April 1, 2013
23 of 65
When Pluto Was a Planet
Science marches on. Some think our educational system may be falling behind, but often it is far out in front.
Here I am thinking of an incident that occurred when our son Michael was in 2nd Grade. He was attending Martensen Elementary School in Wheat Ridge, Colorado. The Jefferson County School District, of which Martensen was part, was one of the best in the country. One evening Michael approached me and asked, “Mercury’s larger than Pluto, isn’t it?” I told him, “Yes. I’m pretty sure it is.” He had been interested in astronomy for several years, so I felt safe in agreeing with him.
He showed me the textbook his class was using to study the solar system, which stated that Mercury was the smallest planet. I saw an opportunity to provide a real learning experience, so the next evening I took him to the library
and we began some independent research on the planets and their sizes. We learned that in the first few years after the discovery of Pluto – which only occurred in 1930 – the then state of the art measurements showed it to be a rather large planet. More recently, improved observations had revealed that what was really out beyond Neptune’s orbit was a very small planet circled by a relatively large moon. The previous estimates of Pluto’s size had included not only Pluto itself, but also the moon and the space between the two.
I thought Michael would be glad to know that he had been right all along – Mercury was larger. Instead, he became worried. There was going to be a test on the material and he did not know what to do. If he correctly said that Pluto, and not Mercury, was the smallest, he was afraid the teacher would mark the answer as incorrect.
As luck would have it, parent-teacher conferences were scheduled before the test would be given. At the conference, I explained to the teacher that there was an error in the textbook and mentioned Michael’s concern about the upcoming test. She responded with a blank stare. She said that her understanding was that Mercury was smaller, but she would look into it.
I don’t remember whether the test asked which was the smallest planet. Michael said that the teacher had not told the class about the discrepancy in the textbook.
Some 15 years later, the International Astronomical Union, which is an association of professional astronomers, determined that Pluto is actually not a planet. That leaves us exactly where the 2nd Grade textbook told us we should be – living in a solar system with Mercury as its smallest planet.
Later, when our children were attending elementary school in Clear Creek County, the school district was eager to prepare students for the future. Cathy and I would attend various meeting at school to listen to the principal describe the new computers and automated systems that were being added to the curriculum.
I would raise my hand and suggest a more cautious approach. I felt that one problem with computers is that in order to make them productive, the user has to think and respond in conformity with the programming of the software. Creativity can be stifled because an unusual approach may not be recognized by the machine. I was usually met with a blank stare and a “thank you for sharing” comment as the meeting focused more intently on how soon the equipment would arrive and where it would be placed.
Once again it seems the educational system was thinking beyond my limited capacity. Computers in their various forms are now ubiquitous and all of today’s students are much more creative than my generation ever was – aren’t they?
Even as computers became more widely used, the system did not ignore the importance of books for elementary students. One idea to increase time for reading was the “No TV Week.” All of the students pledged to go an entire week without watching any television programs. The festivities were to begin with a rally and bonfire at which everyone would burn their TV Guides. I really wanted to support a measure to foster reading, but something about the idea bothered me. I raised my hand and said that I had a conceptual problem with burning written material solely because of its content. As an alternative, I thought we might burn Ray Bradbury’s book, Fahrenheit 451.
I was met with a blank stare and a “thank you for sharing that.” The bonfire was held as scheduled.
I should not be surprised, but I now see the school was way ahead of me again. Today there is no TV Guide. Anyone who wants a television schedule can find one on his computer or smart phone.
I have adapted. I realize that Pluto is simply Mickey Mouse’s dog, and I can read all about it on my iPad or Kindle.
The blank stare in response to thoughtful thinking… I’ve encountered it too, and confess that over the years it’s most often proven itself to be the human face of the old “blue screen of death,” when something goes wrong with a computer and it simply zips itself up, puts itself away, and then reboots into a familiar status quo.
When thoughtfulness, creativity, honesty, or even just plain old new information tends to overload someone else’s processor, I try to be gentle and find a way to reach them. That rarely works. Then, I advise myself to not judge the person with the perception and honesty I am capable of. That, too, rarely works. And so, being for better and for worse the person I am, I remember with a sigh an old Paul Simon line. “One man’s ceiling is another man’s floor.” And I walk away.
Later, in pursuit of a humility which evades me daily, I will remonstrate myself with the thought that assigning “levels” to the perceptive, intellectual and creative abilities of others is both rude and snobbish. That rarely works, either. This is because I know that there are entire worlds where incorrect textbooks carry more authority than does fact, where books are burned in favor of thoughtlessness, and where Pluto is a dog in a cartoon.