‘Worldviews’ and erasure of black history by the Religious Education Council of England and Wales
Photo by Santi Vedrí on Unsplash
Five years after this lecture was delivered the importance of ‘worldviews’ in RE education has only increased. In the global context of demands for an inclusive history in which the contribution of black people is not erased I find myself wanting recognition not because it makes a jot of difference to be personally or professionally but, in part, simply because it is the truth. More so, it is because the history of religious education in Britain is not a story of the ideas and interventions of white men. This is something owed to future generations of RE teachers. This black man resigned from the board of the REC because I felt that their promotion of a narrowed curriculum was racist; the attempts to erase him from the history only confirm those suspicions.
Ranvir Singh, Annual Lecture organized by Hounslow Standing Advisory Committee for Religious Education, 10th March 2015
This presentation has been revised since the dialogue was had with about forty guests, including teachers from every phase and local faiths communities and politicians, including an MP. I am grateful to each and every one of them for an enjoyable evening.
When I was first asked to talk I compared myself negatively to some of the luminaries who have spoken to this august body in the past. However, on reflection I came to the realization that I do have something of value to say. This is not because of any expertise drawn from any particular role in Religious Education but because of my experience in, perhaps, every role in Religious Education.
Therefore, rather than a lecture, please consider this speech as an invitation to dialogue. Bearing this in mind I would beg your indulgence so that there is only one question asked of me by each person. Also, forgive me if I direct questions to those with more knowledge than I — I can think of several questions that might be answered in more detail by Lesley Prior, for example.
I will begin with my work as a member of the board of the Religious Education Council for England and Wales over the past few years. My main contribution has been to keep pushing for breadth of study, both in primary and at secondary, and the suggestion of the phrase ‘worldview’.
The phrase ‘religions and worldviews’ is increasingly commonplace but, as with any trope, it is worth looking at what the phrase actually implies. It is, of course, simply an Anglisation of the German “weltanschauung” [velt-ahn-shou-oo-ng] which dictionary.com defines as, “a comprehensive conception or image of the universe and of humanity’s relation to it” and then, more trivially, “literally, world-view.”
My word may have been accepted as a sticking plaster, as a way to include non-religious perspectives but the intention was to fit the patient in a whole new cast, to move in completely new ways.
One way is to draw attention to how this lens affects everything that we can see and to look beneath that to the construction of the eye-piece itself: how is the eye-piece assembled? What materials have been used? What influences can be discerned? How strong is the supporting frame? In other words, it regards critical thinking methodology and an analysis of ideas in praxis as integral to Religious Education. The questions could be recast as: What practices sustain this vision? How convincing is the evidence has been used to support the lens? How does this vision link into, and feed off, wider human sciences, such as history, literature or art? To what is attention drawn, what is systematically ignored? If we test the logical coherence of the construction, what will we find?
So what sorts of content and skills are we talking about? Something about organisations and cultures, how and why they exist and cope with internal and external pressures to preserve themselves. Something about credibility criteria in relation to evidence — RAVEN (reputation, ability to observe, vested interest, expertise, neutrality or bias). Something about how our mental maps fit into other human constructions such as geography, history and cultures. Something about logic and fallacies, the dangers of faulty generalizations, irrational appeals and invalid reasoning. All of these skills are valid as an end in themselves but also as a means to an end.
And here we come to the elephant in the room — why study (or teach) Religious Education? The answer, for me, is to do with the construction of humanity. The human world is not part of the natural world — if it were so, all literature, music, all economic choices, all relationships could be reduced to the determinism of chemistry and biology. The human world is meta-natural, beyond the natural. This human world is been shaped in ways that draw together the social and natural worlds, i.e. Geography; it has been shaped by processes, movements and pivotal events, i.e. History; and this human world is shaped by ideas and worldviews and, it is this, I believe, that is the peculiar subject area of Religious Education. Ideas may be subjected to critical analysis but worldviews need a broader cultural analysis as they shape and are reinforced by social processes, survival as well as identity.
