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Chapter 3. Education without a face in the age of existential deficit: how globalization, post-truth, and the politics of meaninglessness dehumanize pedagogy

Korobkina, Tetiana; Dashenkova, Natalia; Myttseva, Olha; Horiachkovska, Hanna; Bakalenko, Olena; Omelchenko, Viktoriia

Abstract

This chapter investigates the existential crisis of contemporary education, emphasizing how globalization, the culture of post-truth, and technocratic discourse contribute to the erosion of human dignity and subjectivity in pedagogy. Despite declarations of placing "the human at the center", education increasingly reduces the learner to a set of functions, competencies, or indicators, resulting in alienation and loss of authentic presence. Drawing on philosophical perspectives from Byung-Chul Han, Martha Nussbaum, Levinas, Foucault, Ricoeur, Buber, and others, the text critically analyzes how managerial language, global rankings, and efficiency-driven reforms depersonalize both teachers and students. The chapter introduces the concepts of "trauma of misrecognition" and "pedagogy of disconnection", highlighting the psychological and ethical consequences of systemic neglect of the individual. As a response, it proposes a linguistic and ethical reconstruction of pedagogy through a "culture of dignity", where words regain their humanizing power, and education is redefined as a space of recognition, presence, and dialogical trust. Ultimately, the chapter argues that restoring language, dignity, and listening as central elements of education is essential for countering existential fragmentation and reclaiming the face of pedagogy.

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70 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 3 Education Without a Face in the Age of Existential Deficit: How Globalization, Post-Truth, and the Politics of Meaninglessness Dehumanize Pedagogy Abstract This chapter investigates the existential crisis of contemporary education, emphasizing how globalization, the culture of post-truth, and technocratic discourse contribute to the erosion of human dignity and subjectivity in pedagogy. Despite declarations of placing "the human at the center", education increasingly reduces the learner to a set of functions, competencies, or indicators, resulting in alienation and loss of authentic presence. Drawing on philosophical perspectives from Byung-Chul Han, Martha Nussbaum, Levinas, Foucault, Ricoeur, Buber, and others, the text critically analyzes how managerial language, global rankings, and efficiency-driven reforms depersonalize both teachers and students. The chapter introduces the concepts of "trauma of misrecognition" and "pedagogy of disconnection", highlighting the psychological and ethical consequences of systemic neglect of the individual. As a response, it proposes a linguistic and ethical reconstruction of pedagogy through a "culture of dignity", where words regain their humanizing power, and education is redefined as a space of recognition, presence, and dialogical trust. Ultimately, the chapter argues that restoring language, dignity, and listening as central elements of education is essential for countering existential fragmentation and reclaiming the face of pedagogy. KEYWORDS Education, pedagogy, globalization, post-truth, dignity, technocratic discourse, recognition, alienation. 3.1 Diagnosis of loss Introduction: Education that has lost its human touch We live in a time when education has found itself at the epicentre of global change – not only technological, economic or political, but above all anthropological. It still functions, reforms, DOI: 10.15587/978-617-8360-20-7.CH3 Tetiana Korobkina, Natalia Dashenkova, Olena Bakalenko, Viktoriia Omelchenko, Olha Myttseva, Hanna Horіachkovska © The Author(s) of chapter, 2025. This is an Open Access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY license 71 chapter 3. Education Without a Face in the Age of Existential Deficit: How Globalization, Post-Truth, and the Politics of Meaninglessness Dehumanize Pedagogy CHAPTER 3 digitises, reports – but at the same time loses its ability to see the human being, hear their requests, respond to their existential challenges. In an era of radical civilisational upheavals – war, climate change, pandemics, algorithmisation of thinking – education, instead of being a response to anxiety and fragmentation, is increasingly becoming yet another tool for managing instability. This sense of loss begins at the level of language. Educational discourse is saturated with terms such as "human capital", "resource provision", "staff efficiency", "knowledge platform", and "education quality management". These formulas are not just stylistic conveniences, but linguistic markers of the loss of a humanistic perspective. A language that thinks of education as a market, people as carriers of competencies, and learning as a certification process excludes the subject of dignity from the pedagogical space [1]. Under the slogans of reform, innovation, and digital transformation, we see not an update of the content of education, but a gradual reduction of the human being to an indicator function. They must "meet requirements", "show results", and "adapt to change". But where is the freedom to think in this? Where is the place for doubt, silence, ethical search, affect? As B.-C. Han notes, in modern productivity culture, "fatigue of being oneself" prevails, and education is increasingly becoming not a space of liberation, but an institution of loss of subjectivity [2]. Against this backdrop, a new anomaly is emerging: a person is physically present in education but ontologically absent. They may have access to knowledge but lose their sense of meaning; they may receive grades but not experience dignity as recognition. This gives rise to the phenomenon of cognitive simulation: learning continues, but without internal growth. All this creates a new pedagogical reality, which would be more accurately called post-education – that is, one that has lost the ability to keep the person at the centre. This process has clear political dynamics. Despite its promise of equality, solidarity and progress, the globalisation of education often turns out to be an architecture of depersonalisation. International rankings, the unification of standards, the managerial logic of universities and ministries – all this produces a model where local ethical contexts, vulnerability and identity are marginalised. Reform becomes a self-sufficient goal, not always taking into account the kind of person it shapes. As a result, educational policy loses its ethical texture, becoming mechanical, fragmented, and devoid of empathy [3]. No less dangerous is the influence of post-truth culture on the educational ecosystem. Today, it is increasingly difficult to maintain a space for critical conversation if it is not administratively or ideologically beneficial. Education that is incapable of telling the truth – about inequality, psychological exhaustion, value disorientation – turns into a simulation of thinking. In an era when truth itself has become the subject of political bargaining, the educational process risks becoming not an intellectual encounter, but a ritual of formal presence without moral weight [4]. But the key challenge lies even deeper than that. It lies in the existential deficit that has become a structural feature of educational existence. Young people who have lived through a pandemic, war, and