Abstract
The notion of responsibility makes a significant appearance in a range of Westernised education policy documents concerned with student conduct, welfare and values. While policies may differ in the extent to which responsibility is explicitly defined or generally assumed, most seem to emphasise an ideal social subject who is accountable, self-regulating and actively contributing to civic life. Drawing on insights from Michel Foucault, Emmanuel Levinas and Judith Butler, I argue that the emphasis on neoliberal and neoconservative discourses in Australian educational policy can work to undermine more unconditional forms of responsibility grounded in notions of ethics, care and recognition of the other.
Introduction
In a globalised world where environmental, cultural, demographic, political and economic issues increasingly surpass national boundaries (Bottery, 2006), individual responsibility is internationally recognised by governments as a quality that will enable a sharper competitive edge in the global knowledge economy and/or better equip nations to respond to global crises (Apple, 2010). Such a global focus on responsibility has made its way into national education policies in an effort to shape a ‘responsible’ future workforce who can contribute ‘productively’ to the ‘common good’.
This article presents findings from a broader programme of research interested in how discourses embedded in education policy and mediated through principal and teacher pedagogy work to shape upper-primary students’ understandings and experiences of responsibility for self and others. Here, I focus on a critical examination of national and state (New South Wales (NSW)) government school education policies, in order to consider how student responsibility is constructed in the broader socio-political context of Australia. These policies were chosen based on their explicit engagement with the notion of student ‘responsibility’ and their active status of implementation as indicated by the links provided on updated government websites. The key national education policies analysed in this article are the National framework for values education in Australian schools (Department of Education Science and Training (DEST), 2005) and the Melbourne Declaration on educational goals for young Australians (Ministerial Council on Education, Employment, Training and Youth Affairs (MCEETYA), 2008), while relevant NSW state education policies include Student welfare policy (NSW Department of School Education Student Welfare Directorate (NSW DSESWD), 1996), 1 Student discipline in government schools (NSW Department of Education and Training (NSW DET), 2006) 2 and Values in NSW public schools (NSW DET, 2004).
Drawing on the theoretical insights of Michel Foucault, Emmanuel Levinas and Judith Butler to inform the poststructural discourse analysis of this data, I aim to problematise the emphasis on neoliberal and neoconservative discourses in educational policy and argue that such discourses can work to undermine more unconditional forms of responsibility grounded in notions of ethics, care and recognition of the other. The policy context in which such discourses work to shape definitions of responsibility will now be reviewed.
Responsibility in the policy context
As noted by Stephen Ball (1993), a policy is constructed and interpreted in complex, contested and dynamic ways and therefore ‘
The neoliberal emphasis on efficiency, privatisation, marketisation and individualism has reconfigured education into a marketplace where students are redefined as ‘consumers’ who are responsible for making choices that will benefit themselves (Apple, 2005; Wilkins, 2010). In other words, responsibility has become privatised (Ilcan, 2009) or ‘individualised’ (Miller and Rose, 2008: 91) so that schools are seen as sites in which students should be learning how to be responsible for their own conduct and learning. This emphasis on responsibility for individual choices and success has resulted in ‘… a disquiet that traditional community values and cohesion [a]re breaking down’ (Macintyre and Simpson, 2009: 123). The rationale is that individual freedom, if left un-checked, could potentially threaten the interests of the ‘common good’.
In order to address such concerns, a neoconservative emphasis has been placed on a return to standard knowledge and traditional values (Apple, 2005; Grossman, 2009; Ozga, 2009). Therefore, responsibility for both self and others is often represented as a standardised educational goal or value in national policy agendas across the globe – particularly those relating to democratic citizenship and character education initiatives (Ailwood et al., 2011; Winton, 2010). While such initiatives may aim to develop ‘good’ character for ‘good’ citizenship (Althorf and Berkowitz, 2006), in reality they are often ‘placebos’ (Gillborn, 2006) or ‘political spectacle[s]’ (Winton, 2010: 350) that mask, exacerbate or do little to improve social justice issues (Gillies, 2008) or encourage taking responsibility for marginalised others.
