I have long been incensed at the effrontery of 'Catholics for Choice.' The 'choice' for which they campaign, of course, is the choice to kill the unborn. To call themselves Catholics whilst proclaiming this Satanic doctrine is an oxymoron of the highest order. Abortion is a sin of the world, the flesh, and the Devil.
I was reminded of this when I learned of Catholic Schools that are proclaiming themselves 'Stonewall Schools.' Whilst Stonewall presents as an organisation that aims to promote equality and address bullying, its underlying philosophy, ethos and anthropology are all contrary to Catholic beliefs.
That reality comes to the surface from time to time, revealing Stonewall’s profound antipathy for Catholicism. Cardinal O’Brien was awarded the title ‘bigot of the year’ by Stonewall, for standing up for Catholic teaching about marriage; and Stonewall was behind the legislation on adoption that forced the closure of Catholic adoption agencies.
The fundamental point of disagreement, of course, is Stonewall’s belief that homosexual and other non-procreative sexual behaviour is a positive good, and their mission to normalise and gain acceptance for such behaviour. That stands in stark contrast to the Church’s teaching, founded on the words of Christ Himself, that human sex is only good in marriage, when it expresses the nuptial union of a man and a woman, in love and open to life.
That then leads to very different approaches to, for example, the practical issue of education to prevent bullying. Stonewall’s approach is to teach children that 'gay children' (for example) should not be bullied because 'gay' is natural and good.
The Church, of course, teaches that nobody should be bullied, whether we approve of their behaviour or not, as we are all made in the image of God, and none of us is free from fault or defect, due to Original Sin.
So Stonewall’s anti-bullying work is at the service of their larger agenda, which is in contradiction to the Gospel and the teaching of the Church. The construction and promotion of the notion of a ‘gay person’ as an identity is philosophically and anthropologically unsound, and leads children (and indeed adults, including teachers) into error. That error is compounded with the assumption that ‘being gay’ (ie subject to homosexual desires) can only find authentic expression in the indulgence of such desires. That error then leads people into sin and depravity.
It is for that reason that it is incompatible for a School to be both Catholic and a ‘Stonewall School.’ And it is for that reason that I am delighted that the lamentable CES document 'Made in God's Image' is being quietly re-written. Let us hope that the next version is Catholic, not oxymoronic.
And let us hope and pray that the relevant bishops have a quiet word with the heads of the 'Stonewall Schools' and put them back on the straight and narrow; for the broad and popular Stonewall path leads somewhere quite different.
Showing posts with label Education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Education. Show all posts
Sunday, 4 February 2018
Tuesday, 27 September 2016
School of the Annunciation: Foundations in Faith for the New Evangelisation
I have just received this news from the excellent School of the Annunciation, with a request that I publicise it:
Exciting new developments from the School of the Annunciation – the Foundations in Faith for the New Evangelisation (FFNE) course which began in June in Nelson Parish, Salford Diocese has three centres beginning this autumn and winter.
The FFNE course is an 18 month course which takes students systematically through the foundations of Church teaching. Subjects include the triune God, Jesus Christ, the Church, Our Lady and the saints, introduction to Sacred Scripture, the Liturgy and the Sacraments, the dignity of the human being, Christian moral life, Sacred Art, media and the parish.
The course is for all Catholics who wish to know their faith better, especially those who pass it on to others, such as catechists, parents, grandparents, children’s liturgy leaders, youth workers, parish staff and volunteers, and anyone who has ever fumbled when they have been asked a question about the faith which they have struggled to answer. As students study the course material they learn how to express it both for themselves and for others. There are also practical workshops included in the study days and weekends.
After attendance at either the residential weekend at Buckfast or the study days at Ealing and Southwark, students work on their own with constant support by email from their course tutor.
No prior learning is necessary, no essays or exams to be taken. Students work at their own level through the course material and send in short 500 word assignments to their tutor every 7-10 days.
The forthcoming centres are:
Buckfast Abbey on 28th October with a residential weekend in the lovely and relaxing setting of the Abbey enjoying excellent accommodation and food, as well as excellent lectures and liturgy of course.
Ealing Abbey on 12th November (the course is run over 2 years at this centre)
Southwark Diocese on 7th January in Tooting Bec (under the title “Diocesan Catechetical Certificate”)
Both the Ealing and the Tooting Bec centres structure the course around 6 days of attendance.
Please forward these details to all your Catholic contacts and encourage them to get in touch with Mrs Carol Ann Harnett if they have any questions.
Mrs Carol Ann Harnett
School of the Annunciation
www.schooloftheannunciation.com
Telephone Number (01364) 645660.
www.schooloftheannunciation.com
Telephone Number (01364) 645660.
Monday, 11 January 2016
Because (ir)Religion
I am a little tired (and bored) of people saying 'Oh, so Because Religion!' as a rebuttal. It is cheap, thoughtless, and ignorant.
Am I supposed to defer to them, on the grounds that their personal lived experience, and their reading of the Guardian (or the Daily Mail, come to that) is real, whilst my conviction that Christ is God-made-man, and the associated philosophy built on the wisdom of centuries, is insubstantial and meaningless? It seems odd to me that anyone might expect that.
In fact, I fear that we are raising an (or another) uneducable generation, by teaching them that everything can and should be the subject of their personal 'informed' decision making.
It is made worse by the fact that most people who say Because Religion have no notion that their own philosophy, such as it is, is also based on assumptions; or indeed that they have a philosophy at all. There is frequently a naive belief in science and progress (not amongst real scientists, who are often both wise and aware of the limitations of their discipline, but in society more broadly) that does not stand a moment's scrutiny; and that is often married to an incompatible belief that everything is relative. When I ask them to name their assumptions, they are typically unable to do so.
So I discern both a paucity of thought and a staggering arrogance. It was Maslow, of all people who nailed it. We are raising, he lamented, a generation that has lost that great Jewish virtue: respect for the teacher, for the wiser man.
Whilst Isaac Newton was not the first to say it (Wikipedia tells me the idea can be traced back at least as far as Bernard of Chartres), Newton's understanding that If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants is a great insight. Yet by encouraging 'independent learners' to work everything out for themselves (in the humanities, less so in the sciences, perhaps) we are depriving them of that high vantage point and encouraging them to squirm in the mud, all the while believing that they are wiser than their forebears (and anyone contemporary who has the temerity to disagree with them) Because Science (or sometimes, Because Progress).
Faugh!
Friday, 4 December 2015
What is a University for?
I was irritated by this article on students and their various campaigns for trigger warnings and the denial of a 'platform' for people whose views they don't like. The writer, an academic from Oxford, I am sorry to say, writes stuff like this:
As unions are in the factory, so social media can be on the campus: an organising tool against authority, linking together voices that are otherwise marginalised and disconnected.
Such tools would be useless, however, if students didn’t know what to do with them. Critics assert that modern students are losing their powers of critical thinking, but what we are actually seeing is that power in action: students are using their critical faculties to uncover structures of power in their own academic and social environments.
I mean, really... 'Structures of power,' like lecturing on the canon of English Literature, or the law surrounding rape, or inviting distinguished and controversial academics to speak. What excellent powers of 'critical thinking' are on display here.
Later he writes:
When these people and their allies fight back and assert their own rights over the spaces they live in, that’s not “vindictive protectiveness” – it’s politics.
It is indeed. And he approves whole-heartedly. All of which might make you wonder what he thinks a University is, and what he thinks it is for. But he does give us some clues:
It could be, in fact, that the traditional model of the university just isn’t compatible with this newly empowered, student-led politics of social justice.
Now, I have nothing against justice, social or otherwise, but this political philosophy begs so many questions.