information collapse are living with the experience of a cancelled future. When the horizon is uncertain, when planetary threats seem insurmountable, when technology is advancing 72 CHAPTER 3 Educational policy and reforms: the impact of globalization faster than ethics, there is a demand not for competence, but for existential support. And this is where education is often powerless: it does not offer answers, does not provide a meaningful framework, does not support people in their moments of anxiety. And that is why dignity becomes not a metaphor, but a practical answer [5]. As M. Nussbaum points out, a democratic society cannot exist without education that fosters emotional literacy, ethical sensitivity, empathy and critical thinking. Education without dignity is education without democracy. Conversely, education in which dignity is not a slogan but a structure of interaction is a space in which freedom is born [6]. This section is not just a critical caveat. It is a manifesto for the return of the human being to the educational perspective. We will show how the logic of globalisation, the language of instrumentalism, the culture of post-truth and existential fragmentation have led to a profound loss of the subject in education. At the same time, we will show how the methodology of the culture of dignity can become the architecture of the ethical reconstruction of education, where every word, every gesture, every structure returns the main content of the educational space – the human being. We no longer live in an era where pedagogy is simply the transmission of knowledge. We live in an era when the question "Why teach?" is increasingly left unanswered. The point of disappearance of meaning is not in the lack of technology, but in the deficit of presence, reciprocity and the meaning of the common "we". It is this existential vacuum that is the main challenge of modern education. We are trying to reform forms, forgetting the fundamental: we have lost the language that is capable of recognising the other. As a result, we have lost our identity: as students, teachers, and as a system. Words have become an interface rather than an address. Rules have become a function rather than an agreement. Trust has become a product rather than a relationship. We do not speak – we function. In this study, we do not just criticise. We are mapping the way back: from depersonalisation to vision, from linguistic amnesia to words that recognise, from institutional automatism to human presence. We will talk about the physicality of dignity, the language of silence, the neuropsychology of trust, the teacher as a bearer of vulnerability and strength at the same time. This text is an attempt not to reform education, but to bring it back to life. Education without faces: how globalisation has erased the human being from pedagogy There is an alarming paradox: at a time when the global educational community declares "the human being at the centre", the human being itself is absent as a living presence in educational policy, pedagogical language, and the structure of educational experience. It has been displaced, delegitimised, replaced by functionality, roles, and indicators. Pedagogy is ceasing to be the art of shaping consciousness and increasingly resembles the logistics of servicing productive bodies, where the subject loses their voice and thinking loses its right to doubt. 73 chapter 3. Education Without a Face in the Age of Existential Deficit: How Globalization, Post-Truth, and the Politics of Meaninglessness Dehumanize Pedagogy CHAPTER 3 This is not a coincidence or linguistic inaccuracy – it is a symptom of globalised logic, which transforms education in the image of the market. The unification of standards, dependence on international ratings, the dominance of English-language formats and bureaucratic hyper-control – all this leaves no room for anything else, for anything untranslatable, for anything affective. And if education is subordinated to global economies, then humanity in it becomes a surplus that cannot be monetised or ranked [7]. Instead of a student, there is a client. Instead of a teacher, there is a provider. Instead of knowledge, there is an educational product. These transformations of language are not neutral. They recode the very essence of the pedagogical experience, reducing it to instruction and transaction. But there is an even subtler disappearance, less noticeable but more destructive. This is the linguistic blindness of education. We no longer know what to call those we teach. Between "pupil", "student", "user", and "client", the face is lost – not just an image, but an ontological identity. Once language loses its ability to address, it loses its ability to recognise. And then pedagogy turns into a system of neutral detachment, in which no one sees anyone anymore – only processes, products, data. In this sense, depersonalisation is not only a political effect but also a semiotic defeat. A system that has no language to denote dignity becomes a system that reproduces its absence. That is why it is important not only to criticise the reform but also to reformulate its discourse, to give it words capable of saying: I see you. As W. Welsh notes, the language of education has become technological, and pedagogy itself has become "post-anthropic" [7]. We no longer ask "What is a dignified person?", we ask "Does he or she meet market expectations?" This shift has profound psychological consequences. Students deprived of the right to make mistakes, to search, to feel anxiety, lose the ability to form an authentic inner "I". Instead, they construct an adaptive "I-competitor", shaped by the logic of external verification. As a result, we do not form a subject, we cultivate a cognitively functional shell that has nothing to do with empathy, dignity or responsibility for the future [8]. At a deeper level, this forms a pedagogy of alienation. Between the student and the teacher there is a contract, between thinking and the programme there is a template, between dialogue and the system there is a protocol. Education becomes silent not because it does not speak, but because it no longer listens. And this is the moment when the face disappears. As Levinas emphasises, true ethics begins when I encounter the face of another [9]. But how can I encounter what the system has learned not to see? No less destructive is the influence of administrative metalanguage, which substitutes meanings: "load" instead of "interaction", "contingent" instead of "community", "quality" as a digital abstraction without questions of dignity or freedom. The language of educational documents has become the grammar of objectification, in which the subject is transformed into an articulated code. This is no longer just functionalism – it is the semiotic erasure of humanity [10]. Such language not only reproduces structures of power – it constructs alienation as the norm. The teacher does not think about trust, he thinks about documentation. The student does 74 CHAPTER 3 Educational policy and reforms: the impact of globalization not talk about anxiety because there is no word in the system with which to articulate it. And this is where language loses its humanistic function – it is no longer recognition, it is control, verification, alienation. It is also important to pay attention to the affective disorientation produced by such an educational structure. When students do not see that their experience is valuable, when teachers are no longer