Rather than passively accepting the rhetorical ‘spin’ of such policies as common sense, the position taken here is that it is necessary to critique how and why such definitions of responsibility have been constructed in the ways that they have. In the following section of the article, I consider how poststructural theory might be used to inform better understandings of the power relations shaping constructions of ‘responsibility’ within Australian education policies.
Theoretical insights for policy analysis
This article is informed by the theoretical insights of Michel Foucault, Emmanuel Levinas and Judith Butler. These theorists could be considered poststructural in the sense that they engage with the social construction of ethical responsibility and subvert traditional understandings of norm-based ethics at the macro level in order to redefine responsibility as an ethical relation between self and other at the micro level.
As a key aim of educational institutions is ‘… managing others and teaching them to manage themselves’ (Foucault, 1984: 370), then Foucauldian conceptualisations such as ‘technologies of control’ and ‘techniques of self’ are particularly useful in understanding the construction of responsible subjectivities via Australian education policies. ‘Technologies of control’ are understood here as externally imposed by governing bodies in order to ‘structure the possible field of action of others’ (Foucault, 2002: 341). Individuals are therefore required to regulate themselves in productive, normative and responsible ways through ‘techniques of self’ or … the procedures, which no doubt exist in every civilisation, suggested or prescribed to individuals in order to determine their identity, maintain it, or transform it in terms of a certain number of ends, through relations of self-mastery or self-knowledge. (Foucault, 2000: 87)
Individuals therefore have the agency to govern themselves, but only within a constrained ‘field of possibilities’ (Foucault, 2002: 341) and in relation to others ‘… such as one finds in pedagogy, behaviour counseling, spiritual direction, the prescription of a model for living, and so on’ (Foucault, 2000: 88) – or in education policy documents.
Levinas (2006) similarly acknowledges how universal or social laws ‘[govern] the other’s winks and smiles’ (p. 20), are drawn on by institutions ‘empowered to judge’ (p. 198) and can be resisted by the individual who has free will and ‘[p]owers of the unique’ (p. 177) resources at their disposal. However, Levinas (2006) places more emphasis on the individual subject’s ethical responsibility for the vulnerability of the Other which occurs at the dyadic face-to-face level. This ethical responsibility is a preontological call, demand, obligation or duty requiring a response – whether this be to heed or ignore the Other. From a Levinasian perspective, taking ethical responsibility for the Other involves non-indifference, guilt, (pure) love, care and concern (Levinas, 2006; Raffoul, 2010).
The work of Judith Butler (1997, 2004, 2005) brings Foucauldian questions of governmentality into productive dialogue with Levinasian questions of vulnerability and ambivalence. Extending both perspectives, Butler especially considers how ‘regimes of truth’ (in the sense articulated in Foucault’s work) through ‘performatives’ impact on what Levinas refers to as the recognisability or intelligibility of ‘the Face of the other’ for whom we must take responsibility. Butler (1997, 2005) applies the term ‘performative’ to describe how utterances/speech/terms ritualistically act on subjects by having ‘social power not only to regulate bodies, but to form them as well’ (pp. 158–159) according to norms that ‘govern the humanely recognisable’ (p. 36). In other words, if we do not recognise someone as a vulnerable human being in need of our assistance, we are less likely to take responsibility for that individual.
By drawing on theorists who engage with the social construction of responsibility, it was possible to deconstruct taken-for-granted assumptions in Australian education policy. A poststructural discourse analysis of education policy was therefore undertaken in order to develop a nuanced understanding of the social and political contexts within which educational discourses of student responsibility are produced and negotiated.
Discourse analysis of education policy
Discourses are ‘… practices for producing meaning, forming subjects and regulating conduct within particular societies and institutions, at particular historical times’ (MacLure, 2003: Appendix 1). The power and influence of these discourses are based on their acceptance as ‘common-sense’ truths to be upheld by the general populace. As noted by Foucault (2002), ‘[e]ach society has its regime of truth, its “general politics” of truth – that is, the types of discourse it accepts and makes function as true …’ (p. 131). In relation to the educational context, ‘… any system of education is a political way of maintaining or modifying the appropriation of discourses, along with the knowledges and powers which they carry’ (Foucault, 1984 – cited in Fairclough, 1992: 51). Educational texts, in particular, govern educational understanding and practice – particularly education policies which could be described as a ‘formation’ of discourses.
