Freedom and Education

Steven Clark2 said:Haha, so which books were on your shortlist? 😁 If you memorized them, we could just carry you around as a walking library! 😁 To be honest, when I first picked up this book, I thought it was an absolute slog—I don't think I've ever encountered anything more tedious. However, during my second pass, things started to click. Since I had to tackle it for a final English exam (back when I was still stuck in school, unfortunately), I ended up diving much deeper into certain themes and even wrote an essay on it. Given that all of this happened only about a month and a half ago, the details are still quite vivid in my mind. 😁 Especially that scene where Montag incinerates his boss with a flamethrower—do you have any idea how many times I had to re-read that part before I could actually believe what I was seeing? 😬

Oh, there were plenty—my memory is still decent enough. I used to daydream about owning entire collections. But honestly, it wasn't just academic; it was about love. I remembered things because I actually cared about them, not because I was drilling them into my brain through rote memorization. I knew every single one of Matoš's and Cesarić's poems, and a good chunk of Ujević's too. The Book of Ecclesiastes. Parts of Zarathustra. I was obsessed with anything expressive, anything poetic. To this day, I can still recite quite a bit by heart, even if my memory is starting to glitch a little thanks to getting older and some rather bad habits. Don't go thinking I'm some kind of walking encyclopedia, though.😁

ruggedraven36 said:By the way, since we’re already on the subject of upbringing and education—has anyone actually read Margaret Mead's "coming of age in Samoa"?

I only made it halfway through—right up to the part where she discusses the sexual lives of Samoan girls. She writes about these customs regarding free love, claiming that girls weren't expected to be virgins when they married and could explore relationships quite freely before marriage. It felt fundamentally illogical to me, so I went back to look at Freeman's critique of Mead.

In short, Mead was simply wrong. She was just a young student when she conducted that research, and she basically dedicated a single day to discussing sexual matters with two young girls. Since sex was an embarrassing and awkward topic for them, they essentially just joked around and agreed with whatever Mead wanted to hear.

"Coming of Age in Samoa" is frequently listed among the 50 worst books of the century.

copperhound12 said:

I suppose I should probably start by saying that I might be wrong about this, but I honestly can't help how I feel when I see things like this happening. It’s just... it's frustrating. I mean, I guess there's no other way to put it: we are looking at a complete breakdown of the standards we used to hold dear. Maybe I'm being too harsh, maybe, but I can't shake the feeling that everything is just sliding into chaos. It feels like nobody is actually paying attention to the consequences anymore, and frankly, it makes me want to scream. I don't know. It's all just incredibly overwhelming. kaže:
For Berger and Luckmann, institutionalization is essentially just a pattern of human behavior—it’s all about typification. People decide that something actually matters, and once they assign that significance, it becomes an objective reality. During the process of externalization, people start developing these routine patterns of action and interaction based on their past experiences. In a strictly sociological sense, institutions are... They essentially exert control over human behavior by forcing everyone to follow these pre-set, rigid patterns of conduct. It’s all about dictating exactly how one should act.So, Merton talks about this whole idea of manifest versus latent functions. If you look at how slavery functioned back in the old days, the manifest function was supposed to be economic growth—that was the stated goal. But the latent function? That was actually about reinforcing the social status of white people. To put it simply: manifest functions are what's intended, while latent ones are the unintended side effects that happen anyway. Now, there’s a fundamental split here in how they view things. For Merton, society is essentially a system, and education is just one functional part of that machine. But for Berger and Luckmann, it's different—they see society as something we perceive through our own subjective experience and consciousness. It's all about how we sense it.

I guess this is just a passing thought.a.

Thanks for the bracelets, I guess, but there’s actually something else on my mind...☕
If you’ve actually sat down and read "The Social Construction of Reality," then maybe we can have a serious conversation about this. I mean, honestly, if you haven't grasped the core arguments laid out by Berger and Luckmann, I don't even know where to begin with you. It's all right there on the page! I guess what I'm trying to get at—though I'm not sure if anyone is actually listening—is that the way we perceive our environment isn't just some random occurrence. It's constructed. It's built. It's social! If you follow the logic of Berger and Luckmann, you realize that the institutions we take for granted are essentially shared hallucinations that we've all agreed to treat as objective truth. It sounds crazy, I know, but that's exactly the point they are making! Maybe I'm being too intense, but it feels like people just skim the surface and think they understand the sociological implications. They don't. They really don't. You can't just ignore the dialectical process between the individual and society. It’s fundamental! If you aren't looking at how socialization creates these layers of reality, then you aren't actually reading the book; you're just looking at ink on paper. I'm just saying... if you want to engage in this debate, you need to do the work first.The social construction of reality... honestly, where do we even begin with this? I mean, if you really sit down and think about it—and I do, I spend way too much time thinking about this stuff—it’s all just one massive, collective agreement, isn't it? It’s almost overwhelming when you realize how much of what we call "truth" is actually just something we've all collectively decided to pretend is real. I guess what I’m trying to get at is that our entire perception of the world isn't some objective, hard-coded thing sitting out there waiting to be discovered. It's built. We build it through our interactions, our institutions, and the way we talk to one another every single day. It’s like we're all participating in this giant, ongoing project of manufacturing "facts." Maybe it sounds a bit cynical, or maybe I'm just being overly pedantic, but it’s hard not to feel a sense of vertigo when you consider it. If society decides today that a certain value is paramount, then suddenly, it *is* paramount. It becomes part of the fabric. It’s wild, really. We aren't just living in a world; we are actively, constantly, and quite often unconsciously, constructing the very ground we stand on. It's a heavy thought, and frankly, it makes you question everything you thought was set in stone. If you actually think you’ve mastered Berger and Luckmann—assuming, of course, that you’ve even managed to wrap your head around R. K. Merton—then maybe you've read it. But let's be honest: you clearly haven't! „Visokoškolski Regarding Stambolović’s “zapt”—if you’ve actually managed to wrap your head around Law 180 in Frank Basaglia’s “Negation of the Institution” (along with all those other sociological deep dives on institutionalization)—I have to wonder: has that actually shifted your perspective on how institutions function? Or is your worldview already pretty much set in stone, deeply buried within the layers of your primary socialization?