a presence but merely a duty, an affective void arises that absorbs all motivation. People no longer want to learn – not because of laziness, but because they are not heard as subjects of pain and hope [11]. Globalisation, therefore, has not only erased cultural specificity – it has unified silence. What was once the ethical face of education – care, attentiveness, dialogue – has now been replaced by format, deadlines, and electronic chains of control. And that is why there is a need for not a cosmetic but an ontological reform of pedagogy: not about tools, but about encounter. Not about competence, but about dignity. Not about management, but about presence. As S. Krymsky writes, education without a sense of spiritual continuity, without a common horizon, without a language of coexistence, becomes a means of shaping a person without tradition, without a face, without a heart [12]. And so we must ask ourselves: what do we lose when we are no longer able to say to a student, "I see you"? And what will we gain if we dare to say it, despite all the institutional inertia? But perhaps the deepest loss we have experienced is the loss of the word that recognises. Not the word that informs, not the word that evaluates, but the word that addresses. Because pedagogy begins not with reform, but with speech in which the other feels: "you are". And if we really want to turn our faces back to education, we must begin by restoring dignity to speech. More on this later. About words that do not command, but listen. About silence that is not emptiness, but trust. About language that is capable of saying: I see you. Post-truth and the pedagogy of disconnection "To think does not mean to have thoughts. It means to be accountable to yourself and the world for what you believe to be true." (S. Krymsky). We live in an age when truth itself has become vulnerable. Post-truth is not just a political or media strategy, it is an ontological event in which trust, context and responsibility are disintegrating. In the field of education, this collapse takes on a particularly dangerous form – the pedagogy of disconnection, where knowledge loses its ethical quality and teachers lose their ability to be conduits of unifying truth. Education in the post-truth era does not directly deny truth – it dissolves it into an infinity of opinions, impressions and subjective positions. Everything has a right to exist, but nothing has power. In this situation, instead of seeking truth, students seek convenient interpretations, and teachers, in order not to be accused of "forcing truth", hide their intellectual position behind 75 chapter 3. Education Without a Face in the Age of Existential Deficit: How Globalization, Post-Truth, and the Politics of Meaninglessness Dehumanize Pedagogy CHAPTER 3 neutrality. This creates a new form of disconnection: a gap between knowledge and value, between words and reality, between education and life [13]. In such conditions, silence becomes the pedagogical norm. Not silence as depth, but silence as avoidance. The teacher does not dare to call war war, contempt humiliation, populism lies. And the student does not demand the truth because he no longer believes that truth is possible at all. This gives rise to affective amnesia – an emotional habit of not seeing reality in order not to suffer, not to take risks, not to be weak. Thus, the educational space is filled with forms without meaning, identities without subjectivity, and speech without responsibility [14]. In this world, lies encounter no resistance – they are quietly co-opted by the language of education, replacing complex questions with simple frames: "be tolerant", "remain neutral", "appreciate all positions". But such pseudo-pluralistic language does not liberate, it paralyses, because it gives no name to evil, good, strength or weakness. Education becomes a space of total cautious compromise – packaged consent to epistemological emptiness. As M. Nussbaum writes, democracy cannot survive without the ability to speak the truth – not as an objective formula, but as ethical fidelity to human experience [6]. Education that is silent about pain, injustice or distortion is not neutral – it is a participant in alienation. And this is where we encounter what Krymsky called "the loss of truth as the dominant force in culture". Post-truth is not an era without truth. It is an era where teachers are afraid to be truthful and students do not expect to hear the answer. The pedagogy of disconnection is not only something that breaks the relationship between teacher and student. It is something that disconnects a person from their inner moral compass. Knowledge is no longer born as a discovery – it is delivered as a commodity, neutral, safe, sterile. This approach excludes trauma – but it also excludes transformation. And without trauma and truth, there is no becoming. There is only a simulation of learning, in which no one believes anyone else, but everyone politely follows instructions. However, it is precisely at the moment of disconnection that a chance for a new connection arises – not based on sameness, but on trust. Trust is not consensus or tolerance. It is a willingness to be vulnerable to others without demanding guarantees. And this is where education can once again become a space of hope: where truth is not imposed but witnessed; where the teacher does not "have the answers" but shows the courage to be in the question. A return to truth is not a restoration of old authoritarian thinking. It is the discovery of a new pedagogy: ethical, linguistic, trusting. As S. Krymsky wrote, truth is not only what corresponds to facts, but what is internally binding. And this is the kind of education we strive for: not perfect, but honest within the limits of human imperfection. Pedagogy that does not see: the trauma of non-recognition "When the other ceases to be an event, I become a wall to myself." (S. Krymsky). 76 CHAPTER 3 Educational policy and reforms: the impact of globalization In modern education, it is not overt violence that is becoming more common, but silent violence. Not through humiliation, but through a lack of recognition. The student listens, but feels that they are not being heard. The teacher speaks, but does not believe that they are being seen. The classroom, the university lecture hall, even the Zoom lecture become a space of mutual absence, where everyone is physically present, but no one is truly there. This is not just psychological discomfort. It is a pedagogical pathology that A. Honneth described as the trauma of non-recognition: a situation in which the subject does not receive confirmation of their value, existence, or right to be [13]. In such conditions, learning ceases to be an interaction and becomes a procedure. The teacher becomes a speaker without an audience. The student becomes an audience without a listener. And both accumulate a deep anxiety: Is there any point in being here if no one sees me as a living person? Paradoxically, the external activity of the system is increasing: new standards, digitalisation, certifications, grants, inclusion policies. But inside, there is a lack of connection. We increasingly describe the student as a "multifaceted subject of the educational process" – and ask less and less: How do they feel today? Do they trust me? Can I call them by name without documentation? This disconnect between form and presence creates a void – affective, identity-related, ethical. We have learned to measure success, but not to see