I am reminded of Maslow's lament, as he observed the unintended results of his and Carl Rogers' work, that learners were losing all respect for their teachers. He saw this as entirely antithetical to his Jewish heritage, and more broadly to the heritage of civilisation, which assumes that the young, ignorant and inexperienced may benefit from exposure to the wisdom, learning and experience of the wise.
And surely that is the premise of a University; along with the notion that by associating with others, also seeking learning, we may be educated.
But the vision of a University we are offered here raises a question: what is a University for? Is it for learning, or is it for social activism? The two are not necessarily opposed, but they certainly may be.
For the approach of this type of activism seems predicated on the assumption that they know all the answers, whereas I think one of the most profound things one should learn at University is that we don't.
All of which made me reflect on my University days. I remember the self-righteous zeal of youth that made me and a friend go on an expedition with the Hunt Saboteurs, whom we had met at the Freshers' Fair. One of the huntsmen took the time to stop and talk to us, which was both coolheaded and brave given the upset and abuse we were determined to mete out. He asked why we were there, and what we thought were better solutions to the problems of foxes tearing chickens and lambs apart. He explained the difficulties of any solutions we proposed.
I also reflect on the other Saboteurs. They were not the kinds of undergraduate I often met. They were very posh, living in a very nice house in Boar's Hill. It struck me, as I reflected on the day, that their protest was really adolescent counter-dependency: a way of hitting back at their own upbringing. They were not interested, for example, in the conversation with the huntsman that my friend and I had. They just wanted to shout and spray their Anti Mate (the Sabs weapon of choice, back in the day...).
I do not know if the huntsman was right in his arguments or not; but he did make me realise that I knew next to nothing about what I was so self-righteously agitating about. It was one of the more important, and most memorable, lessons of my university career.
Sunday, 22 November 2015
An Artistic Education
All this talk of art and music, and especially my passing comment about the need for education in order to discern the good from the bad, made me reflect on what I meant by education in this context, and indeed on my own artistic education.
By artistic education, I don't mean teaching This is the canon: Shakespeare at the top and the rest in some sort of hierarchy beneath him; or Mozart at the top at the top and the rest in some sort of hierarchy beneath him; or Leonardo da Vinci at the top and the rest in some sort of hierarchy beneath him...
I think it a gentler and more reflective process; as much to do with exposure, the removal of barriers, and perhaps the discussion of context and why and how some works get their effects, why some are perceived as great, and so on.
The result of that may be an educated taste that goes a little deeper than the immediacy of an uneducated taste. I have likened this before to weaning children off a diet of junk food.
If the only music a child is ever exposed to is what's currently in the charts, or used in advertisements, or accompanying tv programmes or computer games, it is pretty pointless to expect him or her, at first hearing, to enjoy the Beethoven string quartets, beautiful though they are.
I make no secret of the fact that the visual arts are not my forte. All I learned in art classes at school was that I cannot draw: a conviction it took me many years to shed. (For anyone similarly afflicted, I recommend Betty Edwards' book, Drawing on the Left Side of the Brain). However, I was fortunate that an enlightened General Studies teacher told me to go to the National Gallery and choose a painting, and look at it for thirty minutes. That seemed a tall order, but I decided to give it a go, and stood in front of one of Monet's paintings of waterlilies.
Prior to that experience, I had always preferred photographic realism: the more like the real thing it looked, the better I thought it was. Monet taught me to look differently.
My musical education was richer. My father was a fine pianist, so from earliest childhood I would go to sleep to the sound of him playing Bach, or Schubert, or Chopin, or Rachmaninov or... Then as a schoolboy I joined a good church choir, and quickly learned to love early polyphony. It was very obvious to me that Byrd, Tallis, Gibbons and so on were doing something rather more wonderful than Gregory Murray, Wilfrid Trotman or Joseph Gelineau.
Strangely (or perhaps not, given the historical context, early 1970s) we sang almost no chant. All I can remember is a version of the Ave Maris Stella, with alternate chant and polyphonic verses, which was magnificent. We also sang some Duruflé, based on chant melodies, which was also ravishing. But my love of chant comes much later in my musical education, and is based on obedience to the Church, and then the discipline of learning to sing it, and, eventually, falling in love with it.
As I wrote that, I suddenly wondered how we have educated the children, artistically. They have not had the same opportunities as me: no good church choir locally, no National Gallery... But I think we have managed to achieve the same basics via different means. They have all learned to play at least two instruments to a reasonable standard, and played in the school orchestra and various other ensembles, which has given them a fairly good exposure to a broad repertoire. It must be a product of Original Sin that their musical taste (like mine) remains execrable. But while they may, for choice, fill their playlists with Disney songs, they genuinely enjoy it when we get the opportunity to go to a concert and hear, dare I say it, good music.
In the visual arts, their school education has been very much better than mine was; and not only have they learned to draw and paint, but they have been encouraged to do artists' copies, which again has exposed them to a range of works, and some understanding of both aesthetics and technique. In that field, as in so many, they are ahead of me.
And in literature, I do my best with them. Again, they read a ton of junk, but in between they occasionally read something worth reading; and again, genuinely enjoy the live screenings from the National or RSC (we saw the Broadway production of 'Of Mice and Men' this week, and very good it was too. And Dominique loved it).
So, a long and rambling post, but I think the point I am edging towards making is that the need for education to appreciate and evaluate art is not some induction into a world of snobbery; but rather a truly Catholic approach that exposes one to a wide range of works, and that good learning will ensue.
By artistic education, I don't mean teaching This is the canon: Shakespeare at the top and the rest in some sort of hierarchy beneath him; or Mozart at the top at the top and the rest in some sort of hierarchy beneath him; or Leonardo da Vinci at the top and the rest in some sort of hierarchy beneath him...
I think it a gentler and more reflective process; as much to do with exposure, the removal of barriers, and perhaps the discussion of context and why and how some works get their effects, why some are perceived as great, and so on.
The result of that may be an educated taste that goes a little deeper than the immediacy of an uneducated taste. I have likened this before to weaning children off a diet of junk food.
If the only music a child is ever exposed to is what's currently in the charts, or used in advertisements, or accompanying tv programmes or computer games, it is pretty pointless to expect him or her, at first hearing, to enjoy the Beethoven string quartets, beautiful though they are.
I make no secret of the fact that the visual arts are not my forte. All I learned in art classes at school was that I cannot draw: a conviction it took me many years to shed. (For anyone similarly afflicted, I recommend Betty Edwards' book, Drawing on the Left Side of the Brain). However, I was fortunate that an enlightened General Studies teacher told me to go to the National Gallery and choose a painting, and look at it for thirty minutes. That seemed a tall order, but I decided to give it a go, and stood in front of one of Monet's paintings of waterlilies.
Prior to that experience, I had always preferred photographic realism: the more like the real thing it looked, the better I thought it was. Monet taught me to look differently.My musical education was richer. My father was a fine pianist, so from earliest childhood I would go to sleep to the sound of him playing Bach, or Schubert, or Chopin, or Rachmaninov or... Then as a schoolboy I joined a good church choir, and quickly learned to love early polyphony. It was very obvious to me that Byrd, Tallis, Gibbons and so on were doing something rather more wonderful than Gregory Murray, Wilfrid Trotman or Joseph Gelineau.
Strangely (or perhaps not, given the historical context, early 1970s) we sang almost no chant. All I can remember is a version of the Ave Maris Stella, with alternate chant and polyphonic verses, which was magnificent. We also sang some Duruflé, based on chant melodies, which was also ravishing. But my love of chant comes much later in my musical education, and is based on obedience to the Church, and then the discipline of learning to sing it, and, eventually, falling in love with it.
