The End of Education by Neil Postman Page A

being rejected as an appropriate form of social organization for penetrating the “final frontier.”) Nonetheless, the story of Spaceship Earth has the power to bind people. It makes the idea of racism both irrelevant and ridiculous, and it makes clear the interdependence of human beings and their need for solidarity. If any part of the spaceship is poisoned, then all suffer—which is to say that the extinction of the rain forest is not a Brazilian problem; the pollution of the oceans is not a Miami problem; the depletion of the ozone layer is notan Australian problem. It follows from this, of course, that genocide is not a Bosnian problem, hunger not a Somalian problem, political oppression not a Chinese problem. “Never send to know for whom the bell tolls,” wrote John Donne. “It tolls for thee.” If ever there was a narrative to animate that idea, the Earth as our one and only spaceship is it.
    Moreover, I need hardly point out that this form of global consciousness does not significantly conflict with any traditional religious beliefs. I am not aware of any deity who would take satisfaction in the destruction of the Earth, or, for that matter, the disintegration of cities, or hostility among people holding different points of view. One can be a Christian, a Muslim, a Taoist, a Jew, or a Buddhist and yet be imbued with a commitment to the preservation of the planet. In like fashion, the story of the Earth as a spaceship does not conflict with national or tribal tales; it does not require that one reject or even be indifferent to one’s national, regional, or tribal loyalties. One can be an American, or a Norwegian, or a Frenchman, or, for that matter, a Lapp and, without sacrificing one’s identity, can be enlarged by adopting the role of Earth’s caretaker.
    One can, that is, unless driven by a competing narrative which insists that one’s own nation is all that counts in Heaven and Earth. As I write, at least one school system in the state of Florida has adopted a story requiring teachers and students to believe that the United States is superior to all other nations—one assumes, in all respects. A similar story has been proposed in New York City (but, for the moment, rejected). This is an idea that calls to mind the desperate efforts of the Queen in
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
to reassure herself of her preeminent and unfailing beauty. “Mirror, mirror on the wall,” she daily asks, “who is the fairest one of all?” But in that case, the mirror tells the truth, thus putting poorSnow White in harm’s way. It is a terrible burden to place on children to require them to ask this question about nationhood and of a mirror that is programmed in advance always to reply, “America, America.” In addition to its being a perversion of the American Creed, such a story is a sign of a desperate quest for a meaningful narrative, and one’s sympathies must be extended to those who conceived of this. It is, nonetheless, doubtful that its disoriented authors can find the Earth as spaceship an acceptable narrative. But, I believe, many will, for this is an idea whose time has come. It is a story of interdependence and global cooperation, of what is at the core of humanness; a story that depicts waste and indifference as evil, that requires a vision of the future and a commitment to the present. In this story, if the students ask, “Mirror, mirror on the wall, which is the fairest of us all?,” the mirror replies, “This is a pretty stupid question. Have you not noticed that you are all on the same ship? That you must rely on each other to survive, and that you have not taken sufficient care of your home?”
The Fallen Angel
    I use a religious metaphor here to emphasize the point that what I shall describe is not merely a method or an epistemology but a narrative, and one of almost universal acceptance. The story as it is told in various places and forms is essentially a religious idea, and I trust that this