I suppose many of us think about the classes we wish we had signed up for in college.  Right now, as somebody who believes public schools are among our nation’s most important and most threatened public institutions, I wish that in addition to enrolling in The Philosophy of Education, I had also taken a class in political philosophy—or at least Political Science 101. How have groups like the Heritage Foundation, the Lynde and Harry Bradley Foundation, Betsy DeVos’s American Federation of Children and their proxies like Moms for Liberty managed to discredit public schooling and at the same time spawn an explosion of vouchers, which, according to the editors of last year’s excellent analysis, The School Voucher Illusion: Exposing the Pretense of Equity, are failing to serve our society’s poorest children even as they are destroying the institution of public schooling?

Here are that book’s conclusions: “As currently structured, voucher policies in the United States are unlikely to help the students they claim to support. Instead, these policies have often served as a facade for the far less popular reality of funding relatively advantaged (and largely White) families, many of whom already attended—or would attend—private schools without subsidies. Although vouchers are presented as helping parents choose schools, often the arrangements permit the private schools to do the choosing… Advocacy that began with a focus on equity must not become a justification for increasing inequity. Today’s voucher policies have, by design, created growing financial commitments of taxpayer money to serve a constituency of the relatively advantaged that is redefining their subsidies as rights—often in jurisdictions where neighborhood public schools do not have the resources they need.” (The School Voucher Illusion: Exposing the Pretense of Equity, p. 290)

As I watch the wave of school privatization washing across conservative states and read about universal school choice as one of the priorities of presidential candidate Donald Trump as well as a goal of the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025, I find myself wishing I had a better grasp of how our society has gone off the rails.  I wonder what I would have learned about the difference between democracy and extreme individualism in that political theory class I missed, and I find myself trying to catch up by reading—for example—on the difference between a society defined by individualist consumerism and a society defined by citizenship.

Back in 1984, the late political theorist Benjamin Barber published Strong Democracy, a book defining the principles our federal and state constitutions and laws are presumed to protect:  “Strong democracy … rests on the idea of a self-governing community of citizens who are united less by homogeneous interests than by civic education and who are made capable of common purpose and mutual action by virtue of their civic attitudes and participatory institutions rather than their altruism or their good nature. Strong democracy is consonant with—indeed depends upon—the politics of conflict, the sociology of pluralism, and the separation of private and public realms of action… The theory of strong democracy… envisions… politics as… the way that human beings with variable but malleable natures and with competing but overlapping interests can contrive to live together communally not only to their mutual advantage but also to the advantage of their mutuality…  It seeks to create a public language that will help reformulate private interests in terms susceptible to public accommodation… and it aims at understanding individuals not as abstract persons but as citizens, so that commonality and equality rather than separateness are the defining traits of human society.” (Strong Democracy, pp 117-119)

In that same book, Barber describes the consumer as a representative of extreme individualism—the opposite of the public citizen: “The modern consumer is the… last in a long train of models that depict man as a greedy, self-interested, acquisitive survivor who is capable nonetheless of the most self-denying deferrals of gratification for the sake of ultimate material satisfaction. The consumer is a creature of great reason devoted to small ends… He uses the gift of choice to multiply his options in and to transform the material conditions of the world, but never to transform himself or to create a world of mutuality with his fellow humans.” (Strong Democracy, p. 22)

Two decades later, Barber published Consumed, in which he explores in far more detail the danger of a society defined by consumerism rather than strong democracy. As his case study he contrasts parent-consumers who prioritize personal choice to shape their children’s education and parent-citizens: “Through vouchers we are able as individuals, through private choosing, to shape institutions and policies that are useful to our own interests but corrupting to the public goods that give private choosing its meaning.  I want a school system where my kid gets the very best; you want a school system where your kid is not slowed down by those less gifted or less adequately prepared; she wants a school system where children whose ‘disadvantaged backgrounds’ (often kids of color) won’t stand in the way of her daughter’s learning; he (a person of color) wants a school system where he has the maximum choice to move his kid out of ‘failing schools’ and into successful ones. What do we get?  The incomplete satisfaction of those private wants through a fragmented system in which individuals secede from the public realm, undermining the public system to which we can subscribe in common. Of course no one really wants a country defined by deep educational injustice and the surrender of a public and civic pedagogy whose absence will ultimately impact even our own private choices… Yet aggregating our private choices as educational consumers in fact yields an inegalitarian and highly segmented society in which the least advantaged are further disadvantaged as the wealthy retreat ever further from the public sector.  As citizens, we would never consciously select such an outcome, but in practice what is good for ‘me,’ the educational consumer, turns out to be a disaster for ‘us’ as citizens and civic educators—and thus for me the denizen of an American commons (or what’s left of it).” (Consumed, p. 132)

Barber concludes: “It is the peculiar toxicity of privatization ideology that it rationalizes corrosive private choosing as a surrogate for the public good.  It enthuses about consumers as the new citizens who can do more with their dollars… than they ever did with their votes. It associates the privileged market sector with liberty as private choice while it condemns democratic government as coercive.” (Consumed, p. 143)  “The consumer’s republic is quite simply an oxymoron… Public liberty demands public institutions that permit citizens to address the public consequences of private market choices… Asking what “I want’ and asking what ‘we as a community to which I belong need’ are two different questions, though neither is altruistic and both involve ‘my’ interests: the first is ideally answered by the market; the second must be answered by democratic politics.” “Citizens cannot be understood as mere consumers because individual desire is not the same thing as common ground and public goods are always something more than an aggregation of private wants…. (W)hat is public cannot be determined by consulting or aggregating private desires.” (Consumed, p. 126)

So that is today’s lesson from the political philosophy class I was never able to fit into my schedule in college: “Freedom is not just about standing alone and saying no. As a usable ideal, it turns out to be a public rather than a private notion… (N)owadays, the idea that only private persons are free, and that only personal choices of the kind consumers make count as autonomous, turns out to be an assault not on tyranny but on democracy. It challenges not the illegitimate power by which tyrants once ruled us but the legitimate power by which we try to rule ourselves in common. Where once this notion of liberty challenged corrupt power, today it undermines legitimate power… It forgets the very meaning of the social contract, a covenant in which individuals agree to give up unsecured private liberty in exchange for the blessings of public liberty and common security.” (Consumed, pp.119-123)