The landscape of American education is littered with pedagogical shifts, discarded methodologies, and cyclical debates over how best to impart knowledge to the next generation. Amidst this historical backdrop lies the work of Zig Engelmann, a figure whose influence on instructional theory remains both profound and contentious. In the third episode of the second season of the investigative podcast Sold a Story, produced by APM Reports, listeners are invited to examine "The Forgotten Experiment"—a pivotal moment in educational history that sought to determine the efficacy of "Direct Instruction" (DI) on a massive scale.
The Genesis of Direct Instruction
To understand the weight of the experiment discussed in this episode, one must first grasp the philosophy of Direct Instruction. Developed in the 1960s, DI is a model of teaching that emphasizes highly structured, sequenced, and scripted lessons. Unlike student-centered or inquiry-based approaches that were gaining traction during the mid-20th century, Engelmann’s model relied on explicit, teacher-led instruction designed to ensure mastery of foundational skills.
Engelmann argued that if a student failed to learn, the failure rested with the instruction provided rather than the student’s innate cognitive ability. This was a radical departure from the prevailing psychological theories of the era, which often attributed academic struggles to developmental readiness or home environment. By the time the federal government began looking for ways to address the achievement gap in low-income schools, Engelmann’s systematic approach appeared to be a compelling candidate for large-scale implementation.
Project Follow Through: The Largest Experiment in Education
The "forgotten experiment" referenced in the podcast is known formally as Project Follow Through. Launched in 1967 as part of President Lyndon B. Johnson’s "War on Poverty," Project Follow Through was designed to provide additional support to children from low-income families who had participated in Head Start programs. It eventually became the largest and most expensive educational experiment ever conducted in the United States, spanning more than a decade and involving hundreds of thousands of students across 180 communities.
The federal government sought to compare various educational models to determine which were most effective at raising test scores in reading, math, and language. Researchers evaluated everything from traditional classroom structures to open-classroom models and, crucially, Direct Instruction.
The Chronology of Disillusionment
The timeline of Project Follow Through is a study in political and pedagogical friction:
- 1967: The Office of Education launches Project Follow Through to sustain the gains made by children in the Head Start program.
- 1968–1976: Implementation begins. The government funds diverse "models" of instruction to see which produces the best outcomes for students from disadvantaged backgrounds.
- 1976: Data collection concludes. The results, analyzed by researchers at Abt Associates, show that Direct Instruction consistently outperformed other models in basic skills, cognitive development, and self-esteem metrics.
- 1977–1980: Instead of becoming the standard-bearer for federal education policy, the results are met with intense skepticism and administrative pushback. The bureaucratic apparatus of the Department of Education, often aligned with more progressive pedagogical theories, effectively marginalizes the findings.
- 1980s and Beyond: The findings are largely omitted from mainstream educational discourse, leading to a decades-long decline in the adoption of explicit, systematic instruction in favor of approaches like "Whole Language" or "Balanced Literacy."
The Conflict Between Evidence and Ideology
The central tension explored in Sold a Story is why such clear, empirical evidence was cast aside. Analysts and historians suggest that the results of Project Follow Through were uncomfortable for the educational establishment. The success of Direct Instruction suggested that schools could and should be held strictly accountable for student outcomes—a concept that conflicted with the prevailing belief that teachers should have autonomy to design their own curricula and that academic performance was heavily dictated by socioeconomic factors.
Furthermore, the scripted nature of Direct Instruction was often viewed as "dehumanizing" or "mechanistic" by critics. In an era that championed the "open classroom" and the romanticization of student discovery, the idea that a teacher should follow a script to ensure that every child learned to read was met with professional resistance. The podcast highlights how these cultural biases against structured learning played a significant role in burying the results of the experiment.

Data and Disparity
Supporting data from the final report of Project Follow Through remains striking. Students in the Direct Instruction model consistently scored at or near the national average in reading and mathematics, a significant achievement compared to their peers in other models who remained far below grade level.
Despite this, the adoption of DI did not become universal. Critics often pointed to the "cost" of implementation—not necessarily financial, but the cost to the traditional professional identity of the teacher. By the time the "Reading Wars" reached their zenith in the 1990s and 2000s, the lessons of Project Follow Through had been relegated to the footnotes of academic journals. The subsequent rise of Balanced Literacy—which favored context clues over decoding skills—served to further obscure the success of the systematic, phonics-heavy approach that Zig Engelmann had championed.
Implications for Modern Pedagogy
The story of the forgotten experiment is not merely a historical curiosity; it has profound implications for current efforts to improve literacy rates in the United States. In recent years, a growing movement often referred to as the "Science of Reading" has begun to gain traction. This movement advocates for many of the same principles that Engelmann argued for decades ago: systematic phonics instruction, the importance of explicit decoding, and the rejection of debunked theories like three-cueing.
The podcast serves as a cautionary tale about how ideological gatekeeping can obstruct educational progress. When the findings of the largest educational experiment in history were disregarded because they did not align with the preferred "vibe" or pedagogical philosophy of the time, millions of students potentially lost out on the high-quality, evidence-based instruction they deserved.
Official Responses and Scholarly Retrospective
While the Department of Education has never issued a formal apology for the sidelining of Project Follow Through, educational researchers have increasingly turned their attention back to the data. Scholars who have reviewed the archival records of the study often express frustration at the lost opportunity.
"The data was there," notes one educational historian in the podcast. "It wasn’t a question of whether it worked. It was a question of whether we were willing to accept what it meant for the role of the teacher and the power of curriculum."
The silence surrounding these results for nearly forty years illustrates the power of educational fads to override empirical reality. Today, as school districts across the country grapple with historically low reading proficiency scores, the legacy of Zig Engelmann’s work is being reassessed. The "forgotten" experiment is being remembered, not just as a relic of the 1970s, but as a blueprint for the kind of rigorous, data-driven reform that many experts argue is necessary to rectify the failures of the current school system.
Ultimately, Sold a Story provides a vital service by connecting the dots between past research and current outcomes. It reminds us that education is rarely a value-neutral enterprise. Behind every curriculum, every classroom instruction, and every standardized test lies a set of assumptions about the nature of learning. The forgotten experiment stands as a reminder that when we ignore the evidence in favor of comfortable narratives, it is the students who pay the price. As the educational community continues to push for evidence-based reform, the story of Zig Engelmann remains an essential touchstone, highlighting the difficult, necessary work of ensuring that what happens in the classroom is based on what works, rather than what is popular.
