Faith schools.

28.10.2009.
The question here is whether there is value in faith schools. Anglican and Catholic schools in Britain were among the first to be developed, before the state school system, and it is only recently that Muslim and Jewish schools have developed, with other religions taking an interest. Current policies have promoted these as responsive to parent needs. From the beginning, the object was the religious conversion and nurture of pupils. The parallel purpose was to make children good (that is, to enhance religious observance and moral behaviour).

I have come across two books of interest. Reflecting on Faith Schools edited by Helen Johnson of Kingston University; and For Goodness Sake: Religious Schools and Education for Democratic Citizenry by Walter Feinberg, both from 2006. Johnson balanced the views of the headteacher of Islamia School against the philosophical tirade of Roger Marples against indoctrination and for children's rights to be critically and openly educated. Other chapters (originally short conference papers) explore circumstances in war (Bogata), a comparison of a Catholic and a Jewish school, Methodism and Southlands College, Australian Catholicism, and historical-political aspects. Among the issues are, should education include religious teachings and make moral (behavioural) demands? how should education work on the attitudes of pupils? Are there benefits from a traditional framework for learning? The editor's own interest in reflection comes in two separate 'commentaries', but does not really penetrate into the book as a whole. Most chapters are descriptive rather than reflective.

The reality is that compulsion is not a lasting mechanism for developing religious convictions. Religious education may be supported by parents, but pupils  are) not always persuaded. The fact that Christianity is based on miracle (the virgin birth and resurrection) adds to resistance. The dilemma for the curriculum was: how should the balance be achieved between religious instruction and critical thinking? The 1944 Education Act wrestled with it, insisting on a compulsory place for religious education, which it has had ever since - but as a part of a melange of literacy, numeracy, science, humanities and the arts. The concept of the broad curriculum is still with us.

Today, curriculum balance is an issue only for private schools. A fundamentalist Christian school, or a Muslim school could, if it chose, emphasise religious teachings at the expense of critical skills and knowledge. The events of 7/11 led to many fundamentalist Muslim schools being suspected as harbouring terrorists, which systemically they were not, even if a few individuals were radicalised. Such decisions about curriculum emphasis are not inevitable; Muslim schools have made curriculum decisions which are western and secular, whilst maintaining a key but minority place for religious (Islamic) education. Some have encouraged multifaith understanding by broader curriculum encouraging visits by members of other faiths.

Education needs to prepare pupils for life in a global world. Our question however is whether this is best served by a faith school based on the beliefs of one religion, or whether open inclusive schools without religious privilege are better fitted.

Feinberg sets himself this task. He studies a range of religious schools in America and draws out in particular the issues of education for a plural society, liberalism, moral development and critical thinking. Whilst not hostile to religious schools per se, he indicates that to be educationally acceptable, these features need to be in evidence so that exclusivist bigotry does not take over. Feinberg gives examples of critical engagement within the religious community encouraging a thinking engagement with the religious tradition. He stresses the potential flexibility of interpretation and the importance of challenging authoritarianism. However, the fact that there is this latitude in belief does not irradicate the religious exclusivity of the institution.

I am not generally in favour of faith schools, but am the first to admit that secular schools can miss out on important aspects of learning if they are hostile to religious faith. Propositional scientific knowledge is important, but questions of what kind of people we are and the quality of good relationships are also vital preparations for life, and faith schools tend to be good at these. My problem with faith schools is the assertion that belief is truth, but this is not inevitable. A faith school could develop a positive criticality which examines the religion's truth claims rationally. A faith school need not have unquestioning fundamentalist assumptions and beliefs. This criticality would go a long way to help pupils disentangle the inner 'truth' from the fiction within religious belief. Pluralism should encourage and enable pupils to find common ground between faiths, through which dialogue becomes possible. I would argue that this should better develop a pupil's mature spirituality.

One last thought. 'Faith' schools is strange terminology. A catholic school, or a Muslim school, gives central place to its religious beliefs. My own personal faith, in the potential goodness of humanity and the possibility (but not inevitability) of global moral progress, is secular and not religious. There is an unexplained assumption that only religious people have faith. This is not so. Religious people have doctrine, so if the term 'religious' school has fallen out of favour, the accurate replacement would be 'doctrinal school'. This of course properly exposes the exclusivity (or lack of inclusivity) of the enterprise.