Wednesday, June 29, 2011

First Steps


[Author's note: This is chapter one to "Why American Can't Think," a book in progress. This chapter discusses my own beginning interest in science and the start of science education in schools. I've just expanded it to include some science. Should it be longer? What's missing? Comments are welcome.]
School ruins summer. Growing up, as I did, in a sleepy beach community, the summer was the time, well, to go to the beach. For a nine-year old child who just finished fifth grade, it was a great time to forget about school and have fun. So, what was I doing in summer school?

My parents had put me in that veritable prison. It might have been to get me out of the way so that my mother wouldn't be overwhelmed by handling my six-year old brother and my three-year old sister as well as me. Here I was, imprisoned day after day with the summer just outside of the school windows. Fate plays strange tricks with life. And so the long-past summer, that had threatened to be interminable, introduced me to science.

Probably because of some teaching fad of the time, I walked into an unstructured class in a large uncrowded room where students did various projects. Projects? Where were the tests that I had become so good at taking? I had learned that only test scores really counted, and I had learned how to do well on tests. It's a wonderful skill for your school years and not much use afterward, except for taking the exam for a driver's license and the like.

We could do projects because the class was small, only about a dozen students with two teachers. Not really poor or wealthy, our town got by, but had great schools anyway. This was California before the tax revolts of the 80s. Rated near the top in the country in education, California's education system has been devastated by the tax-limiting proposition 13, and now it's near the bottom.

Students in my class had to present their projects to the class at the end of the semester. Some did creative stuff; others were involved in play acting. I was lost. Nothing that the others were doing held any interest for me. I found a book; maybe a teacher handed it to me. It was about science experiments, and it fascinated me. I wanted to do those experiments.

My scope was limited by the materials at hand. We did not have any chemicals or fancy equipment. After all, this was fifth grade. We were only ten years old, although I was nine due to skipping third grade. I ended up working with flasks, stoppers, tubing, and other similar stuff to create demonstration experiments showing some basic principles of science such as air pressure making a fountain. It was fun seeing what I could do with a few simple pieces of apparatus. I tested each demonstration in the days before the presentation, worried that I'd flop. Everything worked fine, and I was happy to have completed my assignment and to get out of school for the remainder of the summer.

My experiments used atmospheric pressure, the pressure of the air all around us. I didn't know it then, but this pressure results from air having mass. A great column of air extending far up sits above us, pressing down with its weight. My experiments worked with two fluids, water and air. Fluids transmit their pressure equally in all directions. So, the force of all of those kilometers of air push down, up, sideways and affect everything.

If you take a empty plastic soda bottle and put some hot water (possibly from the tap) into it, shake it up, and cap it, you'll see the effect of atmospheric pressure. As the gas in the bottle (a mixture of air and water vapor) cools, the pressure in the bottle declines while that of the atmosphere outside the bottle stays the same. The bottle collapses from the pressure, equivalent to that caused by a column of mercury about 3/4 of a meter (about 30 in) high (101 Pa in SI pressure units). It's equal to the pressure of a hefty man standing on a square about 9 cm (3.5 in) on a side.

Another thing that I was to find out later relates to why a gas gets smaller when it cools. I put a technical explanation in Appendix I that deals with something called “kinetic-molecular theory.” Simply, this theory was supported by lots of experiments and suggested that matter (gases anyway) consists of lots of very small individual particles constantly in motion, whose speed increases with temperature.

It was to be four more years after that fifth-grade class before I found myself in a science class. As odd as it may seem today, I had no science in grades 6-9. That's right, even in my freshman year of high school, science was not offered. Today, some high schools require three years of science to graduate and recommend four. Science has been growing as an important part of school curricula for a long time.

Science had to be introduced to an educational system that had focused on arithmetic, language, classics, and history. The first formal science classes in secondary schools appeared in the 19th century. In Great Britain, we have information from F. W. Westaway, who wrote in 1929, “Down to the middle of the nineteenth century, science was the veritable Cinderella of the British school curriculum. Science itself was making headway, but science teachers were few, and those few were engaged in fighting down opposition all round.”

You can imagine the conflicts as science threatened to remove, for example Greek, from the curriculum. Students had been learning Greek for, well, forever. Why change? We can guess that the impetus for change came from the Industrial Revolution. Inventors, such as James Watt with his improved steam engine, had proven the value of a scientific education. The schools had to educate students to play a role in helping their nation succeed. These schools weren't quite sure how to teach science, and the point remains contentious today. Initially, schools taught secondary science much as they taught history or mathematics. The courses were all lecture, reading, tests, and the like. Introduction of lab exercises came later.

In 2005, the National Research Council wrote in “America's Lab Report: Investigations in High School Science, “Since laboratories were introduced in the late 1800s, the goals of high school science education have changed. Today, high school science education aims to provide scientific literacy for all as part of a liberal education and to prepare students for further study, work, and citizenship.” This newsworthy report goes on to say, referring to science laboratories in schools, “During the 1880s, the situation changed rapidly. ... Johns Hopkins University established itself as a research institution with student laboratories. Other leading colleges and universities followed suit, and high schools—which were just being established as educational institutions—soon began to create student science laboratories as well.”

