Renewing America’s Civic Education

Editor’s Note: After a distinguished career in academia (Northwestern University) and business (McKinsey & C.), Brook Manville researches and writes about the history of democracy and the future of free societies. He and Stanford Political Science professor Josiah Ober recently published a thoughtful book of ideas on how to renew our democracy, The Civic Bargain: How Democracy Survives. Like many observers, they have grown concerned about the state of civic education, but also offer solutions.

There is a long tradition of civic education in America, encompassing both informal and formal learning. Literacy rates in colonial America were high in comparison to contemporary monarchical and autocratic countries. Literacy promoted knowledge of current events and ancient history. It fostered the culture of critical thought, reasoned argument, and frank debate that was a precondition for the revolution.

Ratification of the Constitution was driven in part by the editorials of The Federalist, published to inform Americans about the issues and decisions that went into the creation of the nation’s new charter. Many of the Founders understood the importance of educating citizens to make the new democracy work, though they differed on the exact purpose and type of knowledge to emphasize. When Jefferson established the University of Virginia (1819), his intent was to “advance human knowledge, educate leaders, and cultivate an informed citizenry.”

Civic education content appears in some late eighteenth-century school materials, but became more prominent in school curricula during the first part of the nineteenth century when a movement arose for more coherent and widespread public education. Horace Mann, a key leader, emphasized that free, standardized, and universal schooling was essential to American self-governance, observing, “It may be an easy thing to make a Republic, but it is a very laborious thing to make Republicans; and woe to the republic that rests upon no better foundation than ignorance, selfishness and passion.”

During this same general era, Tocqueville’s observations in his Democracy in America underscored the significance of Americans learning about and reinforcing the all-important values of “equality of condition” in their many voluntary associations. He also noted how high rates of American literacy and widespread newspaper circulation contributed to democratic culture.

Before long, however, competing trends called into question the need for Americans’ pursuit of civic education. The focus of educators shifted toward “more practical” subjects. President Lincoln signed the Morrill Act of 1862 (amid the Civil War) that launched land grant universities. The expanded opportunities for higher education increased demand for more vocational learning. For example, Montana Agricultural College – today Montana State University – was founded in 1893 and soon adopted as its motto “Education for Efficiency.”

But the vocational movement in turn created its own backlash. Early twentieth-century educators worried that if the commitment to civic education was lost, if shallow careerism replaced the foundational knowledge necessary for democracy, the country would suffer in the longer run. Drawing on a tradition of classical learning, American schools, colleges, and civic organizations symbolically adopted the ancient oath proclaimed by Athenian cadets prior to becoming adult citizens. American students similarly swore a version of the oath on graduation, and politicians repeated it in radio broadcasts.

Civic education regained momentum, with many American schools and universities building structured curricula centered on government processes, the history of democratic development, and a celebration of patriotic values. These were complemented in contemporary parades, holidays, and the growth of civically patriotic groups like the Boy Scouts.

During the mid- and later twentieth century, there was yet another swing of the pendulum that again de-emphasized civic education. The Sputnik and Cold War eras put urgent strategic priority on science, math, and engineering skills for Americans. Civic education was soon further pressured during the Vietnam War. Protesters argued against education that celebrated the history and decision-making of a government that was fighting an immoral war and lying to its citizens about it. Many other critics raised concerns about persistent racism in our society, notwithstanding progress driven by a rising civil rights movement.

Since then, the study of American history and its institutions has become a battlefield of moral debates and political antagonisms. To minimize controversy, schools reacted by watering down or eliminating civic educational offerings. Once celebratory – but also educational – public holidays (Memorial Day, Veterans Day, and Independence Day) were reduced for many Americans to opportunities for family picnics or to buy a new mattress on sale.

Today’s faded emphasis on educating citizens in the history, institutions, and values of democracy and self-governance is visible in doleful statistics. To take some selected and alarming samples, only 30 percent of Americans born since 1980 now say it is essential to live in a democracy; 44 percent of Americans cannot name all three branches of our government; one in three say they would consider abolishing the Supreme Court; and 30 percent of twelfth graders say they have never participated in any kind of debate.

