Category: Blogposts

by Jeffrey Bond

Today we continue our series on the different methods of teaching.  Part I of Jeffrey Bond’s essay was posted yesterday, and Part III will follow tomorrow.
– The Editors

PART II

The Primary Mode: Tutorial

From the foregoing we conclude that the tutorial represents a sort of mean. It is a mean between the lecture and the seminar, one employing the strengths while avoiding the weaknesses of each.

Regarding strengths: with the lecture the tutorial shares the sine qua non of teaching, namely, that it is ordered not to opinion but knowledge. At the same time, however, the tutorial shares with the seminar the indirect method of teaching through questions compelling students to think for themselves. Regarding weaknesses: the tutorial avoids the passivity that lectures can engender. Yet it also prevents discussions from degenerating into irrelevance or merely verbal battles, as can easily happen in seminar.

One might object that the tutorial is really possible only when teaching on a one-to-one basis. It is true that in some respects this arrangement might seem ideal, especially for a gifted student who could proceed rapidly with a teacher undistracted by the difficulties of weaker students. Nonetheless, in certain respects a one-to-one relationship of teacher to student is less than ideal. There are genuine benefits to the intellectual life when a small group of minds consider together the same question. Not only do teacher and students experience the quest and acquisition of knowledge as a good that is common to all, but they also discover that the opinions, questions, and objections raised by others, even the less gifted, are instrumental to deepening their own understanding. Indeed in attempting to address positions set forth by classmates, students must articulate and refine the knowledge they have already come to possess in some measure.

Rather than impeding acquisition of knowledge, a small group of students is positively desirable inasmuch as students, guided by the tutor, work together to discover what is true. As students struggle with the tutor’s questions and their own differing views, they participate in their own learning. It is essential for the tutor, then, to encourage students to direct their arguments not just toward himself, but also toward each other. He must not intervene to do their thinking for them. Instead he must assist students to achieve knowledge for themselves. Only thus will students really see at all. From this it follows that, occasionally, the tutor must leave his students perplexed, in a condition Plato describes as the travail of psychic childbirth (Theaetetus 150b-151d).

From the foregoing we conclude that the tutorial mode is, all things considered, the best mode of teaching, and therefore it should be the primary mode of teaching at any liberal arts institution. One could object that the lecturer can be an equally effective teacher. Yet such an objection itself indicates the tutorial is best, and this especially inasmuch as a lecturer excels to the degree that he raises questions anticipatory of students’ objections. Further evidence of the superiority of the tutorial method is that, whenever appropriate, the tutor may employ the mode of either lecture or seminar. The reverse, however, is not true for the lecturer. He cannot equally employ the tutorial mode. As for the seminar, inasmuch as its proximate end is not knowledge but practice in discovering and expressing reasoned opinion, it is a mode of teaching in an analogous sense only.

The Auxiliary Modes: Lecture and Seminar

Despite the inherent weaknesses of lecture and of seminar, both should play a significant role in any liberal arts curriculum. One must often use the lecture method, for example, in the study of history because students generally cannot master all of the facts necessary to participate productively in a history tutorial or seminar. To compensate for the danger of passivity, however, these lectures should be followed by a question and answer period. In addition to formal lectures, an informal lecture mode should be judiciously employed in any tutorial or seminar when the difficulty of the subject matter requires it.

The seminar method should be used primarily in a class by that name. Such would be the sole place in the curriculum where a course is named not by a definite subject matter but by the methodology employed. This indicates, again, how the seminar is not strictly speaking ordered to knowledge. It is instead ordered to developing habits requisite to discovering and expressing reasoned opinion. Although both tutorial and seminar can be said to belong to the genus of teaching, the specific difference between them is the end for which they are employed. This difference in end is reflected in both the choice of texts and the more extended length of the readings for the seminar classes. While the texts of the seminar should normally be Great Books, these are nonetheless books from which a teacher would not intend to harvest a definite body of knowledge. Rather these books would be used both to sow and to fertilize the seeds of knowledge. From this less restricted end it follows that in seminar longer readings would not only be permissible but indeed desirable and normative.

