The knowledge worker comes to Turkey

by Andrew P. Madden

Turkey is eager for change. And, to be sure, the Turks are comfortable with attempts at ambitious, even radical, transformation. Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the country’s legendary modernizer, who founded the Republic of Turkey in 1923 and ruled until 1938, introduced sweeping ecomomic and social reforms. He even went so far as to impose a new alphabet.

When contemplating change, countries with emerging economies—like Turkey—are increasingly captivated by the idea of the "knowledge-based society." In an effort to catch up to the swiftly moving Information Age, the bureaucrats in these countries rightly believe that the shift to economic prosperity will require a move from agricultural and manufacturing endeavors, to more cerebral pursuits like computer programming. They want to create "knowledge workers."

But what is a knowledge worker and how do you build one? In Turkey, as in many countries, the belief is that one can be manufactured through some combination of technology and education. In particular, Turkish bureaucrats plan to achieve their goal by bringing technology into the classroom.

Ataturk’s spirit of modernization is still a source of inspiration for the Turks. Everywhere I went, from meetings with large electronics manufacturers in Istanbul to the bedraggled offices of the Ministry of Education in the capital city of Ankara, the Turks spoke of their desire to live in an information-based economy. "We want this to be a country where new technologies are born," one government official told me. "Our success will depend on how well we manage the transition to a knowledge-based society."

And quite literally, Ataturk remains omnipresent. In every meeting I attended, some variation of an Ataturk portrait, in which he looks characteristically stern, loomed over the conference room. Despite his severe countenance, Ataturk seems to provide a soothing reminder to the people of Turkey that they have embraced radical transformation before.

As for the proper uses of technology as an academic tool, the Turks don’t seem as concerned with the nature of education as they do with getting their hands on some flashy new hardware. For example, at the Ministry of Education in Ankara, the assistant Minister told me that the last great technological advent to be introduced into the Turkish educational system was the film projector. The lobby of the Ministry even features a kind of museum display of the various projector models which were deployed throughout Turkey’s classrooms. More recently, televisions have been used. In fact, the assistant Minister had a television in his office that he, somewhat curiously, decided to leave on for our entire meeting. Over the din of a Turkish game show, he described an ambitious plan that would provide new computers to even the poorest of areas in the eastern reaches of Turkey.

Turkey’s instinct to bring computers into the educational system is a good one. The country has negotiated with the World Bank to finance the project and will use part of a $300 million loan to complete its plan. But obtaining the technology is only half the battle. What will they have accomplished once they’ve replaced chalk boards and film projectors with PCs? Even in the United States, debates rage on about the perils of thrusting technology into the classroom without proper instruction. Staunch critics say technology can never be an adequate surrogate for book learnin’.

But knowledge workers, if we must use that label, aren’t created overnight. Back in the rug bazaars of Istanbul, where sellers earn their wage from an ancient craft and potential buyers are soothed by sweetened tobaccos and apple-flavored teas, technology and its promise seem distant.