Paulo Freire and the Stupidest Game in the World

[thetableyoufearthemost]

 

Let us imagine, for just a moment, that you are a regular player in a Table Top Role Playing Game. At the risk of being rather didactic, we will call it “The Stupidest Game in the World” (SGW). 

You show up for your weekly session of SGW one Monday evening, and the Game Master sets the scene: you and the party are in a dungeon. So far so good. The Game Master then proceeds to give you a map of the dungeon that details exactly where everything is, from monsters to treasure chests to trap doors to the final boss that guards the princess you are sworn to rescue. Because he’s the “nice” Game Master in the neighborhood, he even gives you handouts he’s printed with hints on how to beat each of the dungeon’s challenges, such as which spells will be particularly effective against the goblins you run into rooms 3 and 6. 

As you glance over the map, already a bit glazed-over in the eyes, you notice something: this week’s map is the exact same map as last week’s. Not a single difference that you can noti… ah, there we go. Last week, room 6 had 4 goblins. This week there are 7 goblins. 

The Game Master gives you all a solemn look. He reminds everyone that while today’s dungeon is a review of many of the concepts of dungeon adventuring, next week, you will have a dungeon to play through that will actually count towards the game. And you will not be allowed to use the notes he’s been providing you with, so you should spend a bit of time reviewing beforehand. This has happened a few times before, and you know that the dungeon “that counts” will be another near-perfect facsimile of the dungeon you’re doing now, though perhaps the goblins will be replaced by skeletons. 

At this point, you are forced to admit, you’re only showing up to play the SGW out of a sense of obligation to your friend, the Game Master. And, well, he does buy pizza for everyone each week… not good pizza, mind you, but bad free pizza is better than no free pizza at all, in your humble opinion... 

***

Perhaps you’ve realized already, gentle reader, that the SGW is an allegory for the kind of school system that’s all too common in the world and in which you yourself may have suffered. Perhaps, having sat through an Algebra course or two in your lifetime, you will have guessed which subject matter I’ve taught for most of my career and therefore have no qualms about picking on. 

Paulo Freire, the great Brazilian educator and author of “Pedagogy of the Oppressed,” would have referred to the SGW–as well as the school systems to which it bears a remarkable resemblance–as following a “banking model” of education. The banking model sees children as being rather like an empty “account,” into which it is the teacher’s job to “deposit” knowledge. At some point later, the teacher will make a “withdrawal” in the form of a quiz or test. The transactions having been completed successfully, the students are then passed on to the next banker.. er, teacher. Should the students be found to have “insufficient funds” in their account of knowledge, they will be sent back to the teacher for further deposits. 

The whole thing is just as interesting and exciting as you remember it to be. 

Paulo Freire proposed that the “banking model” be replaced with a problem-posing education. To give an all-too-quick summary, problem-posing education is exactly what it sounds like: the job of the teacher is to pose a problem to the students. The students are then called upon to work together towards a solution. The teacher doesn’t impose solutions from above, but can gently guide things along by asking timely, non-leading questions. 

So yes, being a Problem-Posing Teacher and being a good Game Master do have an awful lot in common. 

***

Freire–who mainly wrote in the 1960s and 70s– still hasn’t gained wide-traction in the school systems of the Western world. I suspect that’s as much to do with his leftward political commitments as it is anything to do with an honest appraisal of his pedagogy. 

But Dungeons & Dragons – despite a rocky start in the 1980s and the Satanic Panic–is actually gaining some traction in the school system.

There are numerous articles being written on the benefits of D&D and other TTRPGs in educational settings. Here is one such that I’ll offer as an introduction: How ‘Dungeons & Dragons’ Primes Students for Interdisciplinary Learning, Including STEM 

In my opinion, it has those benefits because Dungeons & Dragons is not the Stupidest Game in the World. In other words, it is not the “banking model” of education. Players are not treated like mindless banking accounts into whom deposits of information should be made and withdrawn. D&D players have real agency. They have to use real problem-solving skills, creativity, logical reasoning, and critical thinking. They have to be able to make a plan, but also to be flexible when a bad dice roll comes their way. Real teamwork and collaboration are required, as are diverse skill sets.

And these requirements aren’t an accident: they’re what makes Dungeons & Dragons fun and engaging to play in the first place. They’re what sets D&D apart from what I’ve described in the Stupidest Game in the World. And they’re precisely what D&D has in common with Freire’s pedagogy. 

***

And yet, most math classes still bear a strong resemblance to the Stupidest Game in the World. So don’t most history classes, science classes, etc. 

Why do we do this to our children? Why do we give them sets of math problems to practice that resemble the SGW’s boring dungeons and then act surprised when they hate math? 

If I tried to run a dungeon like the SGW’s, I should expect precisely zero people to want to play my game. And yet, teachers are expected, required by law even, to teach like that. “Tonight, you will do problems 1 - 33 odd. If you have the notes you took in class and the handout I gave you, none of them will surprise you. They are remarkably similar to each other, with slightly different numbers in each (watch out for the negative numbers in problem #27!). Next Monday you will have a test, which you will not find too challenging if you’ve done the prescribed exercises.” 

How dreadfully boring. Why do we do this to our children? 

I can’t help but think that it has a lot to do with a certain “a-word” that I used a few paragraphs up: “agency.” We’d rather not like for children to have any of that. If they were taught to have agency in our schools, why, they just might grow up to be functioning citizens capable of democratic self-governance…

If school looked more like a good TTRPG and less like the world’s stupidest one, I suspect we’d have a very engaged student body. We’d have children learning a lot more than they ever have. We’d have students beginning the individuation process. 

And yet, you and I both know, gentle reader, that math class isn’t likely to look like D&D at any point within our lifetime. 

The good news, though, is that they can play high quality TTRPGs just as soon as the 3pm bell signals the end of the school day…