From critical thinking to criticality and back again

ABSTRACT

This paper assesses the prospects of combining the distinctive strengths of the two major educational research programs of critical thinking and critical pedagogy—or, described more accurately, overcoming their shared limitations—in a new and superior educational objective called criticality. Several recent proposals explore the possibilities of engaging in bridge-building between these camps. The plan is that the distinctive strengths of these paradigms—the logical and epistemological precision of critical thinking together with the socio-political consciousness of critical pedagogy—could complement each other, while the associated adjustments to the overall picture could also help us to address their shared shortcomings. This gives us a new and more grounded educational goal of criticality, as suggested and developed independently by a growing number of thinkers. This article joins the ongoing conversation but provides a more counterreactionary tone by striving to vindicate the traditional mainstream conception of critical thinking. I maintain that despite their admirable ambitions, the various expressions of criticality do not succeed in combining the best parts of critical thinking and critical pedagogy, since on a deep metatheoretical level these two paradigms have irreconcilable core principles. First, I argue that the depiction of the failures of critical thinking used to motivate criticality is to a large degree a straw man: in actuality, the existing conceptualization of critical thinking can already do the desired extra socio-political educational work, so there really is no pressing need for the suggested augmentations. Second, the traditional worries of indoctrination, which have followed critical pedagogy since the inception of this educational movement, still remain unresolved within criticality. The only way to address this concern successfully is to lean on critical thinking as the core of our educational theory, bringing us right back to where we started.

Introduction

This paper assesses the prospects of combining the distinctive strengths of the two major educational research programs of critical thinking and critical pedagogy—or, described more accurately, overcoming their shared limitations—in a new and superior educational objective called criticality. In many respects critical thinking and critical pedagogy first appear as twins separated at birth (Burbules and Berk 1999). Besides their deceivingly close names, these two paradigms also seem to share broadly parallel aims. Namely, both traditions seek to nurture individuals’ intellectual skills and tendencies in a way that would then enable the person to critically examine the accepted truisms of the surrounding world and the implicit assumptions underpinning them. These general comparisons continue further, as both parties also agree why such a cast of mind is valuable: the capacity for critical thought empowers individuals to autonomous will formation which on the societal scale also leads to better functioning democratic communities. Despite these promising beginnings of rapport, the two educational movements have remained largely estranged on the academic arenas during the past five decades, both in a philosophical and a sociological sense.

This predicament has recently prompted several proposals, which explore the possibilities of engaging in bridge-building between these camps. The plan is that the distinctive strengths of these paradigms—the logical and epistemological precision of critical thinking together with the socio-political consciousness of critical pedagogy—could complement each other, while the associated adjustments to the overall picture could also help us to address their shared shortcomings. This gives us a new and more grounded educational goal of criticality, as suggested and developed independently by a growing number of thinkers (e.g. Burbules and Berk 1999; Davies 2015; Davies and Barnett 2015; Sibbett 2016; Shpeizer 2018). Needless to say, the specifics vary in these proposals, but these iterations of criticality seem to share the same driving sentiment where the educational objective of critical thinking is diagnosed with problems of social apathy, which is then to be remedied with the influences brought in from the tradition of critical pedagogy.

This article joins the ongoing conversation but provides a more counterreactionary tone by striving to vindicate the traditional mainstream conception of critical thinking. I maintain that despite their admirable ambitions, the various expressions of criticality do not succeed in combining the best parts of critical thinking and critical pedagogy, since on a deep metatheoretical level these two paradigms have irreconcilable core principles. Besides this main argument, my criticism of the criticality project has additional supporting moves. First, I argue that the depiction of the failures of critical thinking used to motivate criticality is to a large degree a straw man: in actuality, the existing conceptualization of critical thinking can already do the desired extra socio-political educational work, so there really is no pressing need for the suggested new augmentations. Second, the traditional worries of indoctrination, which have followed critical pedagogy since the inception of this educational movement, still remain unresolved within criticality. The only way to successfully address this concern is to lean on critical thinking as the core of our educational theory, bringing us right back to where we started.

The paper is structured as follows. The first section sets the scene by introducing the distinctive theses of critical thinking and critical pedagogy, traditionally conceived. The second section presents the new viewpoint of criticality, first sketched by Nicholas Burbules and Rupert Berk and then taken further by two more recent formulations of this theme, first one by Lisa Sibbett and a second by Martin Davies and Ronald Barnett. In the third section I discuss why it is difficult to bring the traditions of critical thinking and critical pedagogy into a constructive dialogue and give my central argument why ultimately both critical pedagogy and criticality must submit to critical thinking. In the fourth section I discuss the problem of indoctrination, and how critical thinking has the better chance of answering this challenge.

