The ‘Distant Music of Social Radicalism’: The Debate between Pelagius and Augustine of the 4th Century CE and its Relevance to Music Education

Abstract

This paper focuses on the Pelagian Debate of the late 4th Century CE between Augustine of Hippo and the British cleric Pelagius, and its little known or understood relevance to music education practice and scholarship. A transdisciplinary review of theological, historical, pedagogical, and musicological texts suggests that Augustinian notions of sin, goodness, and human nature reflect assumptions embedded in traditional classical music education paradigms. As a contrast, Pelagius’ notions of the importance of the “laity,” and criticism of church hierarchy, later suppressed and deemed heretical, can be related to tensions between amateur and professional musicians in music and education contexts. This paper will explore this debate, and Augustine’s victory, as a means of questioning assumptions embedded in music education discourse concerning talent, discipline, and human capacity for music. In this way, the debate is made relevant not only as a means of enhancing understanding of historical conceptions but also as a lens through which contemporary music education might be interrogated.

Introduction

This paper focuses on the little known or understood relevance to music and education of the Pelagian Debate of the late 4th Century CE between Augustine of Hippo and the British cleric Pelagius. This study is part of a larger work using historical lenses to interrogate assumptions in modern music education in such a way as to move beyond traditional paradigms and disciplinary boundaries. Through a review of theological, historical, pedagogical, and musicological texts, this paper will demonstrate that the debate of Pelagius and Augustine has potent relevance to broader questions in contemporary music education.

The Pelagian Debate represents a turning point in both religious and educational history, ¹ at its heart a disagreement about the nature of free will, original sin, and the role of the church. ² In brief, Augustine, the Bishop of Hippo, argued that all humans are sinful from birth, tainted by the original sin of Eve and by the sinful act which brought about our own births. ³ He advocated for the necessary role of the church as an institution in overcoming this original sin, and as a requisite for any goodness that might emerge from its followers. Pelagius, on the other hand, was a proponent of a very different philosophy: that bad habits or problems in an individual were separate from the basic personality. No matter how “bad” a person was, he or she was never irredeemable. ⁴ He was also critical of the church as an institution, and what he saw as problematic and unchristian behaviour by those in power within its hierarchy. He was an advocate for the layperson that was, in his opinion, able to be a good Christian without the intervention of the church. Fitch, referencing Brown, ⁵ characterises these early philosophies as the “‘distant music’ of […] social radicalism”. ⁶ Where Augustine was conservative in his views, defending the hierarchical system of which he was a key part, Pelagius’ radical social philosophy directly threatened the legitimacy of those systems. Their argument is documented largely through Augustine’s own writings in defence of his position and attacking that of Pelagius. The debate concluded with Pelagius excommunicated as a heretic, after which his views were actively suppressed and deemed heretical by Augustine and others, and he subsequently disappeared from the historical record.

As the victor, Augustine became one of the most influential theologians in the history of Christianity. The Pelagian Debate echoes within the political debates of the current day: “[w]henever a political radical is accused of having a naive concept of human nature, or of designing an ideal polity for angels not humans, then there is an echo of the dispute between Pelagius and Augustine.” ⁷ Despite this, many educators and scholars remain unaware of it as a historical turning point, and unaware of its relevance and potential usefulness as a lens for today’s discourse.

This paper will argue that Augustinian notions of original sin, his view of the importance of church institutions and hierarchy, and his general views on music and human nature, are echoed in modern notions of talent and discipline believed to be required for musical achievement and excellence. As a contrast, Pelagius’ belief in the importance of the “laity,” and his criticism of church hierarchy, can be related to tensions between amateur and professional musicians, and to the role that today’s formal music institutions play in levels of engagement (or lack of engagement) in music making by the general public.

The relevance of theology to music education is a field of growing interest and scholarship. ⁸ According to Røyseng and Varkøy, societal trends in culture and religion are inseparable from music education discourse and practice, forming the values with which music is legitimised. ⁹ Researchers concerned with the history of music education note the lack of proper investigation of religion in relation to music education, and criticise current music educationists for being ignorant of the influence of religious philosophies. ¹⁰ It can be argued that few practicing educators have the opportunity to consider the ramifications of religious thought in their practice.

