Trix Cereal or Augustine?

(This is the last post in a series of I am doing entitled “Why It Doesn’t Make Economic Sense to Run Education like a Business.”)

Trix or Augustine?  Which would be a better model for how we think about education?  I’m afraid that we too often approach education as if we were buying breakfast cereal (if we are students) or trying to sell breakfast cereal (if we are in charge of education).

Think about this.  We don’t run our family economies like a business.  And we shouldn’t.  (“Justin, that’s the third time in the last month that you forgot to clear the dishes from the table.  This has really cut into our household productivity, so we’re going to have to let you go.   But chin up, buddy.  I’m sure it won’t be long before you land on your feet with another set of parents somewhere who are in need of a nine-year old boy.”)

We don’t run our church economies like a business. (Well, most churches do not).  And we shouldn’t.  (“Here at Bob’s Discount Baptist Church, you get two sermons on John 3:16 for the price of one offering!  But wait, there’s more!  Just present this coupon to the usher and Pastor Bob will take an additional 25% off of your next altar call!”)

Hmmm. Should we follow the impulses of a silly rabbit……

We should not run our educational economies like a business, either.  The market has its place, but it will not take care of the challenges of education, just like it won’t take care of the challenges of parenting or of ministry.

And yes, there is a proper role for government, but government will not solve these problems, either.  (Insert your own joke here).  I say this because Americans tend to react to non-individualized problems by turning either to the market or to the government.  There are more than two options out there, folks.

I’m afraid, though, that I don’t have a good model for how the economics of education should work.  It would be great if a really smart economist, who understood the ways that humans behave when confronted with the dynamics of learning, would work all of this out.

My primary concern, though, is not exactly the question of how to fund education.  My bigger concern is that, socialized as we all are in deep patterns of consumerism, we carry a consumer mindset to so many aspects of our life where they don’t belong.  (See “Cereal, Trix.”).

And it is in this realm where we can find a much better model:  Augustine.

Now, I am not an expert in Augustine.  His thought can get quite complicated, but there are real riches to be found there, especially for the Christian faith.  Let me summarize and over-simplify a huge body of work here by saying that Augustine wrote that the best education is built upon gratitude, sacrifice, humility, love and true delight.  These are qualities that take us in very different directions from consumerism.

Let’s unpack these a bit.

Gratitude.  It sounds strange to say that we should be thankful for a college education when tuition costs so much.  But you can’t buy an education.  A college education is actually a gift from God, in an odd sort of way.  Not everybody has the ability to do college-level work.  Some people are more “gifted” intellectually than others.  Get it?  Furthermore, there are millions of people in this world who have the gifts to do college-level work, but do not have the opportunities to get a quality university education.  Those of us who have been given these opportunities should be grateful for them.  If we are not grateful for a college education we will feel entitled; we will think we deserve our educational opportunities and the benefits that come from it.  And entitlement is not a good thing, is it?

....or one of the great theologians in all of history?   Hmm.  Decisions, decisions.

….or the thinking one of the great theologians in all of history? Hmm. Decisions, decisions.

Sacrifice.  Ah, yes, a good education requires one to work.  That means sacrificing short-term desires like Facebook, video games, shopping, eating, hanging out, movies, or all that other stuff for the long-term good of one’s education.  Sacrifice is hard; consumerism is not.  Barlow’s Law, baby.

Humility.   The best education provokes us to admit that we do not have everything figured out.  The best education pushes us to respectfully consider the ideas of others.  The best education requires that we submit to the methodologies, theories and practices of an academic discipline.  The best education demands that we change our understanding, beliefs and practices when confronted with our own misperceptions, errors, or faulty processes.  Those are all elements of humility.  Consumerism, by contrast, puts us in charge of buying what we want.  Not much humility in that.

Love.  The best education helps us to better love God and love others.  In fact, every academic discipline, properly understood, can and should be about loving God and/or others in some way.  Education should direct us to God’s purposes for the world and a deep concern for the common good.  It is in these highest biblical commands to love that we truly find life.  Much of consumerism, as so many advertisements declare, is all about me.  And that is a distinctly un-biblical sort of way of thinking and desiring.

True delight.  When all of these things come together, we discover the true delight in learning.  We are grateful for our learning, we don’t mind the sacrifice, we embody humility and we love more completely.   Meanwhile, it’s rather odd that the happiness I experience when I buy my new iPhone lasts for….two weeks?  And the thrill is definitely gone when the newest iPhone hits the market.  Consumerism fools us into thinking we are finding true delight, but it fails to deliver.

Augustine’s principles do not just apply to students.  Teachers, professors, administrators, and anyone involved in or concerned with education should give his principles careful consideration as well.  I myself need to be reminded of these points regularly.

 

 

 

The Impact of Trix Cereal on Christianity, Marriage, Civil Life, Education and Just About Everything Else

In 1954, General Mills introduced Trix cereal to the American public.  This was the most significant event of the 20th century.

Really? More significant than the 1952 election? More significant than the 1929 stock market crash? More significant than Watergate?

OK, I’m overstating things here, but I’m actually pretty serious about this.  The introduction of Trix cereal may rank in my top ten list of most significant events of the 20th century.  Maybe the top five.

Why?  Because Trix was the first multi-colored breakfast food.

Get it?  Probably not.

