This post was written by Mark Hansard on July 21, 2007
In my second post on Julie Reuben’s The Making of the Modern University, I described her observation that the acceptance of Darwinism ushered in a new philosophy of science and resulted in rancorous conflict between science and religion. The uneasy truce that resulted was to teach religion instead of teaching theology in the modern university. In chapter 3 of her book, “The Open University,” Reuben describes the philosophy of education that resulted from the new philosophy of science.
This new educational philosophy, according to Reuben, was an emphasis on the new science as a way to teach students how to think. Thus, every student was to learn “habits associated with the progressivist conception of science….openness to new ideas, reluctance to accept opinions on authority, and interest in empirical verification? (65). That is, every discipline in the new university was “scientized” and “empiricized” as a way to help students to learn to think. This new scientific emphasis unified the modern research university around a method rather than a core curriculum that had unified the older, college model. The “open university,” then, was a university that pursued new ideas unfettered by Christian theology and verified with as much scientific and empirical precision as possible.
Two other changes occurred to bring about the “open university.” First, since the core curriculum was abandoned and it was impossible to require students to learn something in every subject, electives were emphasized as a way to broaden the number of disciplines taught and allow for depth and specialization in more fields than before. Thus it was left to students to choose which subjects they wanted to study. Note that the unity of knowledge in the university was lost. One could now be considered “educated,” but not be required to know a certain subject(s).
Second, for the first time research was emphasized as the priority for the professor. The student was to learn the importance of research because the professor modeled this in the university. A corollary to the new research emphasis was academic freedom, the freedom to pursue research and ideas unrestricted by dogmatism or creed. An emphasis on tolerance was a logical outcome, since every researcher was free to pursue her ideas, and they would be accepted with the proper amount of empirical evidence.
Notice that the new educational philosophy rejected authority as a source of knowledge, and emphasized academic freedom as the other side of the coin. Since professors were freed from ecclesiastical authority, they could pursue whatever research they wanted. Clearly this emphasis is still with us today. But should the Christian reject ecclesiastical authority or Biblical authority outright? Isn’t part of walking the Christian life placing ourselves under the authority of Christ and the Church? What does this mean, then, for academic freedom and the Christian? I am not sure I have the answer, but I wonder if we think of the two sides of this coin as incompatible not because they really are, but because historically that is the way it worked out in the 19th century. Could it be that the conflict between science and religion has narrowed our view so that we assume submission to authority and academic freedom don’t go together? For example, could we pursue our research unfettered, and then submit the results to the Lord and to his Church? What would that look like in your discipline? Can you think of other ways to pursue both?
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This post was written by Mark Hansard on July 9, 2007
In my last post on Julie Reuben’s The Making of the Modern University, I described Reuben’s view that the 19th century belief academics held in the “unity of truth” was obliterated by the advent of Darwinism and the subsequent demise of natural theology. In chapter 2 of her book, “Science and Religion Reconceived,” Reuben explores the effort, in the 30 years after Darwin’s Origin of Species, to harmonize Darwinism with Christian theology in order to maintain the unity of truth and the integration between science and theology that had reigned in natural theology for so many decades.
What is fascinating about Reuben’s account is that the unity of truth was not immediately abandoned, nor was it believed that science and theology were irreconcilable. Instead, an eventual failure to harmonize the two to the satisfaction of both parties eventually led to the abandonment of theology in favor of teaching religion in universities instead.
According to Reuben, Darwinism brought with it a new, revolutionary view of science that viewed scientific knowledge as imperfect but progressive, always seeking to correct itself through further research and experiment. The new science relied on hypotheses, theories, even imagination as it attempted to explain the world, and a good scientific theory would have practical, measurable results. This was opposed to the previous Baconian view of science that viewed the scientific enterprise as purely inductive, generalizing from meticulous observation to scientific laws. Scientific truths under Baconianism consisted of the certainty of memorized lists of static classifications. Baconian science fit well with natural theology because the scientific laws implied a law-giver. Thus, when theologians attacked Darwinism, they often did so on the basis that it was unscientific because it did not follow Baconian method. But the new view of science eventually won out, and by the 1890’s, very few scientists were Baconians.
