Assessing the arguments against gifted education: Rejoinder to Robin Small.

Robin Small and I appear to agree much more than we disagree. We both affirm that gifted and talented children -- like all children -- have the right to develop their abilities to the fullest. Neither of us pretends that all children have gifts or talents (I like Small's description of this as `a pious fiction, not a helpful insight') or that differences in innate abilities do not exist or influence children's capacities to learn. We are both aware of the power of the word `elitism' in hindering the use, in Australia, of educational interventions which other nations have used successfully for many years to assist in fostering the potential of gifted children.

However, not all educators find themselves in agreement with our philosophies. The pious fiction is usually expressed as a confident assertion, and programs for the gifted are often emotively portrayed as actively disadvantaging other students. I will give just three examples of the very many such claims over the last ten years. A senior executive from the Tasmanian Education Department argues against special assistance for gifted students on the grounds that `helping the gifted overlooks and devalues the excellence that is inherent in everyone' (Boag, 1990, p. 149). Carey (1994) of the Australian Education Network describes the provision of special programs for intellectually gifted students as `educational apartheid' and `the segregation of the "gifted and talented" from the great unwashed' (p. 18). In a recent interview in the Brisbane Courier Mail, the President of the Queensland Teachers Union is reported as describing the Minister for Education's proposal even to consider the introduction of selective high schools as elitist, socially unjust and, echoing Carey, educational apartheid (Lloyd, 1999). (It is disturbing to note both the emotive language in which these claims are expressed, with its overtones of racial discrimination, and the claimants' failure to buttress their assertions with any supportive evidence.)

Small is correct in noting that my arguments are addressed to several audiences, which vary in both interests and attitudes -- politicians, teachers, bureaucrats, unionists, school administrators and many others. As can be seen from the previous paragraph, opposition to gifted education is found in many and disparate groups. The commonality of these `audiences' lies in their responsibility for the education and welfare of Australia's children, including her gifted and talented children -- a group for whom that responsibility is more often abrogated than upheld.

My sporting analogy

Perhaps I have not clarified this point sufficiently, perhaps Small has misunderstood; but in employing a sporting analogy to contrast Australia's enthusiasm for developing sporting and athletic talent with our reluctance to develop intellectual talent, I am not promoting sporting philosophies as `good' models for education. Rather I am suggesting that the arguments often put forward against the development of programs for the academically gifted are weakened by the fact that the very provisions often condemned as dangerous/impractical/costly/inequitable for the development of intellectual talent are viewed as desirable and freely accepted for the development of other talents (particularly, but not only, talent in sports and athletics). The analogy holds unless it can be shown either (a) that the principles of effective development of intellectual talent are in some way radically different from those of other kinds of talent, or (b) that accepted practices/philosophies in sporting or other fields are either bad or counter-productive and therefore should not be adopted in education.

Small's criticism of my reference to the Olympic Games as `prestigious' is a rather obvious red herring. Despite his or anyone else's reservations (including my own) concerning such issues as bribery, drug abuse and corruption, it is patently still true that such international events are very prestigious indeed (even for undesirable reasons), else why would cities and countries try so hard, commit so much money and even stoop to unethical means to be able to host them? My reference to the Olympics was intended to further the analogy with the `ideal' of the sporting culture; however, if this was not clear enough, I apologise.

The national resources rationale

Small is correct in noting that Borland (1989), after presenting both the `national resources' and `special education' rationales, affiliates himself with the latter. His view, which Small shares and which I also endorse, is that the most potent and valid rationale for developing special provisions for gifted and talented students is the right of all children to an education which will assist them to develop their potential to the fullest. Small seems to suggest, however, that a preference for one of those two rationales precludes an endorsement of the other; and I find this difficult to accept. Certainly, the primary rationale for providing special programs for gifted students is that of equity -- as Small himself phrases it, simply and elegantly, `because they are fair to these children or because they make them happier'. I do believe, however, that each of us has an obligation to use what strengths or gifts we have to assist other people. I am not talking, here, about `noble self-sacrifice' -- simply the exercise of our abilities in such a way that not only we, but also others, benefit from our abilities or achievements. We may become a family `resource', a resource to our friends or a local or community resource. Unusually talented people may, indeed, become a national resource -- but only if their abilities have been developed into achievements.

However, whether one approves or disapproves, the fact remains that public policy decisions are very often made not on the basis of their benefit to the individuals affected, but on the basis of their benefit to the `national interest' and sometimes with the even more dubious purpose of protecting the nation's international `reputation'. Perhaps the notional `target' of my argument for the `national resource' rationale -- our political leaders -- was not made sufficiently explicit, but this does not detract from the potency of the rationale, even if its validity may be questioned by some readers.

Elitism 

Small seems to misunderstand my use of this term completely; although I agree with Beazley's definition that it properly applies to arbitrary, aristocratic privilege, the whole thrust of my argument is that the word is often used much more loosely than it should be, and specifically that it is used in both a positive and negative sense depending on the context. What I am saying is: if `elitist' is a positive term in the context of developing sporting or athletic talent, then why is it not a positive term in the context of the development of intellectual talent? And conversely, of course, if the words `elite' and `elitist' are used pejoratively in the context of special programs for academically gifted students, why does Australia commit special funding for `elite' sports and `elite' athletes? It is not I who want to `have it both ways'; I am merely trying to point out (apparently with limited success!) that there appear to be people who do.

Australian egalitarianism 

Obviously the roots (perhaps even the existence) of this characteristic are open to debate. However, whereas I have supported my views with numerous references, Small has simply tried to undermine my argument with his own assessment, ending with the purely speculative suggestion that `if Australians were really like this, their attitudes would be very different' with no attempt either to cite countervailing authorities or to question the credentials of my citations. If my argument rests only on `a few stereotypes' rather than on `real evidence', it would be very useful to have that real evidence brought forward.

The special education rationale

Like Borland, and like myself, Small endorses the `special education' rationale, which proposes that whatever children need to optimise their educational potential should be provided for them -- even if what they need is significantly different from what is required by other children. He criticises me, however, for using the analogy of children with disabilities, saying that `many people feel uneasy with such a comparison'. I am aware that this analogy makes some people uncomfortable; but that, surely, does not deny its validity.

One of the central premises of education is that children should be allowed, and assisted, to develop to the full extent of their abilities. We willingly honour this premise with children whose physical or intellectual limitations arouse our compassion; we do not, however, apply it as readily to children whose capacity to learn is greater than our own. And this is not equity. Indeed it is hypocrisy.

References

Borland, J. (1989). Planning and implementing programs for the gibed. New York: Teachers College Press.

Boag, C. (1990, May 15). Our gifted children: Bright, bored and ignored. Bulletin, pp.48-54.

Carey, M. (1994). New fashioned apartheid? Education Links, 47, 18-22.

Lloyd, G. (1999, March 16). A place for tall poppies? Courier-Mail, p.7.

Miraca U.M. Gross The University of New South Wales