Advancement of Learning: 5 key phases

How we improve the way we learn is vital to every aspect of life. If we accept everything without question, ignorance and mistakes will never be removed. If we reject ideas arbitrarily, we are just as likely to be mired in confusion and errors. For thousands of years, it was down to the ad hoc discovery or invention of the odd individuals, in those rare moments that such new thinking was not crushed by prevailing conventions or thoughtless leaders, that human knowledge was enhanced.

However, a momentous turning point in history came in 1605 when Francis Bacon published The Advancement of Learning, which put forward a new systematic approach to guide how we learn. It has three notable components: 

·      Learning should be supported as a cooperative and objective enterprise. Everyone with relevant ideas and evidence should be allowed to contribute without undue interference from others.

·      Claims, ideas, beliefs etc should be subject to appropriate testing with the help of accumulating evidence, experiments, and scrutiny; and what is provisionally acceptable is revisable if warranted by further findings. 

·      The quest for better understanding requires constant vigilance in the detection and exposure of fallacies, prejudices, deception, and dogmas. No claim can be asserted as immune from critical appraisal.

Through the 17^th century, the influence of these Baconian ideas grew in relation to natural philosophy (what would come to be called the physical sciences), cumulating in the establishment of the Royal Society, whose members such as Boyle, Hooke, and Newton, demonstrated how we could get to learn more about the world through open, empirical research rather than relying on ‘sacred’ texts or ancient sages.

In the second phase in the 18^th century, thinkers across Europe extended the approach to virtually every issue worthy of study – history, the laws, religion, morals, customs, society, economics, art, government – nurturing the Enlightenment ethos of learning by critical questioning, cooperative research, evidence seeking, and the presentation of new ideas not as eternal truths, but as the latest findings to guide us until/unless a more robust alternative is discovered (an approach encapsulated in the notion of a ‘fair trial’ with its emphasis on evidence, coherence and room for appeal).

In the third phase in the 19^th century, utilitarian-minded reformists began to examine the institutional arrangements for carrying out this approach to learning. In all areas where questions could be raised about the acceptability of a given claim, belief or judgement, how an institution was structured and operated could determine if those questions were dealt with in the experimental cooperative manner. This drove reforms that steered institutions – law courts, universities, the legislature, public health bodies, businesses, etc. – to check for unsubstantiated assumptions and adopt procedures to facilitate the assessment of what should or should not be accepted as correct in their respective work.

In the fourth phase, which came in the first half of the 20^th century, there was recognition that institutional reforms themselves were limited by wider societal factors such as public policies, power inequalities, and resource availability, and government action was needed to overcome a range of barriers and threats to cooperative learning. Progressive governments discovered how important it was to safeguard learning in the face of economic turmoil, the rise of fascist and communist oppression, the outbreaks of wars – by developing stronger democratic systems to protect their citizens and enable them to decide how to improve their wellbeing.

By late 20^th century, we entered the fifth phase with the growing realisation that forces inimical to cooperation were gathering strength to overturn the approach of cooperative learning. These enemies of learning used a mix of tactics – attacks on scientific expertise, defence of traditional dogmas, celebration of prejudices, spreading of lies and misinformation, promoting irrational claims, undermining learning as ‘elitist’ – to dupe people into rejecting evidence-based findings and embracing instead the deceitful agenda they offer. They were challenged by communitarians, civic republicans, and deliberative democrats, who made their case for more effective communication and education to raise our understanding and utilisation of cooperative learning. However, by early 21^stcentury, efforts to sustain the advancement of learning are becoming overshadowed by the rallying of right-wing ‘populists’ in weaponising fallacies and lies. 

Will there be a sixth phase when the culture of cooperative learning triumphs over the champions of deception?  Or are we slipping down the insidious slope that returns us to the dark ages of dogmas and ignorance?  It is down to us to take a stand.

To Lead or Not to Lead

Leadership, as much as love, preoccupied Shakespeare in his dramatic writings – most probably because the precarious state of Protestant England desperately needed good leadership to keep it safe from military attacks from abroad, and civil strife at home.

Interestingly, Shakespeare did not romanticise leadership as some wondrous quality of an idealised character. Instead, he drew from historical accounts of who had led well and who poorly, and developed an instructive conception of what would make a leader we should follow (and what should ring alarm bells).

Let us start with the negative things we should look out for.  For Shakespeare, the key problem is character weakness – the inability to hold true to what one has good reasons to commit oneself to. Lear might have been a good leader once, but with age, he became prone to losing his temper, falling for flattery, and handing over power to those who were the last people he should trust.  Othello was widely recognised as a noble and effective military leader, yet his susceptibility to jealousy opened him to easy deception by Iago, and he was all too ready to condemn Desdemona to death without checking out accusations with due attention. Macbeth was a loyal, respected warrior until obsessive ambition turned him into a usurper of the throne and murderer of children.

More illustrations are to be found with Hamlet, whose indecisiveness over what he should do for the sake of his family and country meant all was lost in the end; with Brutus, whose naïve reluctance to deal resolutely with Caesar’s supporter, Antony, as he did with Caesar himself, resulted in his failure to save the Roman republic; and Coriolanus, whose arrogance in thinking it beneath him to seek to engage the hearts and minds of the people in securing political power led to his humiliating downfall.

By contrast, good leadership is exemplified by a steadfastness in judging matters judiciously, forming plans with a careful understanding of what others are thinking, and executing them with resolve.  Look at how Octavius was presented in Julius Caesar and Antony and Cleopatra – calmly, quietly, he plotted his course to form tactical alliances and corner enemies. Ever focused on securing the support he needed to move towards his goal, he was the master of his emotions, never the other way round. Similarly, Prince Hal showed that to be serious in becoming a good leader as he ascended the throne as Henry V, he jettisoned his youthful rowdy sentiments and committed to exercising his duties with unwavering dedication.  Importantly, for both Hal and Octavius, they did not hesitate to part ways from people who were once close to them but could no longer be trusted (in the case of Falstaff and Antony respectively).

Good leadership is not just a matter for kings and emperors either. Portia is undoubtedly the most impressive character in The Merchant of Venice for her composure, clear thinking, and ability to take charge of the most challenging situations. Whether it was dealing with the suitors to her (and her inherited fortune), providing a haven to an eloping couple, or using her legal skills to save the life of the seemingly doomed merchant, Portia would navigate her way forward in a calm and informed manner, even as others felt there was no hope.

Under very different circumstances, Rosalind – in As You Like It – was banished with nothing but her wits to live on, and as she ventured into a land of strangers, swiftly took charge of every tricky situation that arose. Her ability to inspire confidence, to manage other people’s misunderstanding, and to bring about satisfactory outcomes renders her a natural leader others will follow. But lest we think it is charm and humour that hold the key, we should remember Paulina from The Winter’s Tale. She saw through the king’s absurd accusation against the queen, resolutely stood up for her, and guided the king through years of penance back to a possible reconciliation. Dour and firm, Paulina was another exemplar of leadership as determination informed by evidential assessment.

To lead well – Shakespeare tells us – keep in mind the concerns of others as well as those of one’s own, do not let emotions run wild, shun fears and temptations, check serious claims scrupulously, focus on the desirable outcomes, and act with clear resolve. 

Prithee render these essential requirements for every politician and CEO.