What matters more, process or results?

The thick pad of coarse pulp sheets of writing paper, each sheet marked with wide-spaced, horizontal lines, had a red cover. In sharp contrast, a thick, sparkling white pencil, freshly sharpened, large red rubber eraser standing in unscuffed splendor on the opposite end, lay beside each pad. Kindergarten being a foreign concept in our area, first grade was my introduction to formal education, and I was charged up. My very own pad of unused writing paper. And my very own pencil, fat, quite childish in appearance, but still all mine.

Interrupting my contemplation of these treasures, Miss Spencer ordered us to line up, pencils in hand, and approach her desk, one at a time. Wielding a large pocket knife, she deftly sliced the eraser off each pencil, flush with the metal ferrule holding it in place. I was deeply wounded at the sight of such sacrilege. When all pencils had been denuded, Miss Spencer explained with grim satisfaction that she’d done this so we would learn from the beginning not to make mistakes, there being no way to correct them.

At the age of 6, there was no way I could challenge an adult on her theories of education. Nor, at that early age, had I yet heard of Henry Ford’s sensible remark that failure is simply the opportunity to make a fresh start. But it seemed to me, in a vague but lasting way, that the teacher’s approach put undue pressure on me to adhere rigidly and painstakingly to established patterns, without the opportunity to learn how failure happens and how to deal with it. My opinion of her approach has not changed. She seemed to be concentrating, as the provider, on how best to employ her preferred efficient controls instead of how best to allow the user, maybe less efficiently but more effectively, to reach the best result.

Many years later, I came upon the same unthinking approach again. I discovered that my small children were not eating some of their vegetables at lunch in the little school they attended because the rule was that if you took one bite, you had to eat it all. The lady in charge explained to me that this was so all the children would learn to eat their vegetables. I explained to her that my rule was that I’d rather my kids eat some of the green beans or the creamed corn than none, and that therefore the school’s rule was not to be applied in their case again. I had to reiterate my position a couple of times when I would learn that someone had forgotten my instructions, but I was reasonably successful. Still, I’m sure I opened no minds.

I’ve thought of these two cases a lot in the last few years, especially in this current election season. I wonder what people who explain their political choices by attacking those who don’t think as they do really believe they are accomplishing. If you want to persuade me to see things your way, admittedly an unlikely prospect where political positions are concerned, beginning by announcing that all who think as I do are fools is probably not going to achieve what you’re after. Even a quiet, reasoned discussion may have little chance of changing my mind, but at least it won’t leave me thinking you are an idiot and making you a permanent enemy.

I’m not referring to the clear expression of political opinions or presentations of competing points of view. My beef is with the hurlers of invective, of abuse couched in profanity, of accusations untethered to reality. I’m sure it must feel good to unburden one’s self of the vilest of thoughts, but such attacks have about as much chance of getting the presumably desired result as a pencil with no eraser has of correcting mistakes.

This story was originally published July 30, 2016 at 6:34 PM with the headline "What matters more, process or results?."