Every teacher’s least-favourite question is: ‘When are we going to use this in real life?’

The reason we hate this question is, of course, that we teach many things in school that do not have a practical purpose for most people. You don’t analyse the themes of Macbeth or learn calculus because you’re necessarily going to use them when you leave school. You learn these things because someone, somewhere, has decided that education has an inherent value, and that learning these things will enrich your life.
Whether they do enrich your life, well, is a different question. (I do quote Shakespeare almost daily, but I acknowledge I’m probably an outlier.)
Recently the Australian Curriculum Assessment and Reporting Authority (ACARA) — who you may know from such hits as NAPLAN and My School — has opened public consultation on the Australian Curriculum. This means, of course, that it’s time for another round in the Australian culture wars!
Federal Education Minister Alan Tudge has already raised concerns about what John Howard would call ‘black armband history’, as well as noting his confusion about changes to the maths curriculum. Tudge is no education expert, and while I trust the advice of educational professionals over a newly-appointed minister, there is no doubt that Tudge has power in this sphere.
The question being asked, however, is one that puts the cart before the horse. The question of ‘What do you want to see in the national curriculum?’ presupposes the answer to another question: What even is the purpose of schooling?
'Before we talk about what to teach, we have to take a step back and analyse what we actually want schools to be, and how we structure learning to achieve this.'
This is a question that seems simple on the surface, but if you ask half a dozen people you’ll probably get a dozen different answers. Many young adults, for example, complain about how education has not equipped them with life skills such as the ability to do their tax return, apply for a bank loan, or even write a CV. For a long time early years teachers have raised concerns about parents expecting schools to teach truly basic life skills, like toilet training. On the other hand, politicians are constantly bemoaning an alleged over-emphasis on the humanities, especially ‘identity politics‘ and ‘woke-ism‘, demanding a ‘back to basics‘ approach that instead focuses on the Three Rs and marketable STEM knowledge.
What we see here are points on a spectrum (or, more accurately, a six-dimensional Cartesian plane) of schooling purposes. On one end, we have the belief that school should be the primary place to equip students with practical life skills. On the other, education is a marketable product, where the primary virtue is that it strengthens the economy. Somewhere else in there is the idea that education for education’s sake has inherent value. These need not be diametrically opposed goals, of course, but the current structure of our schooling system does not really facilitate an integrated approach.
In recent months, discussions of consent in school have also been raised in the wake of Grace Tame’s appointment as Australian of the Year, and Brittney Higgins’ rape allegations against a former coworker in Parliament House (and let’s not even talk about the disastrous Milkshake Video). This adds another point to our tesseract of education policy, where schools are to teach not just legality but morality.
It’s no secret that the past few decades have seen an intensification of neoliberal rhetoric in education, usually at the expense of the social-democratic purposes of schooling. Whereas education was once primarily viewed as a social equaliser, much of the value of schools now lies — in the eyes of neoliberals — in the fact they produce human resources to pump into the market. When this is the case, critical thinking and morality are actually liabilities, not virtues. After all, it’s very inconvenient if we have citizens who can critically examine politicians, or question the morality of profit-maximising business practices.
Basically, it’s a mess. Schools have to be all things to all people, and subsequently end up disappointing everyone. It’s one of the reasons we are constantly hearing about an ‘overcrowded curriculum’.
So, before we talk about what to teach, we have to take a step back and analyse what we actually want schools to be, and how we structure learning to achieve this. As has been observed by many — such as the late great Sir Ken Robinson — our factory-style model of education is really no longer fit for purpose. Incremental change is just rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. Of course, actual reform would involve a monumental paradigm shift and a ground-up reworking of our education system. And who has time for future-proofing, when our neoliberal imperative focuses on short-term profit over delayed gratification?
That said, it’s not all doom and gloom. Despite what seems like the best efforts of successive governments, we have passionate and capable teachers working within this self-sabotaging system to produce students who are, for the most part, capable of functioning in society. After all, school graduates generally figure out their taxes, how to get jobs, how to apply for university and complete their civic duties. Furthermore, the outlook is hopeful, because despite the neoliberal push in schools, current school leavers still pursue the arts, engage in political movements and demonstrate a social conscience through community engagement.
Rebuilding schools from the ground up will take time, energy, and tremendous political will. In the meantime, we must consider allowing greater flexibility — particularly towards the end of secondary schooling — in allowing students to pursue their passions and interests (even if these do not align with the neoliberal goals of our politicians). Exploration of the arts and humanities must be promoted not just because they contribute to employability, but because they enrich our lives. And, of course, we must consider the fact that schools need strong vocational programs to cater to those for whom university or higher education is not a goal.
So while the kids are alright, our piecemeal approach to education policy is doing them no favours. We need a system that helps children develop into well-rounded adults, but we can’t do that if we cannot agree on what the end-goal of education should even be.
Tim Hutton is a teacher, masters student and freelance writer based in Brisbane. He writes on politics, education, media, societal issues, and the intersection of all of the above. His writing can be found at www.timhutton.com.au.
Main image: Primary school classroom (Taylor Wilcox/Unsplash)