Saturday Mitchell

Schools are in favor of sensitivity and opposed, of course, to insensitivity. In the traditional curriculum there are still some outdated things which cause insensitivity. Historical dates cause insensitivity. The square of the hypotenuse causes callousness. Untempered grammar and spelling produce elitism. The multiplication table can engender inhumanity, and precise diction has been known to produce fascism.

Richard Mitchell, the author of Less Than Words Can Say, wrote those words in 1979. They're on page 90 of that book. They sound prophetic, yet were based on a review of teaching practices way back then.

What do we hear these days? That math is racist. So are speaking and writing well. One might suppose they always have been if you listen to teachers in 2026. They have been trained in this approach for decades now, and kids can't read, write or cipher at alarming rates of ineptitude which have been rolling downhill, building like a snowball since, well, I was in school. We are raising in our public schools a nation of illiterates. 

But they feel good about themselves, so it's all right. They are sensitive, whatever that means, about the ills of the world. Never mind that they might actually feel better if they knew things whereby they might be able to do something about them. Yet those are hard to teach. Everyone can get an A in Sensitivity.

One Great Book

I was looking for something to read yesterday, and nothing seemed to grab my attention. Then I noticed my copy of Less Than Words Can Say by one Richard Mitchell. He is better known, but, sadly, not well enough known, as The Underground Grammarian, under which name he called out poor language from 1976 until 1992. Despite that arguably high-falutin' title, the Underground Grammarian was gold for its insight, humor, and warnings about the power of language.

But I digress. In rereading Less, I rediscovered the irony of insights so incisive as to be laugh out loud. Chastising teachers who decry the need to write well, Mitchell says:

This is, they tell us, an age of technology, and that what we need to know is how to program computers, not how to devise grammatical sentences in orderly sequence. As it happens, computers work by reading and devising grammatical sentences in orderly sequence.

Delightful. I did laugh out loud. Basically, if our computers are to work, our instructions must be grammatically correct, at least in computer language. But can we perform that task if we can't employ good grammar in our own language? 

Mitchell's book dwells on how language is used for control, so he has a special vitriol for bureaucrats and lawyers who seem to make a habit of obscuring language as a means of controlling situations. He further despises letter openers such as "You are hearby informed" and "Our records indicate" and "It has been brought to our attention" calling such things the Divine Imperative, words suggesting God Almighty is addressing you. And you best listen. Words used like that are quite successful in their intimidating tone. We dread them.

Yet the best thing which I've reread so far is a fabulous little sentence Mitchell says early on: Words never fail. If they speak reason, reason is passed forward. If they speak nonsense, confusion reigns. In today's society we tend towards the latter. We say less than we can say.

I am only about halfway through but have already resolved to reread this book at least once a year from here out. The only other books I have at this writing put into that category are The Abolition of Man by C.S. Lewis and Death on a Friday Afternoon by Fr. Richard Neuhaus. We need books like these on our shelves, and I'm sure I'll have more to say about Mitchell in the coming blogs. 

Delving Deep

...maybe the wisdom philosophy brings isn’t the parent of happiness, which is not that gloomy a suspicion; after all, if only the wise can be happy, the rest of us are in a bad way indeed.

Since the day I finished Death on A Friday Afternoon, which I spoke of in a recent blog, I have been dealing with a frustrating lack of direction in my reading. This despite having gleaned from the book a great calm even with an understanding both clear and muddy (if that paradox can make sense) which calls so strong towards the transcendent that I can barely stand it. I want more reading like that. Yet I'm not sure it's available on this Earth.

A great and welcome diversion has come to me through The Ballpark Book, thanks to my buddy Ron. Reading it is a balm (I assure you I am not trying to overstate the point) which I sorely needed. It's filled with talk about baseball and the classic stadia in which it was and is played. On that level I'm back to reading for enjoyment, and it feels good.

Yet I still want more of what I'll call here heavy reading, the thing which grants understanding yet draws us further towards Truth. Not your truth of my truth; that is no more than a frivolity which borders on hubris, but the Truth. It is there, you know. We can accept it or deny it, but there is no bluff to call, and we deny it at our peril.

In that search I find myself reading old issues of The Underground Grammarian, a delightful series which my friend Paul introduced me to eons ago. The Grammarian, one Dr. Richard Mitchell, speaks in ways which address the ethereal, the numinous, the Truth. I pulled that quote above from one his essays.

We can, if we wish, seek and find that truth. It isn't only for the philosophers but for us all. Don't leave happiness to them. Discover it for yourself.