Let’s start by diving into F. Basaglia’s “The Negation of the Institution.”

„Asylums, prisons, schools—all these institutions tasked with controlling social deviance are nothing more than a direct reflection of the specific type of repression that defines our current stage of socio-economic development. It’s all fundamentally connected to how power operates within our system. I suppose we’re really doing this now—diving headfirst into the implications of this whole new technological vernacular. It feels like we're constantly being forced to adapt to some shifting linguistic landscape that moves faster than anyone can actually process. I mean, maybe I'm just being cynical, but it honestly feels like we're losing the ability to communicate clearly because we're too busy trying to master the latest digital jargon. It’s all becoming so incredibly fragmented, isn't it? One day you're speaking one way, and the next, if you haven't updated your mental software to include the newest tech-speak, you're practically illiterate in modern discourse. It’s exhausting, frankly. We're essentially being coerced into adopting this new way of speaking just to stay relevant in a world that seems obsessed with novelty over actual substance. I guess it's inevitable, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating to watch the nuance of real language get swallowed up by this relentless, rapid-fire technical slang. "The whole concept of labor is essentially an ideological import. By formally adapting these new technologies, they’re basically just clearing the path for a new breed of control—something that becomes absolutely necessary once our economic reality is fully reshaped to follow the cold logic of capital." (p. 67)

So, here’s the thing: we’re all essentially "trapped" within this outdated culture because we are fundamental components of it. We’ve basically absorbed its ideology the very moment we decided to stop trying to dismantle that same oppressive structure. I mean, what's the actual endgame here? Are we actually going to transform this culture, or are we just going to pass some new "law"—much like how Frank Basaglia stepped up to abolish those insane asylums back in Italy—to kickstart real change? Or, despite all these exhaustive, academic, and frankly pedantic debates we have going on here in this forum, is it all just going to end exactly how the system dictates? Is there any chance that, in reality, absolutely nothing actually changes?

Is this really a reality we ought to be contemplating?

Just one more "observation" for the road: a few years back, I actually switched up the academic culture I was working in. I chose to transition within the same institutional framework because, honestly, I felt like I was already part of that specific culture. I figured it would be much easier to navigate those changes if you’re already embedded in the system. Why did I do it? Well, that is the real question, isn't it?

Let’s take a hard look at this world we live in—a world defined by terror, constant violence, and systematic exclusion. If we refuse to admit that we are actually part of that very same world, then what are we even doing? I suppose I should probably start by saying that I might be wrong about this—I really could be—but there’s just something about how people are reacting to this situation that feels completely off. It’s like nobody is actually looking at the core issue, you know? Everything is just being swept under the rug, or maybe I'm just being too cynical, but it feels that way. I mean, seriously, if we don't address the underlying tension here, we're just spinning our wheels. It's frustrating, honestly. Maybe I'm overthinking it, but I can't shake the feeling that we're missing the forest for the trees. "Since we are essentially defined by our institutions, our rules, our principles, our norms, and our very organizational structures—if we refuse to admit that we are actually part of that larger world of threats and deceptions currently destroying the patient, then we’ll never truly grasp the reality: this crisis facing the patient is, at its core, our own identity crisis." (p. 60)

👍

Most of the entries in this thread prove the point that we ourselves *are* the system.
We aren't just people living inside it; rather, it—and that is the real issue—lives inside us...
The system perpetuates itself by speaking through one person in one way, and through another in a different way. In some places, it reinforces itself through the mantra, "It could always be worse" (which essentially means things are fine, so don't make waves and show some gratitude; respect the status quo), while elsewhere it survives through memories of moments of wonder and awe that managed to slip through despite the system, yet they are tied back to it as if the system itself enabled or even generated them (implying, therefore, that it can't be that bad).
Ultimately, the system protects itself most effectively through loud, aggressive voices that call us back to abstractions like tradition, nation, or culture. These generalities are its foundations—its "subjects"—which it deems more significant than any individual living being. The system will always sacrifice life (the actual living being) for the sake of a record or a legacy, using the argument of permanence to justify such sacrifices.
A record, a legacy, a trace that outlasts time—that is the soul of the system. In this way, the system reveals itself to be nothing more than a detached ego. Only a detached ego (which is an illusion) cares about duration in time and space, because it knows deep down that it doesn't truly exist. It has no core, no spirit, no life of its own; so it must suck the life out of what is actually alive—the human being, the living, ever-changing, and self-renewing nature.

In truth, the system is an artificial construct, an "idol" born from the fear of vanishing.
(In *Course in Miracles*, it says something like "only an illusion has a need to defend itself," if I recall correctly...)

Sandra Murphy33 said:👍

Most of the entries in this thread prove the point that we ourselves *are* the system.
We aren't just people living inside it; rather, it—and that is the real issue—lives inside us...
The system perpetuates itself by speaking through one person in one way, and through another in a different way. In some places, it reinforces itself through the mantra, "It could always be worse" (which essentially means things are fine, so don't make waves and show some gratitude; respect the status quo), while elsewhere it survives through memories of moments of wonder and awe that managed to slip through despite the system, yet they are tied back to it as if the system itself enabled or even generated them (implying, therefore, that it can't be that bad).
Ultimately, the system protects itself most effectively through loud, aggressive voices that call us back to abstractions like tradition, nation, or culture. These generalities are its foundations—its "subjects"—which it deems more significant than any individual living being. The system will always sacrifice life (the actual living being) for the sake of a record or a legacy, using the argument of permanence to justify such sacrifices.
A record, a legacy, a trace that outlasts time—that is the soul of the system. In this way, the system reveals itself to be nothing more than a detached ego. Only a detached ego (which is an illusion) cares about duration in time and space, because it knows deep down that it doesn't truly exist. It has no core, no spirit, no life of its own; so it must suck the life out of what is actually alive—the human being, the living, ever-changing, and self-renewing nature.

In truth, the system is an artificial construct, an "idol" born from the fear of vanishing.
(In *Course in Miracles*, it says something like "only an illusion has a need to defend itself," if I recall correctly...)