fatigue. We can calculate attendance rates, but we cannot answer the silent question: am I important to anyone here? And this is where trauma begins. It has no external manifestation. It spreads internally – as an experience of invisibility, as a slow loss of hope that someone will recognise your presence. The trauma of non-recognition is not a one-time act. It is a structural habit of the system to ignore a person as another universe. As neuropsychology shows, recognition activates the same areas of the brain as physical safety [14]. Lack of recognition is an alarm signal that the body and mind interpret as danger. In other words, we are not just dealing with a pedagogical mistake, but with neuropsychological destabilisation that undermines trust in the learning process itself. In this context, it is extremely important to refer to S. Krymsky, who wrote: "A person can endure pain, but cannot endure prolonged indifference. Because indifference is a silent expulsion from culture". And this is exactly what we have in education today: a silent expulsion of dignity through the indifferent norm of not noticing. But there is a way out. And it starts with the simplest thing – the act of pedagogical gaze. From the moment when the teacher does not just read a lecture, but meets someone with their eyes. When the student does not just listen – but feels that someone is looking to see, not to evaluate. This moment is not a technology or a skill. It is the ethics of presence, which cannot be simulated. Pedagogy that recognises this does not guarantee success. But it creates conditions in which a person dares to be themselves. And this is the highest form of education. Because dignity cannot be instilled. But it can be recognised. And this is already the beginning of a different kind of education. 77 chapter 3. Education Without a Face in the Age of Existential Deficit: How Globalization, Post-Truth, and the Politics of Meaninglessness Dehumanize Pedagogy CHAPTER 3 3.2 The linguistic event of dignity Language that betrays: technocracy in educational discourse Technocratic discourse as a betrayal of the humanistic essence of education. Contemporary educational discourse is increasingly taking on the characteristics of technocratic newspeak – a language of numbers, indicators and bureaucratic euphemisms that hide the living essence of pedagogy behind cold terms. This language seems to betray education, replacing its human dimension with the language of managers and administrators. Educational policy operates with categories such as KPI, "contingent", "educational service", "efficiency", "quality" and "subsidy" – concepts borrowed from business and public administration. At first glance, these are neutral, instrumental words. However, their dominance in the educational space has profound anthropological and ethical consequences. Technocratic discourse, while claiming to be "objective" and "rational", actually shapes power over minds, standardises thinking, and depersonalises participants in the educational process. As M. Foucault notes, discourse is a vehicle of power: through language, institutions establish what is considered truth and which subjects must obey this "truth". In the field of education, this means that technocratic newspeak imposes its own "regime of truth": only that which can be quantitatively measured, standardised and controlled is considered true. Everything else – individual experiences, creativity, the ethical dimension of learning – is declared secondary or invisible. It is no coincidence that Foucault compared schools to factories and prisons, where the goal is to "define, classify, control and standardise people" [15]. The technocratic language of education serves the same purpose: through seemingly neutral terms, it establishes disciplinary power over students and teachers, turning them into objects of management. Such a "language of domination" reproduces hierarchy: the subject of speech (administrative authority) pronounces normative truth, and the speakers of the language of education (students, teachers) must comply with it. However, language is not only an instrument of power, but also an ethical space for communication. P. Ricoeur noted that speech is always an action for which we are responsible [16]. When education leaders refer to students as a "contingent" or "human capital", they are performing a linguistic act that has ethical weight: such words reduce a unique personality to a statistical unit or resource. According to P. Ricœur, language creates the reality of relationships, and the speaker bears moral responsibility for the meaning created. Thus, technocratic rhetoric in education is not just a style, but an act of linguistic objectification that influences people's self-perception. Instead, according to P. Ricœur, a humanistic approach would require language rooted in the ideas of mutual recognition and responsibility. By calling a student a "person in development" instead of "capital", we act ethically, recognising their subjectivity and uniqueness. Similarly, M. Buber, in his dialogical philosophy, showed the gap between the I–You and I–It relationships. Technocratic language inclines educators towards the I–It relationship: the student appears as "input data", "product of educational services" or "unit of funding" – an object that is 78 CHAPTER 3 Educational policy and reforms: the impact of globalization treated according to a scheme. Instead, a culture of dignity requires the restoration of the I–You relationship, where the teacher and student interact as equal bearers of human dignity. If a university administrator thought in terms of I–You, they would not use the word "contingent" – instead, they would speak of an "academic community" where each student is a unique "You" rather than an impersonal number. Buber's approach adds an ironic humanistic accent: when we refer to people in accounting terms, we not only demean them, we impoverish ourselves, losing the true encounter with the Other. The irony is that a system that prides itself on the "quality of education" risks losing the highest quality of all: the humanity of relationships. Transversality versus one-dimensional thinking The one-sidedness of technocratic discourse has been well criticised by contemporary philosophers of rationality. W. Welsch introduces the concept of transversal intelligence – the ability of the mind to cross different dimensions of meaning and rationality without getting stuck in one narrow discourse [17]. Classical technocracy relies on one-dimensional instrumental intelligence, which reduces everything to quantitative indicators and standards. W. Welsch emphasises that true intelligence differentiates and combines different types of rationality – scientific-quantitative, ethical, and aesthetic. Education, by its very nature, is a field where these diverse dimensions intersect: it is the transfer of knowledge (cognitive rationality), the cultivation of values (moral rationality), and a space for inspiration and creativity (aesthetic dimension). Technocratic language, on the other hand, narrows the horizon to a single dimension – efficiency, measured in numbers. This leads to a sharp narrowing of the culture of thinking: from a polyphony, it turns into the monotonous voice of statistics. Welsh's approach requires a transversal shift: in order to overcome the crisis of meaning, educational discourse must learn to switch between different languages – the language of numbers and the language of meanings, the