What's Best For Kids

Had he (a parent) sought out and hired a teacher for his child, that teacher might well say: Having chosen me for this work, you will either have to trust that I know better than you how to accomplish it, or go and find some other teacher for your child. But an agent of government can not afford to commend the competition.

That quote is from one Richard Mitchell, the self styled Underground Grammarian from years past and someone from whom I learned more about teaching and government authority (I'm willing to argue abuse of authority) than any professor of Education whilst earning my teaching certificate. I can't truthfully call it a degree because that implies the aforementioned professors gave me real direction on what an actual education should involve. I jumped through the hoops, was handed a piece of paper, and then taught as I thought best under what circumstances I faced. Believe me, anybody can become certified to teach (I may well be proof of that), much more so today than when I was in college in 1982. It is not an impressive accomplishment.

But that idea goes farther than what I intend to for today. What the late Dr. Mitchell (he passed in 2007) meant here was that (a) we should respect true teachers, folks actually trying to make our children better people and who, indeed, work along with us as parents and members of society towards that most important goal, as opposed to (b) public school teachers who, by and large, as agents of government, tend to work against worthwhile improvement in their charges. That's because they're interested in what the government thinks best rather than what actually is best.

This is a primary reason why as I age I become increasingly libertarian. Governments rarely care about what's best for your child; they care about keeping themselves in authority. They care about holding, and wielding, power. Our liberal friends seem to recognize that when it's Donald Trump yet can't see it in Joe Biden. Ditto, conversely, our conservative pals.

But once more I digress. Parents are by their nature (yes, I realize there are bad ones, and it is of course okay for society to get involved in those situations) more concerned with what's truly best for their children than public authorities. Government needs to get out of the way and let parents do what they do best: raise their kids well. That involves mom and dad actively, even almost exclusively, choosing who teaches their offspring and letting the true professional teach as they ought. It's a simple concept, and hardly radical. Yet that's also exactly why it's a threat to government schools.

The need for humility

People who overvalue themselves are generally not the people we want in leadership positions. Those who are meek about what they do may be our best citizens.

I have written before about the hazards of thinking too much about ourselves and our work. I have found and offer to you an excerpt from a neat little article penned by Richard Mitchell, who wrote under the moniker of The Underground Grammarian. The passage itself may be vaguely dated, having been published in 1983, but the point is universal. You may read the entire piece here: http://www.sourcetext.com/grammarian/

I encourage you to read more of Mitchell's stuff. It's pretty good on the whole. But for now, read this and let it sink in.

ONE of the most delicious ironies of our ironical time is the fact that schoolteachers often make less money than garbagemen. Although garbagemen seem to have reconciled themselves to this curious inequity perhaps out of a phlegmatic realism inevitably induced by their labors, schoolteachers have not.

How can it be, schoolteachers ask in letters to editors all over the land, that "society" holds them so cheap? Have they not labored mightily to make society exactly what it is today, clarifying values, facilitating appreciations, and teaching everyone how to relate? Have they not been the principal providers of universal public self-esteem, creativity, and social awareness? So how come they don't get no respect? What kind of society can it be that better rewards those who haul away garbage than those who produce it?

Such complaints seem, at first, indubitably justifiable. At least, they require of any thoughtful citizen a scrutiny of whatever differences can be discovered between garbagemen and schoolteachers:

While the work of garbagemen is of unquestionable social value, they never hire public relations experts to nag us about their selfless devotion to the common good. They don't even have a bumper sticker. That ought to he worth a few bucks.

When garbagemen ask for more money, they gladly admit that what they really want is the money. As to recompense for the self-sacrifice out of which they consented to become garbagemen rather than executives of multi-national corporations, they say nothing. Such reticence is surely worth a little more money.

Although they shouldn't be, garbagemen are just a little bit ashamed of what they do, and thus deficient in self-esteem. Schoolteachers are not the least bit ashamed of anything that they do. They have great big oodles of self-esteem. Would it not be an appropriately democratic redistribution of wealth to take some money, since they'll never part with that self-esteem, away from the privileged schoolteachers and give it to those emotionally deprived garbagemen?

The shame that arises from believing what the world tells us to believe is a form of slavery, but when shame arises from self-knowledge informed by a principled consideration of what is estimable and what is not, it is virtue.

Self esteem, teachers, and virtue

People who overvalue themselves are generally not the people we want in leadership positions. Those who are meek about what they do may be our best citizens.