In tutorials, on the other hand, one would generally read shorter selections from which to gather a definite conceptual harvest. Indeed, tutorials require that students not leave the classroom each day with their minds full of mere opinion about the subject matter. Inasmuch as a sure grasp of these arts is essential to progressing intellectually, the teacher must more firmly direct the tutorial than the seminar.

Here we note that the seminar develops skills in reasoning and exposition, and does so in part to improve the quality of student participation in the tutorial. If a student is not given the wider forum of the seminar for developing such skills, we cannot expect him to express himself well in the tutorials. There will therefore be times when, if the material allows it, the tutorial teacher conducts class more in the manner of a seminar. Conversely, there will be times in seminar when the difficulty of the material compels the teacher to adopt a tutorial mode.

Although the tutorial and seminar differ in kind (insofar as the former aims at knowledge and the latter at reasoned opinion), from the perspective of students and observers there may appear to be a difference in degree only. This misperception arises because, while the tutorial and seminar differ formally, they are quite alike materially. Both employ the same elements of Great Books, a teacher posing questions about these books, and students in conversation seeking answers to such questions. And indeed, with regard to these material elements the difference between seminar and tutorial is only one of degree: in seminar the readings are longer and the students give greater direction to the discussion; in tutorial the readings are shorter and the discussion is guided more closely by the questions of the tutor. Nevertheless, with regard to their respective formal ends there is a difference not of degree but of kind. In the tutorial the teacher questions for the sake of helping students see what they must see. In the seminar he questions for the sake of helping students practice what they must practice. In the tutorial the teacher strives for knowledge. In the seminar he strives for rational habits and opinions propaedeutic to such.

Given this difference between tutorial and seminar, it is appropriate whenever possible for a tutorial to conclude with a resume, given by either student or tutor, which draws together the key points of the discussion. If the discussion has not led to definite conclusions, the resume should at least delineate the main problem as it stands and the most reasonable solutions thus far proposed. Either during or after the resume, the tutor will often find it necessary to give a certain polish to the conclusions that are reached so that the students leave the classroom with a clear grasp of what has been achieved as well as what has been left undone.

(To be continued.)

by Jeffrey Bond

The practice of teaching is without a doubt the guiding compass of human society.  Nothing else so reliably and powerfully governs the trajectory of a community as the formation of its young people and the determination of their habits of thought.  This is why Plato, in Book VIII of his Republic, identifies a failure to educate properly as the root cause of the degradation of the just city.  Today at the Josias, we offer the first in a series of posts on the different methods of teaching.
– The Editors

To educate man is the art of arts,
for he is the most complex and mysterious of all creatures.
–St. Gregory Nazianzen

Concerning teaching, Catholic educators must take their bearings from St. Paul’s exhortation to Timothy:

I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: preach the word, be urgent in season and out of season, convince, rebuke, and exhort, be unfailing in patience and in teaching. For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own likings, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander into myths (4:1-4).

With the above in mind, we wish to explain our understanding of teaching and the employment of its different modes. In the first part of this essay we will explain and distinguish the lecture, tutorial, and the seminar modes of teaching. In the second part we will set forth the way in which these different modes should be used according to their relative strengths and weaknesses. In the third and final part we will present guidelines concerning the relationship among teacher, students, text, and truth; and we will do so in light of certain methodological problems characterizing the different modes of teaching.

