College Digitized and Privatized

Slice the "a" from 'audacity" and you have Udacity, the leading purveyor of for-profit, on-line college. Udacity is the dean of digitizing, the maharajah of MOOCkery. In them, we can see everything in the digitally privatized future face of higher ed that some folks love and other folks find appalling.

Born in 1967, Sebastian Thrun came from Germany and found a place as a Stanford professor and Google VP. He was the founder of Google X, the big geeky exploratory part of Google, and he has had a hand in everything from hoverboards to self-driving cars.

Thrun is also one of the co-parents of Udacity, an on-line digitized set of courses that can earn you, among other things, nanodegrees, which appear to be the same basic idea as micro-credentials, but which sound slightly more academically legit. Udacity started out as a few computer courses offered for free by Stanford, and its nanodegree offerings still seem primarily tech oriented, with everything from software debugging to interactive rendering to software development to web design to inscrutable-to-laypeople programs like full stack web developer. Plus a couple of Google-specific programs. And currently their most hugely popular offering is one "taught" by Thrun himself-- Self-Driving Car Engineer. SDCE has pulled huge numbers of interested customers students for the course that will cost $2,400 for three twelve-week terms.

The usefulness, effectiveness, and educational validity of Massively Open On-line Courses has been debated from Day One. Late in 2012 a short cyber-debate erupted between Clay Shirky and Aaron Bady. Shirky is a tech writer thinky guy, while Bady is a blogging Cinderella story who rose to prominence because he had some good thoughts, written well, about wikileaks. Their conversation begins here, with Shirky claiming that MOOCs are like recorded music. Bady replied here in Inside Higher Education.

Some of his criticism will seem familiar:

Udacity’s primary obligation is to its investors. That reality will always push it to squeeze as much profit out of its activities as it can. This may make Udacity better at educating, but it also may not; the job of a for-profit entity is not to educate, but to profit, and it will. 

But this next point is new and  interesting, and well worth resurrecting from almost four years ago:

The key difference between academics and venture capitalists, in fact, is not closed versus open but evidence versus speculation. The thing about academics is that they require evidence of success before declaring victory, while venture capitalists can afford to gamble on the odds. While Shirky can see the future revolutionizing in front of us, he is thinking like a venture capitalist when he does, betting on optimism because he can afford to lose. He doesn’t know that he’s right; he just knows that he might not be wrong.

Bady also clearly sees how these on-line institutions like Udacity as pale imitations of real education-- and are meant to be.

The giveaway is when Shirky uses the phrase "non-elite institutions": for Shirky, there are elite institutions for elite students and there are non-elites for everyone else. The elite institutions will remain the same. No one will ever choose Udacity over Harvard or U.Va., and while elite institutions like MIT, Stanford, Princeton, and my own University of California are leaping into the online education world head first, anyone who thinks these online brands will ever compete with "the real thing" will be exactly the kind of sucker who would fork over full price for a watered-down product.

And he lands on this important question:

Why have we stopped aspiring to provide the real thing for everyone? That’s the interesting question, I think, but if we begin from the distinction between "elite" and "non-elite" institutions, it becomes easy to take for granted that "non-elite students" receiving cheap education is something other than giving up. It is important to note that when online education boosters talk about "access," they explicitly do not mean access to "education of the best sort"; they mean that because an institution like Udacity provides teaching for free, you can’t complain about its mediocrity. It’s not an elite institution, and it’s not for elite students. It just needs to be cheap.

Maruia Bustillos, following up on this conversation in The Awl, asked a more pointed version of the same question.

Okay, fine, but let’s get this straight: public money has been mercilessly hacked from California’s education budget for decades, so now we are to give public money, taxpayer money, to private, for-profit companies to take up the slack? Because that is exactly what is happening. Wouldn’t it make more sense to just fund education to the levels we had back when it was working?

Bustillos followed up with Bady, who offered this elaboration on the point:

If you start by not letting education be anything more than what it’s possible to deliver via YouTube — and MOOCs are a little more complicated than that, but essentially all the arguments for the cheapness of MOOCs are based on that model, that it’s something you can digitize and then distribute very cheaply — then if that’s all you want, if you’re satisfied with that, then yeah, MOOCs are great, because they’re cheap. But you’ve already given up on almost everything that the entire academic enterprise has been creating for centuries. So it’s that framing of the conversation, much more than Shirky’s particular argument, that drives me up the wall. 

