Mr Reichenbach, when is a child considered to be privileged in terms of school?
Parents’ socio-economic status plays a major role; children of parents with a high level of education enjoy many advantages. You are also at an advantage if you get on well with your teacher or have particular talents. It is also crucial that people believe in you, show you things and explain things to you – whether they are your own parents or your teachers.
Consequently, there are many ways in which one can be privileged. So the number of privileged children in a class would have to be very large.
That depends very much on the catchment area of the school in question. There are classes where all 20 pupils come from the same background; Zürichberg is likely to be one such place. At schools in Zurich North, the figure is much lower. And current educational thinking primarily benefits the privileged.
School is a compulsory institution. Most of what we learn, we learn because we have to.
What do you mean?
Educational approaches that place a strong emphasis on openness, personal responsibility and self-directed learning work well for high-achieving and motivated pupils.
The ability to organise or manage one's own learning is enshrined in Curriculum 21. In practice, this might mean, for example, that children choose their own seats in the classroom in the morning, freely decide what to start with, and work in a self-organised manner—and, ideally, with intrinsic motivation—in line with their weekly timetables…
… and the teacher acts as a coach, working in the background and stepping in to provide guidance only when the child needs help.
And is that a bad thing?
I am not opposed to these ideas per se, but I would view them with a critical eye. Intrinsic motivation, however welcome it may be, is at the same time a huge myth. School is a compulsory institution. Most of what we learn, we learn because we have to. But it is part of contemporary educational thinking that it is always the child's inner self that should be decisive, rather than external pressure or the authority of the teacher and the culture they represent. I find that suspicious. Why do we regard guidelines as so bad? Why do we act as if everything in school must come from within?
Let us know.
The British sociologist Basil Bernstein once spoke of «educational panic». The older generation feels unsettled – ethically, politically and religiously. We are no longer sure what we want from young people. Now we pass the buck to the children and call it personal responsibility: «The world is your oyster, you just have to figure out what you want.» But that's not how it works. Because, to begin with, there is nothing within us. We are cultural beings; we have to make the world our own.
Children and young people need guidance, particularly those who struggle academically.
What does this mean in practical terms for schools?
According to New Zealand-based educational researcher John Hattie and his widely cited meta-study, it is not personal responsibility that leads to the greatest learning success, but rather close teacher support. The teacher plays a central role in this. They should guide and assess what has been learnt, as well as providing plenty of feedback and encouragement. Children and young people need guidance, particularly those who struggle academically.
What about the higher-achieving children?
High-achieving and motivated children can cope with any teaching method. Weaker pupils, however, need more support and must also be challenged.
In your latest book, *The Pedagogy of the Privileged*, you write that the educated classes wish to preserve these privileges primarily for their own children.
That's just how it is. Times have changed. Maintaining one's socio-economic status is far more difficult these days. Many people worry about social decline, and that their own children won't be as well off in the future.
About the book
This explains why so many parents are overly enthusiastic about school and constantly want to improve it – especially for their own children, at the expense of the common good. They all repeat these phrases like a mantra: «self-organised», «intrinsically motivated», «taking personal responsibility». But this only serves to exacerbate inequality within the education system.
My daughter attends a primary school where many teachers teach in this way, and the catchment area is very diverse. So there is a wide socio-economic divide. However, the teachers seem very motivated to me.
That's all well and good – and if that's the path they want to take, so be it. I'm not saying that this style of teaching is bad in itself, but it does require a lot of prior knowledge, and it needs children who are already fairly capable of organising and motivating themselves. In many places, however, the reality is quite different.
What do you mean by «demanding»?
Let's take the concept of inclusion. The idea that as many children as possible should learn together is certainly to be welcomed, but it leads to problems in practice within schools. How can you keep an eye on every single child in a class of 20 when more than half of them have special educational needs? A teacher simply cannot manage that on their own.
What I'm trying to say is this: the idea that there is a single «correct» teaching method that works for all children is misguided. Teaching is a practice in which you have to constantly reassess the situation. One child might need to be reined in, whilst another needs to be encouraged to open up – who needs what? That's what we call pedagogical judgement.