While it is true, for example, that economic depression influenced the Nazi rise to power, the United States also experienced depression. While Russia also experienced totalitarianism and Italy Fascism, Nazism appears to be more than just a type of totalitarianism or fascism; it is a unique phenomena. In other words, when you have exhausted the historical, explanatory factors (from outside) you are left with the worldviews (from inside) that shape people’s actions.
I now turn to my work as a teacher. I have taught in Inner London schools, Outer London schools, a private school and will soon teach in a faith school and a free school. In large part this has been by choice — only the grammar school sector remains. My interest is to look at what the subject means in different environments. While non-believers have been the majority in some environments and almost non-existent in others what I have found is a great deal of common ground. Students are intrigued by groups whom they encounter, such as Jehovah’s Witnesses, Rastafarians, ISIS, the Illuminati in no particular order. They also have an interest in moral and political issues, such as homosexuality, promiscuity, marriage, abortion, euthanasia, assisted reproduction, drug use, the limits of free speech, fairness in relation to gender, race and disability, war and justice. Finally, they are interested in ghosts and spirits, and arguments for and against the existence of God, among other non-physical existence, e.g. the existence of the mind, other minds, mathematics, morality, beauty, etc. They are a curious bunch wondering, at root, if there is a plan or if everything is random with humans desperately projecting ‘order’ on it. Religious Education is not just about giving young people the knowledge and skills to get a good job; it is also about getting them to think about what a good job might look like. It is quintessentially counter-cultural because the current set up of society, whether five years ago, twenty-five years ago, fifty years ago or five hundred years ago is not ‘natural’; it is social. It is a social construct that people will seek to improve. Five hundred and indeed five thousand years from now people will still wrestle individually, and in groups, with the same questions.
The process of dialogue as a method of approaching the subject will remain valid as long as logic remains valid, and when logic goes so will mathematics. But even if we suggest that reason is simply a ‘front’ for emotional desires and social pressures, longing lies at the beginning (and end) of the religious quest. What ‘longs’ is something beyond matter. My job is to kindle the curiosity and to fan the flames of young people through building a community of enquiry, demanding more independent research, reason, more evidence and more robust response to strong counter-arguments. There is social power in such a group of young people for they are the basis of an open society. It is not for me to know, or to share, an answer. A great compliment I was paid last year was from a pupil whom I had taught for six years who at age 18 was still unsure whether I was a believer or an atheist; this year, it was from a pupil a few weeks back who, having heard my exposition of Jewish faith, whispered to a fellow pupil before daring to ask me, “Are you Jewish, Sir — I thought that you were Sikh?”
This is surely informed by my expectations as a parent. I would expect my daughter to know about the people she is likely to encounter — the so-called “principal religions” of the UK. In addition to Christianity, they would include Sikhism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism and Islam. What I would expect is an ability to produce a list of frequently asked questions, a top ten FAQ that would make her “religiously literate.” Someone unable to construct such a list is, to some degree, socially dysfunctional, limited by their ignorance of people that they are highly likely to encounter. The narrowing of the range of religions and worldviews in the Non-Statutory Framework produced by the REC is, therefore, regrettable. For example, I do not believe that a person who is unaware that Sikh men, as well as some Muslim men, may wear turbans has been prepared for life in modern Britain. There may be personal costs to such ignorance but there will also be social costs that may be quantifiable into economic costs.
But there is another body of knowledge to study — one that validates the pupils in our classrooms and this is the importance of examining the systems and cultures of belief of every pupil in the classroom. The concept of Ubuntu and a study of the Benin bronzes and Great Zimbabwe can be the hook that draws an under-achieving black boy into the world of learning. A study of say Jain or Zoroastrian traditions can inform classmates about the cultural riches and philosophically interesting backgrounds close at hand — on the one hand, the atheism and glorious art of Jainism that could be linked to exhibitions in London museums (even if simply looked at online), and, on the other, the Persian Empire as the world’s first monotheistic superpower, which, incidentally, allows them to reconsider the evidence of a source such as the movie ‘300’. How to assess such knowledge?