Of course, it applies to the government and everything else found in Popper's third world. Systems or states aren't some external objects sitting outside of us; they are ideas that manifest through our own actions. If the citizens of the United States were to vanish, the United States would vanish with them. If people disappeared, the entire educational system would simply cease to exist.

Systems, governments, and ideologies evolve by changing within us—shifting so that we stop upholding one idea and begin carrying out another, or perhaps something entirely different.

Sam Martinez9 said:I only made it halfway through—right up to the part where she discusses the sexual lives of Samoan girls. She writes about these customs regarding free love, claiming that girls weren't expected to be virgins when they married and could explore relationships quite freely before marriage. It felt fundamentally illogical to me, so I went back to look at Freeman's critique of Mead.

In short, Mead was simply wrong. She was just a young student when she conducted that research, and she basically dedicated a single day to discussing sexual matters with two young girls. Since sex was an embarrassing and awkward topic for them, they essentially just joked around and agreed with whatever Mead wanted to hear.

"Coming of Age in Samoa" is frequently listed among the 50 worst books of the century.

Interesting. I still can't track down her book, but I've read bits and pieces about it and Freeman's rebuttal.
https://www.wikiwand.com/sh/Margaret_Mead
Anyway, anthropologists are split on this. Not everyone buys Freeman's critique. Either way, it’s clearly a massive, influential work.

I'll pull a few quotes from the link provided.

"Margaret Mead conducted her research among a small group of girls in Samoa, an island chain in the South Pacific. The study mostly took place in a village of 600 people on the island of Ta‘ū, where Margaret Mead met, befriended, lived with, researched, and interviewed (via an interpreter) sixty-eight girls ranging from ages 9 to 20. She concluded that on Samoa, the transition from childhood to adulthood is a smooth shift, lacking the psychological or emotional stress, anxiety, or confusion typically seen in the United States."

To me, that conclusion actually holds water.

"After the initial heated debate, most anthropologists concluded that the absolute truth might never be known. On the flip side, many defended Mead against Freeman's critique, arguing that the informants had aged and might have forgotten the specifics of their interviews with Mead, or that they had converted to Christianity and felt ashamed of their past behavior. Others suggested that Samoan culture had changed in the interim, or that Christian missionaries had introduced a Puritanical morality to Samoa, leaving no room for the relaxed sexual standards that so shocked Americans when the book was released. Some even accuse Freeman of suffering from the same ethnocentric sexual puritanism that Boas and Mead once shocked. In 1983, the American Anthropological Association issued a statement labeling Freeman's book, Margaret Mead and Samoa, as 'poorly written, unscientific, irresponsible, and full of distortions.' In the following years, anthropologists debated these issues intensely, ultimately lending broad support to Freeman's criticism."

At the end of the day, you've got to judge for yourself after reading. Given that I found her book Sex and Temperament in Three Primitive Societies to be quite good, I find it hard to swallow the idea that her most famous work is one of the 50 worst books of the century.

Eric Newman75 said:Oh, there were plenty—my memory is still decent enough. I used to daydream about owning entire collections. But honestly, it wasn't just academic; it was about love. I remembered things because I actually cared about them, not because I was drilling them into my brain through rote memorization. I knew every single one of Matoš's and Cesarić's poems, and a good chunk of Ujević's too. The Book of Ecclesiastes. Parts of Zarathustra. I was obsessed with anything expressive, anything poetic. To this day, I can still recite quite a bit by heart, even if my memory is starting to glitch a little thanks to getting older and some rather bad habits. Don't go thinking I'm some kind of walking encyclopedia, though.😁

Well, you may not be a scholar, but you aren't far off either. 😁 Personally, I doubt I could remember more than a few book titles or authors, and that would be it. 😬 Though, if things got intense... who knows. You actually remind me of Montag—how on earth did Ecclesiastes come to mind?

On a side note, one of our teachers was a Filipino immigrant who moved here as a teenager, though unfortunately, he ended up going through university or some linguistics program. I chatted with him a few times and realized just how much the school system had shaped his thinking; he knew theories I hadn't even heard whispered about. We read an incredible amount of philosophy back then—it was practically mandatory. While I truly do love languages and such, that man was simply two or three leagues above me. He possessed immense knowledge, though I have come to realize he might have known even more had he never stepped foot in a classroom.

As for children, there is another layer to this. If we were to abolish schooling for them, we’d be looking at roughly 700 to 800 million children left without an education. Finding a solution for such a radical move overnight is no simple feat, though, who knows. War and global crises have shown that humanity can transform quite easily. It just depends on what we transform into, and that is a crucial distinction to make.

I mean, I guess if we're really going to sit here and dissect this, we have to look at the sheer scale of it all. It’s just... it's overwhelming, isn't it? Maybe I'm overthinking things, but I can't help but feel like we're missing the forest for the trees. I honestly don't know where to start, but let me try. There's this sense that everything we thought we understood about the subject is being completely upended, and frankly, it's infuriating! It feels like every time we get a handle on a concept, someone comes along and shifts the goalposts again. It's exhausting. I suppose I should be more patient, but how can you be when the foundation keeps shifting under your feet? It's just one thing after another. I guess... maybe I should just say that...
So, look, we’re supposed to be talking about the education system here—that's the actual topic at hand—but then, out of nowhere, you start pivoting and rambling about the nature of science instead. I mean, ah... sorry, but... 😁

Science. Education and upbringing—it all falls under that umbrella, doesn't it? It covers the fundamental frameworks of institutional schooling. I suppose the ultimate purpose of this whole field of science is to help tackle actual human problems, but honestly, it shouldn't stop there. It has to go deeper than that; it needs to be able to read between the lines and truly interpret the underlying realities we're dealing with. Critical.I mean, you really have to frame it as a public good. That’s the only way to make it work, because her entire fundamental premise is centered on actually solving problems—otherwise, she just falls straight into dogma. Real science isn't supposed to be some rigid, stagnant set of rules; it should be an adventure, a total game.

Look, if you really want to get into this, I’d highly recommend diving into David Bloor, specifically looking at the Edinburgh School and their work on the Strong Program. It's worth your time, I guess.