The triumph of this new philosophy of science precipitated a crisis regarding how to reconcile Christian theology with Darwinism and thus maintain the unity of truth that the old natural theology had held together. Scholars struggled to reconcile Darwinism and Christianity in a way that would maintain the authority and value of both. Some argued for “separate spheres” of knowledge, in which scientists studied the natural world and theologians studied the supernatural world (sound familiar?). In order to maintain this distinction, some argued that much of the Bible was figurative and not literal, thus it expressed spiritual truths through myth. Others claimed that if theologians would just “give up their dogmatism” and adopt an “openness of scientific inquiry,” the conflict between science and theology would go away. The growing number of agnostics argued that theology dealt with an “unknowable, mysterious power” that science could not study. But few scholars on either side bought into the separate spheres talk. Conservative theologians thought it denigrated traditional theology, while scientists thought it unnecessarily treated scientific theories which dealt with unobservable phenomena as out of bounds.
Eventually scientists came to view theology as a meddlesome interloper who made a priori pronouncements about truth that simply got in the way of free inquiry and scientific advancement. Theology would have to be abandoned if the new, modern university founded upon the progressive philosophy of science would be allowed to pursue scientific research unfettered. But how could this be done, while maintaining the importance of Christianity? According to Reuben, the solution of scholars and administrators “was to distinguish theology, defined as a mode of inquiry and a set of doctrines, from religion, which was left largely undefined as sentiment, experiences, ritual, and ethical values” (57). Thus, universities abandoned the teaching of theology in favor of religion in an attempt to allow science unrestricted horizons to pursue, while allowing Christianity to maintain its importance in university life. Curiously, it was thought that applying the scientific method to the study of religion would strengthen, not weaken, Christian thought and moral virtue.
But exactly the opposite occurred. Notice what had been lost. Theology is a knowledge tradition, which purportedly carries authority because it consists of truth claims that carry weight in describing the real world. However, in teaching religion, the knowledge conveyed was not about doctrines of God, man and salvation, but instead a set of propositions about what religious people believed, how they worshipped. In short the study of religion conveyed knowledge about how religious people acted apart from asking the question of whether their beliefs were true. Theological knowledge, and with it moral knowledge, was permanently lost. Instead of strengthening Christianity with science, the new religious studies departments actually weakened Christianity by taking away its authority, an authority that is based upon knowledge. Not surprisingly, administrators could not get students to be interested in their new religion classes.
What can we learn from this? While this is an obviously complex subject, in my view at least two observations are in order. First, it is imperative that we view theology as a knowledge tradition if the secularization of the modern university is to be reversed. We can help bring this about simply by treating theology as if it constitutes knowledge, and pursuing our research accordingly. Second, we need to understand that when we advocate the integration of theology with research on the modern campus, some scholars familiar with the history of science will bridle, assuming that we are advocating a return to ignorant 19th century views of science and outdated models of how universities ought to be run. We need to reassure such colleagues that we are not advocating an overthrow of the research model of the university, nor are we advocating a return to now discredited scientific views. Instead, we are simply asserting that, in the modern research university, there ought to be room for Christian scholarship which views theology as knowledge, and even allows moral wisdom to have the authority of knowledge behind it.
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This post was written by Mark Hansard on May 29, 2007
I have begun reading Julie Reuben’s The Making of the Modern University, and Reuben’s book (so far) is a fascinating look at the secularization of the university in the 19th century. The book is based on insights from the sociology of knowledge, thus it is really a historical study of the sociology of the secularization as it occurred.
The first chapter, entitled “The Unity of Truth,” explains the educational philosophy of the early 19th century, and how it fell apart near the end of that century. What caught my eye was the robust view of knowledge that professors and university presidents believed at that time. According to Reuben, they believed not only that all knowledge in different fields could form a coherent whole, but also that its pursuit would lead to a good and more virtuous life. All knowledge led to better action. In fact, she says, university leaders at that time believed that the “the good, the true, and the beautiful were interconnected, and that successful education promoted all three together” (12). All knowledge inevitably lead to worship of God and an understanding of his wisdom.
Part of this 19th century construct was natural theology, which in this case was not merely the admission that design was detectable in nature, thus pointing to a Creator. It consisted of stronger claims such as: the harmony of nature reflected God’s wisdom, that the more we understand of nature the more we can understand God’s character, and that, as one professor put it, “the knowledge of God, derived from the study of nature, is adapted to add greatly to the impulsive power of conscience” (20). In other words, a study of nature would strengthen virtue in the student.