Let's take a look back at a primary school class in the 1980s. Twenty-four children sitting at their desks, looking straight ahead at the teacher. Chalk-and-talk teaching. Everyone learns the same thing at the same time. The teacher tailors their teaching to the class average. The weaker pupils are overwhelmed, the stronger ones are bored. Was that better?
No, it wasn't better, just different. High-achieving pupils tend to get bored more easily in every class and type of school than those who struggle academically. Yet the criticism of traditional classroom teaching is not convincing from an empirical point of view either. As if it were obvious that nothing is learnt in traditional classroom teaching, whereas a great deal is always learnt in group or individualised teaching… That is yet another myth. There are many ways to teach well, not just one; and there are many ways to teach poorly or even badly. Some teachers excel in one teaching style and feel «at home» with it, whilst others excel in a different one.
I believe in homework, because it teaches you to keep trying your best.
What would you like to carry over from that time into the present day?
The blackboard. It is so important in an educational context because it displays everything and then «forgets» it all. This is because it has to be wiped clean as soon as it is covered in writing and drawings. For example, the teacher might draw a picture relating to the lesson topic on the blackboard the night before, and then open the blackboard's flaps during the lesson.
There was something theatrical about it, and the children intuitively sensed that the teacher had gone to the trouble the night before of creating this drawing especially for their class. Shortly afterwards, everything had to be «erased» again. The use of this teaching aid highlights the exclusivity of the educational relationship, the care it involves, and its sense of time. The screens so prevalent today are hardly capable of achieving this to the same standard.
And what can definitely be thrown away?
I do not believe in a consistent and unambiguous progression in education. Much of what is no longer acceptable today has rightly been phased out, particularly the authoritarian behaviour of teachers. However, it is a cliché to believe that all teachers used to be authoritarian and are no longer so today.
In many places, homework is being phased out – partly on the grounds of equal opportunities. The aim is for more learning to take place at school, where less privileged pupils can be given support.
If pupils really were learning more at school, that would be a good thing, but overall I'm sceptical. I believe in homework.
Why?
Homework really is all about self-discipline – about having to keep putting in the effort and trying your best. It's not a big deal if there are a few things you don't enjoy doing. That's normal. The point is to accept something – in this case, homework – as part of your school life and to do it at home, even if you can't expect any help with it. In return, you feel good once you've done it. That's part of an education: sticking with something, having to make an effort.
It's not just about learning at school, after all.
Exactly. When you're learning a sport or a musical instrument, it's always about hard work and practice. First you have to understand and master the basics; only then do you begin to appreciate them. To do that, you need someone to demonstrate and show you how. That's the basic model: watch and learn.
Nowadays, this guidance is supposed to take place «at eye level with the child». Why do you criticise this term?
Because he is not sincere. The German rhetorician Josef Kopperschmidt put it aptly: «Those who are compelled to obey cannot consent.» One can only consent if one is equally free. Yet adults and children are not equal. Strangely enough, we find it difficult today to acknowledge this asymmetry.
Knowing something by heart helps me make connections with other material. It makes me a more well-rounded person. That's enriching.
A teacher once said to me: «It's not the children who have to adapt to us, but us who have to adapt to the children.»
That is the same slogan as «You have to meet the child where they are». Yet those new to the world must always adapt. And they must adopt the prevailing models, the language, the grammar. The culture must be adopted. That is what we call education: the subjective appropriation of objective culture.
Is that why so many teachers leave the profession after just a few years on the job? Because it's simply not feasible?
I don't think that's the reason. The workload has generally increased, whilst respect for teachers’ authority has declined – particularly on the part of parents. The more education-focused the parents are, the less they respect the teacher's pedagogical skills. It's a problem of recognition. Thirty or forty years ago, there were still plenty of jokes about teachers. Today, nobody makes jokes anymore; nowadays, people just feel sorry for teachers. But I'll say it again: you can't keep reinventing learning.
How does learning actually work?
We learn by taking things on board from others – those we trust. How do you know that? Mum said so. That isn't knowledge yet. What Mum said might just be an opinion. And at first, we accept that opinion as if it were gospel. Later on, we can form our own view of it. Yes, my mum always said that, but it was just her opinion and I now know that it isn't necessarily true. That's what I'd call education: being able to form your own view of what you've learnt.
The brain is just like a muscle: use it or lose it. You lose your ability to think critically. That should give us cause for concern.