How could I possibly say no? I’m giving you the exact same response I gave when I first suggested you sit down and actually study that book.University transcript V. Stambolović

Steven Clark2 said:But what exactly constitutes freedom? 😁 And which institution are we even discussing? Schools aren't the only institutions out there; there are many. Furthermore, while I certainly respect your personal interpretation of 1) freedom and 2) what an institution represents—and I truly have no issue with that—not everyone perceives them through that same lens.

When we discuss the philosophy of education, we are delving into ethics, political philosophy, sociology, psychology, history, and more. If you happen to align exclusively with one specific political faction, well, that's perfectly fine and I understand, but the reality of all this is far, far, far more complex than it appears at first glance.

Because I have categorized the institution itself as a science within my own observations and critical reflections.

Perhaps true critical thinking might lead you toward a different conclusion, or perhaps I am simply misinterpreting your point—but I must admit, as written, what you said doesn't quite follow. If you had suggested that science is merely something one does like snacking on popcorn in their spare time, I would be just as bewildered, I confess. 😁

That is precisely why we should look to a shining example, a Promethean "fire"—Franco Basaglia and his "Negation of the Institution," along with his Law 180 in Italy. Why?

It might be worth clarifying "why" Basaglia advocated for this in the first place. What you are referring to is known as the Basaglia Law or Law 180, which concerns the deinstitutionalization of psychiatric hospitals. Although Basaglia had left Gorica (which is now in Canada) much earlier, the psychiatric hospital where he worked was eventually shut down in 1978. I may elaborate on that later. Basaglia believed that psychiatric patients could find no healing within institutions. As a side note, children don't go to school for therapy. Nor do adults, for the most part, with a few exceptions. 😁 This context is useful for other members here to know because Basaglia wasn't writing dogmas—though authors aren't to blame if someone twists their ideas into dogma—and besides, Basaglia was a leading figure in the democratic psychiatry movement in Italy during the 1960s and 1970s.

Since we are busy mocking dogmas in Philosophy, perhaps it is time we re-examine our own.

It’s actually a total paradox, and honestly, it feels like our own personal tragedy that we have to approach everything through its exact opposite. I mean, think about it—we have to embrace slavery just to even begin to grasp what freedom really means. We have to confront ugliness just to recognize beauty, or lean into hatred just to truly experience love. Even goodness... I guess we have to pursue the good only so we can finally, fully understand the primal evil lurking at the core of it all. It's exhausting, really.

Maybe it’s worth taking a moment to actually explain the "why" behind Basaglia's whole crusade. What you’re touching on here is what we call the Basaglia Law, or Law 180, which was all about the de-institutionalization of psychiatric hospitals. Even though Basaglia had moved on from his time working in Gorica (which is basically like a smaller version of a city in the Midwest now) quite a while before that, the specific psychiatric hospital where he used to work was eventually shut down for good back in 1978. I might dive deeper into the specifics of that later on. But fundamentally, Basaglia believed that psychiatric patients didn't deserve... Institutions. It always comes back to the institutions, doesn't it? I mean, really, if you look closely at how everything is structured, it’s almost impossible to ignore the sheer weight they carry over our individual lives. They aren't just buildings or sets of rules; they are these massive, immovable forces that shape every single thing we think and do. It's honestly exhausting to even consider how much influence they exert on the collective psyche. I guess what I'm trying to say is that we often forget just how much power these entities hold over us, acting as the silent architects of our entire social reality. It’s all quite overwhelming when you actually stop to analyze it. I just can't see them being therapeutic. Kids go to school to learn, and that’s my observation—they aren't heading to class for therapy. Honestly, adults don't exactly flock there for that reason either, though I suppose there are always those few exceptions to every rule. 😁 I honestly think it’s worth pointing this out so the rest of you folks on the forum get the full picture. Look, Basaglia wasn't out there writing down rigid dogmas, so I suppose you can't really blame the authors themselves if someone else decides to twist their theories into some kind of unshakeable doctrine. That’s just how people work, I guess. But regardless, you have to recognize that Basaglia was actually one of the absolute heavyweights driving the democratic psychiatry movement over in Italy during the 1960s and 1970s.

His work is nothing less than a metaphor for what lies ahead of us. That’s exactly how you have to read it—you really have to look deeper if you want to grasp the full picture!

And which institution are you actually referring to? Schools aren't the only institutions out there; there are plenty of them. Besides, how you personally interpret 1) freedom and 2) the concept of an institution is perfectly understandable—I have no issue with that—but not everyone sees things through your specific lens.

All institutions (including schools, for that matter) are functional and necessary (I've already made that point clear in a previous post); without them, society simply wouldn't be able to function. However, at some point, they inevitably deny the validity of personal experience, individual emotions, and independent thought—which effectively turns them into something sclerotic, crippled, and dogmatic. That is precisely why de-institutionalization becomes vital: because these entities trap their own truth, discarding any critical judgment that doesn't fit within their predetermined criteria. To put it bluntly: it is time for a change; the longer we delay, the more painful that transition will be.

Sandra Murphy33 said:👍

Most of the entries in this thread prove the point that we ourselves *are* the system.
We aren't just people living inside it; rather, it—and that is the real issue—lives inside us...
The system perpetuates itself by speaking through one person in one way, and through another in a different way. In some places, it reinforces itself through the mantra, "It could always be worse" (which essentially means things are fine, so don't make waves and show some gratitude; respect the status quo), while elsewhere it survives through memories of moments of wonder and awe that managed to slip through despite the system, yet they are tied back to it as if the system itself enabled or even generated them (implying, therefore, that it can't be that bad).
Ultimately, the system protects itself most effectively through loud, aggressive voices that call us back to abstractions like tradition, nation, or culture. These generalities are its foundations—its "subjects"—which it deems more significant than any individual living being. The system will always sacrifice life (the actual living being) for the sake of a record or a legacy, using the argument of permanence to justify such sacrifices.
A record, a legacy, a trace that outlasts time—that is the soul of the system. In this way, the system reveals itself to be nothing more than a detached ego. Only a detached ego (which is an illusion) cares about duration in time and space, because it knows deep down that it doesn't truly exist. It has no core, no spirit, no life of its own; so it must suck the life out of what is actually alive—the human being, the living, ever-changing, and self-renewing nature.