Applying a ‘Foucauldian optic’ to policy analysis, Bendix-Petersen (2015) suggests that policies are discursive formations which are ‘… both bounded and can be composed of multiple and even competing discourses’ (p. 66). As ‘[n]ot all discourses are equal’, some of these discourses have more ‘weight’ than others (Bendix-Petersen, 2015: 67). These dominant discourses are practices that shape meaning-making, conduct and subjectivity in normative ways and therefore involve rendering familiar or common-sense understandings as ‘strange’ (Gee, 2005: 102) in order to explore the ways power operates to shape the self and the social.
Therefore, I undertook a discourse analysis of education policies in order to identify and problematise dominant discourses or taken-for-granted assumptions about what responsibility is and which students are responsible or not. As outlined previously, two of the key discourses shaping definitions of student responsibility in Australian school education policy are neoliberalism and neoconservatism and will be the focus of the following discussion.
Living ‘fulfilling, productive and responsible lives’: Responsibility and discourses of neoliberalism
The increasing influence of neoliberal discourses on contemporary society is evident in Australian educational policy documents through an emphasis on productivity, effective management and accountability. Here, responsibility is largely individualised under the condition that it is used to further national interests.
Productivity is particularly referred to in the MCEETYA (2008) Melbourne declaration on educational goals for young Australians, which states that ‘Improving educational outcomes for all young Australians is central to our nation’s social and economic prosperity and will position our young people to live fulfilling, productive and responsible lives’ (p. 8; emphasis added). Here, a link is drawn between educational outcomes and the capacity to live a fulfilling, productive and responsible life. It is also interesting to note how productivity is so closely associated with fulfilment and responsibility – insinuating that young Australians have the responsibility to be productive in order to be truly fulfilled. This responsibility to be productive is further expressed in Goal 2: that ‘[a]ll young Australians become successful learners, confident and creative individuals, and active and informed citizens’ (MCEETYA, 2008: 9), who
Are enterprising, show initiative and use their creative abilities;
Have the confidence and capability to pursue university or post-secondary vocational qualifications leading to rewarding and productive employment;
Are well prepared for their potential life roles as family, community and workforce members;
Embrace opportunities, make rational and informed decisions about their own lives and accept responsibility for their own actions.
Young Australians are therefore expected to use their confidence and creative abilities to be enterprising, productive and responsible citizens and future members of the workforce. In this way, the MCEETYA goals can be seen as framed by an interest in education’s relation to the national economy, and ‘where the products of education are controlled, regulated and nationally standardized, producing generic workers who can move from one workplace to another as they are needed’ (Davies and Saltmarsh, 2007: 4). Such expectations are also apparent in the National framework for values education in Australian schools (DEST, 2005), where responsibility is defined as ‘be[ing] accountable for one’s own actions, resolv[ing] differences in constructive, non-violent and peaceful ways, contribut[ing] to society and to civic life, tak[ing] care of the environment’ (p. 4).
A poststructuralist reading of such policy statements recognises the productive feature of power (Butler, 1997; Foucault, 2002). This involves ‘governmentality’ (Foucault, 2000: 81) or ‘structur[ing] the possible field of action of others’ (Foucault, 2002: 341) through the application of ‘techniques of self’ (Foucault, 2000: 87). Individuals therefore have the agency to govern themselves – but only in ways that ensure an ‘alliance between personal objectives and ambitions and institutionally or socially prized goals or activities’ (Rose, 1999: 10), such as ‘productive’ or ‘goal-directed activities’ (Foucault, 2002: 338–339). Such an alliance between the personal and the social is said to determine ‘happiness, wisdom, health and fulfilment’ (Rose, 1999: 11). Yet, this form of happiness is conditionally tied to the concession of freedom. As noted by Levinas (2006), ‘[t]he will productive of works is a freedom that betrays itself. Through betrayal, society – a totality of freedoms, both maintained in their singularity and engaged in a totality – is possible’ (p. 25). In other words, in order to be productive, happy, wise, healthy and fulfilled members of society, individual freedom must be compromised in some way.
