Hello, and welcome to On Learning, a newsletter of explorations and wonderings, sometimes whimsical and other times rigorous, about what it takes for learning matter.
Thanks for taking the time to read and think about what I offer.
Today, a short provocation open to all subscribers that builds on last week’s post about flow.
I was once a fortunate man but at some point fortune abandoned me.
But true good fortune is what you make for yourself. Good fortune: good character, good intentions, and good actions.
SOURCE: Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, V:37.
In the post about flow I discussed behaviourism as a contrast to flow, commenting that
“a behaviourist approach is concerned only with outward expressions of behaviour - what can be seen is what matters - whereas Csikszentmihalyi’s theory of flow is all about the importance of the inner life - that which can’t be seen.”
As we know, a behaviourist approach makes use of carrots and sticks to promote the desired behaviours. A learner should do what’s ‘right’ (which we can take to be a sign that they are good), regardless of how they feel.
Now, there is a level upon which this is ok. I think we can all relate to the fact that we have relied on this approach in our lives, especially those of us who are parents! I often find myself telling my kids to stop reading so they can get ready for school and following that up with a ‘stick’: You’ll get in trouble if you’re late! In those moments I’m not that concerned with the inner life of my kids.
This isn’t an either/or scenario, where one theory is bad and the other desirable. I think we’re talking about balance and weighting here.
Because, and this is where I think there is scope for interesting thought, what happens to kids whose lives are a continual stream of behaviourist interventions? For here’s the kicker: it’s the carrot (or stick) that does the work of ensuring they do the right thing when this is the case. If we extend that thought, we might say that it’s possible for the kid to be good without being good.
I think we can go a bit further and make a link between being good and the four cardinal virtues that many philosophers say are the foundation of a good life: prudence, justice, fortitude and temperance. These are values we find our way into through experience, through being active and participating in the world, through being reflective and learning from our missteps. It’s this process that helps us develop the harmony we need between our inner world - our character and intentions - and our actions - their outward expression - if we are to lead a virtuous life.
This notion of harmony is a key component of flow.
“People who learn to control inner experience will be able to determine the quality of their lives, which is as close as any of us can come to being happy. Therefore, happiness depends on inner harmony.”
SOURCE: Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, ‘Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience’
And so, I am suggesting that if one’s good actions are shaped by a behaviourist approach it’s the system that does the work of being good for them; all they have to do is be good. Sometimes there is a link between a person’s character and intentions and the behaviour desired by the system, but actually this doesn’t matter. What matters is what they do. Thus, the development of a virtuous life is inhibited because a behaviourist approach only concerns itself with good actions. A person’s good character or good intentions - both aspects of one’s inner life - are immaterial. Harmony between the inner and outer is not required.
So this is what I’m wondering, and what I’m offering to you as a provocation:
Is learning how to live a virtuous life learning that matters?
If so, what can you do in your practice to make your classroom or school a place where this happens?