In truth, the system is an artificial construct, an "idol" born from the fear of vanishing.
(In *Course in Miracles*, it says something like "only an illusion has a need to defend itself," if I recall correctly...)

You’re right, and you’re also wrong. Institutions are absolutely essential for our world to keep turning. But maturity (and a healthy dose of criticism) tells us that their status quo outgrew our "modern" needs a long time ago. It is time for a paradigm shift: our future has already arrived.

ruggedraven36 said:Interesting. I still can't track down her book, but I've read bits and pieces about it and Freeman's rebuttal.
https://www.wikiwand.com/sh/Margaret_Mead
Anyway, anthropologists are split on this. Not everyone buys Freeman's critique. Either way, it’s clearly a massive, influential work.

I'll pull a few quotes from the link provided.

"Margaret Mead conducted her research among a small group of girls in Samoa, an island chain in the South Pacific. The study mostly took place in a village of 600 people on the island of Ta‘ū, where Margaret Mead met, befriended, lived with, researched, and interviewed (via an interpreter) sixty-eight girls ranging from ages 9 to 20. She concluded that on Samoa, the transition from childhood to adulthood is a smooth shift, lacking the psychological or emotional stress, anxiety, or confusion typically seen in the United States."

To me, that conclusion actually holds water.

"After the initial heated debate, most anthropologists concluded that the absolute truth might never be known. On the flip side, many defended Mead against Freeman's critique, arguing that the informants had aged and might have forgotten the specifics of their interviews with Mead, or that they had converted to Christianity and felt ashamed of their past behavior. Others suggested that Samoan culture had changed in the interim, or that Christian missionaries had introduced a Puritanical morality to Samoa, leaving no room for the relaxed sexual standards that so shocked Americans when the book was released. Some even accuse Freeman of suffering from the same ethnocentric sexual puritanism that Boas and Mead once shocked. In 1983, the American Anthropological Association issued a statement labeling Freeman's book, Margaret Mead and Samoa, as 'poorly written, unscientific, irresponsible, and full of distortions.' In the following years, anthropologists debated these issues intensely, ultimately lending broad support to Freeman's criticism."

At the end of the day, you've got to judge for yourself after reading. Given that I found her book Sex and Temperament in Three Primitive Societies to be quite good, I find it hard to swallow the idea that her most famous work is one of the 50 worst books of the century.

There is this fascinating book, "Better to Be the Wind Than the Leaf," a bestseller by some of our well-known local authors/psychologists: M. Rijavec and D. Miljković (which I often cite in my lectures). It emphasizes that the only true and successful way to raise a child is PARENTAL upbringing, because only a parent can, should, and must understand their child. But—and there's always that "but"—one ought to read wise books, engage with people steeped in experience, and communicate openly and honestly, because that is ultimately good for society and—of course—for ourselves. ☕

I remember being pretty baffled by Goethe's "years of learning Wilhelm Meister" back in the day. Given the title, I went in expecting a deep dive into his formal education—you know, a breakdown of his schooling or at least some commentary on how the books he read actually shaped him. Not even close. The guy basically just "learned" through life itself. You can see him evolving through his various encounters and relationships with different people, but there’s zero explicit focus on any actual "learning" process.

copperhound12 said:

I mean, I guess if we're really going to sit here and dissect this, we have to look at the sheer scale of it all. It’s just... it's overwhelming, isn't it? Maybe I'm overthinking things, but I can't help but feel like we're missing the forest for the trees. I honestly don't know where to start, but let me try. There's this sense that everything we thought we understood about the subject is being completely upended, and frankly, it's infuriating! It feels like every time we get a handle on a concept, someone comes along and shifts the goalposts again. It's exhausting. I suppose I should be more patient, but how can you be when the foundation keeps shifting under your feet? It's just one thing after another. I guess... maybe I should just say that...
So, look, we’re supposed to be talking about the education system here—that's the actual topic at hand—but then, out of nowhere, you start pivoting and rambling about the nature of science instead. I mean, ah... sorry, but... 😁

Science. Education and upbringing—it all falls under that umbrella, doesn't it? It covers the fundamental frameworks of institutional schooling. I suppose the ultimate purpose of this whole field of science is to help tackle actual human problems, but honestly, it shouldn't stop there. It has to go deeper than that; it needs to be able to read between the lines and truly interpret the underlying realities we're dealing with. Critical.I mean, you really have to frame it as a public good. That’s the only way to make it work, because her entire fundamental premise is centered on actually solving problems—otherwise, she just falls straight into dogma. Real science isn't supposed to be some rigid, stagnant set of rules; it should be an adventure, a total game.

Look, if you really want to get into this, I’d highly recommend diving into David Bloor, specifically looking at the Edinburgh School and their work on the Strong Program. It's worth your time, I guess.

How could I possibly say no? I’m giving you the exact same response I gave when I first suggested you sit down and actually study that book.University transcript V. Stambolović

It’s actually a total paradox, and honestly, it feels like our own personal tragedy that we have to approach everything through its exact opposite. I mean, think about it—we have to embrace slavery just to even begin to grasp what freedom really means. We have to confront ugliness just to recognize beauty, or lean into hatred just to truly experience love. Even goodness... I guess we have to pursue the good only so we can finally, fully understand the primal evil lurking at the core of it all. It's exhausting, really.