Accountability is depicted in these documents in both individualised and shared ways. Students are individually expected to ‘… embrace opportunities, make rational and informed decisions about their own lives and accept responsibility for their own actions’ (MCEETYA, 2008: 10) as well as take ‘… responsibility for their own learning and behaviour’ (NSW DSESWD, 1996: 5). Here, it seems that responsibility for learning, behaviour, as well as institutional and social order is being largely devolved to the individual child, while the school/institution is being depicted as a passive receptacle of this individual responsibility and its effects. Such a ‘decentralised’ (Comber and Nixon, 2009; Ozga, 2009; Pykett, 2009) position may ignore the responsibility of institutions for the wellbeing of the population (Halse, 2004). Also apparent here is the ‘rationalisation’ of decision-making where it is assumed that ‘[p]ersons discharge their lives according to rational rules and impersonal duties rather than by virtue of a set of transcendent ethical values’ (Rose, 1999: 259).
However, I see this assumption as problematic for a number of reasons. First, what counts as ‘rational’ is largely determined by those in dominant positions of power (Foucault, 2000, 2002). Second, from a Levinasian perspective, ethical responsibility is not a choice, decision or initiative – it is a preontological call, demand, obligation or duty which requires a response (Levinas, 2006; see also Raffoul, 2010). Whether this response is to heed or to ignore the ‘other’ (Levinas, 2006), it is made in and influenced by a specific context that cannot be rationally predicted (Raffoul, 2010 – drawing on Derrida). Finally, the face-to-face encounter and demand to take responsibility for the Other involves non-indifference, guilt, (pure) love, care, concern – a new rationality of goodness and kindness rather than scientific/objective forms of rationality (Levinas, 2006; Raffoul, 2010).
While individual accountability is largely framed in policy documents as involving rational decision-making; shared accountability is encouraged through student representative councils and school parliaments. Such initiatives are described as providing opportunities for individual leadership experience as well as opportunities for representing and serving the student body (NSW DSESWD, 1996: 6–7). This simultaneous expectation of accountability or responsibility for self and other is evident in the following statements: [T]the school will be a disciplined, ordered and cohesive community where individuals take responsibility and work together. (NSW DSESWD, 1996: 7) Responsibility: be accountable for one’s own actions, resolve differences in constructive, non-violent and peaceful ways, contribute to society and to civic life, take care of the environment. (DEST, 2005: 4) Responsibility: being accountable for your individual and community’s actions towards yourself, others and the environment. (NSW DET, 2004: 3)
Individual students are not only responsible for themselves, others and the environment. Shared or collective responsibility is also allocated to the broader school community: Achieving these educational goals is the collective responsibility of governments, school sectors and individual schools as well as parents and carers, young Australians, families, other education and training providers, business and the broader community. (MCEETYA, 2008: 7)
According to this excerpt, parents, teachers and community members are also responsible for the ‘shaping’ of student behaviour and values, the establishment of ‘fair and reasonable expectations’ and the achievement of national goals. The notion of ‘shaping’ is an example of governmentality where ‘individuals can be integrated, under one condition: that this individuality [is] shaped in a new form, and submitted to a set of very specific patterns’ (Foucault, 2002: 334). These patterns of subjectivity are usually more aligned to national/dominant rather than individual/minority interests, as those in positions of power and dominance determine which perspectives count as accepted ‘truths’ and wield them strategically to ‘win the victory’ (Foucault, 2000: 63). The emphasis on ‘reasonable expectations’ or reason (similar to the emphasis on rationality discussed previously) is problematic because it implies a universally applicable and impersonal common sense which risks complacency and does not take into account personal interpretation and the displacement of intended meaning (Levinas, 2006).
