PPSMI: A different perspective

The teaching of mathematics and science in English has become a contentious issue, with emotions running high on both sides. Does it really matter which language these subjects are taught in, as both subjects have their own mysterious “languages”? PM unravels the beauty and wonder of numbers and sorts out the rational from the irrational.

By Chan Huan Chiang

Pengajaran dan Pembelajaran Sains dan Matematik dalam Bahasa Inggeris or PPSMI – to teach and learn mathematics and science in English – became government policy in 2003 due to concerns over the nation’s human capital development and to enable early preparation for the workforce in response to globalisation. Proficiency in English, as an international language, was deemed crucial to facilitate ready access to knowledge and innovation.

In the years that followed, PPSMI came under intense public debate. This year, the policy was rescinded, reverting back to instruction in Bahasa Malaysia for the 2012 school year, further intensifying the debate. This was then followed by the Education Ministry’s announcement to allow schools to decide which language science and mathematics is best taught in, adding to further confusion. It would be very difficult for schools to achieve a consensus among parents and to deal with logistic issues such as posting of teachers to the schools and the choice of available textbooks that matches the curriculum for public examinations. Finally on November 21, 2011, Deputy Prime Minister and Education Minister Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin announced that after careful study PPSMI would be scrapped.

Policy issues that enjoy intense public discourse leading to government delivery which is responsive to social choice are a demonstration of democracy in action. However, democracy cannot be one in which one side achieves its objective while the other has no choice but to go along. With democracy there must also come pluralism, in other words, setting aside a one-size-fits-all solution and allowing for the possibility of many different models from which the community can choose. Thus, allowing schools to make their own choice is democratic. Parents and pupils can then elect by attending the schools that suit their preferences.

Without pluralism, the choice of language is a three-cornered fight within the country’s different communities. First, Bahasa Malaysia as a medium of instruction in the public school system was meant to foster the use of the national language to unite the people – a social cement in the creation of Malaysia. The need for a common language to foster national unity had long been recognised as far back as the beginning of the 20th century in Malaya. In the account given by Mehmet Ozay (2011), R J Wilkinson, who was appointed Federal School Inspector from 1903 to 1906, took steps to improve education in Malay as a common language and initiated the reproduction and distribution of authentic Malay text with the “vision for Malayan youths to communicate in their own language, and for them to be exposed to contemporary issues via Malay journals”. [1]

Second, the practical aspects of English proficiency in a globalised world have caused concerns over deteriorating standards. Without rapid globalisation, the nationalistic aspirations of Malay as the language of everyday use in the country would probably not be refuted. Instead, a bilingual education strategy became a necessity.

In their analysis of problems and challenges in learning through a second language, Tan and Santhiran (2007) reviewed developments that led to the government’s decision to implement PPSMI in 2003. Citing 1994 examination results statistics, 45.5% failed English in the Ujian Pencapaian Sekolah Rendah or UPSR sat by all pupils before completing primary schools (age 12), 41.8% failed English in the Penilaian Menengah Rendah or PMR (age 15) and 34% to 38% failed English in the Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia or SPM (age 17). Despite such unsatisfactory achievements, some elements of the Ordinary Level 1119 English paper set by the Cambridge Examination Syndicate in England was incorporated into the SPM English syllabus in 1995. English for Science and Technology (EST) was taught in the science stream in forms four and five (age 16 and 17) and in 1999, the Malaysian University English Test (Muet) became a compulsory subject at the pre-university level (age 18 and 19). Reviving English as part of the education policy was not unique to Malaysia. Sources cited by Dr Tan and Dr Santhiran showed that English was fast replacing other languages in most peripheral-English countries and shared an official language position among 63 nations. In China, learning English had become extensive, involving some 50 million people.

Citing 1994 examination results statistics, 45.5% failed English in the Ujian Pencapaian Sekolah Rendah or UPSR sat by all pupils before completing primary schools (age 12), 41.8% failed English in the Penilaian Menengah Rendah or PMR (age 15) and 34% to 38% failed English in the Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia or SPM (age 17).

In Malaysia, efforts made to improve English proficiency were unfruitful. Poor command of English was a hindrance for many job seekers who were penalised by job market expectations; employers could afford to be selective as an ample supply of graduates could be found after private universities came into existence towards the end of the 1990s. Graduate unemployment became an acute problem, numbering 44,000 in 2002. [2]

Third, the PPSMI debate also extended to proponents of people’s own language or POL that welcomed the liberty to teach science and mathematics using the mother tongue.

The existence of national type Chinese and national type Tamil schools at the primary level meant that use of vernacular as a medium of instruction is allowed. Yet, apprehensions arose when the UPSR science and mathematics examination papers appeared in both Chinese and English. If the popular choice was to answer mathematics examination questions in English, the POL proponents feared that the government would use this as an excuse to have Chinese displaced altogether. They then campaigned among the Chinese community for pupils to answer their examination questions only in Chinese. [3]

Mathematics enquiry must inspire the imagination of the mind, regardless of practicality – not by memorising dry terminologies necessary for good examination grades which are then rapidly forgotten.

Trilingual not bilingual?
Choice of lingua franca is a democratic as well as political issue that cannot be easily resolved, especially in a plural society like Malaysia. However, science and mathematics cannot be made the objects with which to fuel this debate. The reason is that science and mathematics have their own languages, which are best studied independent of the usual languages we speak with.

Learning French or Japanese through English may not be the most effective way to learn the languages (except perhaps during the first few classes); similarly mathematics is best learned using the mathematics language.