language of facts and the language of values – and seek connections between them. The irony is that true "quality of education" is born not from an obsession with monotonous KPIs, but from the plasticity of thinking, capable of accommodating STEM, humanities, and existential dimensions. One-dimensional language deprives education of this flexibility, turning it into a caricature of itself – a school for robots, not for people. The loss of "aura" and the logic of presence Another consequence of technocratic domination is the "disenchantment" of educational language, the loss of its atmosphere, or aura in W. Benjamin's terms. Benjamin introduced the concept of aura when describing the unique "presence of the distant" – the unique soul of a work of art that disappears with mass reproduction. A parallel can be drawn: the traditional language of 85 chapter 3. Education Without a Face in the Age of Existential Deficit: How Globalization, Post-Truth, and the Politics of Meaninglessness Dehumanize Pedagogy CHAPTER 3 P. Palmer, in his pedagogy of wholeness, puts it simply: "Teaching is not the transmission of information, but the presence before truths that are greater than ourselves". This means that pedagogical speech should be open, listening, not completely controlled. The language of education should not sound like a Google calendar. It should be a little tremulous. A little alive. A little ours. P. Palmer says that fear is the main barrier to dignified speech. Because we are afraid of not knowing, of making mistakes, of saying something that is not protocol. But to acknowledge this fear – and still speak from the heart – is an act of pedagogical courage. H.-G. Gadamer and H. U. Humbrecht: Language as co-existence. In his hermeneutic project, H.-G. Gadamer argued that understanding is only possible in dialogue, when we are ready to listen as if the Other might be right. H. U. Gumbrecht adds: understanding is not just deciphering meanings, but being present. Therefore, educational language that strives for dignity is not one that explains, but one that is present. It does not proclaim, but shares breath. Glossary of linguistic return. We already began this process in the previous section, and here we continue: 1. Bureaucratic expression – Linguistic alternative of the culture of dignity. 2. Contingent – Academic community. 3. Human capital – Personal dignity in development. 4. Effectiveness of learning – Meaningful depth of learning experience. 5. KPI – Dynamics of meaning and growth. 6. Quality of education – Harmonious personal growth. 7. Educational service – Call to joint learning. 8. Professional neutrality – Presence with recognition of others. When speech returns, personality returns. A language that recognises others does not need protocol. It is not rushed. It breathes. A word that can say "you" already transforms learning into an encounter rather than a function. This is not pathos, not a metaphor – it is the deepest work of a culture of dignity, which begins with a phrase that sees. S. Krymsky wrote: "There is no other way to a person except that which is paved with words, with an address that recognises". We must not simply bring people back to education. We must bring them back to sentences. To addresses. To language that does not betray. "Let me be inspired", said education itself, which finally took off its formal clothes, stood barefoot and asked, "Let me be alive again". The poetics of education as the ethics of listening "Culture begins with learning to hear not only ourselves." (S. Krymsky). In an age when everyone speaks but no one listens, pedagogical listening becomes a radical act of humanity. It is not a communication skill or a soft skill. It is an ethical act, profound and 86 CHAPTER 3 Educational policy and reforms: the impact of globalization defenceless. The ability to listen in education is not a method, but a prerequisite for a dignified encounter in which the Other has the right not only to speak, but to exist in the word without having to fight for it. Listening is a way of recognising the other as a source of truth, not as a backdrop for one's own expertise. Listening is a renunciation of the monopoly on meaning. And that is why true listening is always a little dangerous: it changes the listener. H.-G. Gadamer: Dialogue in which truth lies between. H.-G. Gadamer emphasised that understanding is never the act of a single subject. True understanding arises in dialogue, in the "fusion of horizons" – when my experience encounters yours, and we are both no longer the same as we were before [18]. To listen means to admit that the Other may be right. It does not mean to agree. It means to open the door to a meaning that is not mine. And when we transfer this to pedagogy, it becomes obvious: a teacher who does not listen does not teach – he reads a monologue against the backdrop of living beings. Listening is a refusal to finalise meaning. Therefore, in an educational space dominated by control, protocols and standardised answers, listening seems suspicious. Because where there is listening, there is a chance for the unexpected. And that means freedom. The irony is that many universities already offer courses in "critical thinking", but there are almost no courses in "critical listening". Because listening is not as prestigious as speaking. H. U. Gumbrecht: A presence that cannot be measured. H. U. Gumbrecht introduces a bold idea into pedagogy: not everything that is important can be represented. There is something that cannot be explained, translated into numbers or texts. This is presence. When we listen, we do not just perceive information. We are there, we share the silence, we create a space in which the Other is not afraid to appear. H. U. Gumbrecht calls this "presence production" – an act in which we allow things to be around us without demanding meaning or productivity from them [18]. In the classroom, this means that a teacher who listens is not just a "tolerant" educator. They are someone who creates an environment in which students dare to speak truthfully. Not for evaluation. Not for approval. Simply to be heard. P. Freire: Listen to those whom no one has heard. P. Freire warned: the silence of the oppressed is not the absence of a voice. It is the absence of a listener. In the pedagogy of oppression, the teacher is the microphone of the system, not the ear of the person. But when we listen to the student not as imperfect, but as an equal partner in the search for truth, we open up a space for liberation. Listening is the first step towards dignity. Because liberation does not begin with slogans, but with someone daring to speak, knowing that they will not be interrupted. Listening is a way to give space to trauma, experience, memory – without interpretation or correction. Sometimes the best pedagogical action is not to respond, but to leave a silence in which the word is still maturing. 