PART I: THE DIFFERENT MODES OF TEACHING

The Lecture

The word “lecture” comes from the Latin lectus, the perfect passive participle of the Latin verb legere, which means “to pick out” or “to read.” A lecture, then, is literally something “picked out” or “read.” Certainly it is true that lectures are often read rather than delivered from memory or given extemporaneously; but whether or not a lecture is actually read, it always has the quality of something read insofar as the lecturer must “pick out” in advance the material he intends to present in an uninterrupted manner. In fact the lecturer must carefully select beforehand not only what he will say but also the order in which he will say it. If the lecturer desires to have his students come to the knowledge that he himself possesses, he must prepare his material in such a way as to lead his students through the steps that their minds must follow. Hence the lecturer must consider beforehand how to lead his students from what they already know to what they do not yet know. If the lecturer is to teach, that is, if he is to cause knowledge to come to be in the souls of his students, he must reproduce the proper order of learning by which he himself discovered what he previously did not know. As St. Thomas Aquinas explains, “one person is said to teach another inasmuch as, by signs, he manifests to another the reasoning process which he himself goes through by his own natural reason” (De Magistro).

The virtue of the lecture mode is that it allows the teacher to lead his students systematically from ignorance to knowledge. Because the lecturer can order his arguments in advance and choose appropriate illustrations, he can demonstrate the clarity and internal beauty of a given subject matter. This in turn can attract and order the minds of listeners who thereby develop the intellectual habit of carefully following the reasoning of another.

The primary weakness of the lecture mode is that the teacher—even if he himself possesses perfect knowledge—cannot anticipate all of the problems and questions his students may have. At best he can set forth the common obstacles that a student may face. This is the manner in which St. Thomas Aquinas proceeds, outlining objections to his own position as prelude to resolving a given question.

This being said, it remains that a student’s difficulties may be quite idiosyncratic. Indeed, a student may not see how his own objection was in fact raised and addressed by the lecturer himself. Difficulties of this sort may thus prevent a student from perfectly following the reasoning of the lecturer. Furthermore, once the chain of reasoning has been broken for a student, he can at best seize upon only the lecturer’s conclusions. He will not have grasped the arguments upon which those conclusions rest. As a result the student may indeed have acquired right opinion, but he will not have achieved genuine knowledge. Moreover, rather than develop proper docility toward the teacher – and especially toward the truth – the student may instead succumb to a certain passivity, one disposing him to shirk an active role in his own learning. This danger is especially evident in our own times when the habit of passivity is daily fostered through television, movies, video games, and spoon-fed “education.”

There is another serious weakness in the lecture mode of teaching. Even if the student has followed the lecturer’s reasoning, the lecture mode itself cannot compel the student to establish the lecturer’s knowledge as his own. True, the best students may rehearse the reasoning process for themselves and for others. Yet it would be naive to expect most students to do likewise. Even should some attempt such, there is no guarantee that someone will be present to correct mistakes or challenge arguments. In sum, insofar as reasoning and exposition belong to practical knowledge, the lecture mode does not guarantee that a student will subsequently reason well by himself, let alone explain his reasoning to others.

The Tutorial

The word “tutorial” comes from the Latin tutor. The latter means “watcher, protector or defender,” and is itself related to the verb tueor, “to see, to look or gaze upon, to behold, to regard, to consider, to examine.” Etymologically speaking, then, it is clear why—as opposed to the lecturer—the tutor has generally been understood to be a teacher working with one or a small number of students. If he is to “watch” or “consider” his students closely, the tutor cannot do so with large numbers. If he is to protect students from error, he must work with them as individuals and not as a crowd. That the tutor addresses fewer students than the lecturer, however, does not in itself distinguish him from the latter. After all, one can as easily lecture to few as to many. Nevertheless, by virtue of the smaller number of students in his charge, the tutor can consider a student’s opinions, questions, and objections as they arise. Hence, whereas the lecturer must “pick out” his material and order it prior to his lecture, the tutor is free from the beginning to question his students. This in turn allows for a more immediate and thorough grasp of what his students already know or do not know.

As previously noted, a lecturer can anticipate the opinions, questions, and objections of his audience. He can skillfully weave these into the fabric of his lecture. Nonetheless, though he may entertain a spontaneous question or two during the body of his address, the lecturer cannot remain in the lecture mode if he is perpetually open to interrupting questions. Indeed to the extent that he is open to interruptions, he is not lecturing. By contrast, from beginning to end the tutor operates according to a more informal give-and-take with his students. It is a give-and-take arising from the particular needs of the students themselves. This is so even when it is the tutor, rather than the students, who himself identifies those needs through astute questioning. Accordingly the tutor may move freely backward or forward on the path to knowledge according to the specific difficulties confronting his students.