Think about why General Mills produced a multi-colored breakfast food and why they marketed it with that advertising campaign familiar to all Americans, “Silly Rabbit, Trix are for kids!”

Get it?  Not quite, I’m betting.

Think about this:  why did General Mills think that it would work to advertise to 4 year-olds during Saturday morning Bugs Bunny cartoons?  Do 4 year-olds have the means to run out to the grocery store and buy Trix?  Do 4 year-olds make the decisions about how the family income is spent?

Admit it. You want this.

Get it?  I’m guessing we’re starting to get there.  Remember what you were like at age 4 in the grocery store and you saw something you wanted?  Or have you have observed 4 year-olds in grocery stores?  It is a fascinating and rather unsettling sight.  Watching 4 year-olds in the grocery aisle with their parents is like watching wildlife documentaries of elks fighting fellow elks for dominance.  The fight may begin and end quickly, but in those short, dramatic moments, we glimpse a compelling struggle of power, will, wits and cunning, as we wait to see who will come out on top.

A little historical background to epic grocery store battles:  In 1854 and 1754 and 1654 (and earlier, in just about everywhere around the world) children were producers in the family economy, but they were not major consumers.  In other words, most children helped the family economy by working at tasks like herding livestock, sewing, gathering eggs, carrying water, etc.  They did not make decisions about how household money would be spent.  By 1954, that pattern was reversing in most middle-class families.  Children produced very little to help the family income while becoming major players in deciding how the household income was spent.  Even 4 year-olds.  Amazing.

In other words, thanks to Trix cereal (and Barbie Dolls and Hot Wheels and Kool-aid and McDonald’s) all of us became consumers at a very young age.

Of course, I am using Trix cereal to represent a whole host of larger consumer trends at work.  Targeting children in advertising began a number of decades before 1954.  Plenty of other companies besides General Mills were joining in on this.  Economic prosperity gave families plenty of disposable income. The growth of new forms of mass media – radio and TV, for instance – made it possible for marketers to reach children in their homes.  But I use Trix cereal and 1954 as my representative example because the 1950s was the decade when all these forces came together in a powerful way in American society.

Sometimes, 4 year-olds choose Cinnamon Toast Crunch instead of Trix. Why? Because they can! They are consumers!

We have to ask an even more important question than the sheer economics of the thing:  what kind of people do we become if we are shaped as consumers from the moment we can comprehend a TV ad?  What does it mean to have a society in which consumerism holds formative influences on us as persons?

It means that we may enter into Christianity, marriage, civil life, education as consumers, rather than as disciples, spouses, citizens and students.  As consumers, we are primarily interested in what we can get out of these things and are less likely to ask what we can contribute to them.  It means we value things primarily on the basis of instant gratification and have little patience for self-sacrifice.  It means that if we get dissatisfied, we may be quick to dump one option and go shopping for another.  Does this happen?  As that big red Kool-Aid pitcher used to say in the ads, “Oh, yeahhhhhh!”

A number of people have commented about how consumerism has affected American Christianity.  Let me just point out one.  Thomas Bergler has written an important book entitled The Juvenilization of American ChristianityOne of the things he points out is that since the 1950s, evangelicals have effectively adapted the faith to the youth culture – a culture that is steeped in consumerism.  As a result, evangelicals have been much more effective than other Christian bodies in attracting youth to church.  The downside is that this sort of juvenile faith has spread through the adult levels of the church (think about all the ways that evangelicals want church to be “fun” and “exciting”).  Christians with this kind of faith have a hard time moving beyond a rather shallow, self-centered faith based on immediate gratification.  Why?  Trix cereal.

Do we tend to view marriage relationships in terms of what we can get out of it?  Are we, as a society, too willing to dump a spouse if we see a better product come along?   I have heard evangelicals blame a number of things for the rising divorce rates of the last half century: the absence of prayer in schools, homosexuality, and something as vague as a “decline in morals,” just to name a few.  We’re looking in the wrong places.  We should start by thinking about our Trix cereal ads.

Civil society?  In 1960 John F. Kennedy said, famously, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.”  It was a view of civil society that resonated with many Americans at that time.  In the 2000 presidential debate, an audience member asked the candidates, “How will your tax proposals affect me as a middle-class, 34-year-old single person with no dependents?”  Think about this one.  It implies that as a voter I will make a choice based on a specific policy is tailored to a very narrow slice of the population who are just like me.  And did Americans in 2000 even notice that this is a very consumeristic approach to viewing civil life?  No, because this is an idea of civil society that resonated with many Americans, who all grew up enmeshed in consumerism.  “Silly President, tax policies are for 34-year old single persons with no dependents!”

Education?  Don’t even get me started.  I could describe how some students expect course offerings, class projects, and course expectations to conform to their personal schedules.  I hardly need to tell you that many students believe classes ought to entertain them.  Colleges feel compelled to offer a consumer lifestyle – good food, climbing walls, fun activities, stylish dormitories, exciting athletic programs – in order to attract students to come to their institution to get an education.  My daughter once received a postcard from a college whose entire message was that they were “#1 in Food and Fun” in Ohio. The postcard said absolutely nothing about education.  But food and fun?  Ah, yes, that is what college is all about, isn’t it, Silly Rabbit?

Trix cereal:  the most significant development of the 20th century.