Emphasis mine. Digitizing education requires that we reduce education to something that will fit in those digits. And aiming it at "non-elites" or "lessers" or "those people" is a cheat because it sets the bar at "well, anything that's better than nothing is an improvement of what Those People were going to get."

In other words, we look at some poor folks who get barely one meal a day and say, "Well, let's get them all a single piece of cold, day-old pizza. Granted, it's a sad shadow of actual decent healthful food, but it's better than nothing." Why are we doing that instead of asking why we can't arrange for those folks to eat as well as we do? Why do we not examine the damning charge implicit in our assumption-- that we are not willing to make sure Those People get something as good as what we've got, that we know in our hearts that we will never willingly pay the cost of getting Those People what the more fortunate among us can take for granted.

Programs like Udacity are cold, dry pizza instead of full, rich healthful education. But they let us off the hook for the problems of Those People. 

Bill Gates Wants Your Tax Dollars

On his blog yesterday, Bill Gates made his pitch to get more our of our tax dollars.

Gates notes that the Presidential campaign hasn't touched much on innovations (which I guess is true if you don't count innovative ways to repackage reality).  Invoking the 1961 moon-shot declaration of John F. Kennedy, Gates wants to make a case for four areas in which the government can spur innovation. With money.

He tries to frame this as a centrist idea by creating an imaginary extreme on one end of the debate:

I’ve heard some people argue that life-changing innovations come exclusively from the private sector. But innovation starts with government support for the research labs and universities working on new insights that entrepreneurs can turn into companies that change the world. The public sector’s investments unlock the private sector’s ingenuity.   

If he means, as his essay suggests, that some people argue that the private sector does these things while refusing any dirty government money, well, I haven't heard anybody argue that. Have you heard, for instance, of any charter schools that have insisted on finding their own funding and have refused any solitary cent of government support? No, me neither.

Gates is arguing for the same old, same old-- private corporations getting their hands on that sweet, sweet pile of tax dollars to fund their enterprise. Gates is arguing that we need to elect leaders who see that the government can make progress on the issues that face us by unlocking innovation with a big fat key made out of money. He cites the space race as one of the great public-private partnerships, but what he doesn't discuss is the manner of the partnership and the rules by which it operated. It's almost as if he thinks that just throwing money at private companies will automatically fix the problems of our world.

Well, four problems of our world.

Provide cheap, clean energy to everyone (without harming the environment).

It's a noble thought, but-- well, is the suggestion here that somehow the big energy companies don't have any money for R&D? Because I'm thinking that the big energy companies are actually wealthier than many nations.

Develop a vaccine for HIV and cure neurodegenerative diseases

And

 Protect the world from future health epidemics

Again, I applaud these goals. But medicine is a great example of how public-private partnerships have come off the rails, as witnessed by medicines like the epi-pen, developed with the support of public tax dollars, and yet manipulated by private interests for maximum private profit. The world of medicine already has a very productive public-private partnership-- the private corporations reap profits and the government keeps rules in place that protect those profits, even when the profits are indefensible and involve drugs that the public already paid to develop.

Give every student and teacher new tools so all students get a world-class education

Well, you knew this was here. Gates calls for "personalized education" with every child hooked up to a computer that will dispense and education. Oh, and teachers can just upload videos of themselves, because technology is never boring and students love to watch videos of teachers. Anyway, the private sector has started work on these things, but it would be great if the feds would kick in some R&D costs, because companies like Microsoft don't really have money for R&D either. Of course, what Gates really skips over here is that he's asking the government to fund a policy change, not a technological one. Gates is asking for funding to change the very nature of what school is and what it's supposed to do (train, in Gates world, rather than educate). Gates isn't just asking for federal help for private companies to create new tech; he's asking for federal cooperation as private companies set new national policy.

What is notably lacking?

You know what would help the government provide funding for all this private innovation? Tax dollars to hand out. You know who's gotten really good at not giving the government tax dollars? Private corporations.

For instance, Microsoft reportedly keeps almost 100 billion dollars in off-shore accounts, allowing it to avoid paying several billion dollars in taxes. They certainly aren't the only company doing this, so we can only imagine the amount of funding the government could provide if it had billions and billions more tax dollars with which to do such funding.