In contrast, the lecturer cannot readily evaluate the particular needs of his audience, and this even if he periodically reminds his audience of what he has earlier concluded. At best he can speculate about when to repeat himself or when to clarify. When viewed in this light, the tutorial stands to the lecture as the spoken word to the written word. As Plato demonstrates in the Phaedrus, the spoken word can teach souls more perfectly because it can respond differently to different people, whereas the written word, when questioned, merely repeats itself over and over again (274c-278d).

True to the etymology of the name, then, the tutor is one who “looks at” and “examines” the student with respect to what the student knows and does not know. The tutor, like the lecturer, must know the subject he teaches; but the tutor does not unfold this knowledge in a formal and direct manner. The tutor is therefore free to engage his students at their own level. This is essential: the teacher is no more able to transfer knowledge into the minds of his students than is the physician to transfer health into the bodies of his patients. The physician’s art must imitate and assist nature’s own healing processes. Likewise, because the mind is ordered by nature to truth just as the body is ordered by nature to health, the teacher must imitate and assist the natural processes of reasoning. To quote again St. Thomas Aquinas: “Just as the doctor is said to heal a patient through the activity of nature, so a man is said to cause knowledge in another through the activity of the learner’s own natural reason, and this is teaching” (De Magistro) (emphasis added). This being understood, we see that the tutor can assist nature more effectively than a lecturer. The tutor can examine his “patients” on a case-by-case basis. Hence, he can more easily determine their weaknesses and more easily apply fitting remedies.

Like the physician, the best way for a teacher to examine his students is by asking questions designed to expose common problems. By asking his students questions rather than presenting answers, the tutor’s mode of teaching—as compared to the lecturer’s—is indirect. The tutor’s questions compel students to exercise their own minds and to reason by their own lights. Here it helps to recall the Platonic notion that education does not consist in bestowing intellectual vision so much as in “turning” the mind’s eye, namely, directing the mind’s eye toward reality or truth (Republic 518b-d). In his dialogues Plato also shows that this turning—literally a conversion—is achieved best through conversation. The tutor knows that his students share but do not yet clearly see the common notions about reality that are in all men. With skillful questioning he can help students grasp these fundamental notions, notions that are the starting points of all knowledge. By asking the right questions in the right order, the tutor can lead students to the knowledge of the arts and sciences grounded upon these starting points, or first principles.

Although the tutor proceeds in a less formal and direct manner than the lecturer, the tutor’s questioning-method is anything but random. Indeed his questions arise from knowing both the subject matter and, by means of his questions, his students’ intellectual condition. Stated otherwise, by so-to-speak directing indirectingly, the tutor himself is guided by the intrinsic order of the subject matter. In treating of the various arts and sciences he knows and proceeds according to what is antecedent and what is consequent.

The Seminar

The word “seminar” derives from the Latin seminarium, a seedbed. Hence a seminar is meant to be seminal with respect to learning. It contains and contributes “seeds” for fertilization and growth.

Here we note that, unlike the words “lecturer” and “tutor,” there exists no English word for the teacher who employs the seminar method. Indeed the word “seminarian” denotes not the teacher but the student. This etymological peculiarity indicates that the seminar method focuses upon the students while the teacher seeks not to engender knowledge but to prepare the ground thereof. This preparation in turn entails a more active exchange among the students themselves. It is an exchange wherein students struggle to uncover and express the principles and developments of knowledge.

Unlike the lecturer, the seminar teacher does not guide students by unfolding formally what he himself already knows. Neither does he, as the tutor does, closely question students to correct their thinking so that they may attain certain knowledge. Instead the seminar teacher encourages students to wrestle with fundamental problems, problems with which every student must struggle if he is to make a good beginning in any discipline. The seminar teacher therefore leads more by raising questions than by providing answers.