This view of natural theology was of course obliterated with the Darwinian revolution, and threw universities into a crisis of what sort of educational philosophy they would now embrace. Darwin highlighted the view that nature was “red in tooth and claw,” a savage contest in which only the fittest survive. It was difficult to see the beauty and harmony in such a struggle. Thus, natural theology was dead, and the idea of the unity of truth with it.
Certainly, the 19th century view of natural theology was incorrect, because it didn’t take into account all of what was observable in nature. There is, of course, much disharmony in nature, and it is no doubt a huge exaggeration to say that we could understand moral truths and God’s character from nature (it seems that the Fall, in such a system, is forgotten. And it’s important to note that, in rejecting this view of natural theology, it isn’t necessary to conclude all natural theological arguments are untrue).
Yet, I can’t help thinking that somehow, too much was thrown away. We no longer have “universities” in the sense of a unity of truth coming from a diversity. We really have “diversities,” plain and simple, in which the ideas taught in most departments contradict the ideas taught in others. There is no coherent educational philosophy today that unifies the departments together as a whole.
But even more serious is the loss of belief that moral knowledge is possible. There is no wisdom (in the ancient sense which Plato and Aristotle discussed) in the universities today, because there is no way to know what the good life is, how life ought to be lived. Such things, since they no longer constitute part of the curriculum, have simply been lost. Is it any wonder there is so much moral confusion among us?
I do not pretend to have the remedy to this situation, as complex as it is. Clearly there are many parts to a solution. But it does seem to me that part of the solution is taking Scripture seriously in the integrative task. If Christian thought doesn’t constitute knowledge, how is it ever to be taken seriously in the academy? If we don’t do something, who will?
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This post was written by Mark Hansard on April 10, 2007
What are the implications of Huxley’s Brave New World for academia, as we see aspects of his utopian (actually dystopian) society sprouting in our culture? In Part 2, I mentioned that our increasingly private virtual worlds are separating us from the real world and each other, as well as exacerbating the idea that one cannot know truth. In Part 1, I mentioned that the free market is pushing genetic engineering into the forefront.
In a post this short, all I can do is briefly suggest areas for further thought in which teaching and research might have an impact on these ideas currently germinating in the culture.
First, it seems to me that there are several things Christian professors might do to stem the tide of virtual worlds and confusion about truth. One is that we ought to demonstrate by our words and actions in the classroom that we believe truth exists and is knowable. Here I am speaking not simply of Christian truth, although that would be included, but the idea that truth in general is knowable and worth pursuing. Students should pick up from the way we teach and our assignments, that we believe most of our positions, whatever they are, constitute knowledge (not simply mere opinion). For example, when considering the question of whether Shakespeare actually wrote Shakespeare, we assume that there is an actual answer to this question, even if we are not sure what that answer is, and students would pick up on this.
In addition, it seems to me that the use of media in the classroom ought to be used thoughtfully and sparingly. For example, assuming that truth does exist and is knowable, we would want our students to be forced to think logically and critically during the semester, which requires time for reflection that is far away from media distractions. If we rely too heavily on Hollywood media in the classroom or in assignments, they will think emotively, not linearly in a way that is necessary for critical thinking and logical reflection (They would think emotively because most of the information they absorb from media is image based, not linearly or logically derived. It seems to me emotive thinking encouraged by image-based media is part of the “dumbing-down” of the culture). For example, we might be able to get students more interested course material if we made it available as MP3 files for their ipods (Princeton has recently experimented with this). If students listen to lectures or audiobooks, they are forced to think linearly as they process the information, just as they are when they read.
Finally, regarding genetic engineering, it seems clear that in many areas, the market is not going regulate itself regarding what is ethically desirable. Careful thought ought to be given to how much babies should be “designed,” if at all, given God’s personal creation of each individual in the womb (Psalm 139:13-16. See more of our bioethics posts). It seems to me that, in our classroom teaching in genetics and bioengineering, the ethical issues ought to be raised and perhaps discussed and debated among students, at the very least. Perhaps we could carefully and thoughtfully interject our own thoughts on the ethics of such practices for the students’ benefit, once we have thought them through.
No doubt there are many more implications of Huxley’s book for academia than are mentioned here. What are other ways that a “Brave New World” could be avoided?