A good step toward that public-private partnership that Gates envisions would be for the private folks to do their part by helping fund the government so that it could unlock innovation with piles of money. Or they could acknowledge that they have held a bunch of money out of government reach and that money constitutes a federal tax rebate.

Mind you, I think public-private partnerships, properly maintained and managed, can be a great thing. But the whole business could start with an honest conversation. And if private companies want to be partners, they could start by acting like partners.

USED's Troubled Charter Love

"Honey, you have got to break up."

When a trusted member of your own family sits you down to tell you that you are in a bad relationship, it's only prudent to pay a little attention. And that is where John King's US Department of Education finds itself right now.

"Dude," says the USED's own office of the inspector general. "You have got to get this whole charter school thing under control. It is soaking you for money and you don't even know what the heck is going on."

The audit by USED's inspector general was meant to assess " the current and emerging risk that charter school relationships with charter management organizations (CMOs) and education management organizations pose to the Office of Elementary and Secondary Education (OESE), the Office of Special Education and Rehabilitative Services (OSERS), and the Office of Innovation and Improvement (OII) program objectives and evaluate the effectiveness of OESE, OSERS, and OII internal controls to mitigate the risk." The audit set out to look for internal controls-- any sorts of checks and balances and brakes on the USED-charter relationship. The findings were not good:

We determined that charter school relationships with CMOs posed a significant risk to Department program objectives.

You can read the whole sad jargon-soaked report if you like. The bottom line is that the audit found three major issues:

1) Insufficient controls between charters and charter management organizations, including (but not limited to) "conflict of interest, relate-party transactions and insufficient segregation of duties."  The lack of controls constitutes a risk for fraud, waste and abuse, a risk of losing accountability for federal funds, and a risk that the charter schools are ignoring and violating federal rules, requirements and programs.

2) Insufficient controls within the department, meaning that USED has no useful knowledge or oversight of what charters are up to

3) Insufficient monitoring procedures to allow the department to even know if something hinky is going on.

In even fewer words, the USED does not have rules in place to discourage, spot or stop charter fraud, waste or abuse. 

That is some hard tough love from a office within the education department.

Like many folks in a bad relationships, John King shows some awareness that maybe, somehow, something is wrong. Just this week John King suggested that Michigan wasn't exactly doing a bang-up job with its approach to closing schools and opening charters.

“I worry a lot about the charter sector in Michigan, which has very uneven performance,” King said. “There are a lot of schools that are doing poorly and charter authorizers do not seem to be taking the necessary actions to either improve performance or close those underperforming charters.”

Of course, the fact that King is traveling to Detroit in hopes of asking questions and finding out what's going on might actually help make the inspector general's point-- that the department has no controls in place for keeping tabs on how federal money is being spent and whether or not charters are actually doing anything useful. Though I suppose in the case of Detroit the recently-filed federal civil rights lawsuit about the horrifyingly bad state of affairs in Detroit might have clued him in. Or he could just read the Detroit Free Press for accounts of charter shenanigans.

And yet, like many folks in bad relationships, John King just can't quit charters. Also in recent news, we have the USED handing over $245 million to charter operators.

The lucky winners include Louisiana, where millions upon millions of tax dollars have vanished into the New Orleans charter swamp with no clear accounting for where they went. California is up for a $50 million grant, even though a 2015 study showed one in five charters closing, and a recent ACLU study shows many charters illegally restricting admissions. I suppose it's good that they did not--again-- shovel out some federal money to Ohio charters in the face of reports of widespread fraud and misbehavior. But at the same time, the new stack of money contains a proposed almost-seven million dollars to expand charters in Washington State-- where the charter school law has been declared unconstitutional. What exactly will the seven mill be spent on? Lobbying Olympia for a more charter-friendly-- and legal-- law?

So to recap-- the US Department of Education's own inspector general is telling them that they are in a bad, unsafe, unprotected relationship with the charter sector, that they have insufficient measures to watch for how tax dollars are spent, and they're going to hand over another quarter of a billion dollars anyway.

This, mind you, is the same federal department that has been intent on micro-managing every public school system in the country, and whose favorite funding approach has been to make states and districts fight for money by competing to show excellence and accountability in every program. And yet somehow, this same department ends up in some version of this conversation:

"You cannot hand over your paycheck to Chris McCharter again. You just can't."

"But Chris is so cute, and I'm soooo in love."