Maybe it’s worth taking a moment to actually explain the "why" behind Basaglia's whole crusade. What you’re touching on here is what we call the Basaglia Law, or Law 180, which was all about the de-institutionalization of psychiatric hospitals. Even though Basaglia had moved on from his time working in Gorica (which is basically like a smaller version of a city in the Midwest now) quite a while before that, the specific psychiatric hospital where he used to work was eventually shut down for good back in 1978. I might dive deeper into the specifics of that later on. But fundamentally, Basaglia believed that psychiatric patients didn't deserve... Institutions. It always comes back to the institutions, doesn't it? I mean, really, if you look closely at how everything is structured, it’s almost impossible to ignore the sheer weight they carry over our individual lives. They aren't just buildings or sets of rules; they are these massive, immovable forces that shape every single thing we think and do. It's honestly exhausting to even consider how much influence they exert on the collective psyche. I guess what I'm trying to say is that we often forget just how much power these entities hold over us, acting as the silent architects of our entire social reality. It’s all quite overwhelming when you actually stop to analyze it. I just can't see them being therapeutic. Kids go to school to learn, and that’s my observation—they aren't heading to class for therapy. Honestly, adults don't exactly flock there for that reason either, though I suppose there are always those few exceptions to every rule. 😁 I honestly think it’s worth pointing this out so the rest of you folks on the forum get the full picture. Look, Basaglia wasn't out there writing down rigid dogmas, so I suppose you can't really blame the authors themselves if someone else decides to twist their theories into some kind of unshakeable doctrine. That’s just how people work, I guess. But regardless, you have to recognize that Basaglia was actually one of the absolute heavyweights driving the democratic psychiatry movement over in Italy during the 1960s and 1970s.

His work is nothing less than a metaphor for what lies ahead of us. That’s exactly how you have to read it—you really have to look deeper if you want to grasp the full picture!

And which institution are you actually referring to? Schools aren't the only institutions out there; there are plenty of them. Besides, how you personally interpret 1) freedom and 2) the concept of an institution is perfectly understandable—I have no issue with that—but not everyone sees things through your specific lens.

All institutions (including schools, for that matter) are functional and necessary (I've already made that point clear in a previous post); without them, society simply wouldn't be able to function. However, at some point, they inevitably deny the validity of personal experience, individual emotions, and independent thought—which effectively turns them into something sclerotic, crippled, and dogmatic. That is precisely why de-institutionalization becomes vital: because these entities trap their own truth, discarding any critical judgment that doesn't fit within their predetermined criteria. To put it bluntly: it is time for a change; the longer we delay, the more painful that transition will be.

You’re right, and you’re also wrong. Institutions are absolutely essential for our world to keep turning. But maturity (and a healthy dose of criticism) tells us that their status quo outgrew our "modern" needs a long time ago. It is time for a paradigm shift: our future has already arrived.

There is this fascinating book, "Better to Be the Wind Than the Leaf," a bestseller by some of our well-known local authors/psychologists: M. Rijavec and D. Miljković (which I often cite in my lectures). It emphasizes that the only true and successful way to raise a child is PARENTAL upbringing, because only a parent can, should, and must understand their child. But—and there's always that "but"—one ought to read wise books, engage with people steeped in experience, and communicate openly and honestly, because that is ultimately good for society and—of course—for ourselves. ☕

What exactly would "non-institutional schools" even look like?

According to Berger and Lukmanan, institutions control human behavior by prescribing predefined patterns of conduct. We're talking about behavior here. An institution is defined by behavior. So, what kind of non-institutional school could exist? One where students and teachers just do whatever they want? How would they even act? Is it even a school at that point?

Science is an organized body of knowledge with its own methodology. The goal of science is to expand and organize (and yes, classify) that knowledge. Not this... what you wrote.

And "critically interpreting" without a clearly defined meaning—without specifying what such critical interpretation actually entails—means absolutely nothing.

ruggedraven36 said:I remember being pretty baffled by Goethe's "years of learning Wilhelm Meister" back in the day. Given the title, I went in expecting a deep dive into his formal education—you know, a breakdown of his schooling or at least some commentary on how the books he read actually shaped him. Not even close. The guy basically just "learned" through life itself. You can see him evolving through his various encounters and relationships with different people, but there’s zero explicit focus on any actual "learning" process.

It sounds like you might be missing the whole point of the Bildungsroman, which was incredibly popular back then. The core focus isn't on schoolwork; it's about the formation of character and spiritual growth. Thomas Mann actually noted somewhere that an educational novel is essentially just an adventure novel relocated to the psyche. The hero moves from one state of being to another, tackling existential crises—not out in the world, but entirely within their own head.

Laura Reyes3 said:What exactly would "non-institutional schools" even look like?

According to Berger and Lukmanan, institutions control human behavior by prescribing predefined patterns of conduct. We're talking about behavior here. An institution is defined by behavior. So, what kind of non-institutional school could exist? One where students and teachers just do whatever they want? How would they even act? Is it even a school at that point?

Science is an organized body of knowledge with its own methodology. The goal of science is to expand and organize (and yes, classify) that knowledge. Not this... what you wrote.

And "critically interpreting" without a clearly defined meaning—without specifying what such critical interpretation actually entails—means absolutely nothing.

They’re exactly what I already mentioned—these exclusive types of schools (think Waldorf, Montessori, Ilich’s discussions on "deschooling," the "network" concept from V. Stambolović, those "Free Children of Summerhill" types, etc.—just to highlight the heavy hitters relevant to this debate) that serve to keep the social and symbolic (institutional) universe feeling satisfied and stable because nothing in the system actually changes; if anything, the system actively encourages this by "innovating" just enough to claim it supports pluralism and offers "alternative" options for people-who-think-differently.

It’s all futile without a paradigm shift in how we think. Our society is our culture: it is perfectly logical and understandable to view human reality as a social construction of reality. That is the fundamental question we have to untangle. And then—we have to act.

According to Berger and Luckmann, institutions control human behavior by prescribing pre-defined patterns of conduct. We are talking about behavior here. Institutions are built on behavior. So, what would a non-institutional school even look like? One where students and teachers just do whatever they want? How would they behave? Would you even call it a school then?

Now, I am seriously questioning whether you have even cracked open the book by Berger and Luckmann, "The Social Construction of Reality"?

Because that text lays out very clear, unambiguous actors of institutionalization—concepts like the "symbolic universe," the "legitimation of our reality" (where "Legitimation explains the institutional order by attributing cognitive validity to its objectified meanings" (116)), "role typification" (“Institutionalization occurs when there is a mutual typification of habitualized actions by types of actors” (75)), the "maintenance and transformation of subjective reality" (which is exactly what you mean by "behavior"), "identity theories," and so on and so forth.