The determination of whether teachers and schools have been ‘successful’ in their ‘shaping’ of student knowledge, behaviour and values (such as responsibility) involves regular assessment/monitoring, evaluation/review and reporting of student, school and policy outcomes (DEST, 2005; MCEETYA, 2008; NSW DET, 2006; NSW DSESWD, 1996). The National educational goals for young Australians (MCEETYA, 2008: 16–17) particularly states that as a part of ‘strengthening accountability and transparency’, … governments will ensure that school-based information is published responsibly, so that any public comparisons of schools will be fair, contain accurate and verified data, contextual information and a range of indicators. Governments will not themselves devise simplistic league tables or rankings and privacy will be protected. (Emphasis added)
The MySchool website introduced by the Rudd Labor government in 2009 resulted in heated public debate. Despite multiple changes of governmental leadership over the past 8 years, this website continues to present the national assessment (National Assessment Program – Literacy and Numeracy (NAPLAN)) results of all Australian schools – allowing for public comparison. Teacher unions have concerns about ‘the inaccuracy and potential misuse of information on the MySchool website’ (NSW Teachers Federation, 2010) which may present ‘an incomplete and misleading picture of school performance’ (Australian Education Union (AEU), 2010). In any case, there is enough information for the general public (including parents) to rank schools themselves, leading to stigmatisation and lowered morale in ‘under-performing’ schools. This, along with an increasing diversion of government support and funding from government schools to non-government and Christian schools (Symes and Gulson, 2007), is likely to be a contributing factor in the rising number of non-government schools and declining number of government schools (Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS), 2001, 2011) as a part of the neoliberal agenda of privatisation (Apple, 2005).
While the MySchool website does take into account ‘socio-economic characteristics of the areas where students live (in this case an ABS census collection district), geographic position and the proportion of Indigenous students enrolled at the school’ (Australian Curriculum, Assessment and Reporting Authority (ACARA), n.d.) – with the rationale of allowing comparison between ‘similar’ schools – a number of key concerns remain. First, the emphasis on quantitative rather than qualitative measurement of student outcomes provides a superficial, rather than deep indication of student learning. Second, the responsibility for student outcomes is shifted from the government onto the individual students, teachers and parents. In the education ‘marketplace’, parents are particularly redefined as ‘consumers’ who are expected to exercise their democratic right to strategically ‘choose’ which school to send their child to – even if they do not have the requisite capital or resources to do so – and are blamed for making poor choices if their children ‘underperform’ (Apple, 2005; Rose, 1999). Third, comparison between schools (even if they are classed as ‘similar’) encourages competition for enrolments, where increased pressures to ‘teach to the test’ can work to narrow curriculum and pedagogy (Au, 2009). Finally, individual efforts and personal-bests are not necessarily rewarded by a system that applies standardised testing under the assumption that all students have the same backgrounds, cultural and social capital or resources, abilities, learning styles and types of intelligence. Therefore, the responsibilisation of the individual is based on a globalised, homogeneous, normative, standardised conception which ‘reduces’ (Koyama, 2011; Larsen, 2010) the ‘Other’ to the ‘Same’ (Butler, 2005; Levinas, 2006). The neoconservatist push for ‘standards’ will be discussed further in the following section.
For the ‘common good’: Responsibility and discourses of neoconservatism
Considerable emphasis placed on nationalism, militarism and standardisation in policy documents is characteristic of the neoconservative movement (see Apple, 2005). Here, diversity can exist – provided that it does not interfere with what is popularly understood as the common good. Responsibility is therefore framed as a national value or standard that must be continuously monitored and universally achieved in ‘normative[ly]’ (Butler, 2004: 33) defined ways. The focus on ‘developing student responsibility in local, national and global contexts’ (DEST, 2005: 3) maps out the concentric arenas in which students are increasingly expected to be responsible. The expectations of such ‘active and informed’ and ‘responsible’ citizens include the following (MCEETYA, 2008: 9–10):
appreciat[ion of] Australia’s social, cultural, linguistic and religious diversity, and hav[ing] an understanding of Australia’s system of government, history and culture
commit[ment] to national values of democracy, equity and justice, and participat[ing] in Australia’s civic life
work[ing] for the common good, in particular sustaining and improving natural and social environments
What is particularly evident here is the attempt to balance national unity with cultural diversity. This concept raises many questions, including whether a balance is ever achievable between such contradicting ideologies. As the nation state’s power ‘… is both an individualising and a totalising form of power’ (Foucault, 2002: 332) which aims ‘… to produce individually characterized, but collectively useful aptitudes’ (Foucault, 1977: 162), there is a constant struggle between ‘universality’ and ‘diversity’. As Butler (1997) contends, The universal begins to become articulated precisely through challenges to its existing formulation, and this challenge emerges from those who are not covered by it, who have no entitlement to occupy the place of the ‘who’, but who, nevertheless, demand that the universal as such ought to be inclusive of them. (p. 90; original emphasis)
In other words, the concept of universal cannot exist without a constant struggle over the boundaries of its inclusivity. Those compromising the most in this process are minority groups who are expected to conform to ‘normative’ values and cultural identity – defined by dominant Anglo society (see Perera and Pugliese, 1998) in order to ‘… shape conduct in certain ways in relation to certain objectives’ (Rose, 1999: 4). Nationalism is visually reinforced on the front cover of the National framework for values education in Australian schools policy via the image of the Australian flag – one of the key tools used to unify the population under a common identity (Kolstø, 2006). Its top-to-central positioning gives it the most visual weight and importance while also constructing it as the Ideal (Kress and Van Leeuwen, 2006).
