“Enlistment for the Farm” seemed, at first, to be nothing special. The title felt dull, blunt, and straightforward compared to the dozens of pamphlets that advertised grandiose topics like spreading democracy or protecting American values. My attention was caught, however, when I saw that the pamphlet, which I assumed was about the importance of supporting farms during the war through either farming unions or female participation, was written by famous American education reformer John Dewey. Agriculture and public education have no overlap in my mind, so I became interested to see exactly what the pamphlet was about. Little did I know that this pamphlet would just kept getting better as it went on. Dewey was, indeed, concerned with finding a labor force that would replace the farmers who enlisted as soldiers, but his solution was far more shocking than I had anticipated.
Having gone into “Enlistment for the Farm” with certain expectations, the pamphlet’s thesis perplexed me even though it was stated rather plainly in the first couple paragraphs: “The school children of America can serve definitely, effectively and with educational results by helping in the plowing of Uncle Sam’s acre.” According to Dewey, victory rested almost entirely on America’s ability to feed troops, something that could quickly be achieved by using school children (ages 9 to 16) to bolster the farming population. If the calculations of Dr. P. P. Claxton, whom Dewey cites, are to be believed then a total of $750,000,000 worth of production—a conservative estimation I might add—would have been added to the nation’s food supply. Dewey points out, however, that such benefits would not come easily and that “State, country and even national organization are required to make available this latent power.” He claims that the results would be worth the effort, though, as they would be using a group of people that could otherwise do little to help the nation.
Amazingly, Dewey promises that his solution would not only solve America’s agricultural dilemma but would also benefit children as a superior means of education. He claims that “Constructive Patriotism” will be developed and taught in the fields. “It gives a chance for the expression of the idea of service to one’s country which is not of the destructive kind,” he says, later going on to explain that his solution also provides “healthful exercise, a sense of reality which means so much to children, and a sense of service in performance of work which is really useful.” According to Dewey, his solution provided no downside and even if the nation were not at war he would still advocate for such a program. It’s that good.
Reading through “Enlistment for the Farm” with a modern mindset, Dewey’s proposal feels like a finely constructed satire. The blunt vocabulary and wild logic he uses to advocate for what is essentially a system of government sanctioned child labor camps is entertaining in its absurdity. At one point Dewey explicitly says, “Children in the cities may be sent into the county for camps and tent colonies.” As entertaining as the concept is now, though, it was an actual possibility at the time brought into reality through society’s obsession over rationalism and efficiency. To Dewey and many others in 1917, it would be irrational and inefficient to allow children to run around and play while the nation mobilized for war. Dewey saw children as unused variables, variables that had over 4,000 hours of free time per year to contribute to the war effort. He was given no choice but to allocate them accordingly.
Great find! (And terrific writing on your part.) I love the odd contradiction between the unexciting title and the famous author. And indeed, the use of child labor to feed the wartime nation is quite shocking. However, this really was in line with Dewey’s philosophy of involved, cooperative learning. Dewey was responsible for demolishing education as rote memorization sitting in rows of desks. Every field trip, hands-on project, or experiential learning experience you had in your education was thanks to Dewey — we might even thank him for our trip to Europe. That said, your point that the pamphlet borders on satire is well taken. His plan is utterly absurd when one actually imagines it!