On the Firing Line in Education

by Adoniram Judson Ladd

In attempting to analyze the situation at the University of North Dakota, let me again refer to Mr. Secor's article. He says, "The plan, with some modifications, is at present being used in the University of North Dakota and in Columbia University with results that are reported to be highly satisfactory." To substantiate his statement he refers, in a foot-note, to the articles in the Educational Review from which he got his information. Now, the conclusion that Mr. Secor reaches from reading these articles is hardly warranted by the articles themselves. I fear he read too much between the lines. Let us see: Professor Thomas wrote of the Columbia system more than three years ago, and only a couple of months after its adoption; nor does he say anything as to its success,—in fact, he could not, for there was nothing to say. He merely explained the new system and gave voice to his expectations. The Columbia system may be proving "highly satisfactory," but surely that article does not say that it is. And when the other article is analyzed, the case is found to be somewhat similar. Professor Kennedy wrote on the system in the University of North Dakota nearly two years ago, fully two academic years, for the article appeared in December, 1906, before the close of the first term of the year 1906-'07. Now two years in the life of an experiment of this kind is a long time. And Professor Kennedy in writing his article, did not put the case as strongly as does Mr. Secor from reading it. All that he said of its successful working was: "We ... thus far can truthfully say it is working itself out in desirable results—in more and better work than under the old plan." From these data, given when they were, Mr. Secor is certainly not justified in saying that "the plan ... is at present being used in the University of North Dakota with results that are reported to be highly satisfactory."

Professor Kennedy's statement was his individual judgment at the time he wrote his article. A considerable number of his co-laborers would not then have agreed with him. He probably would not write even as strongly as that to-day. If he should, a still larger number would disagree. He might write as strongly of his own belief in the theoretical soundness of the system, but that is quite another matter. As a matter of fact, during the last two years the weaknesses of the system have become so much more apparent that many members of the faculty then favorable, or at least hopeful, have at last come to despair of ever being able to eliminate the objectionable features and strengthen the weak points sufficiently to warrant its retention.

Professor Kennedy's article goes into detail as to the adoption of the plan, and clearly states its various changes up to the date of his writing. In our efforts, since then, to "improve" and "strengthen" it, various other changes have been made so that, as a matter of fact, one who knew it in its early history only would hardly recognise it as planned for use next year (quite different in detail from that now in use) save in the fundamental principle. That remains the same; the institution desires to secure a better quality of work from its students; it also desires to enable the student of exceptional ability or unusual industry to cut short his period of undergraduate study. To accomplish these ends it continues to use its so-called "Credit-for-quality" system of marking. This is done, altho a large and steadily increasing number of the faculty members feel that it does not do the first and that it overdoes the second.

As to these ends: I think that no one on the faculty really feels that, on the whole, we are getting a better grade of work than should reasonably be expected without the system; or, to put it in another way, no one would be bold enough to say that our students are doing better work than the students of similar institutions that do not use the system. On the other hand, it is true that some who have come among us since the adoption of the system give the comparison the less favorable turn.

Thru the operation of the system many can and do shorten their course; too many, I feel. Too many who have neither "exceptional ability" nor "unusual industry," unless it be ability "to work the Prof." and industry in that laudable enterprise. The course that normally takes four full years can be shortened from a portion of a term to a full year. Prior to June, 1908, the "time saved" could reach to a full year and a half. True, no one had actually completed a course in two and a half years, but one young lady's time was only slightly in excess of that and the excess was fully overbalanced by the time she gave to outside work—to library assistance for remuneration, and to journalism. And that gait was being struck by others. It only remained to be seen how long the wind would hold out. It was clearly possible. But the faculty became alarmed. Clearly recognizing the above stated possibility and being wholly unwilling thus to lower its high standard, it passed a resolution that arbitrarily limits the number of credits a student may receive in a given time to such an extent as to prevent graduation in less than three years. But several have gained, and others are gaining, sufficient surplus to enable them to complete their work in three years. From fifteen to twenty per cent, it is estimated, are enabled to shorten their course to that extent. Now some of these are thoroly good students, and, assuming that the system is sound in principle, well deserve to profit thereby. But others are just ordinarily good students, scarcely above the rank and file. In addition to those who complete their work in three years, some thirty or forty per cent more shorten it by lesser amounts, ranging all the way down to an inappreciable period.