Critical thinking and critical pedagogy

The basic starting point for both critical thinking and critical pedagogy comes from the familiar modern educational ideal of linking autonomy, reason, and education together (Biesta 2006: 5–6). Our role as educators is to nurture the development of individuals’ independent self-determination and will formation by giving them the proper intellectual tools to do this themselves. In a broad sense, both critical thinking and critical pedagogy can agree that this is achieved through a frame of mind in which the individual learns to critically examine putative truths and their implicit assumptions. Although both parties can on the whole accept this rather general description of how a critical mind operates, they nevertheless on closer examination put emphasis on different things in this equation. I will start with the critical thinking version.¹

According to the mainstream view in scholarship, critical thinking consists of two mutually supportive and equally important components.² The first half is made up by all those intellectual skills and abilities that are needed to carry out evidence-based belief formation and decision-making. At the heart of this component are thus those standard rules of logic and argumentation theory that, when ignored, lead to formal and informal fallacies. However, critical thinking relies in equal measure on an epistemological eye to assess the credibility and weight of the putative reasons given to beliefs under consideration. Although the initial theorizing on critical thinking in the middle of the previous century focused heavily on mastering certain logical and epistemological skills (at the time the label ‘logical thinking’ could be used interchangeably with critical thinking), from the 1960s onwards philosophers began to emphasize that the full picture of critical thinking needs an additional second component, which is not focused as much on what a critical thinker can do, but on who she is as a person (Holma 2015).

This latter part includes various motivational factors that animate and encourage a critical thinker to use her abilities actively in their intended purpose. These motivational factors are routinely conceptualized in the literature as mental dispositions, that is, as phenomena akin to personality traits, which form behavioral patterns for an individual to behave in a normatively proper way in the service of truth (Siegel 1988). Thus, a critical thinker is not a sophist furthering her own agenda, or a defense attorney, who cherry-picks evidence to argue as convincingly as possible the case of her client. In addition to these dispositions, the other part of critical thinking is often described as containing moral and intellectual virtues: in Star Trek terms, an ideal critical thinker is not like the ice-cold logic machine embodied in the character of science officer Mr. Spock, but rather she should use her emotional intelligence in conversational settings and make charitable interpretations of the claims of her interlocutors. A critical thinker should be open-minded and capable of receiving criticism. Moreover, she should have the confidence to speak up when needed for the causes she believes in. In many ways, the function of these virtues of critical thinking blur the traditional distinctions between reason and emotion, which have been a part of the Western philosophical thinking ever since the writings of Plato and Aristotle. As Katariina Holma (2016) notes, critical thinking is not just an epistemological undertaking, but also unavoidably a moral activity.

Taken together, the two halves of this mainstream conceptualization of critical thinking correspond to the phenomenon that is known outside the educational contexts under the names of epistemic or evidential rationality (Stanovich 2011). For some scholars in the field, such as Harvey Siegel (2017), the phrase ‘critical thinking’ is simply the label we use to frame rationality in educational settings. The philosophical contents underpinning these labels are thus interchangeable.

Critical pedagogy, in turn, does not build upon a competing conceptual analysis of the constitutive elements of critical thinking (or rationality, for that matter). Instead, it adopts a wider perspective, where knowledge, facts, and norms—together with the means of making them meaningful in societies—are never understood as socially or politically neutral phenomena. Instead, they resonate with the interests of various societal interest groups. Aphoristically we can say that the familiar Baconian adage works also in reverse order: power is knowledge. Since power is not distributed evenly in society, this imbalance is reflected in the things that are valued as true and important. A particular statement may have been accepted as ‘true’ in our society, but this is not a guarantee that this judgment is impartial or that the public discussion on it should now end.³

Education—and its institutionalized forms—play a key role in the process whereby society renews itself by preparing future generations to find their roles in the social order. In this way, education helps to maintain the biased status quo. The way that education is designed and executed can help to further the interests of the hegemonic social groups, and disenfranchise marginalized groups from their social, economic, and political opportunities. Things are made worse by the empty promises of meritocracy and equal opportunities for social mobility, which are never truly fulfilled in the uneven playfield. To break such structural glass ceilings, education should aim to empower and emancipate our students, so that they can through the use of their critical consciousness⁴ seize their own destinies in a more open and equal society. Critique does not thus denote the capacity to assess individual arguments or statements through a logical or epistemological lens, but rather a wider awareness targeted at the social structures constituting society, power relations, and cultural role expectations. A critical education should aim to make these oppressive ideologies more transparent. Another characteristic part of the aims of critical pedagogy is the emphasis on action and activism as educational objectives: the ideal is that students contribute their own effort in turning the world into a better place—it is not simply important to recognize and understand unjust settings, but rather to have an internal fire to move from thoughts to transformative action (Blake and Masschelein 2003; Apple 2019).

