Arquivo de etiquetas: educação

Eleiçoes legislativas 2025: O elefante na sala

Publicado a por

Muitas lições e ilações podem ser retiradas dos resultados eleitorais de hoje. Os comentadores televisivos estão a focar-se nas lições e efeitos de curto prazo, especialmente os atinentes à formação de governo (será que a AD se coligará com a IL?) e à liderança do PS. Iremos ainda ouvir falar muito da taxa de abstenção e da incapacidade dos partidos centrais do regime responderem aos problemas do país, e assistiremos também a vaticínios sobre a duração do próximo governo. Além disto, continuarão todos, comentadores, jornalistas e partidos, a ignorar as mudanças estruturais na sociedade portuguesa que estão intrinsecamente relacionadas com o crescimento do Chega e que irão contribuir fortemente para a erosão do regime democrático.

A principal mudança prende-se com a penetração do Chega nas camadas mais jovens da população portuguesa, designadamente os adolescentes do ensino básico e secundário. Há um conjunto de factores que permitiu ao Chega fidelizar muitos membros deste segmento demográfico. A longa decadência do sistema educativo e a ascensão das redes sociais, a que veio mais recentemente juntar-se a emergência da Inteligência Artificial – que para qualquer sistema educativo representa um autêntico retrocesso civilizacional -, facilitaram muito o contacto do Chega com estes jovens, que estavam já à mercê de um ambiente digital tóxico.

O que o Chega tem vindo a fazer é um combate cultural de longo prazo focado naqueles que serão os eleitores do futuro, que estão muito mais vulneráveis à desinformação e manipulação do que quaisquer anteriores gerações estiveram. Continuar a ignorar este problema será dramático para o regime democrático. Aliás, filósofos políticos tão diversos quanto Platão, John Locke e Rousseau debruçaram-se particularmente sobre o tema da educação e a sua importância para os regimes políticos.

A este propósito, aqui ficam alguns excertos de uma entrevista que eu e a Professora Isabel David demos no ano passado ao International Journal of Iberian Studies:

SPP: (…). Chega, on the other hand, has broken that restraint, activating these prejudices and deeply polarizing both Parliament and Portuguese society. We are already seeing the effects. Culturally, academically, and socially, things are not as healthy as they were before Chega became a significant political force.

ID: Samuel’s point about social media strategy is crucial. This phenomenon isn’t limited to Portugal; it’s happening all over Europe, the United States and Brazil. Younger generations are drawn in by parties like Chega through platforms like TikTok, where they have a huge following. I’ve asked students why they find Chega’s social media appealing, and they say it’s because the content is dynamic, concise and speaks their language. Figures like Chega’s Rita Matias, who is young and relatable, know how to connect with them. However, Chega isn’t only appealing to younger voters. Like other populist right-wing parties, they attract older, less educated voters too. But it’s their effectiveness with the younger generation that’s particularly concerning. My generation and older ones don’t speak the same language as these parties, and that’s partly why we aren’t as effective at countering them. Parties like the Left Bloc may address young people’s concerns but aren’t as popular on social media. While the Socialists and PSD are trying to catch up, and the IL has a relatively strong social media presence, no one has managed to grow like Chega.

SPP: The IL is another party worth noting. They target young voters and are skilled at marketing, with strong messaging about taxes and affordable housing. Yet they lack the polarizing, anti-establishment appeal that Chega has. They’re more of a civil, centre-right party and they don’t engage in the kind of racist rhetoric that Chega does. There’s a pervasive idea in Portugal that the current regime is dominated by the left, and many right-wing intellectuals argue that political correctness stifles free speech. This is a key part of Chega’s appeal. They position themselves as the ones challenging political correctness and fighting against a supposed left-wing cultural dominance. For young people who feel disillusioned or rebellious, this message can be very attractive.

DK: In your opinion, how do you think education, particularly in the humanities, can serve as a counterbalance to the appeal of these right-wing movements?

ID: That’s a really tough question. I believe the task ahead is monumental. One of the main issues is the overwhelming dependence on social media. This brings us to the broader issue of the education system. It’s failing to provide the critical thinking skills and foundational knowledge that young people need. There’s too much reliance on gadgets and not enough emphasis on books and traditional learning. We need to reduce, if not completely eliminate, the use of mobile phones in the classroom. There needs to be a serious conversation about what is right and what is wrong. (…).
Many students have told me that until they got to university, they didn’t know the difference between right and wrong when it came to politics. They were heavily influenced by what they saw on social media, and it was only through academic debate and discussion that they started to form informed opinions. This problem isn’t limited to social sciences students. In fields like engineering and health, students are even more disconnected from political engagement. Many simply don’t care about politics, don’t trust politicians and get most of their information from social media, which leaves them vulnerable to misinformation. Addressing this requires a serious conversation involving universities, democratic institutions and families. We need to rebuild the connection between education, values and critical thinking, because the future of our democracies depends on it.

SPP: The impact of social media is very concerning. Jonathan Haidt, in his book The Anxious Generation (Penguin Press, 2024), and Michel Desmurget, in La Fabrique du crétin digital (‘The Digital Idiot Factory’) (Seuil, 2019), talk about how social media companies are effectively holding our children hostage. Ironically, the engineers who designed these platforms send their children to schools that don’t allow mobile phones or iPads because they know the harm they can cause. Yet, as a society, we allow children to be overexposed to technology. We need to push back against this.