Science is an organized body of knowledge with its own specific methodology. The goal of science is to expand, organize (and classify) that knowledge. Not what you just wrote.

We all know that; we could have just Googled it and we are well aware of your definition. My point was that the ultimate purpose of science —and I'll emphasize this—is to be helpful and to establish whatever it investigates or organizes as a public good. Because science is, metaphorically speaking, a game and a spontaneous adventure.

And reading critically means nothing if there isn't a clearly defined meaning for what "critical reading" actually represents.

"Human beings are endowed with the capacity for critical thought (including the ability to read critically - ed.) and that capacity can only be destroyed if the human being themselves is destroyed. The goal of scientific, or rather critical, “Sharing an opinion isn’t some kind of personal assault; it’s actually just an attempt to understand the situation, even if people constantly misinterpret that effort as a direct attack.” ( Šušnjić, “Resisting Critical Thinking”)

Get what I'm saying? ☕

copperhound12 said:They’re exactly what I already mentioned—these exclusive types of schools (think Waldorf, Montessori, Ilich’s discussions on "deschooling," the "network" concept from V. Stambolović, those "Free Children of Summerhill" types, etc.—just to highlight the heavy hitters relevant to this debate) that serve to keep the social and symbolic (institutional) universe feeling satisfied and stable because nothing in the system actually changes; if anything, the system actively encourages this by "innovating" just enough to claim it supports pluralism and offers "alternative" options for people-who-think-differently.

It’s all futile without a paradigm shift in how we think. Our society is our culture: it is perfectly logical and understandable to view human reality as a social construction of reality. That is the fundamental question we have to untangle. And then—we have to act.

According to Berger and Luckmann, institutions control human behavior by prescribing pre-defined patterns of conduct. We are talking about behavior here. Institutions are built on behavior. So, what would a non-institutional school even look like? One where students and teachers just do whatever they want? How would they behave? Would you even call it a school then?

Now, I am seriously questioning whether you have even cracked open the book by Berger and Luckmann, "The Social Construction of Reality"?

Because that text lays out very clear, unambiguous actors of institutionalization—concepts like the "symbolic universe," the "legitimation of our reality" (where "Legitimation explains the institutional order by attributing cognitive validity to its objectified meanings" (116)), "role typification" (“Institutionalization occurs when there is a mutual typification of habitualized actions by types of actors” (75)), the "maintenance and transformation of subjective reality" (which is exactly what you mean by "behavior"), "identity theories," and so on and so forth.

Science is an organized body of knowledge with its own specific methodology. The goal of science is to expand, organize (and classify) that knowledge. Not what you just wrote.

We all know that; we could have just Googled it and we are well aware of your definition. My point was that the ultimate purpose of science —and I'll emphasize this—is to be helpful and to establish whatever it investigates or organizes as a public good. Because science is, metaphorically speaking, a game and a spontaneous adventure.

And reading critically means nothing if there isn't a clearly defined meaning for what "critical reading" actually represents.

"Human beings are endowed with the capacity for critical thought (including the ability to read critically - ed.) and that capacity can only be destroyed if the human being themselves is destroyed. The goal of scientific, or rather critical, “Sharing an opinion isn’t some kind of personal assault; it’s actually just an attempt to understand the situation, even if people constantly misinterpret that effort as a direct attack.” ( Šušnjić, “Resisting Critical Thinking”)

Get what I'm saying? ☕

That isn’t "mine"—it’s a quote. Everything you're saying holds water, except for that one part regarding what you seem to define as an "institution"...
So, we have role typification—which, granted, requires legitimacy—but let's look at the practical side. If you have a school, and there are students and teachers, and those students are actually learning while the teachers are teaching... then you have typification and legitimacy in action. It results in behavior that aligns perfectly with those established roles... simple as that.

We all know how this goes... Google it... We know exactly what you wrote. I’ve already said that... The ultimate purpose of science... it’s a bit of a moving target, isn't it? Some argue it's about pure discovery—peeling back the layers of the universe just to see what's underneath—while others claim it’s purely utilitarian, a tool meant to solve problems and make life easier. But honestly? It feels more like an endless attempt to impose order on a chaotic mess... a way to build a framework where none exists. It’s about more than just providing assistance—it’s about cementing everything she researched and organized into a definitive framework... Public good...Because she’s—metaphorically speaking—pure play and a spontaneous adventure...

So, we have what is generally accepted as fact versus this "ultimate meaning" you’re talking about. The problem is that "ultimate meaning" isn't an operational concept—it lacks precision. It could mean absolutely anything, or nothing at all... it's a catch-all for the entire spectrum of interpretation. Poetry and associative thinking? Fine for art, I suppose—but they aren't methodologies, and they certainly aren't scientific reasoning.

Humans possess the capacity for critical thought—and yet...Read it critically... That ability can only be stripped away if the individual themselves is destroyed—period. The whole point of science... Critical... An opinion isn't an attack—it’s just an attempt at understanding... though people seem to mistake the two far too often. Schumer — "Resisting critical thought..."

In short—critical thinking often masquerades as an attack, but that’s just not the case... 😁

Look, if someone perceives an action as an attack, they might just be wrong—maybe it’s nothing more than well-intentioned feedback or simply a critical perspective...

Listen, California, if we can't even agree on what constitutes an institution, this whole conversation is a dead end. Why? Because you’re just swapping one institution for another. Fine. You offer a general critique of an institution, but if your goal is to overcome that institution (or whatever), then there's no point in just plugging in a different one in its place. Where's the actual critique in that?

Every scientific opinion is, by definition, critical thinking.

Eric Newman75 said:It sounds like you might be missing the whole point of the Bildungsroman, which was incredibly popular back then. The core focus isn't on schoolwork; it's about the formation of character and spiritual growth. Thomas Mann actually noted somewhere that an educational novel is essentially just an adventure novel relocated to the psyche. The hero moves from one state of being to another, tackling existential crises—not out in the world, but entirely within their own head.