From these few references, you can deduce that science began to take its place in secondary education in the mid-19th century and that science labs were first introduced very late in that century. We can surmise that science labs provided a vital opportunity for students to do science. When learning English, students “do” English by writing essays. My own lifelong love of science was sparked by the opportunity to do science in that fifth-grade summer school so long ago. Science became real, not just a collection of facts and words. Finding out about the world and discovering new concepts thrilled me to the core. I was hooked.

© 2011 by Harry E. Keller, Manhattan Beach, CA U.S.A.
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Thursday, June 09, 2011

Wake Up Call

[Author's note: This is the prologue to "Why American Can't Think," a book in progress. This prologue puts our current education situation into historical perspective and sets forth the purpose of this book. An image of Sputnik I will appear in the appropriate place. Comments are welcome.]


On October 4, 1957, America woke up to a changed universe. For the first time ever, an artificial satellite revolved over our heads. The fast-moving object reappeared in the sky every 96 minutes. Launched by the Soviet Union in a display of technology and propaganda, it shook Americans to the core. The Russians called it Sputnik; it weighed 181 pounds.

I was a high school student at the time and recall vividly the impact this event had on our small beach community. It was as though the Russians were about to invade right where we lived. People across the entire country were stunned. How could this happen? Weren't the Americans well ahead of the Soviet Union? We were first with the atomic bomb and first with the hydrogen bomb. We had many ex-Nazi German rocket scientists working for us. We were America!

The Soviet Union wasn't through with us however. On November 3, they launched another satellite into orbit. This time, it weighed over 1,100 pounds. Clearly, they'd have little trouble launching a powerful nuclear weapon into the United States if they chose.

Two months later, the United States attempted to launch its own satellite, Vanguard. In a public relations disaster, the rocket exploded on the launch pad. Even had it succeeded, it weighed only three pounds and would have been too little too late. As it was, the failure made things worse, much worse. A public relations problem had escalated into a major national issue.

The army came to the rescue on January 31, 1958. Werner von Braun's group in army research managed to launch Explorer I, a 30-pound satellite, into orbit. The space race was on.

Ultimately, on March 17, a Vanguard satellite was successfully launched. During 1957 and 1958, eight launch attempts were made for Vanguard. This was the only one to succeed. In a strange twist of fate, Vanguard I is still in orbit and is the oldest such satellite, the others having long ago fallen out of lower orbits.

Among all of the hand-wringing and finger-pointing, one fact stood out. Our schools were training fewer scientists than would be required to meet the challenge. Congress and the nation responded with fervor.

At that time, schools had been adjusting their curricula to meet the young students' social, personal, and vocational needs. Suddenly, pressures that had been building to make curricula more rigorous surged. Funded by the National Science Foundation, new materials for science education were created in physics, chemistry, and biology. Science education had become an important part of the space race, which culminated in a manned moon landing when Apollo 11's lunar excursion module descended to the moon's surface on July 20, 1969. The Soviet Union never managed a manned moon landing.
Vanguard Satellite, Courtesy NASA/JPL-Caltech

It's notable that America responded to this event so dramatically. It wasn't Pearl Harbor, but America marshaled its resources almost as though it were. Congress did not seriously challenge the channeling of resources into the race for the Moon. The American people cheered from the sidelines, watching anxiously at each flight of Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo. They mourned the loss the Apollo 1 crew, Grissom, White, and Chaffee.

Today, we haven't awakened to a Sputnik-like tsunami of technological or propaganda superiority. Instead, we're seeing the steady erosion of our ability to build new science and new technology as other countries seek to emulate our prior success and gain for themselves the advantages that flow from dominance in these fields, including a higher standard of living for their people and a stronger economic and military presence.

Without a single event to focus the attention of our citizens on the seriousness of the situation, we are having difficulties finding the resources required to improve our science education. We won't see it happen through the forces of the free market because public education is run by the government. The tax revolts of the 1980s have ensured that many of our schools will gradually decay in their ability to deliver quality education, especially in science. Only a few wealthy communities can fund their schools beyond the amount received by statute.

Yet, even substantial increases in funding will not repair the damage accumulating over more than two decades. Class sizes have exploded. School physical facilities have decayed. Teacher recruitment has lagged; most districts have difficulty in hiring really good science and mathematics teachers.

Certainly an effort has been made. Yet, after over 20 years and billions of dollars, where's the improvement? Optimists may note that things aren't much worse, but they didn't count on the most severe recession since the Great Depression. Science education will not improve because of committees, reports, plans, or grants. We desperately must have real innovation in science education. More of the same just won't work.

The global economy makes our situation even more desperate. Even if we do avoid slipping backward or even make some forward progress, we'll be moving backward with respect to our important global economic competitors. We have to do more than just maintain our position.

This book explores the nature of science education, its special aspects, its history, and the means to repair it. Our work will be difficult because we're seeking to improve science education on a reduced budget. That task will take all of our intellectual resources and will require overcoming the built-in inertia of our education system.

© 2011 by Harry E. Keller, Manhattan Beach, CA U.S.A.
Follow this author on ETC Journal