Blurred lines

I read this week that leading educators in Finland are scrapping traditional school subjects in favour of 'Phenomenon' teaching which basically means teaching by topic as in primary schools. It made me think of my dear university friend who could not, would not let her peas touch her mashed potato on a plate of food. Some people like to keep boundaries clear, keep substances and ideas pure, keep each mouthful tasting mono-flavoured. Others like to blend and mix it up, see what happens when substances and ideas mesh.

The experts in Finland would argue that separating out your English from your Maths from your History, etc was very suitable in the early 1900s - it matched the state the world was in and amply prepared students 100 years ago for the nature of employment beyond school. Nowadays, these experts claim, that model is outdated and a poor fit for modern society. Such an interesting thought.

By nature, I am a purist. And I have my own definition for that. It means I like to eat whole nut chocolate when I am alone so no one distracts me from the taste. I like to open letters from my friends only when I have tidied the downstairs and made a cup of tea so nothing will distract me from the pleasure of reading. I've been known to leave a room uncleaned for months because it is due to be repainted and if it's not going to be perfect until it's painted, then why waste energy on it in the meantime? To readers, slightly ocd. To myself, a purist.

However, I am warming to Finland's idea of pulling down the boundaries, forgetting where one thing ends and the next begins. For the next generation, it hails all kinds of precedent for multi-cultural acceptance, for young business owners playing every role in their staff, for pigeon holes of all kinds to be blown apart and rebuilt as open plan pigeon complexes. Classrooms would be full of exploratory projects, with confident independent groups working out the economic viabilities of a ecologically sustainable tree house village for the next Olympic Games.

Then again, if I am a child reading Pride and Prejudice in my traditional English classroom, I want to revel in the language, its rhythms and tricks and beauty. I don't want to be working out the ph levels in the water in Jane Austen's lifetime and working out why those who lived at the top of the hill didn't catch typhoid but the ones at the bottom of the hill did. I know what I'm getting with English and it's pure and it's indulgent and it escapes the need to think logically for a short time. Hmm to blend or not to blend.

Discuss, Finland.