Although critical thinking and critical pedagogy understand the nature and aims of critique differently, there seems to be a shared understanding of why this educational objective is important. Namely, both factions regard their educational objective as liberating the individual by expanding her sphere of potential thought and action—in Geert Biesta’s terms we could speak of ‘rational autonomy’ (Biesta 2006: 4). On the side of critical thinking, the contemporaneous thinker who has probably written most extensively on this matter is Siegel (1988, 1997, 2017). In Siegel’s view, we have, as educators, a Kantian responsibility to always treat our students as unique persons—and not just instrumentally as a means to an end. The best way to take this responsibility seriously is to use education to promote critical thinking and act in our own teaching in a way that models evidence-based belief formation to our students. Besides empowering individuals, fostering the development of critical attitude through education can benefit the society at large by furthering the ideals of democracy. Using their capacities for independent reflection, the citizenry can participate more actively and thoughtfully in the public deliberations, where the decisions affecting themselves are being made (Gutmann 1999).

There are also noticeable similarities on the level of pedagogy, as both critical thinking and critical pedagogy have campaigned in their own ways against teacher-centric and hierarchical pedagogical frameworks. Teaching should not be thought of as one-way transmission of ready-made bits of knowledge, which the students then memorize (as in the ‘banking model of education’, criticized by Paulo Freire; see Freire 1970). In its place we should adopt a more dialogical approach, such as the program of philosophy for children, developed within the critical thinking movement (Lipman 2003).

Despite these parallels in their general aspirations, the intellectual movements of critical thinking and critical pedagogy have remained largely disconnected in the field of philosophy of education without cross-references in their particular literatures. As Blake and Masschelein (2003: 43) note, there does not seem to have been genuine interest in trying to get to truly know the other party’s line of thinking, but simply the condescending attitude of: ‘We can make these same points better in our own way’.

The few rare exchanges, which occurred in the 1980s and 1990s, often had a dismissive tenor and were based—on both sides—on caricature-like straw men. It seems that the intent was often to crush the other side through arguments and rhetoric, rather than to facilitate understanding. Burbules and Berk write:

Certain authors within each tradition have seriously tried to engage the concerns of the other—although, interestingly, the purpose of such investigations has usually been to demonstrate that all the truly beneficial qualities of the other tradition can be reconciled with the best of one’s own, without any of the purported drawbacks... (Burbules and Berk 1999: 54)

The partial root for this lack of communication lies in the deep (meta)philosophical conflicts between these traditions (to which I return in the third section of my article), but a mix of cultural, sociological, and socio-psychological factors have also divided philosophers into different tribes. Critical thinking has been developed predominantly within the so-called analytic philosophy of education in the anglophone world.⁵ The modern discussion around the issue was inaugurated by the American pragmatist John Dewey’s (1910) ideas regarding ‘scientific thinking’, and it was subsequently developed primarily by researchers working in American philosophy departments (Ennis 1962, 1980; Scheffler 1973; Paul 1982; Siegel 1988, 1997, 2017; Lipman 2003). Critical pedagogy, by contrast, builds on the post-Marxian work of the Frankfurt school, which belongs to the family tree of continental philosophy. It has subsequently developed various localized forms of expression in Latin America (Freire 1970), Germany (Klafki 1976; Mollenhauer 1976), and North America (Giroux 1983a, 1983b; McLaren 1995; Apple 2019). In the end, the schools of critical thinking and critical pedagogy have their own ecological niches in the academic world: research programs, writing styles, publication avenues, conferences, societies, canonized classic texts, leading scholars, and so on (Blake and Masschelein 2003: 48).⁶ It is easy to exist within this bubble without crossing to the other side.