87 chapter 3. Education Without a Face in the Age of Existential Deficit: How Globalization, Post-Truth, and the Politics of Meaninglessness Dehumanize Pedagogy CHAPTER 3 S. Krymsky: Silence that acknowledges. S. Krymsky wrote: "There is the silence of indifference and the silence of love. The first erases. The second acknowledges". In pedagogy, silence is usually interpreted as a failure: the student did not answer, the teacher did not continue, time stopped. But in a culture of dignity, silence is a form of listening, of coexistence without pressure. It is not silence as the absence of sound, but silence as a space where one can be uncertain, weak, incomplete – and not be devalued. The educational poetics of silence is when we listen not only to words, but also to the silence between them. In a classroom where there is such silence, a student can feel for the first time in their life that they are not being evaluated – they are being waited for. Poetics as ethics: speech that does not interrupt. Poetics in education is not decoration or style. It is a form of respect. When words do not cut, but open. When intonation does not dictate, but invites. When a phrase sounds not like a command, but like a gentle unfolding of space for the Other. Poetics is not about "saying it beautifully". It is about saying it in such a way that the Other can be there. Poetic thinking is when you do not try to say everything at once. It is when you leave room in a phrase for the other to breathe. It is when a sentence does not close off meaning, but opens the door to it. Glossary of listening: 1. Educational stamp – Alternative to the culture of dignity. 2. Conducting a class – Co-presence in the space of meaning. 3. Knowledge control – Supporting development. 4. Lecturer's monologue – Open search dialogue. 5. Activation of attention – Invitation to mutual listening. 6. Student response – Meaningful event of the meeting. 7. Speech methodology – Ethics of listening. Afterword: to listen is to believe that the Other exists. Listening in education is not a technique. It is an anthropological position. It is a statement: I believe that you exist, even if you are still silent. It is a willingness to wait, not to rush, to let words happen. The poetics of listening is when you don't just let the Other speak, but allow them to be. At a time when the language of education increasingly sounds like noise, listening becomes an ethic of resistance. And if we return this ethic to the heart of pedagogy, perhaps education will begin to speak with us again. And not just to us. "There is silence that erases. But there is silence that embraces." (S. Krymsky). Silence in the classroom: presence without domination Among all educational tools, the least understood remains... silence. It is either seen as a technical pause – "a moment for recording" – or as a symptom – "students are inactive". But in 88 CHAPTER 3 Educational policy and reforms: the impact of globalization a culture of dignity, silence is a place of presence where the teacher does not demonstrate, does not pressure, does not control, but simply is. Silence does not always mean passivity. Sometimes it means a willingness not to destroy the Other with a ready-made answer. H. U. Gumbrecht wrote about physical presence as "the effect of resonating silence" [19]. Educational silence is not a breakdown in communication, but an internal pause for the birth of meaning. Not everything has to be said. Some things have to be endured. In such silence, the teacher ceases to be a source of knowledge and becomes a condition for the unfolding of the student's thinking. It is a silence that does not correct. It believes in the process of maturation. It is silence as a form of respect that sounds louder than any explanation. S. Krymsky spoke of "ethical silence" as a space where words have not yet become dominant, but are already an invitation. Sometimes being silent nearby is saying, "I am here. And I will not demand that you respond immediately". Silence without coercion. There is silence that oppresses – the silence of fear. And there is sacred pedagogical silence. This is where students do not "give the right answer" but listen to themselves for the first time. This is when the classroom becomes a place of internal dialogue – uninterrupted by the clicking of slides. Paradox: the best questions come not when you ask them, but when you don't interfere with them coming. A brief summary – not with your voice. Being present does not always mean speaking. Sometimes it means being there without taking up space for the Other. Silence is not empty. Silence is full of trust. 3.3 Dignity as a methodology Dignity: not a slogan, but the epistemology of coexistence "Dignity is not something that is declared. It is how you treat the Other when no one is keeping score". Dignity is a word with a public biography: it is displayed in manifestos, incorporated into codes of corporate ethics, and used to embellish reform strategies. But the louder it is proclaimed, the more often it loses its ability to look you in the eye. In pedagogy, dignity risks becoming a "label of humanism" which, in essence, often changes nothing in the structure of relationships. We propose something else: to see dignity not as a slogan, but as a method of cognition, not as a declaration, but as an epistemology of coexistence. Because it is through dignity that we not only learn something about the Other – we never remain the same. We become someone new in the presence of the Other. This moment of transformation – subtle, not always noticeable, but deeply 89 chapter 3. Education Without a Face in the Age of Existential Deficit: How Globalization, Post-Truth, and the Politics of Meaninglessness Dehumanize Pedagogy CHAPTER 3 human – is the beginning of dignity as a cognitive experience. It is in this change, in openness to influence, that a new epistemology is born: not instrumental, but relational. Not object-oriented, but encounter-oriented. Traditional educational epistemology is tied to rationality, objectivity, and controlled knowledge. It presupposes a subject that observes, interprets, and evaluates. But in interaction with a living person, knowledge rarely arises as control. It appears where there is trust, openness, and a shared moment. Dignity is when I do not view you as an object of my certainty, but recognise your ability to be a source of meaning. The formula of the epistemology of dignity does not sound like "I know more", but rather "we create knowledge together, even if it puts us in an awkward position". And therein lies the radical difference between dignified pedagogy and its authoritarian shadow. But the shadow fears openness. Dignified pedagogy, on the contrary, trusts vulnerability as a space for thinking. That is why, when we rethink intelligence in the paradigm of a culture of dignity, we move away from the image of the "winner of the discussion". Intelligence is no longer a means of domination, but a form of hospitality, a way of inviting the Other into one's space of mental effort without requiring them to prove their worth. It is in this context that P. Palmer speaks of "the integrity of teaching" as a willingness not only to know, but also to be vulnerable in knowledge, as the courage of a teacher to be unprotected by a scheme, but present in thought. "A true teacher is one who risks being in knowledge rather than above knowledge" [20]. Decent pedagogy does not ask "Are you worthy of being heard?", it asks "How can I listen so that your opinion is heard?". This is not the intellect of a winner, but the intellect of a guest. One that opens up space – rather than appropriating it for oneself. Cognition as co-existence. Knowledge in a culture of dignity is always an encounter, not a monologue. P. Ricoeur argued that any knowledge about the Other is already an act of ethical influence [21]. In the educational space, this means that the teacher does not simply formulate the truth, but influences who their student can be within the limits of this truth. The epistemology of coexistence is when I think not about you, but with you. When I do not form an idea about you, I form an idea together with you. Here, knowledge is not transmitted – it matures in reciprocity. Not as an instruction, but as a mutual willingness not to have the last word. Anti-slogan. Dignity that really works never needs loud words. Its presence is felt not in manifestos, but in intonation, in the pause before answering, in the willingness to listen, even when it is uncomfortable. This is not a decoration of reform – it is an ethical mode of everyday life. Education in dignity is not about standards. It is about ensuring that no one is reduced to a standard. Dignity is not a bonus to a successful education policy. It is the point from which policy begins or falls apart. 