
This is a really thoughtful response. Sorry it's taken so long to get back to you. Here are my thoughts...
You're right that public schooling is a factory. Truthfully, I'm not sure how else it could be done, en masse, for core competencies. However, I don't believe it's a lack of imagination; it's more a matter of throughput based on the resources available (think: good, fast, cheap—pick two).
Where I find significant fault in the education system, both as a student and now as a parent, is the lack of broad studies or activities available. Let me explain it this way: in the small community where I live, if you want your kids to play a sport, it's pretty likely you'll end up as the coach. The same is true for nearly any engineering-adjacent or creative endeavor. The resources simply don't exist, so it's on the parents to facilitate everything—including funding. The more I talk to people in larger cities, the more I hear that similar resources don’t exist there either, but are instead replaced by after-school paid programs.
This all circles back to money—for schools, infrastructure, teachers, etc. If there's any narrowing, it's in the funding to create what Jed Bartlet called "cathedrals of learning."
Your question is perennial and salient: how can we guide kids (and ourselves, culturally) toward reembracing and valuing art and the humanities?
Again, I don't think it's a lack of imagination, but rather a functional problem—follow-through. Parents have to prioritize it, vote for it, and will it into being. It has to be driven by the same determination we apply to other things—like career advancement, personal health, or even financial stability. We put immense energy into ensuring those areas of our lives thrive, but when it comes to education, particularly arts and humanities, we often let it fall by the wayside. If we want to see real change, we need to treat it with the same urgency and importance, dedicating time, resources, and collective will to build a more well-rounded, enriched learning environment for our kids.
Sorry upfront for the long reply. I appreciate you taking the time to think about and get back to me on this. I really enjoy thinking/talking about these ideas. There's a TL;DR the last paragraph, if this is too long. I should probably turn this into something.
--
I really like the direction you’re going, here—it’s practical, focused, but also aware of the broader issues at play. You’re on the money in recognizing there’s a lot of… money going into education. I remember a professor of mine in a class on “educational theory” once saying, “Educational outcomes influence political outcomes; because of that, all educational theory is political theory.” It’s easy to see why so much goes into controlling that system and determining what’s critical and what’s a luxury. In California, art and music had been absent from public school for over a decade before Proposition 28 was passed in 2022, to your point about prioritizing it and voting for it.
Spelunking a little deeper, I can see the undercurrents that have driven this. The philosophical aquifer of the modern world and modern worldview is obsessed with individualism, materialism, and efficiency. Everything’s about throughput, metrics, science, and making things work faster, cheaper, and becoming more streamlined. Prima facie, all seemingly good things. But this worldview, where everything is treated like a machine to be optimized, is exactly what tends to elbow out the arts and humanities. Art isn’t efficient and doesn’t necessarily accomplish anything. Poetry doesn’t have "outputs" we can measure on a spreadsheet or metrics we can check off on a checklist (though some educators have certainly tried this approach to teaching poetry, or making art fit into the modernist box). And communities—real, deep, supportive communities—don’t thrive in this individualistic worldview. When we view and treat the world like a giant machine, we chip away at its sanctity and our humanity.
I love Kurt Vonnegut's saying: “A husband, a wife, and some kids is not a family. It’s a terribly vulnerable survival unit." He goes on to suggest that we need more than just these tiny nuclear family units struggling to get by (and now even these are increasingly disintegrating). He says we need "extended family" or community—something modern American individualism and the worship of the rugged industrialist has never really valued. There’s this deep irony that often goes unnoticed, where corporate double-think has convinced us that to be “free” individuals, unafflicted by unjust government overreach, we need to submit to and obey bureaucratic layers of corporate management. Escape one system, just to be ground down by another. This is present in the debate over public schools, as some support reform while others support privatization, as if government vs. non-government is the core issue, and that either reform or privatization will eliminate this bureaucratic “factory” of conditioning conformist kids to come out the other side how we want them to look.
Sure, some schools might tolerate art and creativity, but it’s only acceptable in this world as it makes us more productive and palatable for the system. Mark Fisher talks about how this way of doing things is antagonistic to the nuclear family and friendships, but also needs family & friends as they provide us a kind of catharsis and recovery from work stress. The same could be valid for art, and that is the main way “innovators” have found to commodify it. Plenty of anti-capitalist, pro-environmental movies (made in Hollywood) make big money in the theaters. In Japan, a service rents elderly people as friends for a day. It seems like we’re not far from that in the USA. If we were as culturally trusting as the Japanese, we’d probably be there already.
The current way dismantles true art, honest community, and deep education not only because they can’t be monetized or controlled as easily, but also because they can pose a direct threat by waking people up and radicalizing us to oppose the meat grinder we’re born into.