As I wrote that, I suddenly wondered how we have educated the children, artistically. They have not had the same opportunities as me: no good church choir locally, no National Gallery... But I think we have managed to achieve the same basics via different means. They have all learned to play at least two instruments to a reasonable standard, and played in the school orchestra and various other ensembles, which has given them a fairly good exposure to a broad repertoire. It must be a product of Original Sin that their musical taste (like mine) remains execrable. But while they may, for choice, fill their playlists with Disney songs, they genuinely enjoy it when we get the opportunity to go to a concert and hear, dare I say it, good music.
In the visual arts, their school education has been very much better than mine was; and not only have they learned to draw and paint, but they have been encouraged to do artists' copies, which again has exposed them to a range of works, and some understanding of both aesthetics and technique. In that field, as in so many, they are ahead of me.
And in literature, I do my best with them. Again, they read a ton of junk, but in between they occasionally read something worth reading; and again, genuinely enjoy the live screenings from the National or RSC (we saw the Broadway production of 'Of Mice and Men' this week, and very good it was too. And Dominique loved it).
So, a long and rambling post, but I think the point I am edging towards making is that the need for education to appreciate and evaluate art is not some induction into a world of snobbery; but rather a truly Catholic approach that exposes one to a wide range of works, and that good learning will ensue.
Monday, 20 July 2015
More on ex-priests and ex-nuns as teachers
A priest writes (starting with a quotation from my blog earlier today, here):
“I am not saying that no ex-priest or ex-nun should ever be employed as a teacher.”
This was indeed the case pre-Vatican II.
It might have seemed rather harsh – but I suspect that the reasons for it were as follows:
- To avoid sending mixed messages to children. A priest makes promises for life – like a married couple.
- Some (not all) former priests and nuns may disagree with the Magisterium on some matters of faith or morals.
- Some (not all) former priests and nuns may have lost their faith.
Nowadays (so I am told by those who are more knowledgeable than me) former priests and nuns may become teachers at a Catholic School – on a case by case basis.
But obviously great prudence and care is needed to avoid scandalising children.
Sadly I suspect great prudence and care are not always taken.
--
QED
Catholic Schools as Sanctuaries
I knew there was something else... something that has been niggling at the back of my mind over the weekend.
And I woke up with that sudden clarity induced by a glass or two of red last night and a shower this morning.
It is this: I think the practice of appointing ex-nuns and ex-priests (I use the term in the colloquial sense - priestly ordination is, of course, permanent) to teach in our Catholic schools is a very risky one.
It has been going on for decades now: someone leaves the convent or the presbytery and immediately turns up teaching in a Catholic School.
Here's why that concerns me. I think that teaching in a Catholic School is also a vocation. A Catholic School should be a sanctuary dedicated to learning the Faith and how to live as a Catholic adult in a hostile culture, not a sanctuary for people on the run from their vocation, or struggling to come to terms with themselves.
That, I am sure, sounds harsh. But the reality is that if people are leaving the priesthood or the religious life, they have either discovered that they have mistaken their vocation, or are in the process of abandoning it. Either of these realities is likely to be a traumatic and unsettling time for them: it is not the time to start teaching children.
Yet somehow, Catholic Schools repeatedly appoint people in that situation. I suspect it is as a way of keeping them on the Catholic payroll, as it were, when their lives are in transition. A charitable aim, perhaps, but I think a misguided response.
I am not saying that no ex-priest or ex-nun should ever be employed as a teacher. People who have gone through that trauma are certainly not beyond redemption, and once they have resolved their crisis they may make fine teachers.
Nor am I saying that the Church should not find ways to support such people: that may indeed be an obligation, and is almost certainly an act of charity.
But it is also true that while going through such turmoil, people are almost by definition not in the most stable state. Many also have issues with the Church and its teaching.
So I think that at the very least there should be both a cooling off period, and then a process of genuine scrutiny before appointing such people to teaching positions in Catholic Schools. Our children deserve no less; and yet that is not what I see happening.
And I woke up with that sudden clarity induced by a glass or two of red last night and a shower this morning.
It is this: I think the practice of appointing ex-nuns and ex-priests (I use the term in the colloquial sense - priestly ordination is, of course, permanent) to teach in our Catholic schools is a very risky one.
It has been going on for decades now: someone leaves the convent or the presbytery and immediately turns up teaching in a Catholic School.
Here's why that concerns me. I think that teaching in a Catholic School is also a vocation. A Catholic School should be a sanctuary dedicated to learning the Faith and how to live as a Catholic adult in a hostile culture, not a sanctuary for people on the run from their vocation, or struggling to come to terms with themselves.
That, I am sure, sounds harsh. But the reality is that if people are leaving the priesthood or the religious life, they have either discovered that they have mistaken their vocation, or are in the process of abandoning it. Either of these realities is likely to be a traumatic and unsettling time for them: it is not the time to start teaching children.
Yet somehow, Catholic Schools repeatedly appoint people in that situation. I suspect it is as a way of keeping them on the Catholic payroll, as it were, when their lives are in transition. A charitable aim, perhaps, but I think a misguided response.
I am not saying that no ex-priest or ex-nun should ever be employed as a teacher. People who have gone through that trauma are certainly not beyond redemption, and once they have resolved their crisis they may make fine teachers.
Nor am I saying that the Church should not find ways to support such people: that may indeed be an obligation, and is almost certainly an act of charity.
But it is also true that while going through such turmoil, people are almost by definition not in the most stable state. Many also have issues with the Church and its teaching.
So I think that at the very least there should be both a cooling off period, and then a process of genuine scrutiny before appointing such people to teaching positions in Catholic Schools. Our children deserve no less; and yet that is not what I see happening.
Sunday, 12 July 2015
James Arthur at Porta Fidei
A bit belatedly, I am blogging about another of the talks at the excellent Porta Fidei conference in Carlisle. I wrote about Adrian Pabst's excellent address here, and now I want to summarise on the other speaker I found particularly good, James Arthur.
His name, and a little of his work, were already familiar to me, as Michael Merrick - who organised the conference - had recommended his book The Ebbing Tide to me some time ago. Doubtless it was because of this book, and his subsequent work that Michael invited him to speak; and a very good speaker he was.
I start, as ever, with the caveat that this account is drawn from my memories and notes. However, at the bottom, I include a link to the video of his talk, so you can get the authentic version there. (That does, of course, raise the questions, which I have asked myself, why write my account when the original is online. I do so for two reasons: it helps my recall, and it is possible that some people may read this who would not look at the video, or who will only do so having read this account.)
It was, perhaps, a sad sign of our times that Professor Arthur explained that he would read much of his talk, so that he could not be misrepresented later, as Catholic education is a dangerous topic to talk about! (In the light of the Tim Hunt affair, one sees only to clearly the wisdom of his prudence!)
He started by discussing Catholic identity and Catholic institutions. He pointed out that people are currently anxious about the many and complex identities they subscribe to, and asked how we, as Catholics, are different, and what difference that makes.
His understanding is that Catholic identity is anchored in our baptism, and that our Institutions should reflect that Catholic identity, by being extensions of Catholic communities and expressions of Catholic teaching in practice.
He noted that in our time, there is a conflict between social principles of authority and the Catholic identity, and that in our secular modernity, many Catholics live in harmony with the social principles of our time, and thus repudiate what we believe. They self-identify as Catholics in a manner that he justly described as tribal.
He then turned his attention to three types of Catholic Institutions: Adoption agencies, hospices and schools. All three were regulated by the Church, but over time have grown supported by government funding, and are therefore subject to government regulation. They all now serve the general population, which raises the question, what does Catholic mean in this context? Arthur's answer is that should be manifest particularly in intentions and motivations: to serve Christ, by seeking the good of the individual, the common good, and particularly the good of the poor.