The Pelagian Debate is a particularly potent example of two diametrically opposed philosophies concerning the most basic aspects of human nature, which had significant ramifications at the time. The impact of such a debate on modern music education is complex and would require a much longer study to track its influence from the time of the debate to the present day. The purpose of this paper is instead to expose music educators to this historical episode as a means of interrogating our own assumptions about the basic nature and potential of our students. It is the hope that this study might act as a starting point for readers unfamiliar with this topic to explore the complex role of theology in music education.

I was first alerted to the significance of Augustine, and his debate with Pelagius, in a recorded lecture by medical doctor and philosopher John Diamond. Diamond was specifically concerned with the Pelagian Debate in terms of its impact on underlying social psychology, and the belief in innate ‘goodness’ or ‘badness’ inherited from the mother’s womb that stems from Augustinian philosophy. ¹¹ This study borrows Diamond’s methods and builds upon his original interrogation by applying the debate specifically to conceptions in music education.

This research is grounded in transdisciplinary methodology, ¹² where disciplinary-specific knowledge, such as this 4th Century debate, is applied as a lens to interpret and interrogate real world problems, such as those in music education. ¹³ This study began with an exploration of available primary sources, particularly the writings of Augustine articulating his own philosophies as well as writing in opposition of Pelagius’ ideas. This also included an examination of Augustine’s changing views on music and education. Comparatively few examples of Pelagius’ own writings survive, but they are augmented by writings of his followers, and Augustine’s summaries of Pelagius’ philosophies (albeit from a negative point of view). Following the analysis of these primary sources, modern scholarship concerning the impact and importance of this debate were sought, followed by interpretations of the meaning and impact as regards music and education specifically. This scholarly material was then applied to modern debates and tensions in music education, stemming from both scholarly research and practiced-based knowledge as a music educator, teacher trainer, and facilitator of general community music making for wellbeing.

Part 1 of this paper provides a brief summary of the social and political context of the debate, the contrasting views of Augustine and Pelagius, and the outcome of their debate. Part 2 describes how this debate, and its consequences, resonates with current music education practice and discourse, and how it might be used to interrogate our own conceptions of talent, discipline and goodness in the classroom and in scholarship.

Part 1: The Pelagian Debate

The Context

The political and economic context of Rome and the Christian church at the turn of the 4th and 5th centuries CE is central to the outcomes of the Pelagian debate and formed the basis for decisions made by the church and its supporters during this period.^14,15

The institutions of Rome were failing, and for the first time in centuries, the city of Rome itself was under attack, threatened by the Visigoths from the north. ¹⁶ The church was in its early stages, and at this point had not yet formed a single and unified authority, hence the emergence of different ideas and opinions amongst its clergy and laity. ¹⁷ Where Pelagius represented the educated Christian laity, Augustine was a member of the formal church hierarchy in his role as Bishop of Hippo. ¹⁸ Pelagius’ views promoted the abilities of the average person, the laity, independent of the church as an institution; Augustine, on the other hand, specifically advocated for the necessity of the church in its formal and hierarchical state. ¹⁹ The advocacy for the institution of the church over the laity is perhaps analogous to the advocacy for music specialists, often trained in music institutions, over the generalist teacher or “lay-person.”

The rich and powerful of Rome were at risk of losing property and power due to the threat of the Visigoths. Pelagius’ ascetic philosophies encouraged individuals to dispense with wealth and undertake good works amongst their fellow Christians, further threatening their wealth and power:

Accounts of the controversy reveal two self-interested motives for the church hierarchy to reject the Pelagic doctrine: (1) the Pelagic view would have undermined the authority of the church hierarchy; and (2) by making greater demands for moral conduct, it would have raised the ‘cost’ of being a Christian and thereby discouraged growth in church membership, particularly among the Roman upper class. ²⁰

There were many theories and philosophies emerging in this early period of the church’s history, in which Pelagius was a “characteristic representative of an age which saw much creative thought in theology amid rapid decay of social institutions.” ²¹ Most of these alternative voices have since been forgotten and were purposefully and actively suppressed by those who emerged from the debates victorious: “[w]hat is now taken to be unquestionably orthodox was in the late 4th century still just one option amongst many… it is only in retrospect that it is Pelagius and not Augustine who appears the obvious heretic.” ²² We only know of Pelagius because of Augustine’s writings against his philosophies, and for hundreds of years he has been referred to as a heretic, rather than one voice among many at a time of much debate and discussion. ²³