So I’m with you. As parents or even as members of our communities, we have a huge role to play. But remember, change is possible. It’s crucial to investigate our worldviews and the systems and thoughtforms we’re adopting and interrogate their implication if we want to reclaim the spaces where imagination and creativity can thrive without everything being turned into some output-driven machine. This will take a fundamental shift in worldview, away from considering it as a giant machine itself—an expanse of dead matter waiting for us to bring it to life by our productivity. We can “ prioritize it, vote for it, and will it into being. It has to be driven by the same determination we apply to other things—like career advancement, personal health, or even financial stability.” This is great energy. It seems like we’re just so consumed by those other things as an order of necessity that when it comes to the others, we often don’t have anything left in the tank for them. But that doesn’t necessarily mean it has to be that way – we can use that great energy and inspiration from what you say about prioritizing these things—the things that matter most—into creating real family and community and culture around that, alternative to, and despite the current prevailing paradigm.
TL;DR: From a deep ontological perspective, we started looking at ourselves as having transcended nature through the power of reason and logic, science, and respect for individual autonomy. Much wisdom and benefit came from that, but we must realize that we ARE nature and can’t transcend it like the enlightenment-era thinkers who built these systems optimistically believed. They saw reason and logic as God-like qualities that transcend base animality, and in this way, we humans are something much more divine and superior. Supposedly, by incorporating those divine qualities and fully engaging them, we would transcend predation and evil and be able to build a utopia. Then it started to backslide into, “ok, maybe not utopia, but this is the best we can do," or
"We have hospitals and air conditioning, now” type justifications.
But if we accept that we are a part of nature, we are invited to realize that if we continue to look at the natural world as a machine, we are dooming ourselves to become machines of our own making, full of logic, science, and reason, yet devoid of emotion, intuition, passion, and humanity.
Have you ever talked to someone who has no clue what you're talking about? A friend of mine grew up in Turkey, the daughter of a Christian missionary couple. She was not exposed to much American culture in the way of music, movies, or television. She did have an extensive education in art, which didn't help me communicate with her at all. It was reminescent of communicating with the "savages" in Brave New World.
I know exactly what you mean—talking to someone who just doesn't get your references can be really weird. It’s crazy how much we rely on pop culture to connect. But it sounds like your friend had a whole different world of experiences. I wouldn’t call it "savage" though—more like a different lens. Have you found any common ground with her since? Those gaps can actually lead to some pretty cool conversations.
I’m with Jason on this—public schooling, despite its benefits, and those far too rare worldview-challenging & perspective-broadening teachers, does a lot more mind-narrowing than expanding. As an institution, it’s largely a propaganda and conditioning factory. It teaches students how to fit into a system, based on the very matter-of-fact and mechanistic, labor/production-value based thinking, rather than how to think critically or creatively.
That said, I also recognize the wisdom in your pointing to the cyclical nature of it all. This shift toward the “just the facts” approach reflects modernism’s own soaked obsession with scientific objectivity, and commodification of all things (and devaluation of all things which resist commodification), which itself might be ripe for its own collapse and cycling into something more fantastic and grand, coming around again.
A question I find myself pondering after reading this is, how can we guide kids (and ourselves, culturally) toward reembracing and valuing art and the humanities, despite the ongoing Borg assimilation?
Time to think about this with some Raffi in the background for ambiance.
No need for apologies. And, yes, I’d love to read your expanded thoughts on the topic.
I wanted to drop a note to say I think we’re talking the same direction and not ignoring this post, it’s just that time is short during daylight hours with two small kids.
This is a really thoughtful response. Sorry it's taken so long to get back to you. Here are my thoughts...
You're right that public schooling is a factory. Truthfully, I'm not sure how else it could be done, en masse, for core competencies. However, I don't believe it's a lack of imagination; it's more a matter of throughput based on the resources available (think: good, fast, cheap—pick two).
Where I find significant fault in the education system, both as a student and now as a parent, is the lack of broad studies or activities available. Let me explain it this way: in the small community where I live, if you want your kids to play a sport, it's pretty likely you'll end up as the coach. The same is true for nearly any engineering-adjacent or creative endeavor. The resources simply don't exist, so it's on the parents to facilitate everything—including funding. The more I talk to people in larger cities, the more I hear that similar resources don’t exist there either, but are instead replaced by after-school paid programs.
This all circles back to money—for schools, infrastructure, teachers, etc. If there's any narrowing, it's in the funding to create what Jed Bartlet called "cathedrals of learning."
Your question is perennial and salient: how can we guide kids (and ourselves, culturally) toward reembracing and valuing art and the humanities?
Again, I don't think it's a lack of imagination, but rather a functional problem—follow-through. Parents have to prioritize it, vote for it, and will it into being. It has to be driven by the same determination we apply to other things—like career advancement, personal health, or even financial stability. We put immense energy into ensuring those areas of our lives thrive, but when it comes to education, particularly arts and humanities, we often let it fall by the wayside. If we want to see real change, we need to treat it with the same urgency and importance, dedicating time, resources, and collective will to build a more well-rounded, enriched learning environment for our kids.
Sorry upfront for the long reply. I appreciate you taking the time to think about and get back to me on this. I really enjoy thinking/talking about these ideas. There's a TL;DR the last paragraph, if this is too long. I should probably turn this into something.
