Over the past 17 years, we’ve had three dishwashers — not counting ourselves and the kids. This averages out at almost six years per dishwasher, but statistics don’t always tell the true story.

Soon after we moved here, several buttons fell off our first dishwasher and refused to be reattached. We started the dishwasher using a pair of needle nose pliers. In poorer times than these, I laid hands on that dishwasher and prayed it would survive a few more rounds. It served faithfully for many years.

Eventually it was time to replace the dishwasher, and Brian brought home a seemingly sturdy mid-range model. It looked great and lasted precisely two years.

Initially, I thought it might work out to just use the racks for air drying dishes, but the younger kids aren’t quite as proficient as they need to be to keep up with all our dishes. They can load the dishwasher, but having full responsibility for sanitation is beyond them. I ended up with more dishes than I could keep up with. Brian set out for a replacement, which arrived a few months ago.

This dishwasher is a beautiful machine. I have, on several occasions, opened it mid-cycle not even realizing it is on. Of course, it is possible that my hearing is shot, but I’m pretty sure the dishwasher is quieter than anything else in the house.

As a modern invention, it is energy efficient. Brian informed me that the heat from the stainless steel inner walls would dry the dishes. That sounds impressive, but there are tradeoffs.

The interior is small, and we generate a lot of dishes, so the energy efficiency may be lost when we run an extra load. The built-in digital timer informs me that a regular cycle takes precisely two hours, eight minutes to complete. Most egregiously, this dishwasher requires a chemical rinse aid in order to produce spotless dishes.

As I have no desire to spend money on a chemical that will coat my dishes and enter my groundwater, I now have spotty glasses, a phenomenon we had not previously encountered. I guess this is the trade off for energy efficiency, but it seems like a poor swap.

I was reminded of my new dishwasher this week as I was reading a new educational theory that proposed trading textbook learning for classroom time on Facebook. The author of this proposal suggested that by engaging and entertaining the students, students could learn to interact socially. Students, apparently, need encouragement to use technology and have conversations with each other.

This educational proposition embraces the insipid idea that children are happier if they are constantly entertained. Since they don’t get excited about math homework, abandon it. Just do the fun stuff. How this will generate educated, literate members of society who know how to take on the responsibilities of career and family is beyond me.

The lament that teens have nothing to do is universal. Increasing job opportunities — and reducing some of the restrictions on hiring minors — is one way to keep teens occupied. Before they get to the interview table, though, those potential employees need to have the perseverance to stick with something — like math homework, perhaps — even if it isn’t fun. There aren’t a lot of jobs out there that require someone to generate conversations on social network sites.

My dishwasher traded function for form, energy efficiency for spotty glasses. Some theorists would trade entertainment for education. New ways aren’t always better; sometimes they’re just new.