Augustine

Augustine (354-430 CE), Bishop of Hippo, is one of the founding fathers of the Christian church, the generation of men after the apostles who laid the foundations of the subsequent church. ²⁴ He is cited as one of the most influential individuals on the Christian religion after St Paul. ²⁵ Born to a Christian mother and a pagan father in northern Africa in 354 CE, he converted to Christianity at age 31 after some years following a range of other philosophical and theological routes, including Platonism. ²⁶ He became Bishop of Hippo at age 42, after which he wrote influential texts such as Confessions and City of God. ²⁷

Augustine’s theology was based on a belief that all humans are sinful from birth, tainted by the original sin of Eve and by the sinful act which brought about our own births, and therefore “incapable of goodness on their own … all are always already implicated in Adam’s crime, and thus guilty.” ²⁸ Augustine’s views about original sin were articulated most clearly during and after his debate with Pelagius and his followers. ²⁹ He argued that the human will “can both decline from good to do evil, which takes place when it freely chooses, and can also escape the evil and do good, which takes place only by divine assistance.” ³⁰ To paraphrase, if a person is sinful, it is because that person is basically sinful and is therefore responsible for their behaviour, whereas it is God who is responsible for any evidence of goodness. This attitude absolves the church of responsibility for those who are guilty of wrongdoing, whilst advocating its necessity and responsibility for any goodness that emerges from its followers. This attitude is echoed in music education in the tendency for a student’s success to be claimed as a result of good teaching, whereas their failures tend to be blamed on the student’s own shortcomings.

Augustine argued that only God’s grace could save us from the inheritance of original sin, yet God’s grace could not be earned, only bestowed by God. ³¹ This approach to sin enhanced the importance of the church as an institution, confirming the “predestination of the elect,” ³² those members of the church hierarchy, such as Augustine himself, who were those bestowed upon by God.

Augustine’s greatest influence on the Christian religion may be the subsequent monolithic philosophy of orthodox Christianity, the foundation of the unquestioned authority of a unified institution with an agreed upon message: “Augustine has worked out a distinctive Christian moral theory that requires auctoritas [authority] to have a central place in the account of the soul’s movement from faith to understanding.” ³³ Augustine referred to this auctoritas as the “medicine of the soul.” ³⁴ The unquestioned authority of the church became confounded with religious belief: to be a Christian was to submit to the church as an institutional power without question.

Augustine’s influence spread beyond religion into all aspects of society, particularly education and the arts, because his philosophy was founded upon the idea that all aspects of human life, for all people, should come under the authority of the church. Thus Augustine was “the dominant voice or the one most heeded in the classroom.” ³⁵ One of the reasons for the overwhelming success of his philosophies is that Augustine’s Christianity did not discriminate: everyone should submit to the authority of the church whether they “be educated or slow witted, a citizen or a stranger, a rich man or a poor man … of this or that age or sex.” ³⁶ Despite Augustine’s somewhat democratic attitude, many of the benefits from Augustine’s arguments were also felt by the rich and powerful, hence their support for his cause.

Augustine was the first to introduce an idea of a strictly Christian education, including Christian content, for children and young people: “[w]hat is required, said the young Augustine, is a training in both the knowledge of the proper end and the knowledge of the right method that could bring that end into actuality.” ³⁷

Since music was a central element in the curriculum espoused by Augustine and his contemporaries, ³⁸ institutional scrutiny of the teaching of music exists substantially in his writings, much as it did in the writings of Plato. Augustine, however, had a complicated relationship with music itself, and a discussion of his own feelings on music sheds light on his subsequent approach to music education:

Augustine … whose early love of music caused much tortured self-questioning after his conversion, was at one time disposed to banish all music not only from his own ears, but from the Church as a whole. The only safe course, he decided, was to restrict the chant … to a type of melody 'nearer to speaking than singing’. ³⁹