--
I really like the direction you’re going, here—it’s practical, focused, but also aware of the broader issues at play. You’re on the money in recognizing there’s a lot of… money going into education. I remember a professor of mine in a class on “educational theory” once saying, “Educational outcomes influence political outcomes; because of that, all educational theory is political theory.” It’s easy to see why so much goes into controlling that system and determining what’s critical and what’s a luxury. In California, art and music had been absent from public school for over a decade before Proposition 28 was passed in 2022, to your point about prioritizing it and voting for it.
Spelunking a little deeper, I can see the undercurrents that have driven this. The philosophical aquifer of the modern world and modern worldview is obsessed with individualism, materialism, and efficiency. Everything’s about throughput, metrics, science, and making things work faster, cheaper, and becoming more streamlined. Prima facie, all seemingly good things. But this worldview, where everything is treated like a machine to be optimized, is exactly what tends to elbow out the arts and humanities. Art isn’t efficient and doesn’t necessarily accomplish anything. Poetry doesn’t have "outputs" we can measure on a spreadsheet or metrics we can check off on a checklist (though some educators have certainly tried this approach to teaching poetry, or making art fit into the modernist box). And communities—real, deep, supportive communities—don’t thrive in this individualistic worldview. When we view and treat the world like a giant machine, we chip away at its sanctity and our humanity.
I love Kurt Vonnegut's saying: “A husband, a wife, and some kids is not a family. It’s a terribly vulnerable survival unit." He goes on to suggest that we need more than just these tiny nuclear family units struggling to get by (and now even these are increasingly disintegrating). He says we need "extended family" or community—something modern American individualism and the worship of the rugged industrialist has never really valued. There’s this deep irony that often goes unnoticed, where corporate double-think has convinced us that to be “free” individuals, unafflicted by unjust government overreach, we need to submit to and obey bureaucratic layers of corporate management. Escape one system, just to be ground down by another. This is present in the debate over public schools, as some support reform while others support privatization, as if government vs. non-government is the core issue, and that either reform or privatization will eliminate this bureaucratic “factory” of conditioning conformist kids to come out the other side how we want them to look.
Sure, some schools might tolerate art and creativity, but it’s only acceptable in this world as it makes us more productive and palatable for the system. Mark Fisher talks about how this way of doing things is antagonistic to the nuclear family and friendships, but also needs family & friends as they provide us a kind of catharsis and recovery from work stress. The same could be valid for art, and that is the main way “innovators” have found to commodify it. Plenty of anti-capitalist, pro-environmental movies (made in Hollywood) make big money in the theaters. In Japan, a service rents elderly people as friends for a day. It seems like we’re not far from that in the USA. If we were as culturally trusting as the Japanese, we’d probably be there already.
The current way dismantles true art, honest community, and deep education not only because they can’t be monetized or controlled as easily, but also because they can pose a direct threat by waking people up and radicalizing us to oppose the meat grinder we’re born into.
So I’m with you. As parents or even as members of our communities, we have a huge role to play. But remember, change is possible. It’s crucial to investigate our worldviews and the systems and thoughtforms we’re adopting and interrogate their implication if we want to reclaim the spaces where imagination and creativity can thrive without everything being turned into some output-driven machine. This will take a fundamental shift in worldview, away from considering it as a giant machine itself—an expanse of dead matter waiting for us to bring it to life by our productivity. We can “ prioritize it, vote for it, and will it into being. It has to be driven by the same determination we apply to other things—like career advancement, personal health, or even financial stability.” This is great energy. It seems like we’re just so consumed by those other things as an order of necessity that when it comes to the others, we often don’t have anything left in the tank for them. But that doesn’t necessarily mean it has to be that way – we can use that great energy and inspiration from what you say about prioritizing these things—the things that matter most—into creating real family and community and culture around that, alternative to, and despite the current prevailing paradigm.
TL;DR: From a deep ontological perspective, we started looking at ourselves as having transcended nature through the power of reason and logic, science, and respect for individual autonomy. Much wisdom and benefit came from that, but we must realize that we ARE nature and can’t transcend it like the enlightenment-era thinkers who built these systems optimistically believed. They saw reason and logic as God-like qualities that transcend base animality, and in this way, we humans are something much more divine and superior. Supposedly, by incorporating those divine qualities and fully engaging them, we would transcend predation and evil and be able to build a utopia. Then it started to backslide into, “ok, maybe not utopia, but this is the best we can do," or
"We have hospitals and air conditioning, now” type justifications.
But if we accept that we are a part of nature, we are invited to realize that if we continue to look at the natural world as a machine, we are dooming ourselves to become machines of our own making, full of logic, science, and reason, yet devoid of emotion, intuition, passion, and humanity.
Always love checking these out for finding new stuff. Thanks so much for putting these together!
Welcome! Thanks for creating good things to share!
…raffi an absolute scourge to sound…
Ugh, I used to think so, too. But now, like the scent of garbage that you can no longer smell…it just puts me to sleep.
…don’t raffi and drive…