Thinking of hospices, they are rightly open to all who need them. But once euthanasia is legalised, how will they stay open and still be faithful?
The adoption agencies were originally established to preserve the Faith of children, which meant placing them with married Catholic couples. But that was redefined, in the name of being 'effective' so that any couple was allowed to adopt. So when Same Sex Marriage is legalised, how to they operate in a Catholic fashion?
Turning his attention to schools, he summarised the impact of demographic changes on them: 30% of pupils and 45% of teachers are non-Catholic.
He noted, in passing, the outrage occasioned when the Catholic Archbishop of San Francisco recently insisted in Catholic teaching in the schools, commenting that if it is possible to resist such pressure in San Francisco, then it should be possible anywhere!
However, he discerns a drift towards secularisation in our schools, not a deliberate one, but through a process of socialisation. Some of the clues to watch for are when the talk is of 'Christian' not 'Catholic,' of 'Gospel values' not 'teaching the Faith,' when there is a concern for secular values and secular alliances, when recruitment is based only on teaching ability, and when the emphasis is on activism, not doctrine.
We need to resist this and develop a better self-understanding; we need to evangelise! And we need to remember that we are heirs to a huge treasury of moral and scientific learning; and also remember what Chesterton said: that every education teaches a philosophy (and that if we leave a void, our secular society will fill it).
His name, and a little of his work, were already familiar to me, as Michael Merrick - who organised the conference - had recommended his book The Ebbing Tide to me some time ago. Doubtless it was because of this book, and his subsequent work that Michael invited him to speak; and a very good speaker he was.
I start, as ever, with the caveat that this account is drawn from my memories and notes. However, at the bottom, I include a link to the video of his talk, so you can get the authentic version there. (That does, of course, raise the questions, which I have asked myself, why write my account when the original is online. I do so for two reasons: it helps my recall, and it is possible that some people may read this who would not look at the video, or who will only do so having read this account.)
It was, perhaps, a sad sign of our times that Professor Arthur explained that he would read much of his talk, so that he could not be misrepresented later, as Catholic education is a dangerous topic to talk about! (In the light of the Tim Hunt affair, one sees only to clearly the wisdom of his prudence!)
He started by discussing Catholic identity and Catholic institutions. He pointed out that people are currently anxious about the many and complex identities they subscribe to, and asked how we, as Catholics, are different, and what difference that makes.
His understanding is that Catholic identity is anchored in our baptism, and that our Institutions should reflect that Catholic identity, by being extensions of Catholic communities and expressions of Catholic teaching in practice.
He noted that in our time, there is a conflict between social principles of authority and the Catholic identity, and that in our secular modernity, many Catholics live in harmony with the social principles of our time, and thus repudiate what we believe. They self-identify as Catholics in a manner that he justly described as tribal.
He then turned his attention to three types of Catholic Institutions: Adoption agencies, hospices and schools. All three were regulated by the Church, but over time have grown supported by government funding, and are therefore subject to government regulation. They all now serve the general population, which raises the question, what does Catholic mean in this context? Arthur's answer is that should be manifest particularly in intentions and motivations: to serve Christ, by seeking the good of the individual, the common good, and particularly the good of the poor.
Thinking of hospices, they are rightly open to all who need them. But once euthanasia is legalised, how will they stay open and still be faithful?
The adoption agencies were originally established to preserve the Faith of children, which meant placing them with married Catholic couples. But that was redefined, in the name of being 'effective' so that any couple was allowed to adopt. So when Same Sex Marriage is legalised, how to they operate in a Catholic fashion?
Turning his attention to schools, he summarised the impact of demographic changes on them: 30% of pupils and 45% of teachers are non-Catholic.
He noted, in passing, the outrage occasioned when the Catholic Archbishop of San Francisco recently insisted in Catholic teaching in the schools, commenting that if it is possible to resist such pressure in San Francisco, then it should be possible anywhere!
However, he discerns a drift towards secularisation in our schools, not a deliberate one, but through a process of socialisation. Some of the clues to watch for are when the talk is of 'Christian' not 'Catholic,' of 'Gospel values' not 'teaching the Faith,' when there is a concern for secular values and secular alliances, when recruitment is based only on teaching ability, and when the emphasis is on activism, not doctrine.
We need to resist this and develop a better self-understanding; we need to evangelise! And we need to remember that we are heirs to a huge treasury of moral and scientific learning; and also remember what Chesterton said: that every education teaches a philosophy (and that if we leave a void, our secular society will fill it).
Thursday, 2 July 2015
Adrian Pabst at Porta Fidei (ii)
Michael Merrick, who organised the excellent Porta Fidei conference last week has just posted a video of Adrian Pabst's talk to YouTube.
That will enable scholars to compare my notes of his talk (here) with what he actually said, thus discerning my inaccuracies and biases, and deducing many interesting things about my psyche.
But sensible people will simply listen to Adrian's very stimulating presentation.
That will enable scholars to compare my notes of his talk (here) with what he actually said, thus discerning my inaccuracies and biases, and deducing many interesting things about my psyche.
But sensible people will simply listen to Adrian's very stimulating presentation.
Monday, 29 June 2015
Adrian Pabst at Porta Fidei
The first speaker at the excellent Porta
Fidei conference was Adrian Pabst. He set the context for the whole day with a
wide ranging survey of the context within which we need to consider Catholic
Education in this country.
He started by exploring contemporary
society and in particular contemporary liberalism. He traced an interesting convergence between the new left
and the new right, with social liberty and economic liberty converging to promote a view of freedom that means
one can do just as one likes. Equality, he pointed out, has come to mean a new
form of sameness: we are all subject to the same societal norms, and these are
often the norms of minorities.
Behind the modern liberal individualism,
then, lurks social cultural conformism: we are all consumers. He also mentioned that this is nothing
new, citing de Tocqueville’s observation in the US in the 18th
century: the most free, yet the most conformist of countries…
Thus we have choices, but the conditions of
those choices are never debated. And that is where the new left and the new
right are most similar, not least as they ignore inherited ethics and the
associated customs of society.
At the heart of this liberal tradition is
indifference to notions of truth and goodness; and so ‘rights’ replace the
Common Good, and as objective fact is separated from subjective reality, people
become mere cogs in the system. All values are seen as subjective as we collectively
slide into sophistry, with truth at the service of power, giving rise to
artificial constructs like the ‘Social Contract.’
This results in a world view that is
contrary to Catholic tradition, being fragmented and atomised; and that is no
accident. But this world view flows from decisions, not knowledge; whether it
is Rousseau’s decision to be pessimistic about social life, or Hobbes’ to be
pessimistic about the individual; or Protestantism’s view that we are depraved
by the Fall (rejecting the Catholic notion of the transformative impact of the
Incarnation which now operates through the Sacraments and gives us the power to
do good works). All those strands of thought lead to the same place, the
liberal assumption that both society and individuals need to be saved by their
political philosophy – that we need a Social Contract.
He then sketched out some of the implications
of this liberal philosophy. In the first place, Liberalism redefines how we
understand life; it is no longer a gift but a choice; therefore will and
artifice dominate the idea of a telos,
a meaning or purpose beyond our own wills.
That in turn leads to a focus on individual
rights and on social utility.
Education is not seen merely as a benefit to the individual, but also to
the State, pursuing a utilitarian calculus. So education is no longer about
truth, character and virtues; the Social and Natural Sciences are all
utilitarian, and the arts and humanities have no value (and this is reflected
in current policy trends…)
And so we are left with a mass education
that doesn’t benefit individuals or society, but is full of half-truths and
propaganda, creating fake desires to fuel the hedonism on which our society is
increasingly based. If you don’t buy into the popular culture, you are not only
seen as weird, but as someone who may need to be constrained.
