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A few months ago, National Public Radio was running a series called "Letters to the President," in which various experts weighed in with advice for President Obama on pressing topics: health care, national security, the economy, the environment. Then came the one that was on education.

There were three people interviewed. A person from a conservative think tank led off with a call for standing tough on NLCB-style accountability and for alternatives to the public education system like charter schools and vouchers. She also took a swipe at teachers' unions.  Then one of Obama's education advisors said the president needs to avoid the stale skirmishes - for example, over NCLB - and put forth a bold initiative, like merit pay for teachers. The third speaker was from another advocacy group and spoke to the need to change our beliefs that poor kids can't achieve in school.

Regardless of the merits of what each person said, I couldn't help but notice that all three were from the policy world. There were no teachers or principals interviewed for this "Letter to the President." There were no parents interviewed (though of course the three speakers might have kids in school, but they didn't speak in that capacity). There were no youth workers, no one from social services. There were no educational researchers. And there were no artists or writers or scientists or diplomats. And there were no students.

The NPR spot illustrates a big part of the problem with our national discussion of education, such as it is. It is dominated by policy analysts and advocates, by institutes and think tanks. And those folks have the ear of media; it's part of what they do, part of the professional network.

And there's a bigger issue here, one that has to do with the nature of policy formation itself. Public policy in the United States is grounded on a technocratic managerial ideology that privileges systems thinking, abstract models of human and institutional behavior, finding the large-scale economic, social, or organizational levers to pull to initiate change. This broad view has its value to be sure-is rich in legislative, legal, and economic knowledge-but it is often accompanied by an unfortunate and counter-productive tendency; the devaluing of on-the-ground, local, and craft knowledge. In the case of education, pedagogical wisdom and experiential knowledge of schools is at best tolerated but more often dismissed as a soft or irrelevant distraction.

Though "qualified teachers" are praised in public documents and speeches, teachers are often pegged as the problem. And classroom knowledge is trivialized. Teaching or running a school is characterized as just not that hard. And the field of education in general is bemoaned as bereft of talent. I've heard these phrases. The sad and astounding fact is that at the state and federal level there is little deep understanding of the intricacies of teaching and learning involved in the formation of educational policy.

Barack Obama wants to build bridges, to build consensus. He'll need to work some magic or exert some will in the Washington education policy community, will need to open up that culture to the wisdom of the schoolhouse. For the history of public policy failure-in health care, in agriculture, in urban planning, in education-is littered with cases where local knowledge and circumstance were ignored.

Mike Rose, The Mind at Work, Possible Lives, Lives on the Boundary, public education, American workers, books, Penguin Books