Patrick McGrath
Re-envisioning Education and Democracy
Public Intellectual Essay
April 26, 2000
LOCAL FUNDING OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS: IMPLICATIONS FOR OUR DEMOCRACY
Democracies are fragile things. While the United States has weathered an invasion, a depression, two world wars, as well as racial and political upheaval, our system of representative government remains as vulnerable as ever. Because while a strong economy and defense establishment can assure a significant place in world affairs, those two things along do not guarantee the freedoms we take for granted every day. Rather, it is how we educate our citizens that determines the amount of freedom—or repression—present in the domestic sphere. To this end, public schools fulfill a national role that no other institution can: instilling us citizens with the necessary skills to govern ourselves. Contemporary political theorist Amy Gutmann proposes three essential characteristics of a healthy democracy: fair procedures, constitutional rights, and moral deliberation about controversial political issues. While schools’ curricula differ from district to district (as they should), all of them must be educating students to respect these fundamental values in order to be defensible on democratic grounds. If they fail and we do nothing to correct the situation, we have by default made a decision to forgo the values that make our current freedoms possible. So, assuming that democracy and self-rule are still fundamental values of our society that we wish to perpetuate, what can we do to assure their continuity in the United States? I propose that many of the problems schools currently face are the result of inherent flaws in local-level funding schemes. A recognition of education as an issue with imminent, national consequences should have the effect of moving more financial control of schools and districts away from localities and to the state and federal levels. While it may seem paradoxical, such a shift could actually give voters more control over how their local schools are funded.
In the political discourse on the state of education in America today, it is common to hear talk of “failing schools,” or the more ominous “failed schools.” These phrases imply that the schools in question once received the benefit of the doubt in the form of funding and strategic support, then squandered their opportunity with administrative mismanagement and corruption. In what is far more often the case, schools’ fates are decided before money even arrives. Regressive taxes, local political disempowerment, and racism all contribute to a funding model that fails the schools most in need.
The source of public money is, of course, taxation, and aside from private gifts, public schools are no exception. But most public school districts are funded by property taxes (Johns et al. 100), a peculiar system if one’s goal is equal opportunity for all. The consequence of using local property taxes to fund school districts is financial disparity between areas with high property values, and areas with low property values. Speaking very generally, children living in areas with higher property values already have a number factors to their advantage, including educated parents, stable homes, and the guarantee of food, clothing, and shelter. Children in low-income areas more often lack these things, and if they are to succeed in graduating high school at comparable rates and going on to live fulfilling lives, these disadvantages must be balanced by excellent schooling. But on the contrary, the current local tax scheme accomplishes just the opposite, providing far more money per student to those who live in richer areas than those who live in poor ones. Furthermore, if the wealthy districts have fewer school-age children, which they often do, this disparity is even greater. Jonathan Kozol’s remarkable investigation into the state of American schools, Savage Inequalities, details the extent to which this is happening.
Along with regressive property taxes, local financial control over education makes it difficult for communities to affect progressive reform. The ability of local governments to determine how much money to spend on education is limited by economic reality; businesses and the owners of highly-valued land can and do relocate when school taxes become high relative to those in nearby areas. So even if an town or city wishes to spend more on education, to do so could erode the tax base and undo whatever gains the increased taxes accomplished in the first place. Secondly, since property taxes are the source of school funding, it is impossible to make the decision to prioritize education over, for example, road construction since transportation money comes from a different source, either income or sales taxes, and citizens do not have the same kind of direct control over those like they do for schools. And as Gutmann says, “[L]ocal referenda on school budgets are by far the most effective and obvious means by which citizens can register their desire to slow down government spending and taxation…Even if they would prefer to limit spending by cutting back not on education but on some other goods were they given the choice, they may vote to decrease funding for schools simply for lack of any other effective vehicle for expressing their wish to reduce government spending” (Gutmann, 141).
Local control of district funding can provide a cover for racist policies. Our federal government is officially anti-racist, and the fight against institutionalized racism in our country has been conducted and enforced at a national level. The integration of schools in 1954 is perhaps the best known example. But while we have come a long way since then, racism still exists and has become even harder eliminate. By giving local school boards to power to grant some schools much more money than others, we enable racist policies—often unconsciously racist—to continue “under the radar” of our ostensibly egalitarian national education policy. It is no secret that many of America’s worst inner-city schools are almost entirely attended by nonwhite students. A excerpt from a report conducted by New York’s Community Service Society regards local funding finds, “…it is inescapable that these [funding] inequities are being perpetuated on school districts which are virtually all black and Hispanic…those who allocate resources make decisions over and over again which penalize the poorest districts…analysis of city policy speaks to a systematic bias which constitutes a conspiracy of effect” (Kozol 99). Adequate publicity would insure that such policies would never survive if proposed at a national level.