To repair these broken lines of communication certain writers have recently suggested various forms of philosophical bridge-building with the guiding idea that these paradigms could synergistically complement each other. The strong points of critical thinking are the logical rulebook overseeing consistent reasoning and the accompanying epistemological know-how regarding evidence-based belief formation. The side of critical pedagogy, in contrast, has adopted a wider approach than one centered on singular cases of reasoning or debates. Namely, their strength is in analyzing how social injustice restricts the freedom of individuals through structures of unequal power relations. When combined, these two traditions could have a lot to offer to each other, creating a comprehensive account of what it means to be critical. I now explore these suggestions in the next section.

Criticality as overcoming critical thinking and critical pedagogy

The beginnings of the scholarly interest in comparative analyses of critical thinking and critical pedagogy lie in Nicholas Burbules and Rupert Berk’s article ‘Critical Thinking and Critical Pedagogy: Relations, Differences, and Limits’ (1999). In their much-cited text, Burbules and Berk did not want to place these paradigms in a head-to-head race nor to build a straightforward ‘Hegelian’ synthesis of their best parts. Instead of such predictable approaches, they wanted to identify the shared weaknesses and limitations underpinning both traditions, and then overcome these flaws in the form of a new and improved approach, which they gave the informal name of criticality (for later accounts of their motivations, see Burbules 2016: 1; 2020: 372).

Contrasted with the familiar expressions of critical thinking and critical pedagogy, criticality maintains a more reserved and self-critical view at even its own most foundational core principles: Criticality does not claim to appraise things from the vantage point of an epistemological or political mountain, high above its surroundings, which would bestow it with some kind of authority over the objects of its glance. Instead, criticality as a quality means the ability to constantly reassess with an open mind the culturally and historically conditioned starting assumptions of our intellectual framework—criticality itself included. Besides this humble self-reflectivity, the criticality of Burbules and Berk as an educational phenomenon shifts its focus from the skills and mental traits of the individual to the broader social conditions and practices that make it possible for the critical attitude to emerge in the first place. What is central here is to understand how criticality flourishes in reciprocal conversations with our interlocutors, who can help us to detect our epistemic blind spots and self-serving biases. Generally, the will to engage in dialogue and the ability to listen to competing viewpoints without instinctive prejudices enrich our ‘doxastic diet’ by giving us a more diverse set of views for our appraisal, leading to more considered judgments. Criticality is not tantamount to endorsing radical epistemic relativism, but it nevertheless recognizes that our present understanding is not necessarily the universal truth—or the endpoint of philosophical theory-building on criticality. In sum Burbules and Berk (1999: 62) state the general orientation of their view: ‘Criticality is a practice, a mark of what we do, of who we are, and not only how we think’.

After Burbules and Berk’s initial work on the topic, criticality has been gaining ‘its own scholarly industry’, to quote Davies’ assessment (2015: 65). Numerous educational theorists have independently used this same label to describe their respective proposals, which are united by the will to transform the mainstream model of critical thinking with influences drawn from the world of critical pedagogy—thus creating an entirely new educational goal. While this growing trend in the usage of the name ‘criticality' does not indicate that these thinkers understand this phenomenon in the same way—or in any way share the same goals—it appears that there is now in the literature ‘a scholarly research program […] with diverse lines of influence and convergence’ (Burbules 2016: 2). Here I describe two such proposals—the first of which is by Lisa Sibbett and the second by Martin Davies and Ronald Barnett (which they have developed both jointly and separately).

Sibbett (2016) considers this topic primarily in the context of democratic citizenship education. In her estimate, the received pedagogical approach is reasoned deliberation in the form of classroom discussion, moderated by the teacher. The philosophical grounding of this pedagogy is provided by the framework of critical thinking, which, in Sibbett’s (2016: 2) view, has a ‘social accountability problem’. The issue is that the critical thinking approach is blind to social imbalances between different people that affect their chances of getting their voices heard in these discussions. Additionally, critical thinking does not activate students to correct the societal wrongs they might notice. Under such preconditions no amount of rational deliberation can be reasonable or serve as a means to mitigate these injustices. A more direct problem is that critical thinking can through its clever tricks of rationalization in fact end up legitimizing the existing power imbalances, such as the certain privileges inherent in our traditional Western liberal and individualistic world view, as these dogmas are not truly challenged in debates (p. 3). As a remedy Sibbett calls for a more inclusive pedagogical approach, which is oriented around a stronger emphasis on social justice. As they are traditionally understood, neither critical pedagogy nor critical thinking is in a good position to seize the dormant possibilities within democratic citizenship education to actually transform the social order for the better. This inability is caused by the unwillingness of these two approaches to admit their own limitations, Sibbett notes, echoing the earlier thoughts of Burbules and Berk. Therefore, we need a new way of looking at these things to tap into what citizenship competence could be. This alternative Sibbett names transformative criticality. Anchored in feelings of solidarity, it recognizes that sometimes in unjust situations emotional reactions can be legitimate responses to felt wrongs, instead of cold rational arguments (p. 4).