Again, as opposed to both the lecture and the tutorial, the proximate end of the seminar is not the acquisition of knowledge. Rather it is the development of habits requisite for discovering and expressing reasoned opinion. This is not to say that the seminar teacher and his students can be indifferent to knowledge. After all, one of the fundamental lessons students must learn from seminar is not to confuse verbal victory with knowledge of truth. This being said, it remains that in seminar genuine knowledge is an accidental outcome. The seminar’s essential purpose is to develop skills in reasoning and speaking, skills without which the student normally cannot progress in knowledge, whether this knowledge be of a general or specific kind.

From the perspective of the teacher, then, the seminar is a practical training ground for the three verbal arts which the Medievals called the trivium: grammar, logic, and rhetoric. And yet if the student’s training is to be meaningful, the material upon which he exercises his mind must be of the sort to prepare him eventually to acquire knowledge. The Great Books, about which we will have more to say, serve this purpose well. They serve it well because they effectively raise the questions every mind confronts in its search for wisdom.

If the primary weakness of the lecture is that it can instill passivity, the primary weakness of the seminar is that it can inspire students with a false sense of intelligence and intellectual progress. Moreover, because the seminar can dissolve readily into meaningless chat or merely verbal battle inspired by love of victory, it can lead frustrated students into misology; it can tempt them with hatred of argument or logos itself. This is a danger, grave and always present, about which Plato, in order to forestall the death of logos, has the soon-to-die Socrates warn us in the Phaedo (89d-91c). It is a danger the seminar teacher must always bear in mind.

(To be continued.)

Lamentably few Catholics today, outside of traditional circles, seem interested in reading Catholic Social Teaching or, better put, the Church’s social magisterium in holistic, continuous manner. Ideological fracturing within the Church has led various camps to adopt certain elements of Catholic Social Teaching for their own while discarding others which appear inconvenient to their oftentimes tendentious interpretations of the magisterium. In two earlier articles, one for the online venue Ethika Politika and another for The Angelus magazine, I shed critical light on the “hermeneutic of selectivity” which reigns supreme in contemporary discussions of Catholic Social Teaching. Although it is impossible to offer a clean taxonomy of the hermeneutic of selectivity, it typically appears in one of three forms:

Continue reading “A Reflection on St. Pius X and Contemporary Approaches to Catholic Social Teaching”

by HHG

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Although Jacobin was set up as a venue to critique the failures and mediocrity of the New Left, it is interesting to note how often Jacobin and its supporters fall into bourgeois platitudes. Thus, in commenting on the recent tragedy of the Charlie Hebdo case, Jacobin is reduced to platitudes such as:

Continue reading “Charlie Hebdo and the Illiberal Catholic”

The fire and zeal of my fellow contributor to The Josias, Joseph, should be commended. Reflecting on the recent dustup over First Things editor R.R. Reno’s joining the call for Catholic priests (and all Christian ministers) to “get out of the [civil] marriage business” (the so-called “Marriage Pledge”), Joseph shows deep concern that Catholics may be tacitly, if not explicitly, accepting the secular dogma of separation between Church and State which has been routinely condemned by the Church’s social magisterium. The crux of Joseph’s reflection appears to be found in the following paragraph:

Continue reading “Can Catholics Accept the “Marriage Pledge”? – A Reply”

First Things editor Rusty Reno has caused something of a stir this week with “A Time to Rend,” an article and pledge calling for Christian disengagement from the celebration of civil marriage.  Reno’s argument is that decades of civil attacks on the nature of marriage have perverted the civil meaning of marriage to the point that our duty to God demands a complete rejection of American civil marriage.  To sign a “marriage license” whose essence points to a reality fundamentally opposed to faith and morals gives scandal, so priests must cease to be ministers of “civil marriage”.

Continue reading “Can Catholics Accept the “Marriage Pledge”?”