90 CHAPTER 3 Educational policy and reforms: the impact of globalization An ironic postscript. The irony is that today the word "dignity" often appears in missions, on websites, and in university branding. But branding does not save from humiliation. And if objectification, contempt or hierarchical deafness reign in the internal communication space, no text can cover up the silence in which a person is invisible. Because dignity does not begin with a formulation. It begins with a gaze that does not evaluate but recognises. Affective pedagogy: presence, body, and responsibility "We teach not only the brain. We teach presence. And presence is always a body that feels something, even when it is silent". Why are affects important in education? Education has long tried to eradicate affect. It was built as if a person were only a mind, disconnected from the body. The less emotion, the more efficiency. The less body, the more objectivity. But the body does not disappear. It sits silently in classes, breathes in lecture halls, goes numb during exams, and gets tired when it is not heard. Affects are not the "emotional side of teaching". They are a fundamental condition of human interaction that either ignites thinking or blocks it. M. Nussbaum convincingly argues in her book "Political Emotions" that emotions are not subjective noise, but the ethical compass of democratic culture [22]. In pedagogy, it is the same: emotions do not interfere, they indicate whether there is a connection. If a student does not trust, they do not think, they defend themselves. The body in the classroom: presence without permission. M. Merleau-Ponty argued: "I am my body. I perceive, therefore I am physically present" [23]. The body is not just a "brain carrier". It is a subject of perception that constantly feels: safety, threat, pressure, silence, support or control. Pedagogy that ignores the body is pedagogy that misses the person. A student's body does not read the content of slides, but rather the tone of the teacher's voice, their fatigue, sincerity, presence or absence. The body is the first audience to react even before the brain has formulated "understood". Affective resonance: why it affects us. H. Rosa speaks of "resonance" as an existential criterion of authenticity: if an event does not affect you, you are not in a relationship with it. In pedagogy, this means that learning without affect is not a relationship, but a transfer of data. Affects are the echoes of truth in the body. When something bothers, moves, or irritates you, it is a signal: meaning has entered the zone of your living presence. And pedagogy that does not create resonance creates indifference. Indifference is the real loss of pedagogical connection. Responsibility is not control, but openness. P. Ricoeur interpreted responsibility as a response to the invitation of the Other [21]. In pedagogy, this means not "managing a group" but being in sensitive coexistence with it. 91 chapter 3. Education Without a Face in the Age of Existential Deficit: How Globalization, Post-Truth, and the Politics of Meaninglessness Dehumanize Pedagogy CHAPTER 3 The teacher should not control emotions. They should be open to their presence, recognising that in every pair there are not only notes, but also experiences of loss, anxiety, shame, inspiration – and that this is precisely what constitutes the content of the learning process. Control is fear of life. Responsibility is trust in life, even in its unpredictability. Modesty of presence. S. Krymsky wrote: "A teacher is not a demonstrator of knowledge. It is a person who has the courage to be present where others seek protection in patterns". [24] Presence does not mean being perfect. It means being human, embodied, tangible. Saying "I don't know" is not a weakness, but an example. Hearing a student's emotion is not emotional vulnerability, but ethical action. In a culture of dignity, emotions are not forbidden territory. They are a source of depth. The body is not a shadow of thought. It is a form of thought. And responsibility is not accountability. It is the ability to be together without hiding. Education for vulnerable people: trauma-informed humanism "We do not teach abstract minds. We teach people who have experienced loss. And continue to learn – even through pain". Trauma-informed as the ethics of acknowledging pain. Ukrainian education in the 21st century is forced to work with trauma that is not an individual pathology, but a mass experience. War, forced displacement, loss of home or loved ones, social turbulence, the legacy of post-totalitarian schooling – all of this affects the internal architecture of a student, even when they remain silent [25, 26]. Traditional academic culture was not prepared for such a scale of vulnerability. It thought in terms of "success" and "motivation", but did not ask: what to do when a person is barely holding on? The trauma-informed approach is not therapy, but the pedagogy of ethical listening. It recognises that learning is impossible when the brain is still in "survival" mode [25, 27]. Trauma-informed humanism is education that does not ask "why are you so weak", but asks "what happened to you – and how can I be there for you?". The teacher as a bearer of safe presence. In conditions of mass trauma, the teacher ceases to be merely a bearer of knowledge – they become a figure of safety regulation. Their voice, gaze, and reaction can either calm or activate triggers. The trauma-informed approach invites the teacher to a different presence: not as a judge or lecturer, but as a source of support that does not humiliate [28]. Neuropsychology confirms that when the brain is under chronic stress, its learning centres are blocked. Hyperactivation of the amygdala, suppression of the hippocampus, and disruption of cortisol regulation all make memorisation and thinking nearly impossible [29, 30]. Only the sense of security that comes from the presence of a stable, friendly figure allows the nervous system to "return" to learning. 