"Chris could be spending your money on hookers and drugs. It's happened before and you don't even know."

"I don't care what you say. I'm in lurv!"

It's a sad story, and it makes me long for a different story, a story from an alternate universe where the USED wakes up, stops enabling the Bad Charter Sector that it will never really reform, and falls in love with Public Education instead. Now that would be a story.

The Facts Problem

We've had much discussion about living in a post-fact society, but I'm not sure we really appreciate just how much trouble the whole business of "facts" is in.

I don't mean the obvious public signs, like a national Vice-Presidential candidate who simply lies his way through a nationally broadcast debate. I'm not talking about how many of us keep our head buried in the internet bucket, listening to nothing but the echoes of our own voices.

I think our problem is deeper than that.

We've seen, for instance, something now called the replication crisis, the growing discovery that many landmark (and not-so-landmark) studies are simply one-offs, research completed exactly one time and attempts to replicate the results have either not been made, or have been made and turned out to be unsuccessful. Keep digging and you find that many "facts" about what constitutes "normal" for human beings are just plain non-factual.

The institutions that are traditionally the center of fact-discovery, or the kind of research that lets us Know New Things are in trouble, beset by everything from financial to ideological problems. Billionaires like the Koch brothers now hire professors to present the preferred set of "facts" to students. With tenure a thing of the past, professors and scholars will feel more pressure to avoid coming up with "facts" that might make anyone uncomfortable. And the pressure on colleges and universities is to replace coursework with micro-credentials, with simple competency-based tasks which can by their very nature only be defined in terms of what we already "know." You can't create a competency-based performance task built around the creation or discovery of new knowledge. You can only recycle.

At the same time, we are trying to build facts about things we cannot know. We cannot know what is going on in another person's head, in their thoughts, their feelings-- but education reformsters want to quantify that and attach a number to it so that we can kick it around as if it is a fact. Every day brings one more article that tries to bandy about facts about something for which no facts can be generated. Here's just one example from Education Next-- an article trying to consider the facts of what disciplinary techniques produce good results, as if there's a way to know the connection between how an eight-year-old is scolded for punching a classmate and whether or not that child thirty years later will be a good, decent, responsible adult. In education we want to know so many things that cannot be known, and so we insist on making up "facts" as proxies, numbers that we can claim correspond to actual facts. We talk about "student achievement" as if the numbers attached to the idea are facts, when they are just test scores from a single badly-written, narrowly-focused standardized test (perhaps fed through an unproven and unreliable equation).

Meanwhile, our own government has defined down what constitutes a fact. The definition of "evidence" used by the feds and enshrined, among other places, in the Every Student Succeeds Act includes demonstrating a rationale-- in other words, any half-baked argument I've ever made on this blog can be counted as "evidence." The last federal policy paper I looked at said that "research-based" includes any "conclusions or conjectures" from experts in the field, so I guess "facts" stop just short of wild-assed guesses, but not by much. And really-- if conjectures and rationales qualify as research and evidence, then how hard is it to be an "expert" in a field, particularly a field like education where we swim in an ocean of facts that are not actually facts.

Look, education has always been short on facts. Experimenting on children is Bad, so we've mostly held back on that. And studies conducted on a group of sophomores at one particular university aren't exactly broadly helpful.

But we live increasingly in a fact-starved world, a world in which facts are not only beaten and thrown down the stairs until they look like a ball of silly putty run through a blender, but we aren't even all that interested in looking for facts in the first place. And because we are a People of Irony, the fewer facts we use, the more we insist we are data-driven and evidence-based.

Hey, I'm a good old-fashioned "truth is more important than facts" any day. But it's really hard to get to the truth when your facts are not facts, and we are increasingly paying a price as a society for swimming in a giant vat of bovine fecal matter and pretending we're beating Ryan Loche (who may be an ass, but he's a fast ass) in an Olympic pool.

The scariest thing is not that we are ignorant of what the facts are. The scariest thing is that many of us don't even know what a fact is.

NEA's Concern Trolling

The NEA is concerned about bullying.

Specifically, they are concerned about the Trump Effect, which is one more name for one of the plumes of toxic smoke curling up from the dumpster fire that is Herr Donald's Presidential campaign.

There is reason for concern. Herr Donald's campaign has freed many folks from the restraint of what we could call "political correctness" or "general decent treatment of other human beings," and nothing bad ever gets loose in the general population that does not also breathe its toxic breath into the atmosphere of schools.