At this point I put on the turban of a GCSE and A level examiner. The Department of Education has issued guidance that demonstrates a commitment to replace teacher assessment with formal assessment and which is heavy on religious content. Whereas a student might currently complete an A level in Philosophy of Religion and Ethics without studying any religion, this will not be possible any more. They must study a religion and/or a New Testament text. At GCSE there is a requirement to study two religions and it may yet be stipulated that one of these must be Christianity. The proposed programs of study will be more rigorous than the current specifications in terms of the amount of detailed content and due to the requirement to undertake a systematic study of one tradition and/or text.
However, they will be undeliverable in the current set up. In order to cover the range and depth of content many schools will choose to begin to teach these courses from Year 9 onwards, further reducing the breadth of study in the first years of secondary school. The structure of the examinations mean that we will be crediting confounds — memory tests and literacy, rather than the religious literacy and skills — the construct — we may wish to. As well as the current opportunities I would support the option of a group project similar to the coursework element of the current GCSE Citizenship that pupils need to plan, maintain records of, actually do and then evaluate. They need to reflect on this project management process in the examination also. I would also support a version of the Extended Project Qualification, which involves research and write-up of a topic of the pupil’s choice but where, once again, project management skills are emphasized and rewarded. Given that most universities, especially Russell Group ones, like the EPQ it is difficult to argue that it is not rigorous or valuable.
Moreover, the courses currently proposed seem to imply a specific pedagogy that draws on a particular relationship to texts and doctrines in the (low) Church. Should Christianity be mandated for GCSE study the rationale would link to the historic role that the religion has played, and the role that it continues to play, in Britain. This ought to imply looking at Christianity in Briton during the Roman Empire, Celtic Christianity, Anglo-Saxon burials, Norman architecture and Roman Catholic Christianity, the Dissolution of the Monasteries, Catholic persecution, development of an English prayer book, Protestant movements in relation to political and social reform, imperialism, Missionaries, the industrial revolution, black Churches, women’s rights, tensions in the Anglican communion and Orthodox Christians in Britain today. I suspect that the critical thinking and cultural studies dimensions that I have argued for will be suppressed in favour of an anti-historical and non-contextual textual study.
Please allow me to swap turbans yet again; this time, from the perspective of someone who writes as an educational consultant, has produced textbooks and has led sessions in PGCE training — let me talk about pedagogy. In what follows I have drawn on the work of Dave Francis, which appears on ReOnline. The recent turn in RS points to ‘concept cracking’, something that may be termed ‘theology from within’ and which is used to teach Christianity. At the risk of over-simplification the idea is to link something from the pupil’s experience to a belief in order to understand it from within. One could use texts, interviews and stories together with learner-centred examples to perceive the inner workings of Christianity, even if one were not a Christian. While it develops empathy the risk is that it may become some sort of faith nurture.
It is worth pausing to consider what it is replacing. The model of ‘human development — learning about and learning from’ dominated not only textbooks and schemes of work but also the structure of examinations papers where knowledge, explanation and analysis were assessed separately from response to. While this introduced a personal element into the study, noting not simply what it meant to ‘others’ but considering how it might apply or mean for oneself, the formula did appear, at times, a bit forced.
As outlined before, but not named, the approach I favour has more in common with critical realism. The approach demands that Religious Education is driven by ‘dangerous’ questions and uses a range of sophisticated terms to conduct an enquiry-based analysis. Such an approach seems to me well suited to the detective-like search for the Illuminati or the roots of ISIS. The limit of such an approach, of course, is that it is tied to the testing of truth claims.
Some primary school colleagues may wonder about the skills and knowledge required for such enquiry. However, in my experience it is primary, rather than secondary, colleagues that has huge expertise in circle time and associated dialogic forms of learning and, of course, also learning in groups. The range of suitable topics might change but the skills are very much applicable.
One point that must be made, however, is that the short-sighted cuts in teacher training for Religious Studies was very poorly thought through. For one thing, British Religious Education is world leading. Undermining an area where we both lead and inspire the world seems in the name of improving education seems farcical. Also, a lot of teacher training has been devolved to schools. However, report upon report has shown that the quality of Religious Education in schools can be extremely variable, in large part due to the high numbers of non-specialists required to teach it. The policy needs to be reversed.