A civics assessment done by the National Assessment of Educational Progress has reported that less than one-third of eighth graders are able to identify the historical purpose of the Declaration of Independence, and fewer than one-fifth of all high school seniors can explain how citizen participation benefits democracy. Student achievement in civic knowledge for Black and Latino students typically lags behind their white counterparts, and those minority populations also generally have less access to civic education.

That said, even the best public schools typically fall short in their civic offerings. As one student of a nationally ranked high school told us, “My education offers nothing beyond a standard curriculum of American history, nor anything about civic engagement and involvement.”

Toward a Renewal of America’s Civic Education

For democracy to survive and continue to flourish, citizens must understand and support its essential conditions – binding one another in a civic bargain to govern themselves. In our book, The Civic Bargain: How Democracy Survives, we highlighted how, in an era of increasing polarization and distrust in government – and amid a historical expansion of immigration into the United States – it is more important than ever to educate citizens in the essential conditions that define democracy and make it work. Thus, our recommendation that America must now dramatically invest in renewing its civic education.

Fortunately, our call comes at a time when interest in civics appears to be growing. The question of the education of citizens is once again moving to the forefront for educators at all levels-from K-12 to universities. There is also increasing attention addressing that need among civic and nonprofit organizations as well as by some members of Congress. That said, this shift is still in the early days, and it remains to determine the best content, experiences, and approaches to pursue.

So, what should twenty-first-century civic education look like? We cannot offer a detailed answer here, and there is no one-size-fits-all solution. Our research, however, and insights from practical experience in the Stanford Civics Initiative suggest some general design principles. We hope these will contribute to the continuing development of renewed programs aimed at enabling tomorrow’s citizens to rebuild their civic bargain with one another.

Build on Earlier Traditions

Civic education in surviving democracies looks ahead but also looks back because self-governance is fostered by understanding the origins of living without a boss and why it has been so highly valued. America’s own rich tradition of civic education provides a platform on which to build-even if future programs must evolve or discard certain themes and certainties of the past. The history of civic education at Stanford University, where one of us teaches, offers one way of pursuing this balance.

In 1920, the year that the Nineteenth Amendment granted women the right to vote, Stanford (coeducational from its founding in 1885) inaugurated Problems of Citizenship, a year-long course for all first-year students. Incoming students were told that the founders of their university “had in mind a preparation for citizenship as a problem in education, rather than the development of a technique in Political Science, Economics, or Law.”

In addition to laying the “foundations for work in your special field of interest,” the university would also call on them “to build carefully and to prepare thoughtfully for your work as a citizen.” They would learn that “citizenship is not a thing apart, something to be thought of only occasionally or left to the energies of a minority of our people, but that its proper understanding is at the very root of our daily life.”

Stanford’s Problems of Citizenship, in common with similar courses in other universities, was prompted in part by a challenge of scale: not only had the enfranchised citizen population doubled now that women enjoyed voting rights, but in recent years there had been a sharp increase in immigration. Between 1890 and 1910, immigrants constituted between 14 and 15 percent of the total US population, up from about 10 percent in 1870.

The citizenship course not only pushed back against merely vocational education but also sought to address concerns about the civic loyalties of immigrants (notably German speakers) in the aftermath of World War I. It was seen as imperative that millions of new citizens understand the principles and practices of democracy.

After 1930, due to restrictive legislation, immigration levels dropped sharply. The decline continued through the 1960s; by 1970, immigrants constituted less than 5 percent of the US population. Accordingly, the educational focus shifted from citizenship as such to America’s shared cultural inheritance.

Stanford’s educational evolution illustrates the trend. In 1935, Problems of Citizenship was replaced with a mandatory sequence in Western Civilization. A generation later, during 1960s’ campus protests, Western Civ classes were under attack; the sequence was abandoned in 1969.

After a decade without a common civics-related course, Stanford tried out a more inclusive multitrack Western Culture sequence. It morphed into Cultures, Ideas, Values, followed in the 1990s by Introduction to the Humanities. That was in turn replaced in 2012 by a smorgasbord of Thinking Matters courses, from which first-year students were asked to pick one. Civic education at Stanford had vanished into a Silicon Valley version of education for efficiency.