The sensual pleasure naturally derived from music was of great concern to Augustine, finding it “improper and disgraceful.” ⁴⁰ In order to include music in the curriculum in a satisfactorily non-sensual way, and to employ music in the service of Christian rituals, he encouraged a theoretical and cerebral view of music that downplayed its pleasurable aspects. Sensual pleasure in music was characterised as “inferior to the perception of harmony and unity,” ⁴¹ a “lower beauty” which “soils the soul.” ⁴² He advocated for restricted chanting, yet even this could seem sensually beautiful, and move Augustine to those feelings he so abhorred in himself: “when it befalls me to be more moved with the voice than the words sung, I confess to have sinned penally, and then had rather not hear music.” ⁴³ Augustine’s theoretical and safe study of music involved an “ordered sequence of contemplation, moving from linguistic to mathematically based studies, [where] the mind could be trained to recognise the elementary principles of theology.” ⁴⁴ In terms of music as we understand it today, Augustine’s curriculum was more concerned with science and acoustics than with the making of music itself, divorcing the study of the elements of music from the sounds of music that had the potential to incite sin. ⁴⁵

Augustine “did much to lay the foundations for the way the West subsequently thought about education, about the nature of humanity, and about how man can be cultivated so as to achieve his end.” ⁴⁶ For those not already aware of his significance, the magnitude of his influence is easy to overlook, partly because his influence is embedded within the very fabric of our culture and the way we think about our place in the world: “as a civilisation we now feel ourselves on the other side of the mountain of Augustine’s influence, living as we do, in its shadow.” ⁴⁷ As a society we are not all fully aware of the existence of such a “shadow,” let alone the mountainous influence that may be casting it.

Pelagius

Pelagius (c. 360-420 CE) was an educated man born in Britain, a theologian who existed outside the formal church hierarchy, often referred to as a monk or ascetic (his name may refer to his origins ‘over the sea’ in Britain, a Latinised form of the Greek Πελάγιος meaning ‘of the sea’ ⁴⁸ ). ⁴⁹ He lived in Rome, later fleeing the city before the Visigoths who threatened Rome from the north. ⁵⁰ Pelagius’ philosophy, discussed in his De Natura, was based on the belief that man could be sinless, thereby sparking direct comment and criticism from Augustine, who was at this time Bishop of Hippo in northern Africa. ⁵¹

Pelagius believed that bad habits or problems in an individual were separate from the basic personality: no matter how “bad” a person was, he or she was never irredeemable. ⁵² He argued logically that since God is good, then the human beings God created must also, therefore, be basically good:

Who made man's spirit? God, without a doubt. Who created the flesh? The same God, I suppose. Is the God good who created both? Nobody doubts it. Are not both good, since the good Creator made them? It must be confessed that they are. If, therefore, both the spirit is good, and the flesh is good, as made by the good Creator, how can it be that the two good things should be contrary to one another? ⁵³

Augustine, on the other hand, believed that badness was insidious and crept into the recesses of a personality, becoming internalised. ⁵⁴ Pelagius did not believe individuals are all sinful from birth, “guilty through the sexual intercourse of our parents at the moment of procreation” as did Augustine. ⁵⁵ Pelagius instead cited societal and environmental factors as a cause for sinful behaviour, believing in the human capacity for goodness – a belief that was directly criticised by Augustine: “[t]he negative understandings of Pelagian thinking, particular as relates to a belief in the innate goodness of humans, as being naive and unchristian, stems from Augustine.” ⁵⁶

The Pelagian view prioritised the aspiration towards perfection above perfection itself ⁵⁷ – pedagogically similar to a focus on process rather than product. Augustine’s concern with Pelagius’ philosophies centred on the potential of individuals to achieve goodness without the help of the Church as an institution, and that individuals could avoid sin through their own capacities. ⁵⁸ Pelagius refuted the claims of heresy made by those such as Augustine, and “accused his enemies of tolerating immoral behaviour within Christianity by exaggerating the effect of original sin.” ⁵⁹ Pelagius believed that those who wished to maintain their money and power used original sin as the excuse for sinful behaviours that could subsequently be pardoned by the church for a price, rather than taking personal responsibility.

An anonymous follower of Pelagius, in a letter entitled On Riches, articulated Pelagius’ views on money: “[g]et rid of the rich man, and you will not be able to find a poor one. Let no man have more than he really needs, and everyone will have as much as they need, since the few who are rich are the reason for the many who are poor.” ⁶⁰ It was possibly after this letter that the Pelagian community were “banished from Rome as a threat to peace.” ⁶¹ Pelagius had a sterner view of Christianity, in that he did not approve of excusing bad behaviour, especially within the church hierarchy. Fitch characterizes the early church as the “‘distant music’ of […] social radicalism” ⁶² represented by Pelagian thought, in contrast to the later institution of the Christian church, represented by Augustine’s approaches.