Students are also expected to make ‘informed decisions’ (NSW DET, 2006: section 3.4), as well as participate as ‘equals’, and use ‘agreed upon processes such as student representative councils and school parliaments’ (NSW DSESWD, 1996: 7, 11). These expectations mirror the national processes of Australian democracy – particularly the idea of ‘parliament’. However, the idea of making ‘informed decisions’ requires critique, as it is based on the assumption that students always have the freedom to choose between different courses of action – and this may not always be the case. As discussed previously (in relation to rationality), ethical responsibility is not a choice, but rather involves an inevitable and preontological call or demand to ethically respond to the other in all their vulnerability (Butler, 2004; Levinas, 2006; Raffoul, 2010). However, how the subject responds to the demand of the other can involve making a decision which is shaped by context and ‘relations of power’ (Foucault, 2002).
Expectations of responsibility as articulated in education policy seem to go hand in hand with surveillance and discipline – technologies of control which in turn have militaristic undertones (see Foucault, 1977, 2000). Such militaristic undertones are also visually expressed on the front cover of the National framework for values education in Australian schools, through the World War I (WWI) image of ‘Simpson and his donkey’. Simpson – an unarmed war veteran who rescued wounded men during WWI battles at Gallipoli – is celebrated as a symbol of what is commonly portrayed as uniquely ‘Australian’ characteristics of courage, selfless service and mateship (see Nelson, 2005). The position of this image beneath the national flag is representative of a ‘reality’ (Kress and Van Leeuwen, 2006: 186) in which war is ‘… the secret driving force of institutions, laws and order’ (Foucault, 2000: 61). It is interesting to note how school welfare policies and school discipline policies are so closely aligned, as evident in the phrase ‘student welfare, including discipline’ (NSW DSESWD, 1996: 3). It is even stated that ‘[g]ood discipline is fundamental to the achievement of Government priorities for the public school system’ (NSW DET, 2006: section 1.1) and that ‘[t]he school will be a disciplined, ordered and cohesive community where individuals take responsibility and work together’ (NSW DSESWD, 1996: 6–7). This notion of discipline as a condition for responsibility is explained by Foucault (1977): He who is subjected to a field of visibility, and who knows it, assumes responsibility for the constraints of power; he makes them play spontaneously upon himself; he inscribes in himself the power relation in which he simultaneously plays both roles; he becomes the principle of his own subjection. (pp. 202–203; emphasis added)
Thus, surveillance or the implied threat of surveillance promotes self-discipline and therefore responsibility for the self. This surveillance ‘… may apply outside of school hours and off school premises where there is a clear and close connection between the school and the conduct of students’ (NSW DET, 2006: section 3.8), including (non-)attendance which is also ‘monitored’ (NSW DSESWD, 1996: 6). Within the Student Welfare (NSW DSESWD, 1996) policy, the section detailing ‘community participation’ concludes with a picture of two policemen talking with a group of students. Such an image visually reinforces notions of surveillance, particularly as ‘policy’ is derived from the word ‘police’ (Foucault, 2000: 69).