Meanwhile, however, faculty members were voicing concerns that without a civics-centered curriculum, Stanford’s undergraduate education was impoverished – and dangerously so given the growing political malaise. Some, with knowledge of Stanford’s earlier traditions, reflected on what had been lost. Others, cognizant of America’s changing role in the world and increasing demographic diversity, saw opportunities for a new approach to educating citizens. In 2021, the university senate unanimously approved a new sequence of three courses aimed at re­making the educational experience of first-year students.

The central course in the new sequence became Citizenship in the 21st Century. More advanced courses, building on Citizenship in the 21st Century, are now being offered through the Civics Initiative. Stanford’s recommitment to civic education builds on and has inspired simi­lar initiatives at other universities.

It is too early to predict a full-blown national movement for intensifying American civic education. But there are growing indications of an educational shift away from a single­ minded focus on efficiency, and toward promoting the knowledge and leadership of participative democratic citizens. Tomorrow’s reformers should take advantage of the lessons of the past while also pioneering new and innovative approaches that prepare citizens to rebuild the civic bargains by which democracy survives.

Knowledge and Approaches, Deep and Broad

As we are learning at Stanford, students differ widely in their readiness to engage with civic-related material. The content and approach of courses addressing democratic citizenship must be carefully designed to build a comprehensive body of knowledge and skills without developing into propagandistic cheerleading or deflationary defeatism. The knowledge and skills for an informed and participatory democracy must include, but also go beyond, constitutional mechanics.

In addition, young citizens and would-be citizens should receive a grounding in American political history to appreciate the origins of our democratic civic bargains, and in comparative political history to understand the different approaches to self-governance in other times and places as well as the reality of living under nondemocratic bosses. They must be trained in the critical and analytic tools necessary to make informed judgments about the pressing political issues of their day and participate in addressing them. Civic education must arm citizens to withstand the distractions and misinformation often offered by contemporary news and social media too.

Even the most robust K–12 and college-level curriculum is only one part of the learning that should extend over a citizen’s lifetime. In each of our case studies of long-surviving democracies, civic education was built into the cultural practices and expectations of the society. It began in childhood with stories and games, and continued through various forms of military and public service. The twenty-first-century analogs of those cultural practices are still lacking. Just as the formal courses in civic education now being devised in American universities differ profoundly in form and content from their predecessors, a dynamic and engaging twenty-first-century civic culture cannot simply restore past practices. But by the same token, a renewed civic culture must aim at the traditional goal of sustaining the conditions of democracy.

Diversity and the Ordering of Loyalties

We believe that the central thesis of our book — that citizens of any democracy must understand and commit to the essential conditions of the bargain they make to have boss-free self-governance — should inform civic learning. The necessities of security, basic welfare, defined citizenship, citizen-led institutions, and the behaviors of compromise and civic friendship must be learned and embraced by future generations.

Understanding and honoring the essential conditions of democracy are not the same, though, as demanding conformity to any political ideology. Research shows that enforcing ideological conformity frequently backfires — on both sides of a political divide. Still, we also believe that the director of the original Stanford Problems of Citizenship course was correct in telling his students that “we are engaged in a right ‘ordering of our several loyalties.’”

The ideal of citizenship — as participative membership in a common project of people governing themselves — need not be at the top of that ordering of loyalties. Yet we believe that to save democracy, it must be higher up than it is at present. It is the job of tomorrow’s civic education to make that case in a way that is not jingoistic, propagandistic, or tilted toward either end of the ideological spectrum.

A new approach to twenty-first-century civic education, both in formal schooling and the wider culture, must provide the basis for renewed civic friendship and the willingness to bargain with one another in good faith, without ideological absolutism. That will take time and good faith engagement — and ultimately compromise — by citizens from across the political spectrum. It will also require that our nation rethink the relationship between diversity, inclusion, a shared commitment to civic ideals, and a willingness to participate in identifying and promoting common goods.

Throughout this book we have argued that access to a diversity of experience, information, and knowledge is a prime source of democracy’s competitive advantage. Because of that, a successful democratic citizen body must be relatively large and socially diverse.

