James Fraser and Lauren Lefty do not resort to seafaring metaphors in their history of teacher preparation since 1980, but their story begins with a perfect storm. By 1960, college- and university-based teacher education programs, after decades of exertion, had become the standard route for aspiring educators—an accomplishment that provoked two decades of reactive attack. As that criticism mounted, the broader political push for deregulation also began to surge, and market ideologues looking for institutions to dismantle found an easy target in university-based teacher preparation. Finally, there was what Fraser and Lefty refer to as the revolt of the superintendents. District leaders, largely those at the helm of urban systems, wanted greater control of teacher preparation and threw their support behind policy schemes that would strengthen their hands.

Add to this trifecta the lowly status of ed schools and it's a wonder that university-based teacher education still exists. As other scholars have observed, the deck is truly stacked against traditional teacher preparation programs. There's the issue of gender and the corresponding minimization of anything perceived as women's work. There's also the problem of class status: in the eyes of many, training teachers is akin to training proletarians. And we mustn't forget the fact that having spent 13 years observing teachers, Americans tend to think that teaching simply isn't very hard. In short, though there was something of a perfect storm in the late twentieth century, assaults on teacher education are practically preordained.

So what was the result of this storm? According to Fraser and Lefty, two processes were set in motion. The first was a reform movement inside teacher education. It's a somewhat familiar tale by now, but Fraser and Lefty tell a coherent and compelling story about work at places like Stanford to rethink university-based teacher education. In telling that story, they also highlight reform efforts inside institutions that are all too often overlooked—places like Montclair State, in New Jersey and the University of Indianapolis. Things have, indeed, gotten better since the waves of reform began to crash on ed schools. Yet, as the authors note, the truly exceptional programs tend to be … well … exceptions.

The second story is also a familiar one: the proliferation of alternative routes. In tackling it, Fraser and Lefty deftly bring some order to what can often be presented as an anarchic hodgepodge. In addition to the requisite coverage of Teach For America (TFA)—the most visible of the teacher preparation alternatives—the authors offer a taxonomy wrapped in a history lesson. We learn about urban teacher residency programs, the Relay Graduate School of Education, High Tech High's teacher training program, and the relatively new Woodrow Wilson Academy of Teaching and Learning, as well as the underlying philosophy that gives life to each. Ever the dispassionate referees, Fraser and Lefty don't merely underscore the sometimes disturbingly limited vision of teaching in these programs or the occasional whiff of disrepute that can accompany them, they also note several important innovations that college- and university-based teacher education programs might mimic to their advantage.

Careful readers will identify the latent themes that carry across this book, allowing readers to use the work as a touchstone in conversations about the future direction of teacher preparation. Progressives, for instance, will be hard pressed to find anything like a coherent vision presented by the left across the four decades of history covered here. Free market advocates and deregulators offered a compelling story about failed and irredeemable institutions—a story they pushed with certainty, outrage, and enthusiasm. They were wrong, of course. But they were largely unopposed in offering a vision of something new. Progressives, as Fraser and Lefty show, circled the wagons around flawed programs. Rather than acknowledging those flaws and mapping out a progressive future, many simply doubled down on the status quo.

Another underlying theme in this book is about the role of cultivated prestige in teacher education. Fraser and Lefty don't spend much time discussing it, but the importance of prestige is all over this history—like a connect-the-dot drawing waiting to be inked in. Not only is the lack of prestige key in understanding the assault on traditional teacher preparation, but the intentional cultivation of prestige seems to explain much of the success of alternatives. TFA, for instance, has succeeded because it has sold college undergraduates on a vision of exclusivity. Even Harvard graduates can't get into TFA, with fewer than 20 percent of applicants being accepted, according to Fraser and Lefty's figures. Never to be outdone, Harvard seems to have learned a lesson from that: its Harvard Teacher Fellows program, the authors note, was “intended to keep the prestige factor alive and well, making the program a competitive, fully funded fellowship for a select group of forty seniors a year” (p. 94). Touché.

A third latent theme in the book is about what can't improve in teacher education. The authors outline many of the problems that the best programs solve, from curricular alignment to clinical practice. But there is much that simply can't be solved. Prestige may be one of those challenges. How can teacher education be prestigious when we need such an incredible volume of participants? Boutique programs can keep out the hoi polloi, but where will the other 3.5 million teachers come from? There's also the issue of cost. Teacher salaries are suppressed both by the widespread belief that teaching isn't particularly hard and by the fact that most teachers depend on state and local taxation for their salaries. If teachers can't ever make the kind of money that doctors and lawyers make, how can they be asked to pay for expensive and lengthy training? Small programs like Harvard's or urban teacher residency programs solve the problem for small numbers of teachers. But what about the rest?

Finally, meticulous readers will pick up on the old divide between policy and politics. Policy is cold and dispassionate—what works is what wins. But politics isn't like that. The story Fraser and Lefty tell is one that overflows with both. And in the end, as is so often the case, politics seems to carry the day. Fraser and Lefty have faith that experimentation and hybridization will ultimately win out. But what if the political victory against college- and university-based teacher education programs has already been won? The policies may be in the pipeline, but the politics may be sealed. Rebuilding is impossible if the storm never ends.