Another proposal is due to Davies and Barnett, who have developed it both in their joint writing and also separately (see Barnett 1997, 2015; Davies 2015; Davies and Barnett 2015). In their view, critical thinking and critical pedagogy can be stronger together than they are separately—especially in the arena of higher education, where the neoliberal policies are currently transforming traditional academic institutions into entrepreneur universities operating under the assumption that the main concern of education is to provide an adept workforce for labor markets and national economies. As a countermove, the students must be awakened to realize how they are being exploited as parts in this politicized educational system. In this purpose critical thinking could be of some help, but in its present form, it is much too narrow-mindedly centered on logic and is politically passivating. But if the two traditional halves of critical thinking—skills and dispositions—were to be supplemented with a third component, drawing influence from critical pedagogy, this resulting new criticality⁷ could unlock new educational possibilities to widen our thinking. Above anything else, this new socio-cultural component could motivate critical thinkers to act in the name of good things and criticize ‘social norms’. This dimension is lacking entirely in the traditional conceptualization of critical thinking, which is also evident in the rather limited higher education pedagogy shown by the new entrepreneur universities. A foundational problem for these traditional accounts of critical thinking is that a critical thinker could end up with the right conclusions in her belief formation yet do nothing. Davies (2015: 65) expresses this aphoristically: ‘While skills and dispositions are crucial for critical thinking, they are not sufficient unless action is added. To adapt a famous line from Kant: critical thinking without skills is empty; criticality without action is blind’. By understanding itself through criticality, higher education could commit to this action-oriented ‘higher form’ of critical thinking.⁸

In the next section I identify a foundational obstacle curbing any attempt to bring critical thinking and critical pedagogy into a conversation. While this issue has been recognized in the previous literature (Burbules and Berk 1999), I argue that this same unresolved trouble lies also in front of the newer variants of criticality, described above. Moreover, this analysis allows us to draw general wisdom for any future attempts at infusing critical thinking with specific socio-political stances.

The dispute regarding primacy

Burbules and Berk’s original article already outlined the central talking points that largely set the agenda for any future exchanges between critical thinking and critical pedagogy. Namely, although these traditions have remained estranged in academic fora, partly due to the abovementioned sociological reasons, this condition can also be blamed on the deep (meta)theoretical differences that make conducting any constructive dialogue challenging from the start. The reason is that the core principles of critical thinking and critical pedagogy are in direct conflict with each other, creating a zero-sum game of sorts, where both players cannot win at the same time. This situation is thus not really a case of incommensurability, which would call for a mediating translator, but rather a direct case of word against word. This is caused by the fact that we are facing a kind of chicken or egg dilemma, where both viewpoints value their perspective as the first viewpoint on the theme of critique, to which the competing view should therefore submit. In Burbules and Berk’s words both parties regard their opponent as not, despite their name, sufficiently critical—especially when contrasted with the alternative offered by their competitor.

As mentioned earlier, Burbules and Berk themselves abandon the goal of resolving this debate one way or another through philosophical considerations or arguments, and rather suggest an out-of-the-box solution that attempts to overcome the whole predicament by criticality, which they position somewhere outside the whole argument. Such diplomacy of course shows admirable sportsmanship, but in my view, the original philosophical tensions here do not disappear so easily with this evasive maneuver—in fact, it only seems to reinforce the simplifying caricatures of these positions. Furthermore, I argue that the same problematic dynamic is carried over to the proposals of Sibbett, Davies, and Barnett, which aspire to follow in the footsteps of Burbules and Berk.