The emergent ‘multicultural meritocracy’
leads to a self-righteous moralism, in which people imagine they have got
whatever they have through merit, and therefore deserve what they get. The
natural fruit of this is an elite that is so self-assured that it can justify
whatever rewards it can gain for itself.
A Catholic Education, Pabst maintains,
should be different. It should seek to link soul, brain and body, to be about
truth and goodness, to promote virtue, and to teach how universal truths may be
applied in particular ways.
A key question for Catholic Education is How do we form Virtue? A first step is
to do away with false dualisms. For example, we should blend the hierarchy of
the wise and learned, with equality of participation of the learners (who may,
of course, in the fullness of time become the wise and the learned) with the
intention of transmitting wisdom.
Likewise the government should not direct
education in its minutiae, but nor should it abdicate its responsibility, but
rather uphold the common good, by providing guidelines and promoting true subsidiarity.
At tertiary level, the relentless
specialisation needs to end, so that scientists study the arts, too; and that
we recognise the value of vocational training and education over Micky Mouse
degrees that leave students with nothing except a huge debt.
At secondary level, a restrictive and
prescriptive curriculum is very problematic; guidelines and local decisions
would be a better model. Recruitment, training and employment conditions for
teachers all need to be improved. And a key question for Faith Schools is How can we be a model that others will want
to follow?
In short, Liberalism is not oriented to the Common Good: that should
be our distinctive contribution.
--
Inevitably, I have reconstructed the themes
of this presentation from my notes and my memory, so apologise now for
over-simplifying what was a very rich presentation, and particularly if I have
inadvertently misrepresented it in any way.
I understand it may be published in due
course and will certainly link to that.
But I did find it a very thoughtful
analysis, which provided an excellent context for the rest of the day’s
discussions – to which I will return in future posts.
--
Update: Michael Merrick has now posted the talk to Youtube
--
Update: Michael Merrick has now posted the talk to Youtube
Saturday, 9 May 2015
It's all kicking off in Carlisle!
So the good people of Carlisle, and those lucky enough to live within striking distance, as we do, are spoiled for choice.
On the 4th of June, there is a sung Mass in the Extraordinary Form, with a polyphonic choir, for the Feast of Corpus Christi. That will be celebrated at 7pm followed by all night adoration praying for Christian families: Our Lady and St Joseph's Church in Warwick Square.
That very same evening is the second of the Faith on Tap meetings, with the Dominican, Fr Lawrence Lew, speaking on the Liturgy, at 8.00. That will be at St Margaret Mary Parish Community Centre, on Scalegate Road. You may be a a little late for this, if you go to the Mass, but it is just about practical.
Then, of course, you can return to Warwick Square for all night adoration.
Not only that, but they have also just returned John Stevenson, a very sound, pro-Life MP.
And I hear that the first Faith on Tap meeting, which I sadly missed as I was working away from home, was a great success, with Sr Roseann Reddy (of Glasgow’s Sisters of the Gospel of Life) a truly inspiring speaker.
Carlisle is clearly the place to be!
On the 4th of June, there is a sung Mass in the Extraordinary Form, with a polyphonic choir, for the Feast of Corpus Christi. That will be celebrated at 7pm followed by all night adoration praying for Christian families: Our Lady and St Joseph's Church in Warwick Square.
That very same evening is the second of the Faith on Tap meetings, with the Dominican, Fr Lawrence Lew, speaking on the Liturgy, at 8.00. That will be at St Margaret Mary Parish Community Centre, on Scalegate Road. You may be a a little late for this, if you go to the Mass, but it is just about practical.Then, of course, you can return to Warwick Square for all night adoration.
Not only that, but they have also just returned John Stevenson, a very sound, pro-Life MP.
And I hear that the first Faith on Tap meeting, which I sadly missed as I was working away from home, was a great success, with Sr Roseann Reddy (of Glasgow’s Sisters of the Gospel of Life) a truly inspiring speaker.
Carlisle is clearly the place to be!
Thursday, 19 March 2015
Consent
The latest guidance on SRE is going to have children talking about pornography and consent in school from the age of 11 up.
I will pass lightly over the topic of pornography, assuming that anyone who reads this blog will realise how evil it is, and how thoroughly misguided it is to encourage children to discuss it, particularly in mixed-sex classes.
I want to dwell on the issue of consent. Recently, a blog post was written and widely promoted and praised on social media, explaining consent by means of the metaphor of making someone a cup of tea (here). It is very well done -and it is as fallacious as the lessons to which our children will soon be subjected.
The fundamental error is to assume that sexual intercourse is as trivial as having a cup of tea. Clearly, that is a nonsense. Some of the immediate differences that spring to mind are:
and so on.
So perhaps a better analogy would be two organisations, or even nations, agreeing to work together on a matter of significance.
In that instance, typically the first thing to do is to establish a memorandum of understanding, or a framework agreement. Because this is important, there may even be the requirement for some formality, and witnesses. Then, within that context, specific actions by either or both parties may be agreed.
The point of that process is to minimise the likelihood of misunderstanding, cheating, exploitation, and so on, when the stakes are high and the desires of the various parties coincide in part but not necessarily in whole.
And of course, that is what civilised societies have developed with regard to sexual intercourse. The memorandum of understanding, or framework agreement, is analogous to marriage. Each party agrees to the overall terms of engagement, with witnesses, so that the risk of being misled, or hurt, or having to deal with the consequences alone, are vastly reduced. Within that framework agreement, of course, consent with regard to individual acts is also necessary: but the chances of meaningful consent are far greater.
Indeed, over the centuries, and enlightened by the teaching of both Natural Law and religious wisdom, we had reached a stage where we knew what the framework agreement needed to cover: a life-long, exclusive commitment to be there for each other, no matter what, and to raise the children of the marriage together.
But the consent envisaged by the blog post I linked to, and the ideology it represents (typified by Brook and other self-appointed experts who dictate education policy in this country) is quite different. It is a spur of the moment consent, easily obtained by false promises, or simply honeyed words and lust, and yet it is taken as the one criterion of morality.
And that is what our kids will soon be being taught: if you fancy it, say yes, and everything will be wonderful. And if you don't say no.
As if that is going to work...
I will pass lightly over the topic of pornography, assuming that anyone who reads this blog will realise how evil it is, and how thoroughly misguided it is to encourage children to discuss it, particularly in mixed-sex classes.
I want to dwell on the issue of consent. Recently, a blog post was written and widely promoted and praised on social media, explaining consent by means of the metaphor of making someone a cup of tea (here). It is very well done -and it is as fallacious as the lessons to which our children will soon be subjected.
The fundamental error is to assume that sexual intercourse is as trivial as having a cup of tea. Clearly, that is a nonsense. Some of the immediate differences that spring to mind are:
- the meaning of the act
- the possible consequences of the act, both positive and negative
- the implications of the act with regard to other people
- the strength of the interest of one party in the other party's engaging in the act
- (related to the last) the likelihood of deception in the asking for consent
and so on.
So perhaps a better analogy would be two organisations, or even nations, agreeing to work together on a matter of significance.
In that instance, typically the first thing to do is to establish a memorandum of understanding, or a framework agreement. Because this is important, there may even be the requirement for some formality, and witnesses. Then, within that context, specific actions by either or both parties may be agreed.
The point of that process is to minimise the likelihood of misunderstanding, cheating, exploitation, and so on, when the stakes are high and the desires of the various parties coincide in part but not necessarily in whole.