Discipline and responsibility are predominantly mentioned in policy documents in terms of ‘behaviour’, followed by ‘learning’: Parents and community members will participate in the education of young people and share the responsibility for shaping appropriate student behaviour … [and their] understanding about acceptable behaviour. (NSW DSESWD, 1996: 8) When parents enrol their children at public schools they enter into a partnership with the school. This partnership is based on a shared commitment to provide opportunities for students to take responsibility for their actions and to have a greater say in the nature and content of their learning. (NSW DET, 2006: section 3.3)
As a technique of governmentality, discipline involves ‘a policy of coercions that act upon the body, a calculated manipulation of its elements, its gestures, its behaviour’ (Foucault, 1977: 138). These coercions are based on dominant ‘norms’ and productivity/efficiency agendas to which individuals must conform (Foucault, 1977: 164, 183). As ‘the definition of behaviour and performance [is] on the basis of the two opposed values of good and evil … a distribution between a positive pole and a negative pole’ (Foucault, 1977: 180), then those who conform and display ‘positive’ behaviour are rewarded, while those who do not are punished in order to ‘correct’ their behaviour and therefore reduce any gaps (Foucault, 1977: 178–180). Furthermore, as the demand of responsibility for the Other ‘goes beyond what I do’ (Levinas, 1985: 96), then the predominant focus of policies on outwardly displayed behaviour fails to recognise the more internalised effects of ‘values’ and ‘attitudes’ on student responsibility and social interactions. For example, a student may display characteristics associated with ‘good discipline’ and/or ‘responsibility’ for fear of punishment or expectation of reward, rather than for altruistic or humanitarian reasons (see Kohn, 1993). Terms like ‘positive’, ‘acceptable’ and ‘appropriate’ are also problematic as they are usually defined in standardised ways by those in dominant societal positions and may not take into account diverse or marginalised perspectives.
In fact, one of the most influential aspects of neoconservatist discourse is standardisation – where ‘[t]he Normal is established as a principle of coercion in teaching’ (Foucault, 1977: 184). Schools and education systems are allocated the ‘responsibility’ of delivering programmes consistent with state/national curriculum expectations while also allowing contextual flexibility (MCEETYA, 2008: 14). While the acknowledgement of contextual differentiation is encouraging, it is also limited by state/national consistency or conformity. The ‘back to basics’ focus on Literacy and Mathematics is expected to be balanced with the cross-curricular integration of environmental sustainability and ‘… the opportunity to access Indigenous content where relevant’ (MCEETYA, 2008: 14). However, this perceived ‘relevancy’ may depend on individual interpretations and agendas. In relation to social skills (as with national values), it is expected that ‘all students … acquire them, or make progress towards them, over time’ (NSW DSESWD, 1996: 5). All students are therefore expected to conform to what dominant society constructs as ‘social skills’. Similarly (and as stated previously), standardised assessment or ‘examination’ of knowledge and understandings is problematic because it is based on ‘normalising judgement’ and hierarchical ‘ranks’ (Foucault, 1977: 146–148, 184). Such standardisation/normalisation does not take into account the different backgrounds, cultural and social capital or resources, abilities, learning styles, and types of intelligence of students. Even more difficult to assess according to standardised measures, is student acquisition of social skills and values (including responsibility). According to Rose (1999), ‘[i]n compelling, persuading and inciting subjects to disclose themselves, finer and more intimate regions of personal and interpersonal life come under surveillance and are opened up for expert judgement, and normative evaluation, for classification and correction’ (p. 244). The question remains as to whether the assessment of these very personal things is going too far – not only in terms of intrusion into private life but also in transforming intrinsically personal qualities and relationships into instrumental ‘social skills’ deployed for more extrinsic purposes.
Conclusion
Responsibility is conceptualised in contradictory ways within Australian education policy documents at the national, state and school levels. There are constant tensions between or attempts to balance such binaries as unity and diversity, conformity and freedom, responsibility for the other and responsibility for the self, obligation and altruism. While such binaries may be viewed as an attempt to acknowledge life’s complexities, the ‘permanent provocation’ (Foucault, 2002: 342) or tensions existing between them also provide a continual challenge to complacency.
The policies analysed here do have some potential in terms of incorporating notions of individual and collective responsibility into policy discourse in a meaningful way – particularly in terms of the emphasis on ‘care’ for others and the environment. However, what is particularly problematic about these policies is how responsibility is constantly re-aligned to neoliberal discourses of productivity and accountability that depend largely on economic validation and neoconservative discourses that emphasise standardisation, conformity, discipline and docility through self-governance (see Foucault, 1977, 2000, 2002). It is difficult to see how more altruistic or unconditional forms of responsibility are to flourish under such conditions.
Footnotes
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.