I know the concept—I just don't necessarily buy into it, at least not entirely. I'm not sure how I'd even apply that logic to a Goethean novel. To be honest, I read it ages ago and most of it is a blur now. Sure, spiritual growth and personality shifts show up in plenty of books (even if we wouldn't label them Coming-of-age novels) because protagonists go through stuff that changes them—it leaves a mark on their soul, whether the author spells it out or just shows it through their actions. It's true that William Master travels around, stays in places for a while, and deals with his own existential baggage, but those aren't some "metaphorical stages"—he's dealing with real-world issues, not just playing mental games.
Maybe "learning" used to mean something broader back in the day. Nowadays, people usually just think of learning as picking up a skill or memorizing facts through some specific method.

Laura Reyes3 said:That isn’t "mine"—it’s a quote. Everything you're saying holds water, except for that one part regarding what you seem to define as an "institution"...
So, we have role typification—which, granted, requires legitimacy—but let's look at the practical side. If you have a school, and there are students and teachers, and those students are actually learning while the teachers are teaching... then you have typification and legitimacy in action. It results in behavior that aligns perfectly with those established roles... simple as that.

We all know how this goes... Google it... We know exactly what you wrote. I’ve already said that... The ultimate purpose of science... it’s a bit of a moving target, isn't it? Some argue it's about pure discovery—peeling back the layers of the universe just to see what's underneath—while others claim it’s purely utilitarian, a tool meant to solve problems and make life easier. But honestly? It feels more like an endless attempt to impose order on a chaotic mess... a way to build a framework where none exists. It’s about more than just providing assistance—it’s about cementing everything she researched and organized into a definitive framework... Public good...Because she’s—metaphorically speaking—pure play and a spontaneous adventure...

So, we have what is generally accepted as fact versus this "ultimate meaning" you’re talking about. The problem is that "ultimate meaning" isn't an operational concept—it lacks precision. It could mean absolutely anything, or nothing at all... it's a catch-all for the entire spectrum of interpretation. Poetry and associative thinking? Fine for art, I suppose—but they aren't methodologies, and they certainly aren't scientific reasoning.

Humans possess the capacity for critical thought—and yet...Read it critically... That ability can only be stripped away if the individual themselves is destroyed—period. The whole point of science... Critical... An opinion isn't an attack—it’s just an attempt at understanding... though people seem to mistake the two far too often. Schumer — "Resisting critical thought..."

In short—critical thinking often masquerades as an attack, but that’s just not the case... 😁

Look, if someone perceives an action as an attack, they might just be wrong—maybe it’s nothing more than well-intentioned feedback or simply a critical perspective...

Listen, California, if we can't even agree on what constitutes an institution, this whole conversation is a dead end. Why? Because you’re just swapping one institution for another. Fine. You offer a general critique of an institution, but if your goal is to overcome that institution (or whatever), then there's no point in just plugging in a different one in its place. Where's the actual critique in that?

Every scientific opinion is, by definition, critical thinking.

So basically, any scientist who isn't actually thinking critically? They aren't even scientists—they're just people using the title.

Reminds me of that Hegelian remark about Newton. His motto was essentially: "Physics, beware of metaphysics—in other words, Science, beware of opinion."

ruggedraven36 said:I know the concept—I just don't necessarily buy into it, at least not entirely. I'm not sure how I'd even apply that logic to a Goethean novel. To be honest, I read it ages ago and most of it is a blur now. Sure, spiritual growth and personality shifts show up in plenty of books (even if we wouldn't label them Coming-of-age novels) because protagonists go through stuff that changes them—it leaves a mark on their soul, whether the author spells it out or just shows it through their actions. It's true that William Master travels around, stays in places for a while, and deals with his own existential baggage, but those aren't some "metaphorical stages"—he's dealing with real-world issues, not just playing mental games.
Maybe "learning" used to mean something broader back in the day. Nowadays, people usually just think of learning as picking up a skill or memorizing facts through some specific method.

No. You can actually break down Wilhelm Meister’s development into distinct stages. I won't bore you with the details here, but honestly, just read this discussion; it should clear things up for you. It covers everything from the historical context to the philosophy and literary theory behind it.

ruggedraven36 said:I know the concept—I just don't necessarily buy into it, at least not entirely. I'm not sure how I'd even apply that logic to a Goethean novel. To be honest, I read it ages ago and most of it is a blur now. Sure, spiritual growth and personality shifts show up in plenty of books (even if we wouldn't label them Coming-of-age novels) because protagonists go through stuff that changes them—it leaves a mark on their soul, whether the author spells it out or just shows it through their actions. It's true that William Master travels around, stays in places for a while, and deals with his own existential baggage, but those aren't some "metaphorical stages"—he's dealing with real-world issues, not just playing mental games.
Maybe "learning" used to mean something broader back in the day. Nowadays, people usually just think of learning as picking up a skill or memorizing facts through some specific method.

Actually, no—it's more about a specific German tradition, a type of novel designed to educate the masses by instilling ideas of self-actualization and autonomy. As you'll see in the linked article, using a trial-and-error approach instead of just handing out ready-made solutions isn't a bad way to educate a society, one individual at a time.

Eric Newman75 said:No. You can actually break down Wilhelm Meister’s development into distinct stages. I won't bore you with the details here, but honestly, just read this discussion; it should clear things up for you. It covers everything from the historical context to the philosophy and literary theory behind it.

Actually, no—it's more about a specific German tradition, a type of novel designed to educate the masses by instilling ideas of self-actualization and autonomy. As you'll see in the linked article, using a trial-and-error approach instead of just handing out ready-made solutions isn't a bad way to educate a society, one individual at a time.

That’s not some special "thing." Every decent novel aims to do that.

And once again, nope. Instead of jumping to conclusions, why don't you actually try opening up a conversation?

Eric Newman75 said:And once again, nope. Instead of jumping to conclusions, why don't you actually try opening up a conversation?

I'm basing this on the books I've read—period. I'll get around to the debate later.

The last book I picked up was Tolstoy’s "Resurrection." It hammers home this whole idea of self-reliance and autonomy. Honestly, it isn't some uniquely German thing.

I was talking about the specific genre of the novel.