Carl%20Sagan%20-%20The%20Demon%20Haunted%20World

Carl%20Sagan%20-%20The%20Demon%20Haunted%20World Carl%20Sagan%20-%20The%20Demon%20Haunted%20World

giancarlo3000
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04.10.2012 Views

19 No Such Thing as a Dumb Question So we keep asking, over and over, Until a handful of earth Stops our mouths— But is that an answer? Heinrich Heine, 'Lazarus' (1854) In East Africa, in the records of the rocks dating back to about two million years ago, you can find a sequence of worked tools that our ancestors designed and executed. Their lives depended on making and using these tools. This was, of course, Early Stone Age technology. Over time, specially fashioned stones were used for stabbing, chipping, flaking, cutting, carving. Although there are many ways of making stone tools, what is remarkable is that in a given site for enormous periods of time the tools were made in the same way - which means that there must have been educational institutions hundreds of thousands of years ago, even if it was mainly an apprenticeship system. While it's easy to exaggerate the similarities, it's also easy to imagine the equivalent of professors and students in loincloths, laboratory courses, examinations, failing grades, graduation ceremonies and postgraduate education. When the training is unchanged for immense periods of time, traditions are passed on intact to the next generation. But when 300

No Such Thing as a Dumb Question what needs to be learned changes quickly, especially in the course of a single generation, it becomes much harder to know what to teach and how to teach it. Then, students complain about relevance; respect for their elders diminishes. Teachers despair at how educational standards have deteriorated, and how lackadaisical students have become. In a world in transition, students and teachers both need to teach themselves one essential skill - learning how to learn. Except for children (who don't know enough not to ask the important questions), few of us spend much time wondering why Nature is the way it is; where the Cosmos came from, or whether it was always here; if time will one day flow backward, and effects precede causes; or whether there are ultimate limits to what humans can know. There are even children, and I have met some of them, who want to know what a black hole looks like; what is the smallest piece of matter; why we remember the past and not the future; and why there is a Universe. Every now and then, I'm lucky enough to teach a kindergarten or first-grade class. Many of these children are natural-born scientists - although heavy on the wonder side and light on scepticism. They're curious, intellectually vigorous. Provocative and insightful questions bubble out of them. They exhibit enormous enthusiasm. I'm asked follow-up questions. They've never heard of the notion of a 'dumb question'. But when I talk to high school seniors, I find something different. They memorize 'facts'. By and large, though, the joy of discovery, the life behind those facts, has gone out of them. They've lost much of the wonder, and gained very little scepticism. They're worried about asking 'dumb' questions; they're willing to accept inadequate answers; they don't pose follow-up questions; the room is awash with sidelong glances to judge, second-by-second, the approval of their peers. They come to class with their questions written out on pieces of paper, which they surreptitiously examine, waiting their turn and oblivious of whatever discussion their peers are at this moment engaged in. Something has happened between first and twelfth grade, and it's not just puberty. I'd guess that it's partly peer pressure not to 301

No Such Thing as a Dumb Question<br />

what needs to be learned changes quickly, especially in the course<br />

of a single generation, it becomes much harder to know what to<br />

teach and how to teach it. Then, students complain about<br />

relevance; respect for their elders diminishes. Teachers despair at<br />

how educational standards have deteriorated, and how lackadaisical<br />

students have become. In a world in transition, students and<br />

teachers both need to teach themselves one essential skill -<br />

learning how to learn.<br />

Except for children (who don't know enough not to ask the<br />

important questions), few of us spend much time wondering why<br />

Nature is the way it is; where the Cosmos came from, or whether<br />

it was always here; if time will one day flow backward, and effects<br />

precede causes; or whether there are ultimate limits to what<br />

humans can know. There are even children, and I have met some<br />

of them, who want to know what a black hole looks like; what is<br />

the smallest piece of matter; why we remember the past and not<br />

the future; and why there is a Universe.<br />

Every now and then, I'm lucky enough to teach a kindergarten<br />

or first-grade class. Many of these children are natural-born<br />

scientists - although heavy on the wonder side and light on<br />

scepticism. They're curious, intellectually vigorous. Provocative<br />

and insightful questions bubble out of them. They exhibit enormous<br />

enthusiasm. I'm asked follow-up questions. They've never<br />

heard of the notion of a 'dumb question'.<br />

But when I talk to high school seniors, I find something<br />

different. They memorize 'facts'. By and large, though, the joy of<br />

discovery, the life behind those facts, has gone out of them.<br />

They've lost much of the wonder, and gained very little scepticism.<br />

They're worried about asking 'dumb' questions; they're<br />

willing to accept inadequate answers; they don't pose follow-up<br />

questions; the room is awash with sidelong glances to judge,<br />

second-by-second, the approval of their peers. They come to class<br />

with their questions written out on pieces of paper, which they<br />

surreptitiously examine, waiting their turn and oblivious of whatever<br />

discussion their peers are at this moment engaged in.<br />

Something has happened between first and twelfth grade, and<br />

it's not just puberty. I'd guess that it's partly peer pressure not to<br />

301

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