Fitch suggests that while radical political movements may have existed as early as Pelagius’ time, as On Riches suggests, there is little evidence remaining because these ideas were later characterised as heretical, as they undermined institutional power. ⁶³ This attitude against reform is repeated in the vehement opposition to alternative educational philosophies and approaches to music and education that were found in the 20th century. ⁶⁴

The Outcome

Pelagius’ view “that human nature alone can suffice to perform good works perfectly and to fulfill the commandments of God” ⁶⁵ was felt by some of the rich and powerful inside the church hierarchy, such as Augustine, ⁶⁶ as a profound attack. A Pelagian understanding of “sin,” wherein all are born innocent, and where sinful behaviour is a result of socialization, undermined the need for the church and its representatives as the absolvers of personal sin. ⁶⁷ The term iniquitate was used at this time to refer to sinful and ‘grossly unbalanced’ behaviour: however, Morris translates iniquitate as “oppression,” ⁶⁸ supporting Pelagius’ social and possibly political view of sin. Pelagius’ followers did not believe that God bestowed inequality, but rather that it was a social problem that could be addressed with Christian approaches. ⁶⁹ The notion that “sin” is a personal evil rather than a socially constructed imbalance stems from Augustine.

Pelagius advocated a strict set of ideals to be enacted and observed by adherents to Christianity as he defined it, believing as he did in the human capacity for goodness. Those bishops who supported Pelagius felt that Augustine’s attitudes, on the other hand, would not support newly baptised Christians, who had been promised the opportunity to live better lives: “as Augustine presented it, the great rite of baptism was no more than a superficial ‘shaving’ of sin: it left the Christian with roots and stubble that would only too soon grow again.” ⁷⁰ Augustine’s attitudes proved to be immensely successful, however, in terms of maintaining a mass of devoted followers of the church as an institution. Augustine spoke of the need for lifelong ‘convalescence’ within the church, enticing followers into a lifetime contract. ⁷¹ Augustine’s arguments “gave the Catholic Church carte blanche to swallow Roman society as a whole.” ⁷²

The Roman aristocracy did not support Pelagius, in part because he suggested that neither power nor money was necessary for becoming a good Christian. ⁷³ Augustine gave the aristocracy the excuse they needed to maintain their wealth and status: “[w]ith the passing of this vision the clergy asserted control. The Church became in practice less than the community of all spiritually equal Christians. It became an institution with all its hierarchies and powers, rather than a being-together.” ⁷⁴

Pelagius was eventually excommunicated in 418 CE and declared a heretic. ⁷⁵ He soon after disappeared from all historical and literary records, due to the Church’s subsequent process of quashing supporters of his views who were subject to penal sanctions imposed by the Pope. ⁷⁶

In order to solidify the victory, “Augustine’s allies bribed imperial cavalry commanders with 80 Numidian stallions.” ⁷⁷ Political power structures had become linked to the church in such a way as to make it necessary for Christian believers to adopt a philosophy that made sense of such a relationship:

Serious believers concerned primarily with the deeper questions of theology, as well as those concerned with political advantage, could find in Augustine’s theological legacy ways of making sense out of a situation in which church and state had become inextricably linked. ⁷⁸

In the era after the Pelagian debate the pluralistic and flexible religious environment that had once characterized Ancient Greek and Roman society had vanished, replaced by a unified institutional authority: “[w]e must remember that there never was an agreed-upon version of any Greek myth, because there was no text (like the Bible) with sacred authority and no organization (like the Christian church) to establish an official version.” ⁷⁹ The debate between Pelagius and Augustine marks the beginning of a new and uniform approach to education, controlled by the Christian church.

Part 2: Relevance to Music Education Today

The Pelagian Debate offers modern music educators with a particularly potent discourse concerning the most basic aspects of human character. While the content and context of the debate may seem remote to us in music education today, it is a powerful lens through which we can question our own understanding of our students’ potential, the role of formalized music education, and the role of our music institutions. We can also explore the nature of the threat felt by Augustine, the attitudes and processes that ensured Pelagius’ radical views were quashed, and how that might echo the ways in which new musical and educational ideas can be seen as a threat by adherents to more traditional paradigms.