And of course, that is what civilised societies have developed with regard to sexual intercourse. The memorandum of understanding, or framework agreement, is analogous to marriage. Each party agrees to the overall terms of engagement, with witnesses, so that the risk of being misled, or hurt, or having to deal with the consequences alone, are vastly reduced. Within that framework agreement, of course, consent with regard to individual acts is also necessary: but the chances of meaningful consent are far greater.
Indeed, over the centuries, and enlightened by the teaching of both Natural Law and religious wisdom, we had reached a stage where we knew what the framework agreement needed to cover: a life-long, exclusive commitment to be there for each other, no matter what, and to raise the children of the marriage together.
But the consent envisaged by the blog post I linked to, and the ideology it represents (typified by Brook and other self-appointed experts who dictate education policy in this country) is quite different. It is a spur of the moment consent, easily obtained by false promises, or simply honeyed words and lust, and yet it is taken as the one criterion of morality.
And that is what our kids will soon be being taught: if you fancy it, say yes, and everything will be wonderful. And if you don't say no.
As if that is going to work...
Monday, 1 September 2014
A Queer Business...
'Our pastoral care policy is light on dogma and heavy on compassion and celebration of diversity.'
Thus Jarlath Burns, the principal of St Pauls, Bessbrook, the school which proudly sent pupils to the Gay Pride march in Newry. He also tweeted:
'So proud of these pupils who attended @prideinnewry parade today. @stpaulsbbrook
#inclusion '
The school had announced its intention on Twitter (and Facebook), too:
We are inviting Year 13/14 students to represent our school at the Pride In NewryMarch on Saturday. We are proud to be a school that embraces diversity and promotes inclusivity, further demonstrating commitment to our Catholic ethos. Those interested should PM for further details. The Rainbow flag will be flown at the school to mark our support for equality for all.
Thanks to the Faith in our Families site, I was able to find out a little more. They linked to an article about Jarlath Burns which quoted him more extensively. The headline was ‘I would die for Catholic education’ which is a good sentiment, and Mr Burns, who is apparently better known as a sportsman than a pedagogue, said several quite sensible things. However, he also said (talking about homosexuality):
“This is one area of Church teaching where I part company completely with the Church.”
“Why should we say to gay people that it is not a sin to be gay but it is a sin to have a partner and to practise homosexuality? That is a very prescriptive thing to say about people who can offer so much to us and to society.”
Thus Jarlath Burns, the principal of St Pauls, Bessbrook, the school which proudly sent pupils to the Gay Pride march in Newry. He also tweeted:
'So proud of these pupils who attended @prideinnewry parade today. @stpaulsbbrook
#inclusion '
The school had announced its intention on Twitter (and Facebook), too:
We are inviting Year 13/14 students to represent our school at the Pride In NewryMarch on Saturday. We are proud to be a school that embraces diversity and promotes inclusivity, further demonstrating commitment to our Catholic ethos. Those interested should PM for further details. The Rainbow flag will be flown at the school to mark our support for equality for all.
Thanks to the Faith in our Families site, I was able to find out a little more. They linked to an article about Jarlath Burns which quoted him more extensively. The headline was ‘I would die for Catholic education’ which is a good sentiment, and Mr Burns, who is apparently better known as a sportsman than a pedagogue, said several quite sensible things. However, he also said (talking about homosexuality):
“This is one area of Church teaching where I part company completely with the Church.”
“Why should we say to gay people that it is not a sin to be gay but it is a sin to have a partner and to practise homosexuality? That is a very prescriptive thing to say about people who can offer so much to us and to society.”
There is much that is wrong here, when one considers the role with which he is entrusted, and the event which he encouraged his pupils to attend: the scandal given; the corruption of the young with a false ideology and so on.
However, what I want to focus on is the ignorance of him as a principal. The paucity of the logic of his comment about 'a very prescriptive thing to say about people who can offer so much to us and to society,' is self-evident, and demonstrates a mind governed by political mantra rather than anything approaching thought.
But it is his previous comment which I find particularly revealing: “This is one area of Church teaching where I part company completely with the Church.” That is clearly a nonsense, but it is a very prevalent one. One cannot 'part company' with the Church on one issue like this. For it is taught in the Catechism. So one is then saying that the Catechism is wrong. But the authority of the Catechism rests on the teaching office of the Pope and the Bishops in communion with them. So one is saying that one does not accept their authoritative teaching authority. And so on. Reject part, and you reject far more, undermining the very basis on which belief is founded.
Yet so many people seem to think that they can 'in good conscience' 'part company' with the Church on a particular teaching which they find difficult (most often, on examination, because they have not really understood it).
This, it seems to me, is one of the major problems faced by the Church today: the rejection of authority and its replacement by one's personal opinions (based, all too often, on the values of the world...)
Autonomy is so highly-regarded in our culture that to question this is seen as almost medieval. People appeal to the Christ of the Bible who was, apparently, all about inclusiveness of all regardless of belief or behaviour. A Christ who, it seems, 'is light on dogma and heavy on compassion and celebration of diversity.'
The trouble is, I don't find that Christ when I read the Bible. I find a Christ who is about obedience - his own to the Father, and ours to Him and to His Father. I find a Christ who is about making judgements between good and evil and telling us the consequences in no uncertain terms. A Christ whose compassion compels Him to talk repeatedly about the reality of Hell and the risk we face of eternal damnation if we do not obey; for we shall be judged by our actions, as today's Gospel reminded us. A Christ who says:
Go, and sin no more!
Saturday, 19 July 2014
The Hidden Life
I have been reflecting on Our Lord's hidden life: that period between His infancy and His public ministry, with help (naturally) from Frank Sheed's To Know Christ Jesus.
Apart from the Finding in the Temple, we know almost nothing, of course. But almost is the operative word.
We do know a little, and can deduce a little more, and even speculate a bit beyond that.
What we know is that 'He went home and was subject to them.'
We also know where home was, a village called Nazareth, and that He was raised there by the Blessed Virgin and St Joseph. We know that they will have taught Him, by word and example, as He grew up; and we can assume that He went to the village school, probably in the synagogue (or perhaps outside in hot weather) where the curriculum would have been reading, writing and knowledge of sacred Scripture.
As a good Jewish family, they would certainly have observed the Sabbath, and heard the Shema read at the start of each synagogue service: three passages of scripture that they would also have recited twice a day at home (two from Deuteronomy, and one from Numbers).
We can safely assume that He worked with St Joseph, the Carpenter. After all, He remained at home till the age of thirty.
And I think we can speculate a little, too. For example, it is unthinkable to me that these carpenters of Nazareth would have turned out anything less than the very best they could. He would necessarily have been skilled at, and I surmise would have loved, his craft.
Likewise, they will have sold fairly; in that culture, that would have necessitated bargaining - for that is the process by which fair deals were reached.
We can also deduce that He did nothing spectacular: His neighbours were astonished when He suddenly came to prominence.
And He did not marry. Sheed points out how unusual that would have been for a man of His age, to be still a bachelor: but He had a different vocation.
So what light do we gain from this? I think it valuable. A certain type of Christian will often say 'What would Jesus do?' I am generally wary of that approach; apart from anything else, what He did was always the action of God Incarnate. Moreover, His public life is so different from the situation in which we normally find ourselves.
However, in the Hidden Life, there may well be things to apply to our daily lives: fair dealing, doing the very best we can in our work, commitment to prayer, obedience to our lawful superiors, and fidelity to our vocation. And the fact that He chose to spend thirty years living a very ordinary life in a village, but always ready to turn His hand to God's work, is a wonderful reminder of the value of the everyday - when offered to God.
Apart from the Finding in the Temple, we know almost nothing, of course. But almost is the operative word.