Anecdotes abound. The high school students who cheered "Build a wall" at their mainly-hispanic opponents. The endless supply of stories about children who are worried that the next President might deport them. There's absolutely no question that Trump's campaign has loosed some slouching beast into the political sphere, and that in turn has dropped a big bucket of ugly into schools across the country.

It's a topic worth discussing. Just not like this.

Instead of addressing the issue of bullying and the effects of our bad political discourse on the tiny humans of our nation, NEA has grabbed this issue and ground it up as campaign fodder.

A buttload of money will be spent to make ad buys in many, but not all, states, with a focus on swing states and states considered critical for the Presidential election. And they will, apparently, focus strictly on Herr Donald, concern trolling about how he poses a threat to our nation's youths by amplifying racism and intolerance and just general bullying.

These are the times when I kind of hate my union. This is transparently political, and really dangerously close to using children (and bullied children, at that) as props for political advantage.

Is bullying a tremendous issue that should be addressed regularly and forcefully? Absolutely. Is Donald Trump a terrible excuse for a Presidential candidate? Without a doubt.

But this PR push is not what happens when a bunch of people sit in a room and say, "Bullying is a tremendous issue for our students. What message could we put out that would help push back against it?"  No, this is the kind of push that happens when union leadership says, "What's a message we can put out there for the Clinton campaign that looks somewhat connected to our mission as teachers?"

Yes, I'm probably still a bit cranky about the general shafting that Bernie Sanders got from the Clinton camp. And, yes, I've about had it with my union selecting and promoting candidates who promptly stab us in the back. But I would also like to not have to try to make excuses for my union when civilians see actions that are clearly based on political calculus and not on educational concerns. This is why union activity can be dismissed as simply political leveraging. This is also why the same young teachers who see Clinton as more of the same-old, same-old are inclined to reach the same conclusion about the NEA.

I know that politics matter, and that politics and politicians set any of the rules that govern how my life in the classroom goes. I don't think I'm all that naive. In fact, I suspect I'm less naive than those who think that this campaign will be seen as anything but what it is. I suspect I'm also less naive than the people who think this campaign will give people a lower opinion of Herr Donald, or a higher opinion of teachers and their unions.

The Choices Charters Hate

One of the evergreen arguments in favor of modern charters is that they will be laboratories of innovation. Freed from the constraints of the public school system, charters will whip up brand new educational approaches, pedagogical discoveries that somehow nobody has ever whipped up before. Once they have freed the edu-genii, they will then unleash these cool new ideas on the whole education world, and all schools will work better because the charters were allowed to figure out brilliant new techniques that the public schools could not.

That's how it's sold. But that's not how it works.

First, charters have displayed no special ability to think of brand new educational ideas that nobody has ever thought of before. Longer day, longer year, only teach the kids that are easy to teach-- none of these are new ideas. Pay teachers less and give them no say in how the school is run-- also not new ideas, but also not particularly good ones, either.

But even if charters are whipping up new edu-concepts, that doesn't mean they want to share. The modern charter is born of corporate culture, and one basic principle of corporate culture is that Ford does not send its best ideas over to Chrysler management.

No, in the corporate world many contracts come with strict non-competition clauses. So it should be no surprise to find the same thing going on in the charter world. In fact, it should be no surprise to discover that charters want to straightjacket their teachers as much as possible.

Meet Mike Kowalski.

Mike Kowalski was a teacher for the Mystic Valley Regional Charter School. Like most charters, MVRCS has no union and hires teachers for just a year at a time ("at will" meaning "at the will of the bosses"). They also offer lousy wages, and their teachers have no real power or say in the school. So how do they keep teachers from jumping ship at the first available opportunity to get a real job?

Easy. They require teachers make a contractual commitment in April for the following fall. And if the teachers take another job, the school sues them for breach of contract.

Kowalski signed his contract in April, was offered a job weeks later. His replacement was quickly hired and Kowalski actually trained him.

And the school still demanded that Kowalski pay them over $6,000.

Kowalski ended up talking to a Massachusetts Teachers Association lawyer, who found even more astonishing contents in the MVRCS-- a non-competition clause that forbid Mystic Valley teachers from working for any of the sending districts. In other words, this laboratory of innovation was specifically forbidding its employees from sharing anything they discovered or developed. The Massachusetts notion that charters are meant to "stimulate the development of innovative programs within schools" is not only being ignored, but is being expressly thwarted, specifically forbidden.

