Is this all going to work? Congress in 1996 passed legislation saying all schools ought to be connected to the Internet, a theme which figured in the President's reelection campaign later that year. Nobody was quite sure what more needed to be done - virtually all public schools at the time had computers, and many had some sort of Internet access (courtesy of NetDay and similar "grass roots" initiatives). Probably more significantly, nobody in Washington had any good idea what would be done with all this technological paraphernalia.
But the politics certainly were good. People were unhappy about public education. All across the country, soccer moms - those critical, pivotal voters living in the 28 counties Congressional Quarterly has identified as key - were reading Family Circle, Reader's Digest, even local newspaper articles about how computers and the Internet were a necessary component of "quality education." Politicians relish topics that seem "high-tech," suggest great prescience, and demonstrate how much the politician may care.
In that classic work on bureaucracy, Yes, Minister - one of the few books to grow out of a TV sitcom, rather than the other way 'round - the mythical Minister of Administrative Affairs, later the Rt. Hon. James Hacker, instructs his speech writer to include in all his remarks the line, "And, the silicon chip is changing all of our lives." Hence, whether Hacker's opening an urban petting zoo, dedicating a hospital, or announcing an environmentally sensitive "Save the Badgers" program, in goes the line - to universal approbation.
"Wiring the schools" may well be the current equivalent of this cynical policy. Certainly it's also proven to be one of America's more popular exports. Last summer, French President Jacques Chirac declared on national television that maintaining la Gloire and French cultural hegemonism rested on both wiring schools and fostering more use of computers (reductions in France's punitive value-added taxes were proposed as a stimulus). England's Office of Telecommunications - sort of their Federal Communications Commission (FCC) - has been unveiling British "wire-the-school" programs for years (British Telecom just announced the latest round of connection discounts, incidentally). Japan's wiring also, of course. It's sort of a modern-day analog to the old Cold War arm's race, with every country worried they'll somehow fall behind.
In the United States, Congress only set the broad, high policy, of course, and left working out all the niggling details to the FCC. The U.S. Department of Education, the classic bureaucracy on the make, immediately announced that they'd help the FCC. All across the government, agency budgeters, ever alert to new initiatives popular with politicians and having "sustaining value," promptly came up with their own programs. Testimony before the House Telecommunications, Trade & Consumer Protection Subcommittee this past spring indicated there were some 13 distinct federal programs aggregating about $9 billion envisioned in the fiscal year 1997 federal budget, all for the purpose of wiring schools, distributing computers, subsidizing the Internet, and so forth.
Last summer, the FCC came up with some of the money. Rules were adopted, in effect, to surcharge all telecommunications services and distribute some $2.25 billion annually in support of wiring schools (public libraries, too). Percentage-wise, this is a rounding error relative to America's $195 billion a year "telecommunications economy" - even smaller if one folds in all the computer, software and online services stuff. Socialize that $2.25 billion across the U.S. telephone "access lines" universe, however, and it works out to around $1.25 per line per month. Consistent with the Dirksen Rule, in short, a dollar here, a dollar there, and pretty soon you start talking about real money.
For American educators, this program creates both the proverbial challenges and opportunities. One of the challenges, for instance, turns on the issue of visibility. There actually are people in education who have at least a vague idea - sometimes, quite a bit more - about how one educates using telecommunications and computers. A lot of them may actually subscribe to this magazine.
Like most Washington programs, however, this one is being designed by lawyers and politicians (they tend to be coterminous sets). One reason is that lawyers (including myself) automatically assume they know all about everything, or can quickly pick things up. Another reason is that everyone assumes they're an expert when it comes to education. Is there a parent in the country who doesn't understand these things at least as well as their child's teacher?
If parents - or lawyers, or politicians - were asked for their latest ideas on how to improve neurosurgery, one probably wouldn't be deluged with suggestions. There is something about teaching - like music, writing books and making movies - however, which brings out the imagined expertise in all of us.
What the professional educators need to do, in short, is establish - perhaps reestablish - their status in Washington and the public's eye. If that's not done, well, they'll end up being saddled by a "Rube Goldberg's twin brother"-style mishmash cooked up by Washington bureaucrats and lawyer-politicians.
A second challenge facing educators, and those knowledgeable about telecommunications and computer applications, is related: That's the challenge of resisting the centralization of decision-making in Washington.
All of us should have learned three fundamental lessons over the past 10 years. First, central planning usually doesn't work. Ask the Comecon bureaucracy that once endeavored to mismanage the Soviet bloc economy. Central planning imposes enormous direct costs. It's inimical to flexibility and adaptability. And, it thus makes it very hard, if not impossible, to capitalize on new circumstances and a changing environment.
Second, trusting individuals usually does work. Given freedom and discretion, it's amazing what people can accomplish - even out there in what Washington calls "fly-over America." It's also amazing the workable solutions to complicated challenges that people and markets can produce.
Third, if Government has to intervene to safeguard clearly defined public policy goals, you'll probably do best by moving the issue to that level of Government which is closest to the challenge. They'll probably come up with the best - or, the "least worst" - solution. And, they'll probably also be most careful - because they're most directly accountable.
It will obviously be very difficult to resist the centripetal forces inherent in any large, money-blessed, Congressionally devised program. If schools or libraries are tapping into that $2.25 billion, the argument will go, how can we be sure the money's being spent right? First will come rules, followed by efforts to police compliance with the rules, and before you know it, it'll be a mess. Potentially.
To the extent that educators out there in the provinces demonstrate expertise, they'll obviously have a better chance when it comes to retaining some significant control. The educators will have to fend off their own local administrative cadre, of course. You know how they can be. Again, however, demonstrating to Washington decision-makers (preferably the elected ones) that there actually are people in the United States who know about, and have studied, these things - well, that has to be good.
Finally, the American educational community has to be prepared to challenge Family Circle frontally, and to dispute the popular notion that computers, the Internet, and what Zorba the Greek prophetically called the "full catastrophe" somehow is education's silver bullet. There aren't many complicated problems that admit to simple solutions, and that's certainly true of American education. The problem with the national penchant for "Star Wars"-style quick fixes, however, is that old bit about making choices foreclosing possible alternatives.
Computers and the Internet are wonderful things. According to one back-of-the-envelope cost forecast, however, wiring every classroom and simply keeping the LANs and machines working implicates outlays on the order of what public schools currently spend on textbooks annually. Anyone who's watched a Fortune 100 company's computer operations is immediately reminded of the old line about yachts - a hole in the water into which you pour money.
There has to be somebody prepared to apply a credible "reality test" to these technological ventures. Since the Washington lawyers and politicians aren't likely to do that, it'll just have to be done by folks out there in education who know what they're doing. Sorry about that.
Computers, the Internet, and U.S. education, in conclusion, might be the optimal recipe for forward progress. Professional educators knowledgeable about how to exploit telecommunications and computer technologies, however, ought to be prepared to do their duty. They need, first, to reestablish their decisional primacy - to show that they know what they're doing. Second, they need to emphasize that centralizing probably won't work. Finally, they also need to be candid, and to make it clear to parents and politicians that there's no single, universal panacea. And, if the educators gum or swallow the bullet? Well, this great leap forward has real potential - consistent with what they say about computers generally - to be really fouled up.
Kenneth G. Robinson is a Washington communications lawyer who worked 24 years for the federal government. 72154.232@compuserve.com