We do know a little, and can deduce a little more, and even speculate a bit beyond that.
What we know is that 'He went home and was subject to them.'
We also know where home was, a village called Nazareth, and that He was raised there by the Blessed Virgin and St Joseph. We know that they will have taught Him, by word and example, as He grew up; and we can assume that He went to the village school, probably in the synagogue (or perhaps outside in hot weather) where the curriculum would have been reading, writing and knowledge of sacred Scripture.
As a good Jewish family, they would certainly have observed the Sabbath, and heard the Shema read at the start of each synagogue service: three passages of scripture that they would also have recited twice a day at home (two from Deuteronomy, and one from Numbers).
We can safely assume that He worked with St Joseph, the Carpenter. After all, He remained at home till the age of thirty.
And I think we can speculate a little, too. For example, it is unthinkable to me that these carpenters of Nazareth would have turned out anything less than the very best they could. He would necessarily have been skilled at, and I surmise would have loved, his craft.
Likewise, they will have sold fairly; in that culture, that would have necessitated bargaining - for that is the process by which fair deals were reached.
We can also deduce that He did nothing spectacular: His neighbours were astonished when He suddenly came to prominence.
And He did not marry. Sheed points out how unusual that would have been for a man of His age, to be still a bachelor: but He had a different vocation.
So what light do we gain from this? I think it valuable. A certain type of Christian will often say 'What would Jesus do?' I am generally wary of that approach; apart from anything else, what He did was always the action of God Incarnate. Moreover, His public life is so different from the situation in which we normally find ourselves.
However, in the Hidden Life, there may well be things to apply to our daily lives: fair dealing, doing the very best we can in our work, commitment to prayer, obedience to our lawful superiors, and fidelity to our vocation. And the fact that He chose to spend thirty years living a very ordinary life in a village, but always ready to turn His hand to God's work, is a wonderful reminder of the value of the everyday - when offered to God.
Tuesday, 3 June 2014
SRE Consultation
I have just been working on my response to the Inquiry on Sex Education (with thanks to James Preece for the reminder, and to SPUC for their guidance notes.
I note that once submitted, they may not be used for any other purpose - including, presumably, as matter for a blog post. However, I can see no reason why I should not publish my draft notes, and invite others interested to comment and help me clarify and correct any points.
And, of course, if anyone wishes to contribute to the inquiry himself or herself, my draft notes might help provide a stimulus to his or her thinking.
So without further ado (except a request to put me right if I have got anything wrong)...
1 Executive
Summary
1.1 It is
troubling that this inquiry is being held so soon after the last: it gives the
impression that parents gave the ‘wrong’ answer and the powers that be will not
rest until the 'right' answer is given.
1.2 At the
heart of this issue are two opposed ideologies: one which sees young people as
active consumers of sex, and one which sees sex as properly reserved for
married life.
1.3 PSHE ought not be made compulsory.
1.4 Schools should be accountable primarily to parents
(and those acting in loco parentis)
in the provision of PSHE.
1.5 Provision should be developed in the context of
parental wishes and the overall aims of promoting stable family life, which is
the bedrock of society, rather than the promotion of hedonism. It should be
based on research into what supports stable family life, not a permissive
ideology.
1.6 The involvement of Brook et al in the development of Supplementary Advice demonstrates which
ideology (see 1.2 above and 3 below) is dominant. That is unacceptable to many
parents, who believe their approach inimical to civilised society.
1.7 In order for the effectiveness of SRE to be
measured, the goals should be clear. I propose the goal should be the reduction
of early sexual activity, and the reduction in the numbers of those engaging with multiple
sexual partners; measures would then be the associated reduction in STIs,
teenage pregnancies and abortions.
All of which would be measurable and all contribute to the Common Good.
2 The
present inquiry
2.1 There
has been a very recent consultation by the Department for Education, with a
report published in March 2013 http://bit.ly/1n81eEx
Many parents responded (more than any other category of respondent)
and the messages were clear: many parents are concerned about SRE, they believe
it is primarily the responsibility of parents, they do not wish schools to be
able to push material or views they deem inappropriate on their young children,
and they reject the idea of compulsion.
2.2
Given that context, and allied with the strong lobbying by interest groups such
as Brook, it is hard to avoid the conclusion that this inquiry is an attempt to
overturn the findings of the previous one. According to those who deem
themselves ‘experts,’ the parents got it wrong. However, many parents trust their own judgement,
particularly when based on traditional wisdom (ie the collective learning of
the generations which preceded us) or religious or philosophical systems which
reject the implicit hedonism of the ‘experts’ preferred approach.
3 Opposing
ideologies
3.1 At the heart of this inquiry are two opposing ideologies. On one side there are
those like me who believe that we should be educating our children for
life-long monogamous marriages; on the other, those who want to see children as
informed, active, consumers of sex. Lest anyone think I am over-stating the
position, visit the www sites for fpa and Brook, where they make their
position, including condoning under-age sex, very explicit. They are advocates
of children’s right to enjoy their sexuality, and are among the country’s
leading campaigners for and providers of abortion.
It is evident that Brook and fpa talk the language of ‘relationships’ to get their material past parents: there is none of that concern in their www sites. But of course any teenager can convince himself or herself that the current infatuation is ‘a meaningful loving relationship.’ That kind of thinking provides no protection against promiscuity - but then it is not intended to.
The middle ground is made up of those who would prefer children to delay having sex and not be too promiscuous, but believe that they can’t be stopped. That risks being a self-fulfilling prophecy, transforming the historical pattern of a very small number of children being sexually active into a much larger number being so.
The evidence on early sexual activity and multiple partners seems pretty clear: the two go together, and are an unhealthy combination, physically, emotionally and psychologically. Oddly, Brook and fpa, who are so keen to deal in fact, ignore these facts absolutely - as they ignore the research which shows that 70% of girls who engage in sex early (pre-16) regret it later on and wish they had waited.
These different ideologies naturally lead to radically different approaches to sex education. Those who think as I do, believe that sex is private (indeed sacred), and that taboos (and even some things labelled by the ‘experts’ as prejudices) are often helpful in protecting children from premature exposure to adult issues and from aberrant thoughts and behaviours. The other side believes that anything goes (as long as it is consensual), and that openness and choice are the primary virtues.
It is evident that Brook and fpa talk the language of ‘relationships’ to get their material past parents: there is none of that concern in their www sites. But of course any teenager can convince himself or herself that the current infatuation is ‘a meaningful loving relationship.’ That kind of thinking provides no protection against promiscuity - but then it is not intended to.
The middle ground is made up of those who would prefer children to delay having sex and not be too promiscuous, but believe that they can’t be stopped. That risks being a self-fulfilling prophecy, transforming the historical pattern of a very small number of children being sexually active into a much larger number being so.
The evidence on early sexual activity and multiple partners seems pretty clear: the two go together, and are an unhealthy combination, physically, emotionally and psychologically. Oddly, Brook and fpa, who are so keen to deal in fact, ignore these facts absolutely - as they ignore the research which shows that 70% of girls who engage in sex early (pre-16) regret it later on and wish they had waited.
These different ideologies naturally lead to radically different approaches to sex education. Those who think as I do, believe that sex is private (indeed sacred), and that taboos (and even some things labelled by the ‘experts’ as prejudices) are often helpful in protecting children from premature exposure to adult issues and from aberrant thoughts and behaviours. The other side believes that anything goes (as long as it is consensual), and that openness and choice are the primary virtues.
3.2 Given
that ideological division, it is clear that large numbers of parents are
rightly suspicious of any approach that is informed by the thinking of Brook
and its ideological allies.
4 Consultation
Point One: Compulsion?