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This post was written by Mark Hansard on February 26, 2007
You may have heard that recently Harvard University decided to revamp its “core curriculum,” a set of subjects that all undergraduates are required to study. In October, a course entitled “Faith and Reason” was proposed as part of the curriculum. The course would study, among other things, “both local and global issues involving religious faith…to help students become more informed and reflective citizens,” according to an article in Newsweek. Sounds like something we would propose.
But, according to the Newsweek piece, the science faculty at Harvard shot it down (the final decision on the curriculum was subject to a vote by the faculty). Newsweek linked this animosity among scientists to a recent study which showed their anger regarding how little of the public believe in evolution.
So, Steven Pinker, a psychology professor at Harvard, writes, in an editorial in the Harvard Crimson:
“The juxtaposition of the two words makes it sound like ‘faith’ and ‘reason’ are parallel and equivalent ways of knowing, and we have to help students navigate between them. But universities are about reason, pure and simple. Faith—believing something without good reasons to do so—has no place in anything but a religious institution, and our society has no shortage of these. Imagine if we had a requirement for ‘Astronomy and Astrology’ or ‘Psychology and Parapsychology.’”
Of course, if “faith” were actually “believing something without good reasons to do so,” then it wouldn’t belong in such a course (it would certainly fit in a sociology course which studies why people have religious beliefs, as Pinker points out). After all, higher education is really about imparting knowledge (not belief), and knowledge is based on reason. Most philosophers would agree that if you do not have reasons for a belief, you don’t have knowledge (on the traditional view that knowledge is “justified true belief”). So, we can agree with Pinker that only knowledge should be imparted to students.
But notice that Pinker does not argue for his position that faith is “believing something without good reasons to do so.” He merely states it, as if it is patently obvious and without rational dissent. But this simply demonstrates that Pinker’s position, while eloquent, is uneducated. He is ignorant of church history, of Scripture, of literary history. This is not surprising. Most of us are woefully uneducated in Western history since it has fallen on hard times, and, after all, who has time to study such things when our field of specialization demands such rigorous attention?
But we must understand that for centuries, church leaders argued that faith and reason go together. They argued that “faith” is simply a word for “trust,” and we trust things that we have reasons to trust. This idea is certainly born out in Scripture in places like 2 Peter 1:16, “We did not follow cleverly invented stories when we told you about the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses to his majesty.” This, of course, is a reassurance to the reader that there is eyewitness evidence of His “power and coming.” In other words, it is claimed to be a rational position to hold.
I applaud Harvard’s adherence to a “core curriculum.” Very few universities have a standard at which they can measure whether graduating students are truly educated in the classical sense. But I believe Pinker’s objections are less rationally based than based on a stereotype and a resulting fear. The stereotype is that religious believers are ignorant barbarians who want to take civilization back to the Stone Age. The fear is that they will.
This post was written by Randy Newman on December 31, 2006
Four blogs all on just one book? And a book of only 144 pages? You might be thinking that you no longer need to read The Decline of the Secular University, if you’ve tracked with me thus far. I hope you won’t come to that conclusion. C. John Sommerville’s book, even though brief, has much wisdom between its covers and can prompt many conversations. Better still, it can promote a great deal of redemptive action on the part of Christian professors and students.
As I mentioned in a previous blog, this book is not The Decline and Fall of the Secular University. All hope is not lost. In fact, this book offers an optimistic vision for the future well worth prayerful consideration.
In the final chapter, A Vision of the Future, Sommerville says, “I invite you to imagine universities that are incidentally secular in the sense that religion doesn’t rule, but not officially secularist in the sense that religion is ruled out: universities whose goal is not to impose a privileged viewpoint but to understand all viewpoints that are able to win a hearing� (p. 143).
Let’s dissect that a bit. Ponder each component just for a moment:
• universities where religion doesn’t rule
• not officially secularist so religion is not ruled out
• whose goal is not to impose a privileged viewpoint
• to understand all viewpoints able to win a hearing
Do any of these descriptions fit your current situation?
He pleads for institutions to remain true to their history and give more than lip service to values of open mindedness and free inquiry. If universities resist some disturbing trends and hold fast to the concept of a “marketplace of ideas,� they can return to former greatness and cultural influence.
At the same time, he calls Christians to “be smarter about the way they present their beliefs if they want to make them relevant� (p. 144). Isn’t that a mouthful! I can envision hours of stimulating discussion by Christian faculty and students on what this might look like.
