Death of critical thinking is what all authoritarian masters cherish

“No meaningful teaching/learning is possible if the psychology of fear robs us of our voice. In fact, the toxic politics we see around has created an environment in which one can be censored, disciplined and punished for any critical voice that seeks to interrogate the logic of the Establishment, say, the reduction of the supreme leader of the ruling party into a non-questionable messiah; the legitimization of his every act, speech or policy through the logic of popularity and electoral statistics; and the simple equation that divides us into two categories or binaries — deshbhakts or nationalists and anti-national conspirators.”

The politics of critical pedagogy probes the discourse of power, interrogates all sorts of authoritarianism, promotes the ethos of dialogue and art of listening, sees education beyond the acquisition of mere market-friendly technical skills, and strives for enlightened/democratic citizenship. However, these days amid the all-pervading toxic politics, and cultural/psychic pollution all around, a sense of despair or pessimism seems to be preventing many of us from celebrating or practicing the art of critical pedagogy.

It is vital to spread the ethos of critical pedagogy — the pedagogy of love, resistance and social transformation.

To begin with, let us acknowledge a simple fact: no meaningful teaching/learning is possible if the psychology of fear robs us of our voice. In fact, the toxic politics we see around has created an environment in which one can be censored, disciplined and punished for any critical voice that seeks to interrogate the logic of the Establishment, say, the reduction of the supreme leader of the ruling party into a non-questionable messiah; the legitimization of his every act, speech or policy through the logic of popularity and electoral statistics; and the simple equation that divides us into two categories or binaries — deshbhakts or nationalists and anti-national conspirators.

As this psychology of fear invades our campuses and classrooms through politically appointed academic bureaucrats, it destroys the soul of critical pedagogy. It becomes difficult to learn and unlearn through questions, conversations and dialogue. Imagine the intensity of the danger. A student or a teacher can be suspended or expelled if he/she dares to watch the much talked about BBC documentary on the 2002 Gujarat riots. Or, for that matter, a series of FIRs can haunt you if you print a poster revealing your unhappiness with the present regime. And you can be jailed if your critical reflections ‘hurt’ the sentiments of hyper-nationalists playing with the fire of religious fundamentalism.

How is it then possible to create a culture of learning that promotes dialogue and art of listening, and encourages us to ask uncomfortable questions? The fact is that the cult of authoritarianism, and even electoral authoritarianism, needs either non-reflexive conformists or indulgent consumers as market fundamentalism and religious fundamentalism often go together. This is like annihilating the spirit of critical pedagogy.

Likewise, critical pedagogy requires the cultivation of some mental/intellectual faculties, say, the quality of endurance and patience needed to examine an issue relating to politics, culture, religion or economy with alertness, facts and conceptual clarity; and the courage to amend and even alter one’s position through nuanced debates and conversations. However, the characteristic feature of toxic politics is that it is loud, noisy and abusive. And it has further been accelerated by the propaganda machinery and the instantaneity of social media. If your educator is primarily the noisy television news anchor who turns everything into its opposite, or if you continually see political spokespersons of different colors or even ministers spreading lies and false information without the slightest shame and guilt, or if anything beyond irresponsible and destructive messages disseminated through social media look ‘boring’, how is it possible to verify facts, think clearly and critically, and evolve an informed opinion?

To take an illustration, let us ask a question: In his Cambridge speech, did Rahul Gandhi really plead for foreign intervention in India to save Indian democracy, as the spokespersons for the ruling party want us to believe? Or, is it that while emphasizing this ‘internal’ problem — the growing danger to our democracy — he only urged his audience to be aware of it as Indian democracy is a ‘public good’? You can verify facts and respond with moral responsibility only if you bother to see beyond ‘viral’ videos, aggressive press conferences, catchy Twitter messages, and listen to Rahul’s long speech carefully.

Likewise, it is only through deep listening and alert thinking can you understand that if you are critical of Lalit Modi or Nirav Modi, you are not conveying a message that all those who bear the surname ‘Modi’ or belong to a particular caste are like these two corrupt persons. It is as simple as understanding that every Gandhi is not necessarily like Mahatma Gandhi, or, for that matter, every Savarkar is not necessarily a proponent of militant Hindutva. Imagine the damage that this intoxication with toxic politics and associated fake news has done to our collective psyche. Indeed, the death of critical thinking is what authoritarian/narcissistic masters all over the world cherish.

And finally, critically pedagogy is related to the pedagogy of hope. However, this hope seems to be eroding fast as the toxic political culture is transforming even children, adolescents and youth into cynics, or dreamless ‘pragmatists’. Imagine what it means to live in a world where our political bosses, ministers and demagogues do not have the slightest hesitation in vomiting filthy words and nasty slogans to castigate their opponents. Are we normalizing hate speech, like ‘Yeh Congress ki kaunsi vidhwa thi, jiske khaate mein rupaya jaata tha?’, ‘Goli maaro saalon ko’, or ‘Apne kabhi dekha hai 50 crore ka girlfriend?’ Such vulgar language has entered every locality; and ironically, decency in public life is seen as ‘effeminate’ as we normalise authoritarianism, religious fundamentalism and hyper-masculine aggression as the order of the day. Can we recover the lost language — the language of sanity, or the language of ethically responsible and intellectually nuanced conversations?

Yes, these are terribly difficult times. But then, those who believe in the efficacy of a truly transformative education ought to unite, raise their voice, interact with students and teachers, and spread the ethos of critical pedagogy — the pedagogy of love, resistance and social transformation.
(The author is a sociologist)