The underlying nature of mathematics is abstraction. In the pure sense, mathematics need not even be practical, which prompted Einstein to see it “remarkable that mathematics, a product of human thought independent of experience, is so admirably adapted to the objects of reality”. [4]

For the sake of illustration, take the numbers line being taught in schools. To most people it is made up of natural (tabit) numbers or integers (integer) that is, one, two, three and so on used for counting. The mathematical theories behind integers is known as arithmetic, governed by commutative (kalis tukar tertib), associative (kalis sekutuan) and distributive (kalis agihan) laws. In words, this means one may change the order of numbers for adding or multiplication without affecting the results.

These laws are a few of many more proven laws students have to learn and remember. Yet they are cumbersome to describe when using words – better to just express them as a+b=b+a and ab=ba (commutative law), a+(b+c)=(a+b)+c (associative law) and a(b+c)=ab+ac (distributive law). The faster teachers and students understand, think, and communicate using symbols when dealing with mathematics, the faster the more difficult lessons of mathematics can proceed.

There should not be any argument over what language is the best to use to teach mathematics.

There are other types of numbers in mathematics
If you are a parent and passionate about whether mathematics is best taught in English, Malay, Tamil or Chinese, consider the possibility that your son or daughter comes to you needing help on what the mathematics teacher taught on rational (nombor nisbah) and irrational (nombor tak nisbah) numbers. You cannot hide from the fact that you once learned this in school and it would not be inspiring to admit that you did not understand or have forgotten the answer. The point is lessons are best learned by understanding concepts rather than memorising definitions. Fractions (pecahan) are rational numbers and so giving such an answer would earn one marks during exams, even if that is all one can say about rational numbers. Then what about irrational numbers?

Numbers (integers, rational and irrational) that densely make up the numbers line are called real numbers (nombor nyata). The story does not end here because unsatisfied with the fact that √2 or x2 = 2 has no solution for x, mathematicians have ventured out to create imaginary numbers (nombor khayalan) of the form i2 = -1 and complex numbers (nombor kompleks) like a+bi that enabled solutions to a variety of unsolvable math equations without violating laws governing math.

By understanding better how the different types of numbers relate on the numbers line, find out how your son or daughter is learning the same things in school. Mathematics enquiry must inspire the imagination of the mind, regardless of practicality – not by memorising dry terminologies necessary for good examination grades which are then rapidly forgotten.

From ancient Greece to modern Malaysia – a practical application
When Manaechmus (circa 300 BC) and Apollonius (circa 200 BC) sliced the cone (kon) to see what shapes could be produced, they were unconcerned with their everyday practicality. Note that they were not literally slicing conical objects and examining the pieces. All this was done in abstract. Slicing a cone parallel to the base will produce a circle the size depending on how high up the slice is made. Slicing at an angle gives an ellipse. Too much of an angle and one side of the ellipse would be open giving us a parabola (see Figure 1).

All these conic sections, regardless of how they have been sliced could be described by a single equation. In words, all the points on the line that draws the shape of the conic section have the same ratio in terms of their distance from a fixed point, the focus (fokus), and their distance, x, from a fixed line, the directrix (direktriks). This ratio is called the eccentricity (keeksentrikan), or e. If e=0 we have a circle. If e<1 the shape turns into an ellipse and if e=1 we have a parabola. [5]

Years later when wars were fought, it turned out that fireballs catapulted into the air follow the shape of a parabolic arc. Knowing how to solve distances of the parabola can have these fireballs land with exact precision on enemy positions, rendering lots of damage. Such distances were measured in Euclidian (circa 300 BC) geometry (length, breadth and height) which required lines drawn alongside to be parallel and vertical lines at right angles. It was not until the 19th century when attempts were made to postulate non-Euclidian geometry. One version is elliptical geometry which describes two dimensions (length and breadth) placed on the surface of a sphere. Lines drawn are no longer parallel, but meet at the poles. Proceeding along a line, one would end up back at the same spot after going one complete round.

Imagine then what happens if one lobs fireballs into the air with a very powerful catapult using the equation of the parabola measured in non-Euclidian space? It so happens that if the fireball flies far off beyond the horizon, it will soon fall but cannot land (see Figure 2). Instead it will orbit indefinitely around the earth, pulled by gravity but always falling off the horizon. Thus when Astro wants to position a satellite at a fixed spot above Malaysia along the line of sight from the satellite dish on our roofs, the forward (same as falling) speed, in other words, the centripetal force required to maintain orbit, of Astro’s satellite has to match the rotation of the earth. Solving the equation, a satellite in geostationary (fixed position) orbit has to be at the height of 35,786km up and travelling at 11,068km/hr, making one circle around the earth every 24 hours. [6]

Conclusions
Our debate as Malaysian citizens over language preferences must continue and be given a full airing so that we can better understand how different communities think and what they aspire for. However, mathematics and science must not be made the object upon which to base such a debate. We protest over which language to use to teach mathematics and science, and appear to be less concerned with actual knowledge about the subject matter. We have become preoccupied by the critical importance of our preferred language.

It is fine to use whatever language one sees fit, but one also has to realise that unless students eventually learn to speak in mathematics or science, the further accumulation of knowledge in mathematics and science will forever be restricted and incomplete. In terms of government delivery, why not, instead, press for better teaching and learning of otherwise difficult and apparently dry and uninteresting subjects? The imaginations of young minds can soar above and beyond, free from fears of communal or class conflicts.

Mathematics and science offer the technical tools we need to make such mental flights. As parents we should expect nothing less for our sons and daughters, and for our nation.

Chan Huan Chiang is a senior research fellow at the Penang Institute.