Returning to our survey of pedagogical methods, another approach that I like is conceptual enquiry. This enables Religious Education to proceed through systematic study of concepts, for example, of symbolism in European cave paintings and San art. Once again, students develop their vocabulary by analysing content in contexts. A weakness, of course, is that this model does not lend itself to a systematic study of religion.
Never mind. Increasing the level of challenge and depth in Religious Education examinations did not have to take the route of a study of doctrine and text; it could study religion per se through an enquiry-led approach that draws on critical thinking on the one hand, and cultural studies on the other. If, as I fear, the new specifications will take this narrow route, it is open to examination boards to offer Philosophy or Cultural Studies GCSE and A level papers as alternative routes to the study of religion broadly, and of course in my sense properly, defined. I have no issue with Theology, but it is only one route among many in the study of religion.
Turning back to school, I have been responsible for part or whole of SMSC, the spiritual, moral, social and cultural dimension, of school life from the beginning of my career. I was, therefore, disappointed that many in the Religious Education elite do not share my view about its absolute importance and about the unique role that Religious Education can play in its provision. Once again, doctrinal RE narrows the field. The role of SMSC in protecting Religious Education in schools and colleges is massively under-estimated by those who have little current experience of those environments but it is undoubtedly true that it is difficult to see a student can receive full support for SMSC, for example, in Further Education, without some measure of Religious Education. The issue becomes even more pressing with the current concern with British values and the Prevent strategy. The greatest challenge to, for example, Islamic radicalization would emerge from full and frank discussion of its origins and motives. If British values are expressed in Mill’s ‘On Liberty’ it seems bizarre the strategy imposed seems to want to preclude those values, suggesting in its place, repetitive denunciation.
In some part, my concern with SMSC stems from being a member of a faith community, serving on the committee of a local gurdwara. As a Sikh it is the spiritual and cultural areas of life that inform moral and social interactions; doctrine might even appear as trivial, as speculative, exclusive and authoritarian to Guru Nanak’s emphasis on lived experience, inclusivism and fellowship.
In addition, it may also stem from my forays into international inter-faith activity where, for example, I was on the board of the World Congress of Faiths. Having spoken to agreeable members of different faith communities, it dawned on me that it was the less agreeable members that we needed to, but could not reach, drawing me to focus on interfaith activity rather than dialogue as a way forward. At the Rio+10 environmental summit in Johannesburg, South Africa I introduced a langar in the Sacred Space of the summit that, apart from feeding the participants, was the base for food and other equipment runs to people in the Alexandra township. Local Sufi Muslim groups and Churches supported us in this work. It strikes me that Religious Education can be a base for active citizenship, whether at the local level or, through technologies such as video conferencing, internationally. While I believe that such endeavors should be credited in the examinations system it will not happen at this moment in time when it seems that even the active citizenship element of the Citizenship GCSE has been replaced with a test of factual knowledge, as if propositional ‘know that’ knowledge was the only type of knowledge and ability knowledge, ‘know how’, was not knowledge at all. Yet this turn in the examinations system are emerging at a time when industry bemoans the lack of ‘soft skills’ in employees.
Finally, my concern may have emerged from my experience as a SACRE member, first as part of the teacher’s group and more recently as a member of the faith group. Such local bodies provide greater relevance, broader networks of a range of informed and active individuals, as well as possibilities of informal as well as formal support and advice than more distant bodies. They are able to respond to local concerns and involve the wide network of people who have a stake in Religious Education and who are willing, often for free, to contribute to it in schools and colleges. Those who are hostile to localism, local democracy, community involvement; in a word, hostile to civil society, offer a threat to British values as they seek to impose and rush things through, without considering the implications. They will find it frustrating that so many people need to be persuaded. However, if, like me, you believe that dialogue is at the heart of life — dialogue with being, with self, with others, dialogue reinforced through the dull compulsions of social life — you will welcome the opportunity to be, and to engage, with fellow travellers. Thank you for your time.