I'm with stupid

Last week, this year’s SAT data came out—the average verbal score has dropped to 497 out of 800 possible points, three points lower than last year. To put that in perspective (for those who have mercifully forgotten) the average Columbia student scores around a 720. Over the century that the SAT has been administered, this year’s is the lowest score on record. Not surprisingly, the past few days have seen an ongoing debate in the New York Times concerning the source of the problem and how it could be solved. Computers, television, lack of family communication, and lack of funding take the brunt of the blame. But we knew that already.

Grappling for a solution, educators have suggested encouraging kids to read, properly funding early childhood programs, and hiring better teachers. Somehow none of this feels new. What I think we have on our hands is an attitude problem and at that, one that is deeply enmeshed in our political fabric. At the end of the day, I am inclined to believe the solution lies in that realm as well.

The American embrace of stupidity is historical fact, which former Columbia professor Richard Hofstadter immortalized in his famous work, Anti-Intellectualism in American Life. We idolize the “self-made man,” the university dropout who went on to become a billionaire, because he reminds us of the burly frontiersman who supposedly conquered the West. Educated people have long been an emblem of class struggle and cultural tensions between urban and rural life. Americans have cheered those who are vocal in deriding the traditions of academia, notably President George W. Bush. As Paul Krugman wrote in a 2008 op-ed, Bush was “lionized as a real-world Forrest Gump, a simple man who prevails through his gut instincts and moral superiority.”

Of course, anti-intellectualism is not the same thing as stupidity, and the crude term “stupidity” does not translate directly into the SAT-score drop. But contemporary politicians such as Texas Governor Rick Perry are pushing it—whatever it is—to a new level, wholly beyond Bush’s gentlemanly string of C’s at Yale. Steve Benen of the Washington Post wrote, “Perry isn’t just celebrating anti-intellectualism; he’s living it. He doesn’t care what biologists, climate scientists, economists, historians, or dictionaries have to offer; Perry already has all the information he needs.”

A writer from the Telegraph tastefully added, “The poor fellow can’t even master a skipping rope.” And he has a point. The presidential candidate has traveled around the country bragging about how he was ranked tenth in his high school class of thirteen. Perry wears the F’s he earned in college—in basic economics, Shakespeare, and a course called “Meats”—as badges of pride. To put it simply, the man has an attitude problem. Could he be expected to raise SAT scores? Could those who encourage his displays of stupidity be counted upon to safeguard our educational system? Or even to act as intellectually nurturing parents?

Many of the responses to the SAT article in the Times pointed to family life as a predictor of future success. At Columbia, most of us were lucky enough to be raised by bookish parents who encouraged us academically. It shouldn’t come as a shock that people’s basic attitude toward learning makes a difference. One of the best examples is the legendary “Tiger Mom.” In the Wall Street Journal, the formidable Amy Chua lays out the tenets of raising high-scoring kids, writing that hers were not allowed to “watch TV or play computer games, get any grade less than an A, not be the No. 1 student in every subject except gym and drama, not play the piano or violin.” Among other prohibitions.

Do I know anything about parenting? Not really. Do I think this is crazy? More than a little. But the point Tiger Mom makes, as well as its implications in a culture that embraces stupidity and scoffs at excellence, are real. When Rick Perry campaigns on the basis of his academic failures—as Maureen Dowd put it, “perpetrating the idea that there’s no intellectual requirement for the office of the presidency”—he fuels a culture that applauds mediocrity. Remind me: Why are we surprised when the kids can’t spell so good?

Every year, an international bureau called the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development ranks the educational achievement of its 34 highly developed member nations. Though it once topped the charts, America has sunk to the 25th spot. It is unclear whether this ranking system—or for that matter, the SAT test—is an accurate gauge of progress. What is clear is that we’re facing a problem that “more time spent reading” and “early childhood education” will not be sufficient to fix. The problem is social, political, and when it comes down to it, personal.

Amanda Gutterman is a Columbia College junior majoring in English. The Far Side of the Familiar runs alternate Wednesdays.