By localizing control over schools’ finances, we are in effect disempowering ourselves as voters and citizens. Even more significantly, we are giving a deserving kids a short shrift in education and a chance at a transcendent future. Besides the obvious moral implications, this default national policy will bear rotten fruit in the form of citizens who lack not only critical thinking and problem-solving skills, but also any sense of personal investment in the success and continuity of the American democracy. Disillusioned, disempowered people are a poor foundation for self-rule, and having them may open the door to frightening political developments.
Up to this point, some readers might be thinking, “I agree that good schools are necessary for a functioning democracy, but these arguments are focused too much on the financing of schools and not the quality and accountability of the administration and teaching staff.” This is a valid point. Money is not the only issue, and to address it alone would be ignoring a fundamental aspect of education: the personalities involved. Money alone will not guarantee that students graduate with the critical thinking skills and inclination for civic participation that democracy requires. But one cannot do any of these things without money either. Using the excuse that money is wasted on poorly-performing schools assumes that all schools start from the same place monetarily when being judged, when this could hardly be further from the case.
Given the physical state of some inner-city schools, it is hard to imagine that even a staff made up entirely of award-winning teachers could much to improve the situation. These are the schools that are located in low-income, low-property value areas, and consequently have half or less than half per-pupil dollars to spend than suburban schools. Consider this passage from Savage Inequalities:
Overcrowding in New Jersey, as in Harlem and the Bronx, is a constant feature of the schools that serve the poorest children. In low-income Irvington, for instance, where 94 percent of students are nonwhite, 11 classes in one school don’t even have the luxury of classrooms. They share an auditorium in which they occupy adjacent sections of the stage and backstage areas…”I’m housed in a coat room,” says a reading teacher at another school in Irvington. “I teach,” says a music teacher, “in a storage room.” Two other classes, their teachers say, are in converted coal bins. A guidance counselor says she holds her parent meetings in a closet. “My problem,” says a compensatory-reading teacher, “is that I work in a pantry…It’s very difficult to teach in these conditions” (Kozol, 159)
The last sentence no doubt is an understatement. To fault teachers like these for the performance of the schools as a whole is like blaming flood damage on sandbaggers. The moral outrage of such situations should be enough to stimulate reform in local school districts, but the history of school reform has disproved that assumption. In any case, it can be safely said that if children are not being educated even to a minimally acceptable level, they are certainly not going to learn the complex citizenship skills needed to maintain a functional democracy.
At stake in the various debates over education in this country is nothing less than the future of self-rule in the United States of America. Hyperbole you say? Consider that nothing guarantees the continuity of our constitutional system of government. As stated earlier, a strong economy and military will maintain our borders and material standards of living, but the power to control our political destiny hinges on the ability of our citizens—not just a small minority—to think in the long-term. Our citizens must be educated about the dangers that exist when self-interest is over-glorified and liberty is taken for granted.
Alexis de Tocqueville, French sociologist of the 19th century, is known as one of America’s most well-known admirers, as well as one of its most well-respected critics. Observing the democratic experiment in the New World from a France convulsed by revolution, he saw incredible potential in the American system, as well as a number of trends that could lead it astray. Given de Tocqueville’s well-deserved reputation of brilliance and uncanny prescience, it seems appropriate here to use some of his warnings about the weaknesses of democracy in order to demonstrate the need for civic education. These weaknesses are inherent in a system of self-rule, and only constant vigilance in the form of a rigorous, comprehensive education can prevent them from eroding our democracy.
Individualism, as so eloquently defined by Tocqueville in his classic study Democracy in America, “is a calm and considered feeling which disposes each citizen to isolate himself from the mass of his fellows and withdraw into the circle of family and friends; with this little society formed to his taste, he gladly leaves the greater society to look after itself.” It is also one characteristic that Americans typically pride themselves on. Related to individualism is egoism, and as de Tocqueville explains, “Egoism is a passionate and exaggerated love of self which leads a man to think of all things in terms of himself and to prefer himself to all.” Unfortunately, while “egoism sterilizes the seeds of every virtue; individualism at first only dams the spring of public virtues, but in the long run it attacks and destroys all the others too and finally merges in egoism” (Tocqueville, 507). Self-interest begins to lose its glamour when one considers that it can lead to egoism, which in turn leads to the sterilization of the seeds of all public virtue. Public virtue, the set of values that compels one to participate in the democratic process, is essential to self-rule and freedom. An educational system that defines each citizen’s roles and responsibilities in relation to the rest of society can prevent the loss of public virtue, and by extension the loss of freedom.
Along with public virtue and sense of responsibility, liberty itself is threatened by an ignorant public. Liberty is the seawall that holds back the tide of egoism and opportunistic despotism in our democracy. But liberty in the large, national, self-determination-of-government sense of the word is a privilege used so rarely as to be irrelevant and abstract in most peoples’ day-to-day affairs. And, Tocqueville stresses, liberty will vanish without use. He admires how the United States avoids this by involving its citizens on a continuous basis in decisions that affect their lives:
It is difficult to force a man out of himself and get him to take an interest in the affairs of the whole state, for he has little understanding of the way in which the fate of the state can influence his own lot. But if it is a question of taking a road past his property, he sees at once that this small public matter has a bearing on his greatest private interests, and there is no need to point out to him the close connection between his private profit and the general interest.
