Means and ends.

Abstract

Means and Ends A policy is an instrument of human purpose, a tool we use to achieve our goals. That statement may be a good thumbnail description but it begs a serious question. It assumes that a policy is sort of like a T-square or a spade, a neutral device that can be applied to the task at hand. But as I have suggested in this space (No More Noses to the Glass, January 1988), policies really cannot be neutral. In education as in every form of human endeavor, the policy wears the ethical cloak of the policy maker. Policy is driven by principle and not vice versa. A what-we-do (policy) without a why-we-do-it (ethics) is a necessary tool looking to become a lethal weapon. That raises a question for special educators. If our policies derive from an ethical perspective, how is this ethical perspective to be constructed? In words, where are the special educator's ethics rooted? Traditionally, this question has been answered in our Western culture in a number of ways, three of which are: * First, we can find our ethical grounding in Reason. Here we assume that there is a discernible order to things--a natural, universal law--which we can come to understand and then follow to arrive at right decisions. The main argument raised against this point of view has always been that if there really were a universal natural law, it would be universally plain in all cultures and societies, and clearly it is not. * Second, we can seek the Good by obeying a code of moral principles that have broad social and cultural support, e.g., the Golden Rule, the Ten Commandments, etc. For instance, many believe the ethical base we maintain for educating exceptional children is deeply rooted in the Judeo-Christian tradition which affirms that each individual is unique and unrepeatable with the right to full growth and development. The problem here has usually been that the code cannot possibly cover all the cases, which eventually leads to hair-splitting when one gets to complex specifics. * Third, we can seek the Good by grounding it in a point of view on human relationships. Ethics, this perspective says, is a people matter, and the irreducible minimum for relating to others is to treat them always as ends and never as means. The most common criticism here is this view's easy flirtation with relativism and its fellow traveler, self-delusion. People wind up equating their own goals with the best interests of others. Although all of the preceding provide an ethical base, I confess, nonetheless, that my personal bias is toward the third of these perspectives, in part because I find it a very fruitful way of thinking for education professionals. The stuff of our jobs is human interaction and the decisions we make get played out in human lives. We are charged with bringing together the two most precious assets of our society--our children and our knowledge--to create something new. With that kind of job, educators, and particularly special educators, have to be other focused, placing children's good before their own. If, on the hand, we follow an ethical path that includes treating others as means rather than as ends, that raises some continuing questions about our professional standards as special educators. How ethical are we in fulfilling our instructional responsibilities when it comes to questions such as the use of time, for example? A brief story may prove instructive. When I was an assistant superintendent, I tried to teach in a classroom at least one afternoon a week. I wasn't always successful, but I thought it important not to let administrative duties shut me off from contact with children. My first experience verged on the explosive. I found that in trying to get through what I had planned for the children, we were interrupted all afternoon at about 6- to 8-minute intervals by announcements over the PA system! At day's end, after throwing a near fit with the principal, I steamed back to my office and began designing a new policy on the use of squawk-boxes. …