92 CHAPTER 3 Educational policy and reforms: the impact of globalization A trauma-informed teacher does not "admit" a student to knowledge. They create a space in which the student can be present – with all their experiences, including pain. The educational environment: a space for re-traumatisation or healing? University is not just a programme. It is an environment that either heals or deepens wounds. Anything can be a trigger: the tone of the teacher, the atmosphere of the exam, the lack of choice, an unexpected task, silent humiliation in the group. Trauma-informed pedagogy asks not only "what we teach", but also how we remain silent, how we look, how we listen. Research confirms that spaces where students feel emotionally and physically safe have higher academic results, fewer dropouts, and greater engagement [31]. Simply implementing flexible deadlines, breaks for regulation, rooms for silence or psychological support will not "spoil students" but will make them capable of learning. The body remembers, and silence acknowledges. B. van der Kolk wrote: "The body keeps the score" [32]. Even when the mind wants to forget the trauma, the body reacts to signals as if they were a threat. And then the student is seemingly in the classroom, but in reality – in another reality: muffled, heightened, dominated by fear, shame, confusion. Dignity pedagogy must recognise these signals – alienation, avoidance, withdrawal – and not perceive them as "problematic behaviour". Trauma-informed means seeing the person, not just their reaction. Sometimes the most important gesture is silence. Silence that does not rush, does not force a response, does not pressure with a "plan". It is silence that is close by. S. Krymsky called this "silent solidarity" – a presence that acknowledges suffering without objectifying it [26, 33]. Academic coldness as a form of defence. Paradox: it is precisely those who should be most sensitive to vulnerability – the academic community – who have often cultivated a culture of "neutral detachment". Professionalism has been equated with coldness. Objectivity – with disembodiment. But in reality, it is a defence against affect. Against the fear of not being able to cope if you allow yourself to feel [31], [34]. Trauma-informed pedagogy does not reject reason. It simply does not reject the person who cries under its weight. Pedagogy of empathy and trust: an investment in recovery. Empathy is not weakness. It is a condition for resilience. Trust is not naivety, but an invitation to responsibility without humiliation. Trauma-informed humanism is not about comfort. It is about recognition that gives strength. A student who feels seen is more likely to learn, take risks, try, make mistakes, and not disappear from the classroom – because it no longer seems hostile [31, 35]. Education without dignity repeats trauma. Education with dignity opens up the future. Psychoanalysis of pedagogical fear: what is repressed and why it is silenced. "Pedagogy that fears its own humanity represses not only emotions – it represses itself". 93 chapter 3. Education Without a Face in the Age of Existential Deficit: How Globalization, Post-Truth, and the Politics of Meaninglessness Dehumanize Pedagogy CHAPTER 3 Fear as the shadow of the profession. In the collective imagination, a teacher is someone who knows, keeps the class under control, manages the process, and does not allow weakness to control them. This image is functional but incomplete. Because in its shadow lives fear: of not being authoritative enough, of making a mistake in public, of losing control, of not meeting expectations. Freud would call this repression: when we avoid conscious contact with what threatens our ego, we hide it under a layer of protective behaviours [36]. In the context of education, these protective forms often take the form of: – methodological rigidity; – emotional neutrality; – evaluative authoritarianism; – silence that masks fatigue and anxiety. The teacher and the shadow: a Jungian perspective. C. Jung spoke of the "shadow" as that part of the psyche that we do not recognise in ourselves, but which still acts. The shadow of a teacher is not a "dark side", but a vulnerable, human part that is afraid of being ridiculed or rejected. Authoritarianism in the classroom is often not a sign of strength, but a fear of revealing weakness. When a teacher forbids students from speaking "off topic", it may be hiding their own anxiety about losing control of the discourse. When the phrase "we're not here to talk about emotions" is uttered, it often sounds like an unconscious cry: "don't make me feel what I can't bear myself". Pedagogical silence: not quiet, but a symptom. Sometimes silence reigns in the classroom. But this silence can be different. There is the silence of listening – a space where meaning matures. And there is the silence of avoidance – when both sides are afraid to say something that will reveal their true presence. A teacher's silence is sometimes not restraint, but a protective isolation of affect, a classic psychoanalytic mechanism that allows one to "survive" but blocks contact [37]. Containers that cannot withstand. D. Winnicott described the "holding" figure – father, therapist, teacher – as a container for the emotions of another. But not every teacher is capable of performing this function. If the student's emotions are too strong, too real, too familiar, the teacher begins to close off – either disciplinarily, methodically, or sarcastically. We hide behind "structure" because we do not have the mental endurance to withstand affect. This is an important point: this is not an accusation, but sympathy for the inner fatigue of the teacher, who constantly holds, restrains, shapes – but who is not held, recognised, or listened to. R. Kegan: fear of transformation. R. Kegan wrote that real changes in consciousness are a loss of stable identity, which is always painful. When we demand that teachers "be open", "be empathetic", "be vulnerable", we are demanding a psychological transformation that not everyone is ready for [38]. Sometimes teachers do not resist new practices. They resist the loss of the old "self" that somehow gave them support. 94 CHAPTER 3 Educational policy and reforms: the impact of globalization Language as a mask. The stereotypical "professional language" of education – restrained, emotionless, abstract – is sometimes just rationalisation. It allows them not to say: "I am scared when students ignore me"; "I don't know how to react to tears in the classroom"; "it hurts me when I see indifference". A teacher who does not talk about fear is not always brave. He may be more afraid for his students. What to do about it? Do not "re-educate" the teacher. Do not "instruct" them. Instead, create a space where the teacher can be a presence rather than a function. Where they are held as they hold others . Where fear is not condemned but spoken about, and thus loses its power. Because the scariest thing is not having the right to be afraid. And it is precisely the culture of dignity in education that is a culture where teachers have the right to be vulnerable. And at the same time, no less dignified. 3.4 RESISTANCE AS A FORM OF HOPE "That which resists is not yet broken. That which thinks is still breathing". Pedagogical inertia and automatism: escape from freedom We are accustomed to believing that education is synonymous with development, progress, and change. This is part of the great educational myth – that each generation learns better than the previous one; that school or university is a natural incubator of the new; that the very act of teaching is an act of renewal. But what if education is not only a vector forward, but also a mechanism for consolidating the familiar? What if, at certain historical moments, it does not serve as a breakthrough, but rather as a stabilising force in conditions of existential chaos? What if it does not lead us forward, but protects us from collapse – not people, but structures, formats, methodologies, hierarchies? In this light, education appears not as a space for change, but as a ritual of preserving form, even if its inner content has faded, dissolved, and been reduced to a template. 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