What led
me to think about literacy was an invitation from a school to give a talk on
literacy for sustainable development on World Literacy Day. The occasion led me
to review the traditional idea of literacy as well as reflect on literacies of
different kinds we are called upon to develop in a changing world. With unexpected results.
“Literacy”
is a loaded expression: it keeps adding more and more senses to its original
meaning. Or, it keeps expanding, adding more and more layers to itself.
Originally, the word “literary” only meant the ability to read and write. Over
the years, its meaning has expanded to include various other types of literacy:
information literacy, political literacy, technological literacy, media
literacy, cultural literacy, multicultural literacy, visual literacy, environmental
literacy, digital literacy, financial literacy, and what not. If you look up
the word ‘literacy’ even in the latest edition of a dictionary, the dictionary
entry will say that “literacy” is an uncountable noun – meaning you can’t
pluralize the word and say “literacies.” But, in the real world, language
doesn’t quite function according to the dictionary; we talk about literacies
because the word has enormously outgrown its original sense.
The idea
of sustainable development has added new meanings to literacy. The Brundtland
Commission defined sustainable development as ‘the kind of development that meets the needs of the present without
compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs.’
Achieving this kind of development calls for not just action guided by an
ethical sense but the skill of critical inquiry. One must learn to develop the
skill of critical inquiry and use this literacy to view the things that are
happening in front of oneself.
That is what I am going to do
here.
Every Monday,
I travel from Vijayawada to Gudlavalleru via Vuyyuru and Pamarru. On the way, I
see on both sides of the road hundreds of acres of farm land being converted
for commercial ventures. This reckless conversion started when Vijayawada
becoming the capital of Andhra Pradesh was a mere rumour two months ago. Now
that the rumour has come true, the destruction has intensified. The conversion
is certainly for the sake of development – for developing commercial complexes
and residential areas. But, at what expense? Where is this so-called
development going to lead us?
During the
Vinayaka Chaturthi celebrations, my wife and I were going home from Patmata
through some residential areas. On each big road, we had to take a diversion
because the road was blocked. There was a temporary shrine for Lord Vinayaka in
a tent right on the road itself with people were sitting round it offering worship. We
saw half-a-dozen such tents on our way. It set me thinking. If a Hindu or a
Muslim community pitched tents on the road and conducted prayer service, would
the majority community keep quiet? Is this not a vulgar display of majoritarianism and cultural illiteracy? Does this bode well for our
development?
There is a
book called The End of Growth written
by Richard Heinberg. It is written in simple language and is available for free
download on the internet. The book says something interesting about our
economic growth. We live on a finite plan. The earth with all its resources being
infinite is faith. ‘Om poornamadah poornamidam poornaat poornamudachyate / Poornasya
poornamaadaaya poornamevaavashishsyate,’ says the Upanishad. It means ‘Brahman
is poornam or whole. This world is poornam. This poornam came from that
poornam. Take poornam out of poornam. What remains is poornam.’ This would have
us believe that the earth with all its resources is infinite. But this is not
borne out by reality. The resources are getting depleted, and alarm bells have
started ringing already. But, we have an economic system based on infinite growth. At
some point, when we have reached the limits of our natural capital, our growth
story will come to an end. Heinberg argues that we have almost reached that point –
the point of the end of our growth. A doom of this kind has been predicted by a few
other philosophers before. But, what happened in the story, ‘The Boy Who Cried
Wolf’ in Aesop’s Fable, may happen in our economic growth story as well. In the wolf story, the wolf eventually arrived. So will the end of our economic growth.
This calls for a review of our economic system and the literacy underlining it.
The world
is becoming more and complex with foundational changes taking place all around us.
The social and economic needs of today are emerging within a digitally
networked society. According to an estimate I came across on the Internet, 65%
of school children will end up doing jobs which have not been invented yet. How
can students prepare themselves for jobs that have not been invented yet? How
can teachers prepare their students for jobs which have not been invented yet?
What kind of literacy does this preparation call for?
And then
the media. The media act in a devious way. Unless you know how to demystify
media language, you are apt to be influenced by what the media say. A few years
ago, the Center for International Media Assistance (CIMA), which functions from
Washington, published a damning report about the media called ‘Cash for
Coverage: Bribery of Journalists around the World.’ The report was written by a
journalist! As a long-time user of the media and a freelance journalist, I can
recognize paid news and planted stories when I find them. And I do find them
even in newspapers which make tall claims to honesty. But, demystifying media
language demands literacy of some kind. Perhaps, I must run a workshop on demystification
of media language with telling examples from local editions which will make
enormous sense to the participants.
I asked
the children to reflect on these five situations and develop the literacies
the reflection will demand. ‘There lies a possible path to sustainable
development,’ I said.
The children asked interesting questions some of which led me to talk about the quirky attempts of pseudo-historians to discover aircraft in ancient India and search for the mythical river, Saraswati.
The children were amused. The organizers thought I was a communist. A fellow-speaker asked me at the end of the programme if I was an atheist. I said, 'I wish I was one.'
The children were amused. The organizers thought I was a communist. A fellow-speaker asked me at the end of the programme if I was an atheist. I said, 'I wish I was one.'
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