It can also be argued that Augustine, if not Pelagius, has had a profound impact, however complex and indirect, upon our own experiences and understandings as music educators today. Augustine shaped society and education to a profound degree. Where ancient Greek and Roman education was mainly limited to the sons (and daughters) of the aristocracy, ⁸⁰ Christian theology encompassed all sectors of society, irrespective of wealth, social status, or nationality. Education became available to all through the teachings of the Bible at home or in church services. ⁸¹ A Christian education, therefore, influenced society at every socio-economic level.

In the light of Augustine’s widespread impact, it is tempting to suggest that “Pelagic plans for reform might have affected the whole structure of the Western Empire.” ⁸² This is unlikely, however, as Brown also notes that Pelagius was not interested in world domination, nor in the total control of society by the church, as Augustine was. ⁸³ Pelagius was interested in the “laity,” the community of baptised Christian citizens, rather than those within the formal structures of the church hierarchy. After Pelagius’ excommunication, the import of his “laity” had “sunk into the background.” ⁸⁴ Western society as a whole, and therefore the education system, were under the all-pervasive and ever-present influence of Augustinian thinking. The devaluation of the layperson is analogous to the focus of specialization over generalization in the teaching and practice of the arts, arguments central to much modern music education advocacy and discourse. The lasting impact of the Pelagian Debate lies less in the failure of Pelagius, and more in the subsequently overwhelming and total dominance of Augustine that has imbued education and musical practice ever since.

Augustine’s teachings are specifically pertinent to the role of corporal punishment in education, owing in part to his theological dominance of his own and later periods, “so it is not surprising that his views on corporal punishment were the orthodoxy for the next 1000 years.” ⁸⁵ There is disagreement in the literature, however, about the exact nature of Augustine’s views of violence inflicted on children. On the one hand, Kennell argues that Augustine was in favor of beatings for educational and theological purposes, ⁸⁶ yet Castle argues that, owing to Augustine’s painful memories of beatings in his childhood, he was against the use of violence. ⁸⁷ They are both in fact correct, depending on which period of Augustine’s life one is referring to, whether before or after his conversion to Christianity. Augustine bemoaned his childhood beatings:

Surely, Lord, there is no one spelled in mind or so insensitive … as to make light of the racks and hooks and other torture instruments while truly loving those who are in such bitter fear of them. Yet my parents seemed amused at the torments inflicted upon me as a boy by my masters. ⁸⁸

In a seeming condemnation of brutality, he argues “free curiosity is of more value in learning than harsh discipline.” ⁸⁹ This attitude changes, however, after his conversion to Christianity, when:

… he became a firm advocate of corporal punishment. The father who ‘denies discipline is cruel … when a father beats his son, he loves him’. In the eyes of God, there was no distinction between slave and free man. Everyone sins; everyone is in servitude; and children must be whipped to save them from damnation. ⁹⁰

Pelagius, in contrast, held the view that punishment of sin was not logical – that sinning was its own punishment: “[t]he very matter of sin is its punishment, if the sinner is so much weakened that he commits more sins.” ⁹¹ The long history of pain and suffering associated with learning music at a high level resonates with beliefs and assumptions to be found in Augustine’s writings. ⁹²

Another issue explored in this debate relates to the challenges of examining, or criticizing, certain codified forms of music education practice, which can be regarded as forms of orthodoxy in an Augustinian sense. The connection between educational and theological discourse is evident in literature today, expressed (at times unwittingly) in the language of those defending historical methodologies. Duerksen, for example, notes the similarities in the arguments between the fundamental Christian right and those defending traditional methodologies. ⁹³ She refers to the Kodály method as a “sacred text,” ⁹⁴ whereby any critical discussion invites condemnation from its adherents, despite recommendations from scholars who feel that critical reflection on a methodology such as this is necessary in order to “test its current validity.” ⁹⁵

Paul employs language reminiscent of religious debate when describing problematic tendencies in music institutions:

The tendency for institutions and beliefs to become “sacred” and “cherished” and the thinking that critiques them conceptualized as “dangerous”, “subversive”, or at least “disturbing” and “unsettling,” is probably as strong as it has ever been. Habits, customs, and faiths become deeply embedded in how we define ourselves, and intolerance, censorship, and oppression never seem to be such by those who carry them out in the name of “true belief”. ⁹⁶

