Dialogue: Maths needs the mana we bestow on our rugby

By DEREK HOLTON*

I've been worrying about something for 15 years or more. In fact, I'm so worried that I'm not sure I want to say what it is I'm worrying about.

Usually when I confess the source of my concern, shutters go up, some people turn away, and others simply say, "I was never any good at maths."

There, I've let it out. I'm worried about mathematics. And I'm worried, not just because I'm a professional in the area (and so to some extent I'm paid to worry).

Rather, I'm worried because if we are going to bring off this knowledge economy thing, then we will need people who can do maths and who understand the subject.

Where is the next generation of mathematically able people going to come from? In recent times we've had international and Education Review Office reports confirming that we're not up there with the Singaporeans and Koreans. And what do we have to do to get there? Well, that's what I've been worrying about.

Let's put the boot on the other foot for a moment. Suppose Singapore looked at us and decided that it wanted to be a first-class rugby nation. What would Singapore do?

Surely if it wanted change quickly it would start throwing money around. It would buy in overseas coaches. It would train its own coaches. It would set up a strong internal competition.

It would try to attract top rugby nations to play it regularly. It would set up a strong junior competition to provide a training ground for good players hoping to make the national team.

But that by itself might be insufficient. Singapore might not succeed on the international rugby stage because the Singaporean physique tends to be slender.

Or maybe Singaporean parents don't want their children to play such a hard, physical game. It's also possible that their children would rather do something else.

To get round those problems, the new and improved Singapore Rugby Football Union would have to work hard to show the general population how important and exciting the game is and why they should become involved.

What worries me most about mathematics is that we have precisely that situation in this country. We have a population that are largely ignorant of the subject, were glad when they didn't have to do it ever again and see no great need for it.

We need to get people to agree that this thing is necessary for our future survival as one of the richest countries in the world. When we surmount this obstacle then we may have a chance of getting somewhere.

Oh, it has suddenly occurred to me that you and I may not be speaking the same language. What you mean by mathematics may not be what I mean by mathematics.

Mathematics isn't just sums. It's not just about knowing how to add, subtract, multiply, divide and do some algebraic manipulations. Maths is also about thinking, about problem-solving, about being creative.

Sure it's important to be able to do arithmetic and to be able to use algebra. But in business and personal life, solving problems is a fundamental skill.

Most problems that you run across outside school are nothing much like those you have been trained to solve in school. So it is necessary to learn how to solve problems in a flexible and creative way.

Maths taught well can provide the framework and confidence for solving new problems. It is this training that makes maths potentially such an important subject for the knowledge economy.

There are two things to add at this point. First, in Asia parents support education in the same way that many of us give our support to our children's sporting activities.

This doesn't have to be an either/or business. I'm not saying, "No sport - just hit the books." Rather, I am suggesting that for the country's good, we may need to place more emphasis on education.

And the second thing is that although mathematicians don't earn as much as professional rugby players, there are more jobs for mathematicians than for rugby players. So it may be a better strategy to train for a maths career than a rugby one.

That brings me to the "coaches" - teachers. Can we lift their game? Certainly we can. None of us, even university professors, is so good that he or she can't improve. So how do we go about this?

First, let's talk potential teachers. Why would you want to be a teacher? The pay? The conditions? The approval of society?

Whether you are a teacher of maths or anything else, the pay isn't good. Some teachers may not pay off their student loans until they are over 50.

What about conditions? In your workplace are you making important decisions every second and handling people who would rather be somewhere else?

And where do teachers sit on the list of most popular occupations? Are they still above brain surgeons?

There is much room for improvement in pay, conditions and society's valuation of teaching. Yet many people still choose it as a profession. They want to help kids. So who is going to help the teachers?

Surely this starts in their training. Can we give primary trainees a good solid background and an enthusiasm for maths?

Is it really true that not all providers of teacher education insist on a minimum level of mathematical ability for primary trainees? Or do providers expect and accept too low a level of mathematical ability?

Can we fill trainee classes only by accepting students with very poor mathematical backgrounds?

What about teachers who are already in the system? Well, the Ministry of Education has initiatives to support mathematics in primary classes. But these don't reach all teachers. Perhaps it should be part of the job description for teachers to undertake regular professional development.

So before we wring our hands and bemoan the fact that we aren't so high on some international mathematical scale, we, as a country, have to decide that mathematics is an important subject.

If it is, then we have to decide what action to follow. Where are our weaknesses? Where do we need to improve?

This all raises the following questions: should we spend more time on maths in school? What is the best teaching practice?

How do we make maths accessible to all students? How can we help teachers to improve?

You can see why I'm worried. But a worry shared is a worry halved. I'm feeling less worried already. But what's half of infinity?

* Derek Holton is a professor of mathematics at Otago University.