If you are in a position of leadership of a Christian faculty group on your campus, I recommend Sommerville’s book for reading and reflection over your semester break. Then, lead a discussion of these ideas at the beginning of next semester. With this kind of framework, such a faculty group can truly serve as salt and light and a redemptive force in the academy.
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This post was written by Randy Newman on December 15, 2006
All of John Sommerville’s The Decline of the Secular University, is tremendously valuable for Christian academicians. But perhaps the substantive heart of this concise book is the section highlighting the university’s struggle with religion. Chapter 4, “Trouble Eliminating Religion” and Chapter 5, “Trouble Judging Religions,” dare to penetrate past the surface of today’s almost thoughtless dismissal of religion on secular campuses. Three conclusions bear consideration.
First, by way of definition, Sommerville counters what he calls, “the habit of seeing religion as a collection of doctrines,� and asks us to see it as, “a whole perspective or way of thinking.� This leads to an important conclusion, “that we recognize the quasi-religious nature of what we like most about the university ideal.� (p. 47)
He is simply appealing to a sense of consistency. “Advocating that the university open itself to religious voices is bound to seem alarming. But this might make less difference than we think, since we maintain so many religious assumptions.� (p. 48)
I think this is such an important point for challenging the status quo in academia. A set of naturalist blinders has been on for so long that to suggest the very religiosity of the secular mindset seems, at first, to be absurd. But this is an important starting point for a discussion that must get “unstuck� if we’re to see the university move forward. This line of pre-evangelism is essential.
Secondly, he argues that religion, as he has defined it, is not the enemy of diversity and tolerance but, ironically, their champion. As many others have seen (e.g. Stanley Fish) the increased student demand for courses from a religious perspective and the secular university’s embarrassing intolerance of religion combine for either a recipe for disaster or a new openness that honest academicians should welcome. He beefs up his point with the historical observation that secularists have not always been so close-minded as they have become in recent times.
Thirdly, a rare perspective indeed, is his willingness to unmask the secularists’ marginalization of religion as immature and anti-academic. Many professors abandoned the faith of their childhood in their childhood and have concluded that faith is childish. This is an unfair straw man and Sommerville models a gracious way of exposing this fallacious reasoning.
My highlighter got the greatest workout on page 58, where he imagined a very different picture.
“…try to imagine a scenario in which the public knew that universities were respectful of religious thinkers. It might then be familiar with the names of theologians like Niebuhr, Tillich, Tracy, and Urs von Balthasar, and perhaps even with ideas they were associated with. Churches themselves would take the intellectual dimension of their faith more seriously….American society might have more intellectual substance, if children did not have to wait so long to be challenged to think.�
Sadly, he muses, “This may be one area of American life in which university intellectuals are offering leadership, in convincing us that religion has no intellectual dimension.�
I’ll share one more set of observations in my next blog, the end of this series. But there is much more worth envisioning and pursuing on the mere 144 pages of this important book.
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This post was written by Randy Newman on December 6, 2006
C. John Sommerville’s The Decline of the Secular University, raises more questions than it answers – and that is by design. The University of Florida historian wanted to promote discussion among Christian academicians more than settle issues that need vigorous debate. What some have called a weakness of the book, the failure to resolve tensions, may also be considered a great strength.
This short book could be the basis for an entire semester’s worth of discussions at Christian faculty fellowship meetings. Consider these eight brainstorm-starters posed in the opening pages of the book:
(He introduces this list with these words: “My thesis in what follows is, first, that the secular university is increasingly marginal to American society and, second, that this is a result of its secularism. In effect, I mean, that questions that might be central to the university’s mission are too religious for it to deal with.� p. 4-5)
1) What is the status of the concept of the human today; have we become unable to justify a distinction between humans and all other life-forms?
2) Doesn’t professional education, which attracts the vast majority of our students, always relate to a view of the human?
3) How should we judge between religions, in a day when those differences are clearly becoming more upsetting to the world? Why do universities seem determined to ignore the differences and insinuate a moral equivalency?
4) Why are we afraid of requiring the study of what used to be called “Western Civilization�? Should multiculturalism trump an understanding of the forces, including religious forces, that have shaped us, so that we don’t understand ourselves?
5) Is there really a philosophical justification for the fact/value dichotomy, which was the keystone of secularism throughout the last century?
6) How does the university justify the moralizing that still dominates the humanities subjects, having given up acknowledged moral judgment?