4.1 Compulsion
is a significant decision in any democratic society. It should only be used on
those occasions where it is just, proportionate and necessary for the good of
society and individual members of society. Such a case pertains in both
negative compulsions (laws which restrain behaviours which would be harmful to
others, such as driving at excessive speeds) and positive compulsions (laws
which compel behaviours for the good both of society and of the individual,
such as the education of children).
4.2 In
this case, it is not clear that compulsion would be just, proportionate or
necessary. Indeed, in the view of many parents it would be unjust,
disproportionate and harmful.
4.3
It
is a serious business to bring the law and the legitimate authorities of the
country into disrepute: introducing compulsion against the wishes of parents in
pursuit of a contested agenda pushed by partisan experts would undoubtedly do
that.
4.4 Compulsion
would be a derogation to the state and the education system of responsibilities
which rightly rest, in the first instance, with parents. The fact that some parents are unable
or unwilling to meet their responsibilities is no just reason to strip all
parents of their rights. In terms of the Common Good, parents should be
encouraged to undertake their responsibilities, not prevented from doing so.
4.5 Compulsion
would also absolve schools of the practical need to work in partnership with
parents. A compulsory system would mean simply that the programme recommended
by ‘experts’ drawn from one side of the ideological division over this issue,
could be imposed with no right for parents to withdraw their children from
it. Given that some of the
materials promoted by such ‘experts’ are deemed not only inappropriate but
actually damaging by many parents, that would be grave indeed (for example,
Living and Growing is an assault on the sensibilities of those who wish their
children to grow up chaste – indeed it works directly against such parents’
intentions for their children’s formation).
4.6 For
all of these reasons, compulsion should not be introduced.
5 Consultation
Point Two: Accountability?
5.1 The
family is the place where children naturally learn civilised behaviour, ranging
from courtesy, to making sensible decisions and acquiring good habits (for example) about
diet and exercise; and also refraining from harmful activities such as taking
drugs.
5.2 As
before, the fact that some parents are
unable or unwilling to meet their responsibilities is no just reason to strip
all parents of their rights. In terms of the Common Good, parents should be
encouraged to undertake their responsibilities, not prevented from doing so.
5.3 Moreover,
many of the issues covered in PSHE are morally contested; parents from
different cultures and belief systems will have different views as to what is
most appropriate for their children. They should not find themselves in a
position where the school is working against their programme for their
children. There may, necessarily, be exceptions in extreme cases (such as
cultures that support FGM).
Teaching children chastity is clearly not such a case.
5.4 For
these reasons, and in recognition of the importance of the parents as the
primary educators of their children, schools should be accountable, in the
first instance, to the parents of the children who attend the schools. In that
way, teaching is not driven by experts’ ideology, but rather is sensitive to
the variety of values and cultural norms that local families may adhere to.
6 Consultation
Point Three: Provision?
6.1 The
provision at present is subject to several criticisms: it is hedonistic, frequently pornographic, assumes
promiscuity as inevitable, and is not based on sound and appropriate research.
Further schools are often poor in communicating with parents either about the
content or the underlying research and philosophy of the provision.
6.2 It
is based on a hedonistic philosophy that many parents find abhorrent, and
believe to be damaging of individuals and families and therefore of society.
That philosophy equates moral good with only two considerations: pleasure and
consent.
6.3 It
frequently involves the use of pornographic material: that is, material showing
intimate sexual behaviour. Indeed, if anyone other than a teacher were to show
such material (eg some parts of Living
and Growing) to a minor, he or she would probably be prosecuted.
6.4 It
is based on an assumption that young people are going to be promiscuous, that
risks being a self-fulfilling prophecy.
6.5 It
is not based on research into what will help children to grow up into
responsible adults capable of forming stable loving relationships; despite
plenty of research demonstrating that such relationships are the best
environment to raise the next generation to be happy and healthy.
6.6 There
is much anecdotal evidence to suggest that my experience is not atypical. I was told that my children would be
learning about growing up and puberty, and a meeting was arranged for parents
interested. I had to book time off
work to be able to get to the meeting, which was at the end of the school day
(and thus before the end of the working day). I found that the material about
growing up and puberty included information on masturbation, animated cartoons
of a couple having sex, and so on. And this at junior school! Most parents will
have been wholly unaware what their children were being taught, until after the
event. The Headmaster gave us a
handout (provided by Brook) telling us research backed up this approach. He was
unable to cite any such research. I withdrew my children from the programme
(but if the experts have their way, that will be outlawed).
7 Consultation
Point Four: Adequacy of recent steps?
7.1 As
far as I can see, this refers to the supplementary advice drafted by the PSHE
Association, Brook and the Sex Education Forum. Given that these are all very
clearly on one side of the ideological division to which I referred earlier, it
is not surprising that they seem not only inadequate, but positively harmful to
me.
7.2 Parents
are excluded from any consideration at all. The student-centred approach is
taken to an extreme that would not be tolerated in any other subject. It is
inconceivable that one would teach maths simply by asking children what they
want to learn.
7.3 The
requirement for SRE to be taught by people who are trained to talk about
‘healthy and unhealthy relationships, equality, pleasure, respect, abuse,
sexuality, gender identity, sex and consent,’ raises the worry of Brook-trained
ideologues being given licence to teach children according to their own values
and beliefs, which may be a long way from those of the parents.
7.4 This
is made explicit in the guidance that teachers should “treat sex as a normal
and pleasurable fact of life.” For Christians, Jews, Muslims and many others, that
is a completely inadequate philosophy. Sex is seen as sacred, relating as it
does to the work of the Creator.
It is not simply another recreational activity. We do not expect that
view to be accepted by schools, but we do not expect it to be systematically
undermined, either.
7.5 It
is therefore the opinion of many in this country that the philosophical
underpinnings of the approach advocated by Brook et al is inimical to society, tending to raise promiscuous
children, disconnected from their cultural roots, and severely damaged in their
ability to form stable families.
8 Consultation
Point Five: Measuring the Effectiveness of SRE?
8.1 In
order to measure the effectiveness of SRE, it is important to be clear about
the goal. Effectiveness is then measured by progress towards that goal.
8.2 According
to my analysis at 3 above, there are two quite different sets of goals that
could be considered: on the one hand the goal of making children into competent
consumers of recreational sex in pursuit of pleasure; and on the other, raising
children to grow into adults capable of forming stable monogamous relationships
for the good of their families and society as a whole.
8.3 Given
that the role of the civil authorities is to pursue the Common Good and the well-being
of individuals, I believe that the second type of goal is legitimate for the
education system, whilst the first is not.
8.4 Therefore
I propose that the immediate goal of SRE should be the reduction of early
sexual activity, and the reduction of those engaging with multiple sexual
partners; measures would then be the associated reduction in STIs, teenage
pregnancies and abortions. All of
which would be measurable and all contribute to the Common Good.
9 Conclusions
9.1 This
inquiry should not be used as an excuse to disregard the clear messages sent by
parents in response to the last consultation.
9.2 The
education system should not adopt the hedonistic philosophy of Brook and its
ideological allies.
9.3 Schools should not be required to make teaching in
this area compulsory.
9.4 Schools should teach in the context of their
children’s families’ values and beliefs, not an ideology.
9.5
Provision should be focussed on raising the next, and subsequent,
generations in ways compatible with a civilised society and the Common Good.
9.6 Reliance on experts from one side of an ideological
division is deeply damaging.
9.7 The true educational goal of SRE should be to develop emotionally
mature adults, capable of forming monogamous relationships and raise the next
generation of society. The interim goals should therefore be to work against
the culture of promiscuity and early sexual experience; and the effectiveness
of SRE should be measured against those goals.
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