We have written before about the hazards of thinking too much about ourselves and our work. We have found and offer to you an excerpt from a neat little article penned by Richard Mitchell, who wrote under the moniker of The Underground Grammarian. The passage itself may be vaguely dated, having been published in 1983, but the point is universal. You may read the entire piece here: http://www.sourcetext.com/grammarian/

We encourage you to read more of Mitchell's stuff. It's pretty good on the whole. But for now, read this and let it sink in.

ONE of the most delicious ironies of our ironical time is the fact that schoolteachers often make less money than garbagemen. Although garbagemen seem to have reconciled themselves to this curious inequity perhaps out of a phlegmatic realism inevitably induced by their labors, schoolteachers have not.

How can it be, schoolteachers ask in letters to editors all over the land, that "society" holds them so cheap? Have they not labored mightily to make society exactly what it is today, clarifying values, facilitating appreciations, and teaching everyone how to relate? Have they not been the principal providers of universal public self-esteem, creativity, and social awareness? So how come they don't get no respect? What kind of society can it be that better rewards those who haul away garbage than those who produce it?

Such complaints seem, at first, indubitably justifiable. At least, they require of any thoughtful citizen a scrutiny of whatever differences can be discovered between garbagemen and schoolteachers:

While the work of garbagemen is of unquestionable social value, they never hire public relations experts to nag us about their selfless devotion to the common good. They don't even have a bumper sticker. That ought to he worth a few bucks.

When garbagemen ask for more money, they gladly admit that what they really want is the money. As to recompense for the self-sacrifice out of which they consented to become garbagemen rather than executives of multi-national corporations, they say nothing. Such reticence is surely worth a little more money.

Although they shouldn't be, garbagemen are just a little bit ashamed of what they do, and thus deficient in self-esteem. Schoolteachers are not the least bit ashamed of anything that they do. They have great big oodles of self-esteem. Would it not be an appropriately democratic redistribution of wealth to take some money, since they'll never part with that self-esteem, away from the privileged schoolteachers and give it to those emotionally deprived garbagemen?

The shame that arises from believing what the world tells us to believe is a form of slavery, but when shame arises from self-knowledge informed by a principled consideration of what is estimable and what is not, it is virtue.

Education and Democracy

It's amazing how thoughts may randomly pop into one's mind. We are further impressed when two or more of them have an interesting connection which gives us pause.

When the Christian apologist C. S. Lewis speaks of being a democrat (a small 'd' democrat, it should be noted) he says that it is because he distrusts his fellow men rather than believes in them. No one, himself included, he says, can be fully trusted to run other people's business, so it's better to diffuse power than allow its accumulation in one man or group.

Richard Mitchell, an outstanding yet little known writer on education issues famous for his works under the heading The Underground Grammarian, teaches that education is a preparation against the world more than for it. The world, so to speak, will mislead you, it will lie to you, so that the only decent education leads you to think for yourself as a check on the world's attempted ill effect upon you.

These are two quite interesting takes on things. They lead us to wonder whether there might be such things as negative virtues, ideas positive in themselves though emanating from negative perspectives. They are difficult to disagree with, yet display an understanding of the world and peoples around us in an unexpected fashion from unexpected sources. They certainly put ideas of democracy and education in a different light than in which they are generally seen. As such, they quite naturally lead us to think and wonder.

Do we hold the right view of education? Do we really understand democracy? Are the ideals we work towards with either actually the right approach towards these questions, or ought we consider the ideas of Lewis and Mitchel as more trustworthy, more likely to get us the types of democracy and education which will help our society the most? We think that, at the least, their ideas merit discussion.

Lewis and Mitchell

It's amazing how thoughts may randomly pop into one's mind. We are further impressed when two or more of them may have a certain connection which gives us pause.

C. S. Lewis speaks of being a democrat (a small 'd' democrat, it should be noted) he says that it is because he distrusts his fellow men rather than believes in them. No one, himself included, he says, can be fully trusted to run other people's business, so it's better to diffuse power than allow its accumulation in one man or group.

Richard Mitchell, an outstanding yet little known writer on education issues famous, so far as he is, for his works under the heading The Underground Grammarian, teaches that education is a preparation against the world more than for it. The world, so to speak, will mislead you, it will lie to you, so that the only decent education leads you to think for yourself as a check on the world's attempted ill effect upon you.

These are two quite interesting takes on things. They lead us to wonder whether there might be such things as negative virtues, ideas positive in themselves though emanating from negative perspectives. They are difficult to disagree with, yet display an understanding of the world and peoples around us in an unexpected fashion from unexpected sources. As such, they quite naturally lead us to think and wonder.

How about you?