So, what is the chief point of contention in the metatheoretical disagreement between critical thinking and critical pedagogy? Let us listen to the side of critical thinking first. In this case all legitimate educational theory-building should proceed following the criterion for rational belief formation. No detailed societal conclusions that are to be included in our educational theories can be brought in from the outside of this belief formation, as that would be tantamount to indoctrination, an anathema of modern educational thinking. In contrast, critical pedagogues maintain that although critical thinking claims proudly to be the impartial ‘voice of reason’, it is nevertheless a product of its contingent time and environment.⁹ Indeed, this problem is only made worse here by critical thinking’s atomizing and decontextualizing approach that specifically threatens to lose sight of the larger socio-political connections entirely. In this way, critical thinking can in fact turn into an instrument of educational policy used by the hegemonic societal groups to perpetuate the current social order—even if such sinister motives were not in the minds of the theorists of critical thinking, be that as it may, this is how their ideas are now being misused. As our conception of critical thinking—how this ideal is formulated theoretically and how it is implemented through educational policies—is not an isolated islet in society, we must adopt a broader viewpoint on this topic and ask ourselves self-critically: whose interests are ultimately being served by this account of critical thinking. How might it end up restricting the freedom of the students who are subjected to this teaching? Above we saw that a worry of this kind is present in the variant of criticality propagated by Davies and Barnett, when they state that critical thinking is marketed in technocratic spirit in entrepreneur universities based on the needs of labor markets.

In response I would say that it is doubtlessly true that policy questions regarding the role and usage of critical thinking as an educational objective are worthy of our attention. Yet it is hard to see what serious shortcoming inherent in the mainstream account of critical thinking would require us to update this model to address these matters. It is entirely possible to carry out such examinations within the framework of critical thinking itself regarding the question of what makes this educational objective worth pursuing—and indeed there have been many such discussions. For sure, it is good to be reminded by critical pedagogy of the importance of these issues, but nothing in these matters necessitates drastic alterations in the actual theoretical content of our conception of critical thinking.

Conversely, as for the previously described threat painted by Sibbett (and to some degree also by Burbules and Berk) that the account of critical thinking becomes a gavel used to silence marginalized groups by dividing views into right and wrong with absolute certainty and finality, it should be noted that fallibilism, reflectivity, and intellectual humility are all epistemic virtues and have long been held to belong in the critical thinking dispositions. Any activity that does not live up to these standards must therefore be regarded as a failure of critical thinking, and not as a representative case of what critical thinking is all about. Plus, on a metatheoretical level of discourse, self-critical examinations of the nature of critical thinking are always welcome (even if I have previously spoken of the mainstream account of critical thinking, this label does not signify any kind of closed and orthodox view; see also Burbules 2020: 370). The literature on the nature of critical thinking is voluminous and continues to pile up. Burbules and Berk (1999)—and also following them, Sibbett—maintain that the advantage of criticality over traditional critical thinking and critical pedagogy is that it can pull up its own roots for examination. In reply, I would say that any claims of inherent biases within the model of critical thinking, which prevents it from doing the exact same thing, must be assessed case by case. If these discussions are to be fruitful, these accusations need more tangible backing beyond mere insinuations of how ‘critical thinking has problems with social accountability’.

As an interim conclusion we can thus state that the alterations to our account of critical thinking suggested by criticality seem unnecessary, as they appear to be motivated by a misguided caricature of critical thinking as a narrow-minded and dogmatic phenomenon, which is missing the side of critical thinking dispositions entirely. When we consider all the aspects that have been associated with critical thinking by influential educational thinkers such as Dewey and Scheffler, this provides a good starting point for the kind of pedagogy that the advocates of criticality also want to promote.

But the zero-sum game between critical thinking and critical pedagogy does not end here. The advocates of critical pedagogy (and by extension criticality too) must answer what their educational theory and its normative suggestions are ultimately based on. The alternatives here pose a dilemma (see Siegel 1988: 72–3): either this pedagogical theory is based metatheoretically on objective and rational critical thinking, or it is based on some alternative kind of argumentation (which nevertheless makes it believable and somehow normatively compelling to us). If we grasp the first horn of the dilemma, it seems that the advocates of critical pedagogy will admit that their position is no better secured than critical thinking—the fate of both sides hangs on the question of are the procedures of critical thinking trustworthy for educational theory-building. If, conversely, we opt to take the latter horn, we can now pose a tu quoque argument of sorts to critical pedagogues and ask how they know that their own theory-building is objective and free of implicit political biases. Should we just trust their word on the matter? How will a critical pedagogue justify her emphases in a classroom of students if the issue is raised? If these conclusions are to be convincing and normatively binding, the questions of oppressive structures and societal forces must be evaluated in the light of the evidence supporting these claims, which seems to take us back to critical thinking. It would thus seem that the supporters of critical pedagogy do not have a more convincing answer than critical thinking theorists. Both parties are in the same boat.