We have noted that the ratchet of civic membership tends toward more inclusion, and that democracy is put at risk when the ratchet is reversed. The historical trend is therefore toward a larger citizen body — one that is more diverse in origin, experience, and viewpoint. The question, then, is how diversity can accommodate the recognition that certain fundamental interests are those of the democratic community as a whole and a shared commitment to seeking the common good. As we have contended, without that shared commitment, democracy as self-government fails.

In recent years, many organizations and in some aspects of government policy, diversity has been reified in a way that makes seeking the common good more difficult. When institutions narrowly seek diversity predicated on race, ethnicity, gender, and sexual orientation, diversity and inclusion programs may implicitly reject the notion that individuals can and should share, or even aspire to share, important interests with others unlike them. Policies that focus intensely on racial, ethnic, and gender differences undermine democracy’s goal of citizens working together on shared civic projects, and making the bargains needed to enjoy boss-free self-governance.

Moreover, such policies may erode the productive diversity of experience and viewpoint that is essential for innovation. They can make it harder to see why good faith bargaining among those with different interests and goals is a condition of democracy.

The reification of diversity-promoting social identities also encourages the proliferation of demands for new group rights and protection against anything that might challenge those often fragile, reified identities. This decreases a willingness to compromise for the common good and increases tendencies to degrade civic friendship — both of which, we have argued, are essential conditions for maintaining democratic self-government. As we write today, we are encouraged that many organizations are now backing away from the trend of identitarian interpretations of diversity. We believe the change will enhance prospects for further renewal of civic education and the strengthening of democracy writ large.

A Process of Experimentation and Innovation

The current state of democratic malaise need not be fatal, but it ought to be recognized as an existential threat, comparable to external threats and internal conflicts that destroyed ancient democracies. That recognition can and should provoke a willingness to join together in response to the threat as well as embark on meaningful change in the form of a thoughtful process of experimentation, dialogue, and compromise. And that is, we believe, just how the renewal of civic education for our democracy might now best proceed.

New programs and attempts to educate young citizens are sprouting up across the country. As a citizenry, we must seize the opportunity to accelerate and expand those while also being patient not to declare too quickly or dogmatically the final best practice. In the coming years, civic educators should keep experimenting with new approaches, learning from one another and watching out for breakthroughs, while also consolidating the most successful content and methodologies that are having a positive impact. Over time, new standards and measures of success will evolve. Progress must come through learning by doing and citizens learning from one another.

No simple and standardized curriculum will suit the rich American ecology of K–12 or postsecondary education, nor the variety of local practices and priorities across our expansive nation, nor the diversity of civic-related programs already offered by hundreds of community-oriented organizations. Citizens, leaders, and educators in different constituencies will have their own ideas about what an adequate (or optimal) education for citizenship should be. Those differences must be taken into account as new curricula and participative practices evolve.

We believe that a range of coherent approaches — variously reflecting conservative, libertarian, liberal, or progressive viewpoints — could potentially support the seven essential conditions for democracy highlighted in this book. Citizenship-centered American history courses, for example, might be located at different points on a spectrum from a focus on structural injustices to the ideals and aspirations of the founders. The choice of which political thinkers and texts to study, and the degree of emphasis on social science methods, could also vary considerably.

Respect Core Principles of Democratic Engagement

Developing a new civic education, and following a process of experimentation and adaptation from differing viewpoints and approaches, will only be successful if it is pursued with a firm commitment by all to the deliberative principles inherent to civic friendship and good faith bargaining: open inquiry, critical reasoning, and lively but respectful debate in search of the best answers that can be embraced by the greatest number.

Civic education that becomes ideological or lopsidedly partisan shuts down freedom of thought and speech, thereby betraying democracy itself; those who cancel the viewpoints of others set themselves up as a boss. Tomorrow’s renewed civic education should frankly acknowledge the imperfection of past civic bargains — including America’s constitutional founding — but must back the values of freedom, equality, and civic dignity.

Whatever its trajectory, civic education must provide positive reasons for people to embrace the identity of the participatory citizen in today’s democracy. Ultimately good civic education answers the questions of why democratic citizenship is worth striving for and why its costs are worth paying.