Regelski explores the tendency towards religious terms and attitudes of some music educators, where ‘converting’, ‘salvation’, ‘redemption’, ‘virtue’ and ‘discipline’ are to be found in the music classroom:

… music teachers in schools persist … in what may be called an attempt at “converting” students … an attempt at redemption where students can be restored to musical virtue … this conversion is most often attempted by teaching music as a “discipline.” ⁹⁷

Fr. Benito Jerónimo Feijoo (1676-1764) describes the desperate adherence to formal musical systems by music professors, and the cries of heresy and damnation when established music systems are threatened or shown to be incomplete or limited in scope:

Music has a system formed of various rules which its professors look upon as complete; therefore, when some one of them is violated, the professors damn the composition as defective … imperfection in the system is understood only by composers of soaring inspiration … composers of inferior competence cry out that this is heresy. ⁹⁸

The unconscious impact of punishment and cruelty is incorporated into common language of music education, such as “discipline.” The etymology and definition of the term sheds light on the historical relationship between education, religious orthodoxy and punishment in education. Section I, subsections 1 and 2 of the Oxford English Dictionary definition of ‘discipline’ indicates these early embedded relationships:

Relating to punishment

1. Christian Church. Punishment or chastisement either imposed by ecclesiastical authority or voluntarily undertaken as penance; esp. mortification of the flesh (as by fasting, scourging, etc.) as a token of repentance and as a means of satisfaction for sin …

2. gen. Punishment (esp. physical punishment) imposed with the intention of controlling or correcting future behaviour; castigation for a misdemeanour or transgression, usually with the implication of being salutary to the recipient; chastisement. ⁹⁹

The need to ‘correct future behaviour’ may echo the expectation in certain music education paradigms of punishing hours of solo practice and rehearsal, to the point of self-inflicted pain and injury.

Transdisciplinary research and educational approaches can be seen to attack the historic strictures of ‘discipline’ that are still embedded in our education system. Those who advocate for transdisciplinarity, such as Leavy ¹⁰⁰ and Nicolescu ¹⁰¹ use language reminiscent of those who seek to remove themselves from the formal bounds imposed by unnamed authorities.

Conclusion

The Pelagian Debate provides us with a potent framework to interrogate established and systemic attitudes toward music and education. It offers modern music educators an opportunity to question our own understanding of our students’ potential, the role of formalised music education, and the role of our music institutions. This historical period saw the firm establishment of a single authoritative institution and the disappearance of an autonomous laity. The individual’s ability and potential to learn and to be a good citizen without assistance from the institution of the Church was devalued and even seen to be heretical. Pelagius’ radical ideas were seen as a serious threat to existing power structures, ideas overcome by Augustine through Pelagius’ excommunication. This allows us to reflect on the ways in which new musical and educational ideas, such as those that do not require the intervention of a music specialist, might be felt as a threat to more traditional paradigms.

Augustine’s doctrines resonate with common aspects of traditional and codified paradigms of music education: the goodness he believed to be ordained by God is reminiscent of the idea of “talent” that is “given” to a lucky few; the belief in universal sin from birth that is overcome only through punishment and suffering can be found in the need for practice, determination, and “discipline” in order to succeed as a technically proficient musician; the overarching and unquestioned authority of the church foreshadows the priority given to the specialist, the musical expert, and the music institution, as well as the power bestowed upon those experts by their students and the general public. This debate also causes us to reflect on the embedded level of discomfort, even pain, seen as necessary to the proper learning of music. This is still felt by individuals who suffer fear in relation to music making. These unpleasant tendencies in music education are a far cry from the comforting and healing role music is said to play in many societies and contexts.

The Pelagian Debate is an example of an alternative view that was suppressed because it undermined authority. Pelagius was deemed a heretic, rather than merely a dissenting voice with a different approach to living as a Christian. The tendency to suppress alternative viewpoints, to cry “heresy” when traditional approaches are questioned, and to use the language of orthodoxy to justify those in power and authority, are common themes in the history of music education. Revealing the themes of these historical debates and how they continue to impact our education system may allow teachers, students, and parents to interrogate common assumptions, with a view to improving musical outcomes toward a healthier musical society.