In a wider view, any relativization or questioning of rationalism is tantamount to poisoning your own well, since it is then questionable how the person can, after such a move, convincingly argue in favor of her particular theses—such as views on social justice. Thus, the advocates of critical pedagogy and criticality should lean on critical thinking as the starting point for their theorizing. The best metatheory for critical pedagogy is the project of critical thinking. Here my line of argumentation resembles a dialectical move, which Burbules (1999: 487) has playfully criticized under the description of ‘[y]ou must agree with me because although you do not know it you already agree with me’. However, even if this dialectical move has been given such a funny name, I would still disagree with Burbules: merely identifying and naming this gambit is not a real counterargument against it—sometimes it does happen that the truth of one philosophical position is implicitly assumed by another, as happens here with critical thinking and criticality.

I continue my argument in the next section with the theme of indoctrination, which has been present between the lines already in the above sections. This traditional objection to the forms of critical pedagogy seems to carry over also to the forms of criticality—even if the advocates of criticality do not appear to recognize this.

Indoctrination

For all educational programs aiming to expand individuals’ spheres of freedom, the greatest cardinal sin is the phenomenon of indoctrination—that is, a mode of teaching that does not leave subjects enough room to freely form their own considered views on the subject matter. Of the modern pedagogical movements, this accusation has been associated especially with critical pedagogy, as its discontents have disparaged critical pedagogy as brainwashing ever since the 1970s (Burbules and Berk 1999). However, indoctrination has also been attributed to critical thinking, when its detractors have questioned how we are supposed to initiate our children into rational practices without strong teacher-centered guidance as at the outset of their schooling, these young students cannot initially form or express their own will (and, conversely, if the students were already competent critical thinkers, no external educational intervention would be needed). It would seem that both critical pedagogy and critical thinking end up in this predicament because their narratives follow what Biesta (2013: 83) has described as the logic of emancipation. It would seem that ‘liberation’ requires outside intervention, where a mentor, who has already travelled this road of liberation and is now free of the distorting illusions, can guide us on the same path. But this raises the question of whether this educational practice truly respects our students as autonomous persons.

I maintain that critical thinking is in a better position to answer this challenge. Although both traditions aim at emancipation, the conception of emancipation promoted by critical thinking aims to give our student the tools to actively practice her freedom as she best sees fit (in other words, this emancipation is freedom to do something, like giving keys to a car without a predetermined destination). On this basis, critical thinking can provide its own criteria for indoctrinating teaching, which is not defined by its content, intention, or method, but rather by what kind of an epistemic relationship the student has with the beliefs formed through education (Siegel 1988).

In comparison, the narrative of emancipation painted by critical pedagogy is more loaded in the sense that it describes the conditions that an individual should free herself from—this is like a description of a prison cell from which we should free ourselves. The proponent of critical thinking would then say here that the more detail we write into our story of emancipation, the more we have to frame certain conclusions as right from our educational pursuit’s point of view, which consequently also turns them into educational learning objectives. How will a critical pedagogue respond in a situation where a student, despite all our educational interventions, decides to choose contrary to our expectations? Critical pedagogy is easy and fun as long as our students choose as expected. The limits of our humor are truly tested when they choose differently. Should we then simply judge that this person has not grown to be free in the full and authentic sense, but is still under the spell of a distorting ideology?

As Burbules (2016: 4) diagnoses, this problem for the forms of critical pedagogy seems to derive from the teleological conception of emancipation inherent in Marxism, which defines a clear direction and telos for humankind’s liberation. The same challenge is now present in the forms of criticality that want to incorporate specific socio-political contents such as social justice and opposition to neo-liberal educational reforms within the theory of criticality (the criticism here does not extend to the earlier form of criticality suggested by Burbules and Berk, which does not have similar transformative aspirations).

The proponents of criticality do not seem to recognize the close kinship between the notions of epistemic rationality and critical thinking, or the fact that the more content we squeeze under the umbrella of rationality, the more we frame specific questions as settled—polemical questions that might still be open matters in current philosophy. If specific positions are incorporated into our account of critical thought, then deviating from these conclusions would be irrational. This problem also afflicts the proposed forms of criticality, which want to see specific social and political actions as tangible effects of this pedagogy. Socio-political activism is admirable, but it is problematic if a strong will for political ‘transformation’ is regarded as a predetermined trait of an ideal critical thinker. What if a critical thinker after acquainting herself with all the relevant socio-political facts on the matter decides that she is already living in the Leibnizian best possible world? That the actual world is her utopia? Of course, such a preference is perhaps far-fetched, but do we really want to decide this matter beforehand? The educational movements that state social transformation as their goal seem to assume that our actual world and its status quo is not the best possible. They include not only assumptions about the objective character of our social reality, but also normatively laden views on how we should react to these traits of the world. As Burbules (2016: 2) notes, the sound of the label ‘social justice’ obviously has a positive ring to it, but it is not patently uncontroversial what philosophical allegiances it involves.¹⁰