7) Isn’t it time to begin studying about secularism, instead of just indoctrinating students in it, as we now do?
8) Why is intellectual fashion replacing reasoned argument in the university itself?
If you’re planning now to start, renew, or continue a Christian faculty fellowship next semester, Sommerville’s work could be a stimulating and valuable syllabus.
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This post was written by Randy Newman on November 30, 2006
C. John Sommerville, Professor Emeritus of history at the University of Florida, has written this important and excellent book (titled above) which deserves serious consideration by Christians called to the academic world.
After a long career in the university and with an obvious heart for its wellbeing, Sommerville evaluates factors that have contributed to the decline of the institutions he loves. The overall tone is one of concern rather than alarm, in contrast to so many other writers’ tirades. He shares an insiders’ observations and a historians’ interpretations with a note of sadness rather than anger. His thorough investigation with many illustrations builds a case that enlists our emotional (if not active) support.
Despite the title’s “decline� there is an element of hope. This is not the decline and fall of the secular university.
He goes after current topics that dominate the landscape of many campuses and tries to offer alternatives to prevailing, often unquestioned, assumptions.
Chapters are devoted to the “trouble� of defining the human, maintaining the fact/value dichotomy, eliminating religion, and judging religions. He looks at disturbing trends in the hard sciences (a trend toward “scientism�), the social sciences (teaching secularism instead of teaching about secularism), and the humanities. A separate chapter is devoted to history, as a case study of the problems. Because this is Sommerville’s field, he has the authority to expose the problems he’s witnessed over 30+ years.
One insight worth pondering is how universities used to play a major influential role in society at large. Today, our culture is most shaped by Hollywood, television, popular music, and other “lite� institutions.
For example, presidents used to select their cabinet members from the halls of academia. Today, those posts are filled from the business, military, or other worlds.
Painfully, Sommerville begins his book with these words: “I am asking you to consider a very odd notion: the irrelevance of the secular university in America….Consider: if universities are offering political leadership, why has there been a drift to the political right in this country?…If universities are exercising cultural leadership, why do they seem more attentive to pop culture than to high culture they were nurtured in?…If universities are offering scientific leadership, why do they mainly hire their labs out to government and business, with the goal being patents? If they are offering social leadership, why don’t professors dominate the talk shows that try to embody our ‘public opinion’?…Why are they only maintaining booths in the intellectual marketplace rather than providing leadership of any kind?� (p. 3).
I’ll share more of my observations in upcoming blogs. I recommend Sommerville’s timely work. Perhaps this could be put on your Christmas wish-list. It’s small enough to be a stocking stuffer.
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This post was written by Matt Bazemore on November 15, 2006
An additional component that is included in the structure of the person is the deontologic component. This component refers to the fact that good, bad, right or wrong are assigned to at least some of the experiences that are continually incorporated into the structure of the person. I say “some� for the reason that I am not ready to claim that all experiences, beliefs, or desires have a moral quality assigned. If a moral quality has been assigned to at least some beliefs or experiences, then there is some integration of the moral faculty with the other faculties of the person.
For instance, let us say that a student hears an idea, B. Upon hearing it, the content of B is then incorporated into the Belief-Desire set. B may give rise to a positive, negative, or an indiscernible affect given the relations of B to the individual’s Belief-Desire structure at that time. Moral qualities are also assigned in this acquisition which could be expressed in the proposition, “This idea is good/bad.� I take this to be a plausible picture of the educational process in which a moral quality is assigned to an acquired idea. This occurs because every individual soul is an integrated whole (see part 1).
My larger point of why the Academic-Professional Model is deficient is hopefully made clear from this discussion. The A-P Model does not view the student as an integrated person. If lectures, assignments, and curricula are structured for the sole purpose of acquiring propositional knowledge, then that approach does not address the whole person. Class time becomes more of indoctrination than actual learning. Students passively take in what the teacher says with no reflection on how that information shapes them as a human being. In other words, there are larger things occurring in the individual in the educational process. This has implications for what kind of people universities are producing.
This also has implications for the task of integrating a Christian world view with one’s field. If the spiritual faculty is a faculty of the soul, and it is integrated with the mind along with the rest of the soul, then intellectual beliefs and religious beliefs can be integrated. This assumes that religious beliefs address the spiritual faculty of the person, and intellectual beliefs (those dealing with one’s academic field) address the mind of the person.
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