But aside from the system's failure in reaching one of its ends and its too great success in reaching the other, it has developed numerous and unfortunate evils that many regard as exceedingly serious, and revealed weaknesses that seem well nigh impossible to eliminate. Space allows scarcely more than an enumeration of these, but a mere enumeration is better than to deal wholly in general terms. (1) In the first place, I should say that the "Credit-for-quality" system of marking as used by us places before the students unworthy ideals. Students of university rank can be led to seek knowledge for knowledge's sake, truth for truth's sake. They can be taught to see farther ahead than the close of the term, and something more precious than an extra three-tenths of a credit. But this thought has already been sufficiently treated earlier in the article. (2) It leads to faulty methods of study and unsatisfactory final results. In the preparation of the lessons, a good recitation, rather than thoro understanding of the subject matter, is too apt to be the objective point. Many good students have told me that they find it difficult to resist the tendency to subordinate understanding to memory. (3) It may lead, often does, to unwise election of courses. Some teachers mark higher than others. Under the influence of our system students are very quick to learn these individual characteristics, and those who have developed the "itching palm" know how to profit by that knowledge. (4) It places students who receive extra credit for quality at a disadvantage in seeking to enter other institutions of learning. The credits thus gained will not be recognized. This would operate only in making the transfer during the undergraduate period, but it does there.[1] (5)

It is demoralizing to both students and teachers. I refer to the inevitable outcome of such a system; some students (sometimes few and sometimes many) develop considerable skill in "working the Prof." Teachers offering elective courses are constantly under great temptation and students are shrewd enough to know it. And again, under the same count: it is freely claimed by both teachers and students that the cheating in examinations, of which we doubtless have our share (some claim much more than our share, tho personally I doubt it), is very greatly increased if not largely caused by our system of marking. In hopes of remedying this some of the students are now urging the adoption of the "honor system" of conducting examinations. (6) It is impossible to create uniform standards corresponding to our various grades. There are as many standards for each grade as there are instructors. A grade of work for which one instructor would give an "A" (1.3), another would give a "B" (1.2) and still another a "C" (1.0). Standards can not be fixt. To show how greatly they differ, in marking the work for the first term of this year one instructor gave only seven per cent of his students extra credit, while another thus rewarded more than seventy per cent of his. This range, however, is abnormal. But a range of twenty-five per cent to sixty-five per cent is not, even tho the two instructors have approximately the same students and do approximately the same grade of work. Other evils and weaknesses might be mentioned, but these are sufficient to show the tendency.

On the other hand, what strong paints can be urged as an offset? The only ones I have ever heard offered are: (1) it is an incentive, and (2) it does enable students to shorten the period of undergraduate work. I grant them both, but I hold that the incentive is a low one—much lower than we need to use—and that the shortening of the course is far from being an unmixt blessing.

Let me again refer to the matter of content, upon our value of which, to quite an extent, our estimate of the merit of the "Credit-for-quality" system must rest. The young people in our colleges and universities, in planning for lives of usefulness and success, place themselves in our hands for direction and guidance. Knowing that we are older, wiser, more learned, and more experienced than they, they ask our advice and, in the main, follow it. To the incentives we use in dealing with them, they respond; the motives we supply urge them on; the standards of value we erect for them, they use; and the ideals we place before them, they try to reach. All this places large responsibilities upon us. Are we wise in telling from fifteen to twenty per cent of these young people that three years is all the time that it is wise for them to spend in college work? They will all remain the full four years unless we plan differently for them. To be sure, there is no magic in the number four as numbering the years of one's college course, nor in three, nor in two, nor in any other number. But would not any normal student who spends four years in the college atmosphere, mingling with college people, both students and teachers, doing college work, drinking from the pure fountains of literature, of history, of philosophy, of science, of art, et cetera, be broader in range and more fully equipt for the varied and complicated duties of life and for life's enjoyment, than he would be with only three years thus spent? And is not the fourth year by far the best of the four? Why shall you and I discourage him from doing that which we know to be well for him and which he is willing to do? Why deny him the rare fruitage of that fourth year? Why say to him when he is just ready to enter into the enjoyments of his student life, "you would better go?" After all, is it not this very three-year student with his finer ability, his keener insight, and his greater industry who can most greatly profit by the extra year? Shall we not rather encourage him to stay longer and delve deeper and reach to the very heart of things? Whether looked at from the standpoint of the student's own advantage, or from that of the world at large, which is to profit by his equipment, is it not really the four-year or even the five-year student who would better be excused at the end of the third year? Instead of being in a hurry to send our choice students away, let us get them to do their high quality of work just the same, but to do it during four years instead of three. They are the very ones who will most readily respond to such appeals and they will so respond unless we put other notions into their heads. It is sometimes urged, in justification of the "Credit-for-quality" idea, that one student in three years can accomplish more, in gaining both knowledge and mental power, than another in four. There is no doubt about it. Some can do more in two years than others in four; some in one, and some with no college work can easily outstrip others with the best advantages. Shall we say to such an one, "you do not need to go to college—it would be time wasted"? By no means. Above all others we want him because he can most largely profit by what he gets, and we shall reap the reward later on. But supposing one student at the close of his third college year is better able to make his way in the world than another at the end of his fourth year, that is not the question at all. The function of the college is not to bring students to a level, but to develop each one to the utmost. Each should be considered separately and the question asked, "the longer or the shorter term—which will do the more for him?"