So is the essence of learning about imitation and emulation?
Yes, the most important thing when it comes to learning is other people. They show us something, or can do something, that I'd like to be able to do too. The cultural significance of something also plays a part. In the US, children have incredible energy and stamina when it comes to learning baseball. Although it is very difficult to hit the ball with a bat, and experiences of self-efficacy are practically non-existent at the start, they stick with it – because they have understood from an early age just how important the sport is in their culture. In Switzerland, a child wouldn't be motivated to do that; it might work with Hornussen – but certainly with tennis, because almost everyone knows Roger Federer.
You are a strong advocate of practising and memorising. Yet much of what you learn at school is forgotten almost immediately. At least, that is a common criticism.
Forgetting is part of education. A French Minister of Education once said: «Education is what remains once you have forgotten everything you learnt at school.» Yet it is through acquiring knowledge and practising that I have become the person I am today.
Could you explain that?
Our knowledge and understanding define who we are. When I know something about architecture or botany and go for a walk, I see far more than others who know nothing about botany or architecture. Knowing something by heart creates links with other areas of knowledge. It makes me a more well-rounded person. That is enriching.
This is countered by the rapid development and use of artificial intelligence.
Oh yes. And the use of AI will only widen the gap between the privileged and the underprivileged. If you don't have access to «traditional» education and think you can simply outsource things, your mental faculties will atrophy. The brain is like a muscle: use it or lose it. You lose your ability to think critically. That should give us cause for concern.
Learning is not, and never will be, digital. Digital media exist, and you can use them.
What will happen next?
Nobody knows. We're only just learning how to use these tools. But don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against the occasional use of digital media in the classroom. I just take issue with the idea that so-called «digital learning» is something wonderful and new. I'm sceptical about that for purely semantic reasons. Learning is not, and never has been, digital. There are digital media, and they can be used. There are now good studies that show where these are beneficial and where they are of no use at all.
For example?
When it comes to searching for information, digital media are superior to analogue media. However, when it comes to gaining a deeper understanding, the printed book comes out on top.
You grew up in Gstaad, Bern. Your mother was a ski instructor and your father drove minibuses and vans. Despite this, you went on to study and became a professor.
There were three of us sons, and our parents didn't really take much interest in our schoolwork. That doesn't mean they didn't care about us, though. I was very lucky and usually seized opportunities on the spur of the moment whenever something new came along. I doubt that this approach would still be possible today.
They started out as teachers.
Which turned out to be the right decision. It meant I was able to fund my subsequent studies in philosophy and psychology myself. And I knew that, come what may, I could always go into teaching. That gave me a real sense of freedom. As did the fact that my parents had absolutely no expectations regarding my educational path.
You have four children of your own, who are now grown-up. What's it like for you?
It probably wasn't always easy for my three sons and my daughter to have a father who is a professor. I had it easier in that respect. I didn't have to compare myself to a professor whilst I was at school and in training. I think it's almost inevitable for children to compare themselves to their parents.
What can parents do for their children when it comes to school?
What you shouldn't do is always rush to your child's defence when things aren't going well. This drives a wedge between your child and the school or teacher, which isn't a good thing. You have a dual responsibility and must protect both: not just your child, but the school as well. It is important that parents radiate confidence. If your child hasn't understood something, you should actively offer to help: «Come on, let's have another look at that.» This keeps the focus entirely on the subject matter. Your child will feel: Mum is helping me; she wants me to learn this. That way, they feel they are in good hands.
As a teacher, you have to like children, but above all, you have to love what you teach.
And what makes a good teacher?
There are many ways to be a good teacher. The important thing is that the teacher enjoys what they do. People often say that, as a teacher, you have to love children. I don't agree with that. You do need to like children, certainly, but first and foremost you must love what you teach – German, maths, French – and believe it is important. A teacher must convey to the children: «Maths is a brilliant subject! And I want you to learn it. Every single one of you, because you can do it!» Then she takes the children seriously.
Convincing the pupils of this is certainly not always easy.
Yes, that's not it, but even the less able children need to hear: «You can learn it if you try hard. And if you try hard, I'll help you – time and time again.» The teacher is the most important factor in learning success. They belong at the heart of the lesson, not on the sidelines as a coach.
