Thinking and learning to think

by Nathan Christ Schaeffer

Value of the maxim.

Yet we must not fail to make grateful acknowledgment of the services to education rendered by those who lifted the maxim into prominence. How often were pupils expected to learn one thing by doing another. Drawing was advocated because it would improve the penmanship. Silent reading or thought-getting was to be learned by oral reading or thought-giving. The alphabet was taught as if the names of the letters would make the child familiar with the sounds. The idea of number was to be gotten by naming the numbers or imitating the Arabic notation. Facility and accuracy in the use of language were to be acquired from exercises in parsing and analysis. Familiarity with birds, flowers, minerals, chemicals, etc., was to be gained from the learned phraseology of the text-books. Sometimes even the teachers knew very little more than the technical terms. When the great ornithologist, Wilson, visited Princeton College, the professor of natural history scarcely knew a sparrow from a woodpecker. A great change has come over Princeton and all other higher institutions of learning; and the new influence has been felt in our high schools, and even in the grades below.

Maxims, principles.

Whilst cheerfully acknowledging the value of the maxim of Comenius, we should, nevertheless, insist on the difference between a maxim which may regulate our conduct in specific cases and a principle which is an all-controlling guide in operations. Coleridge says, “A maxim is a conclusion upon observation of matters of fact, and is speculative; a principle has truth in itself, and is prospective.” It is always dangerous to generalize upon facts observed in one realm of investigation, and then to allow others to apply these general statements to realms as diverse from the original field of observation as mind or spirit is from matter. The disciples in such cases always manifest the hidden weaknesses in the system of their master. They rush in where he would have feared to tread. They push his language to extremes, from which his deeper insight, broader vision, and larger experience would have caused him to shrink. Comenius framed the maxim from the observation of bodily acts; some seek to apply it to every form of human activity. The original language has been twisted into a statement that sounds paradoxical. “We learn to do by doing.” What can these words mean? If we can do a given thing, what need is there of learning to do that thing. If we cannot do the thing to be learned by the doing of it, how can any doing on our part issue in learning? Evidently the maxim in its modern form, if it is at all valid, must partake of the nature of a paradox, which, though seemingly absurd, is yet true in essence or fact. For the purpose of testing the validity of a paradoxical statement, there is no better way than to ascertain its possible meanings, to eliminate those evidently not intended, and finally to investigate the one or more senses or interpretations that may legitimately be put upon the language. The investigation will, in this instance, reveal the relation existing between doing and the act of learning.

Analysis of the maxim.

In the first place, the maxim cannot mean that we learn to do by every kind of doing. The kind of doing by which the young man hoped to learn medicine and surgery was ridiculed centuries ago; no one in our day would advocate mere blind doing as a means of learning. The maxim must refer to doing guided by an intelligent will. The doing must be guided by thinking that is based upon correct and reliable data or premises.

Again, the maxim cannot mean that we learn one thing by doing another. The maxim was emphasized in protest against the absurdity of some of our methods of teaching. It may happen that the learner accidentally discovers one thing while seeking to find out some other thing; to expect that this shall always be the case is to invite disappointment. For instance, pupils do not learn to spell while studying books if attention is absorbed in the meaning, and is not drawn, in separate exercises, to the correct orthography of words that are apt to be misspelled.

Fatigue.

There is a third limitation to the maxim on the side of attention. How, for instance, is the art of writing acquired? It is undoubtedly true that a boy cannot learn to write without himself writing; it is equally true that he is not always learning or improving in penmanship while he is practising with his pen upon paper. From the teacher or the copy he gets a concept of the letters to be made. The first efforts at imitation are fraught with defects. The pupil must clearly recognize wherein he failed, and earnestly strive to remedy the defects, if the next attempt is to be an improvement. The maxim, if here applied, must mean that the pupil learns to do by continually doing, as nearly as he can, the thing to be done. With each step of progress, his concept of the form of the letters and how to make them becomes more accurate; or, in other words, his power and skill keep pace with his knowledge. Finally, after much practice, the nerves and muscles which control the act of writing are properly co-ordinated; the habit of writing with ease is acquired; the process becomes largely subconscious, if not altogether automatic. The learner has at length reached the stage in which his attention is no longer concentrated upon the form and beauty of the letters, but rather upon the thought to be expressed, and it is quite possible that henceforth his chirography will grow more illegible the more he writes. Of course, he is now learning the art of composing by composing; but he has ceased to learn in the direction of his handwriting by writing, because the attention is riveted upon something else. Even before the subconscious stage is reached, practice, if too long continued, may exhaust the powers of attention, and doing can no longer issue in learning by reason of fatigue.