The non-compete clause makes perfect sense if you think that a charter school is a private business run on proprietary secrets. This is one more reason that these modern charters are in no way, shape or form public schools.

This also highlights the hypocrisy behind the charter choice arguments. Choice is great-- when it's the choice they like. The free market is great-- as long as it's serving them. But when it comes to staff, charters like Mystic Valley have taken steps to avoid any kind of market forces to come into play. Rather than compete for teachers by offering attractive employment terms, Mystic Valley tries to make sure that their teachers have no choice at all, to force them to stay by coercion and extortion.

In the corporate charter world, teachers should be easily-replaced widgets who get no choice in their working conditions, no choice in whether to stay or go, no choice in who they can talk to professionally.

Duncan Scolds Education Schools

When former Secretary of Education Arne Duncan isn't busy joining another board of some education-flavored enterprise (his latest is Revolution Foods, an over-hyped cafeteria supply company), he still finds time to offer uninformed opinions about education itself.

Pay me to have an opinion about school lunch? Retirement is awesome.

Take for instance his open letter today at Brookings, in which Duncan castigates the nation's collegiate teacher preparation programs.

He opens with his trademark blame-disguised-as-praise:

Schools of education are providing one of the most important services in America today, training our future teachers who will prepare our children to succeed in work and in life. No other responsibility is more directly linked to our future.

Really? Economic policy, business growth, policies addressing poverty, maintenance of infrastructure, global diplomacy-- nothing at all more directly influences the future of our nation than how well colleges prepare future teachers?  Okay then. Let's address the Most Critical Issue Facing Our Nation with a look at the hard facts.

Nah. On second thought, says Arne, let's just pull out a report from the National Council on Teacher Quality, a group devoted to proving that college ed programs stink, and proving it by using the laziest research methods ever. In fact, Duncan goes back to a NCTQ report from November of 2014, the delightful "Easy A" report. I've already discussed this as the most rigor-free half-baked research to ever be taken seriously. Research so lazy that it "evaluated" non-existent programs. Research so lazy that it literally consisted of reading commencement programs and course catalogs.

Duncan also cites the Deans for Impact, a group that includes Mayme Hostetter, a "dean" of the Relay Graduate [sic] School [sic] of Education [sic], the group created by charter operators as a way to grow their own "teachers" without having to actually do any of the real work. Relay was just rejected by the state of Pennsylvania, based on their lack of pretty much all characteristic features of an actual graduate school of education like qualified education professors and (no kidding) a library of actual education resources.

Duncan also shares the shocking news that he has talked to many teachers who did not feel ready to teach on Day One. Here's a quick pro tip-- if you feel absolutely ready to teach on Day One-- any Day One, including Day One of your thirtieth year-- you do not understand the situation and you are probably not safe to let loose in a classroom.

Nevertheless, I will give Duncan some slack here. I have been pretty critical of some teacher prep programs myself, and it is true that there is room for improvement. That's the education biz-- there is always room for improvement. But first you have to understand what needs to improve and how teaching actually works, and after all these years, there's little evidence that Duncan gets it.

As usual with a Duncan missive on education, there is grinding cognitive dissonance folded in with the soaring rhetoric. Duncan wants education programs to know that there is no room for lowering expectations, that lowering expectations does a disservice to teaching candidates, students, and presumably, given his opening, the fate of civilization as we know it.

He wants to see teachers held to high standards, "like engineering, business and medical students," which I suppose is his special way of saying that teachers are super-important, but they all suck.

We've heard versions of this from Duncan before, and as always I am waiting for the part of the message that would logically follow.

I am waiting for the part where Duncan condemns Teach for America for its super-short teacher training program. I am waiting for the part where Duncan condemns states that now allow anybody with any sort of degree to work in a classroom. I am waiting for the part where he condemns states and school districts try to fight the teacher shortage by lowering the job requirements to "stays upright, mostly."

I am waiting, of course, in vain. Citizen Duncan, like Secretary Duncan, reserves his scolding for the traditional public school system and the people who spend their lives working there. The shadow education system, the parallel system set up in the land of free market forces and private profit-- that system remains above reproach, immune to criticism, the recipients of no public letters except those filled with praise.