Sobre a diferença entre a política e a ciência política

Publicado a por

Max Weber, “Science as a Vocation”, in Max Weber’s Complete Writings on Academic and Political Vocations, ed. John Dreijmanis (New York: Algora Publishing, 2008), 41-43:

Let us now focus our attention on the disciplines with which I am most closely concerned; that is, sociology, history, political economy and political science and those varieties of cultural philosophy whose function is to interpret them. It has been said, and I support this, that politics has no place in the lecture hall. It is out of place there when students introduce it. I would, for example, find it deplorable if, say, pacifist students surrounded my former colleague Dietrich Schäfer in Berlin in one of his lectures and created a disturbance, and I would find it equally deplorable if, as is said to have occurred, anti-pacifist students behaved in the same way toward Professor [Friedrich W.] Förster, although my views are in many respects as far from his as it is possible to be. But neither does politics have any place in the lecture hall when the lecturer introduces it. Least of all, when his own particular subject is political science. Views regarding issues of practical politics and scientific analysis of political structures and party positions are two quite different matters. If someone speaks about democracy in a public meeting, he should make no secret of his personal point of view. It is his confounded duty and obligation to take a clear partisan position. The words used are then not a means of scientific analysis, but of political campaigning to win over others to his point of view. They are not plowshares to break up the soil of contemplative thought, but swords to use against the adversary. They are weapons in the struggle.

In a lecture or in a lecture hall, on the other hand, it would be an outrage to use words in this way. In that situation, where the topic is “democracy,” for example, one will take the different forms of democracy and analyze them to establish how they function, and what particular consequences each has for the conditions of life, and then contrast them with other, non-democratic, forms of political order and attempt to reach the point at which the listener himself can adopt a stance in the light of his ultimate ideals. But the genuine teacher, speaking from the lectern, will take great care not to force any point of view on him, whether explicitly or by suggestion, while claiming to “let the facts speak for themselves,” which would naturally be a most underhand tactic.

But why should we not do this? I admit that many highly esteemed colleagues are of the opinion that such self-denial is not feasible, and if it were practiced it would be a mere eccentricity and should be avoided. Now, one cannot demonstrate scientifically what the duty of an academic teacher should be. One can only demand from him the intellectual integrity to be clear about the difference between, on the one hand, establishing facts, mathematical or logical states of affairs, or establishing the internal structure of cultural values, and on the other hand, answering the question of the value of culture and of its individual contents, followed by the question of how one should act within the cultural community and political associations. These are two entirely heterogeneous problems. If he goes on to ask why he should not deal with both in the lecture hall, the answer is because the prophet and the demagogue have no place at the lectern in the lecture hall. The message to both the prophet and the demagogue is: “Go out on the streets and speak publicly,” which is to say, go where criticism is possible. In the lecture hall the teacher sits facing an audience who are obliged to attend his lectures for the sake of their careers and remain silent while he speaks. I regard it as irresponsible if instead of giving his listeners the benefit of his knowledge and scientific experience, which is his duty, he takes advantage of a situation where there is no one there who can criticize him and attempts to impose his political views on them. No doubt, it may be impossible for the individual to disregard his subjective sympathies entirely, but he must then face the severest criticism in the forum of his own conscience. Promoting his own views confirms nothing, as purely factual errors are also possible. Yet, they attest nothing against his duty to seek the truth. I am therefore against this approach, not least in the interests of science. I am prepared to demonstrate, from the works of our historians, that whenever the man of science puts forward his own value judgment, full understanding of the facts ceases. But this subject is beyond the scope of this evening’s topic and would call for lengthy discussion.

Sobre o politicamente correcto

Publicado a por

Raymond Boudon, Os Intelectuais e o Liberalismo (Lisboa: Gradiva, 2005), 85-86:

Podemos afirmar que estes diversos factores – a descida média das exigências escolares e universitárias, a implantação de uma epistemologia que desvaloriza o conceito de um saber objectivo – produziram ainda outro efeito de importância crucial: contribuíram para um alastramento do moralismo nos meios do ensino e, mais ainda, nos meios intelectuais, já que é mais fácil emitir um juízo moral sobre um determinado episódio histórico ou sobre um determinado fenómeno social do que compreendê-lo. Compreender pressupõe ao mesmo tempo informação e competência analítica. Emitir um juízo moral, pelo contrário, não pressupõe nenhuma competência especial. O reconhecimento da capacidade de compreender pressupõe uma concepção objectivista do conhecimento. O reconhecimento da capacidade de sentir, não. Acresce que, se um dado juízo moral vai ao encontro da sensibilidade de um certo público, ou cumpre os dogmas que cimentam uma determinada rede de influência, pode ser socialmente rentável.

A isto é preciso acrescentar, antecipando uma objecção possível, que o relativismo cognitivo – o relativismo em matéria de saber – não implica de maneira nenhuma o relativismo em matéria de moral. Pelo contrário, o relativismo cognitivo estimula a ética da convicção. Porque, como uma convicção não pode, à luz do relativismo cognitivo, ser objectivamente fundamentada, o facto de ser vivida como justa é facilmente encarado como único critério que permite validá-la. Este critério tende por isso a ser considerado necessário e suficiente. O episódio do Quebeque a que anteriormente me referi, em que um grupo de feministas propôs que fossem atenuadas as exigências do doutoramento a favor das mulheres, com o argumento de que o saber é sempre incerto enquanto as exigências morais são irrecusáveis, é um exemplo que atesta este efeito.

Assim se compreende que a desvalorização do saber possa ser acompanhada de uma sobrevalorização da moral ou, mais exactamente, de uma exacerbação das exigências em matéria de igualdade em detrimento de outros valores. É talvez este fenómeno que algumas expressões hoje repetidas à exaustão tentam captar: «o pensamento único», «o politicamente correcto», a political correctness.