Referring to the arguments in the previous section, the proponents of critical pedagogy and criticality owe us some kind of explanation as to how exactly they have reached their conclusions. And if they do have such lines of reasoning to back their preferred conclusions, then why would we not teach these arguments in our classrooms in the spirit of critical thinking, so that our students have personally the chance to assess the strengths of these reasons. Burbules and Berk, as well as Sibbett (2016: 2), recognize indoctrination as the most pressing problem for the traditional forms of critical pedagogy, but at the same time appear to think that this problem somehow disappears when we have transcended the confrontational situation between critical thinking and critical pedagogy.¹¹ Unfortunately, things are not this easy, as the same problems still linger in front of us—which becomes apparent when this situation is examined through the lens of critical thinking.

Moreover, we can mention here the consideration that, as Sibbett (2016) herself argues, educators have found it hard to understand how critical pedagogy can be implemented at the level of classroom pedagogy. I add that this problem does not become any easier through criticality, but Sibbett does not seem to recognize this difficulty.

At this point I have to take a dismissive stance on the suggestion made by advocates of criticality to broaden the model of critical thinking, as these broadenings threaten to take this educational objective one big step closer to indoctrination. When we are envisioning our model of critical thinking, we should adhere to a principle of theoretical economy (not unlike Occam’s razor), and keep our model as simple as possible. A similar idea seems to be present in Biesta’s (2013: 18) thinking: he states that he does not want to sketch a detailed theory of subjectification. Referencing the title of Biesta’s book, there is always a ‘beautiful risk’ present in education that the student will find her own truths—and very well so, because this is how in the big picture the scientific culture of rational belief formation moves forward, while clinging conservatively to the old truths would keep us stationary. You can lead the horse to the water, but you cannot make it drink. On the societal level we can note that it is in the spirit of liberal democracy that a state can never truly ‘trust’ in its citizens—they form their own opinions. The best we can do is to equip our students with the intellectual tools of critical thinking so that their conclusions may not be based on faulty premises or irrational logic.

Conclusions

My article has taken a critical stance on both the classic forms of critical pedagogy and also the newer forms of criticality, which seem to share many of the same problems. For the record, I want to state that my thinking here has not been driven by a hidden agenda against any particular socio-political stance. The original critical pedagogy was characterized by strong leftist and anti-capitalist spirit, and since then it has inspired various forms of intersectional feminism, post-colonialism, and environmental education. As we have seen, similar themes of social justice appear within the context of criticality as well. Nothing I have said above is an argument against such positions—on the contrary, I would say that critical thinking can be the best ally of such pursuits (see Siegel 1997). It is desirable also within the framework of critical thinking that education presents the pluralistic spectrum of different opinions, and that we build more inclusive practices of discourse so that we can hear the voices of marginalized groups (Fricker 2007). This is the beautiful message of critical pedagogy and criticality. Although these same moral virtues have been mentioned earlier within the theorizing of critical thinking, it is equally true that this side of our conceptualization of critical thinking has remained underdeveloped, especially on matters of pedagogy. On this point the advocates of criticality have acted as welcome reminders that there is still work to be done in the critical thinking scholarship.

My other closing remark relates to the nature of my argument above. I stated that many of the ‘novel’ attributes introduced under the banner of criticality are, in fact, already present in the model of critical thinking, so that in the big picture all parties agree on these issues. This is a common form of argument within philosophy, but it might raise some eyebrows among outsiders—and justifiably so—as it might now appear that these arguments are purely trivial. In the end it is largely beside the point what label we use to denote our views—whether it is ‘critical thinking', ‘criticality', or some other entirely new alternative. When I defended the mainstream conception of critical thinking, this should not be read as a specific defense of the honour of the critical thinking tradition per se. In the big picture it is valuable if we can demonstrate how different educational paradigms share common ground—no matter what the ultimate name for these views is.

Acknowledgments

I am grateful to Katariina Holma and Henrik Rydenfelt for their helpful comments. I thank the Eudaimonia Institute at the University of Oulu for funding.

References

Footnotes