This strategy can at first seem distasteful; it uses selfishness as its motivation. But, “local liberties, then which induce a great number of citizens to value the affection of their kindred and neighbors, bring men constantly into contact, despite the instincts that separate them, and force them to help one another” (511). The end is noble. Tocqueville has a number on concerns, though, about the durability of liberty:
So long as [an ambitious and able man] sees to it for a certain time that material interests flourish, he can easily get away with everything else. He must above all guarantee good order. People passionately bent on physical pleasures usually observe how agitation in favor of liberty threatens prosperity before they appreciate how liberty helps to procure the same. When the slightest rumor of public passions disturbs the trivial pleasures of their private lives, they wake up and feel worried. The fear of anarchy haunts them, and they are always ready to jettison liberty in the slightest storm.
In short, everyone has the same lot in life, and will forsake the power of self-destiny in exchange for prosperity. The door opens for tyranny. By teaching children that the price of freedom is proactive participation and eternal vigilance, we may be able to prevent the aforementioned tyranny.
Hopefully I have succeeded in demonstrating to the reader a cause-and-effect relationship between assuring the youths of this country a quality education and the political future of this country. Without a doubt, the three criteria for healthy democracy I mentioned at the beginning of this essay (fair procedures, constitutional rights, and moral deliberation about controversial political issues) are contingent upon an intelligent, questioning public. So now that we’ve established that there is a problem with localized funding, and that we must correct it to maintain the freedoms we value, the question that remains is:
I stated earlier that one major problem with local funding is the way in which it limits the choices available to voters. Schooling is one part of a wide range of public services offered by the government, but unlike hospitals, statewide transportation projects, or for that matter, national missile defense systems, its funding is contingent on regular local referenda. This makes it impossible to directly prioritize education over missile defense in this country since the money to support each of those services comes from different sources, and funding allocation takes place at different times. We cannot divert money from a missile shield to local schools. This is a limitation of, and threat to, our democracy. It must be changed.
In Democratic Education, Amy Gutmann explores ways that this dilemma could be resolved. To create, as she puts it, concurrent choice in the matter of funding social goods and services, there are two theoretical options. To create concurrent funding decisions while maintaining local funding of schools, we would need to bring other social services down to the local level and have referenda on them as well. However, the resources at the local level would never be enough to fund the wide variety of expensive projects we have come to expect. The alternative, then, is to raise the decisions about the funding of schools to the state or federal level. This would enable people to decide between education and the military, to continue that example. Also, the possible erosion of local tax bases is avoided. Thankfully, we have been seeing a trend in that direction. States provided 16.5% of school funding in 1919-20, and 47.4% in 1980-81. Amy Gutmann asks the provocative question, “why, then, stop at the state level, rather than push for full federal funding of education?” (143). This does not necessarily need to create a totalitarian American Education™. According to The Economics and Financing of Education, “some states supply state funds with few controls, others with many controls” (152). The same principle applies to federal funding, and along with the constitutional right of states to control local education (Grubb & Michelson), control of curricula and teaching strategies can remain in the hands of those whom they most directly affect. State and local governments could also choose to grant extra educational dollars to those schools they see fit, with the assurance that federal funding would establish for all children a threshold below which their education could not slip.
A democratic system is obliged to assure that all school districts, and their students, are being provided with an acceptable education. This is necessary not only on moral grounds, but on practical grounds as well. A sub-standard educational system is not “someone else’s problem.” The children for whom such a system fails do not disappear. Frustrated, angry, and owing nothing to the society which has written them off, crime, drugs, and violence are frequently the only options they have available, and these are problems that affect all of us. They cause society to turn ever farther inward in the pursuit of narrow self-interest. The death of civic consciousness and participation may not immediately cause the collapse of representative government and self-rule, but it certainly opens the door to non-democratic trends. We know from history that republics can turn to empires; let’s not make the same mistake. Looking into such an abyss, I hope that we as a society will begin to put education—and the civic instruction—far higher in our list of priorities than it has been recently. And we can do it: the obstacles to a better society are not nearly as high as we perceive them to be.
Gutmann, Amy. Democratic Education, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1987.
Gutmann, Amy. “Why Should Schools Care About Civic Education?” In: Rediscovering the Democratic Purposes of Education, Lawrence, Kansas: University Press of Kansas, 2000.
Johns, Roe L., Edgar L. Morphet, Kern Alexander. The Economics and Financing of Education, 4th ed. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1983.
Kozol, Jonathan. Savage Inequalities: Children in America’s Schools, New York: HarperCollins, 1991.
Tocqueville, Alexis de. Democracy in America. HarperCollins Publishers, New York. 1996.