2
Introduction (Part I)
David Scott and Eleanore Hargreaves
This book is divided into four parts: Theories of Learning;
Elements of Learning; Curriculum, Pedagogy and Assessment;
and The Learner. The theories, frameworks, schema and perspectives
discussed in this first part are central to learning and indeed always refer
to something. This form of words avoids the problem of representation, and,
indeed, though rarely acknowledged, this is the most pressing issue faced by
theorists and framers of learning. As we suggested in the âIntroductionâ
(Scott and Hargreaves, Chapter 1 in this volume) it is possible to organise
theories of learning into four categories: behaviourist, phenomenological,
constructivist (cf. Chaiklin and Daniels in this volume) and materialist
(cf. Fenwick, Edwards and Osberg in this volume), and to distinguish between
them in terms of this referential relationship.
Epistemology has traditionally been concerned with what distinguishes
different knowledge claims; specifically between legitimate knowledge
and opinion and belief. We want to suggest that theorising, and
in particular, theorising learning, is a contested activity and this is in
part because it is epistemically framed. There are four possible types:
positivist/empiricist, interpretivist, critical and postmodernist. When in
the nineteenth century the social sciences were beginning to be developed,
they did so under the shadow of the physical sciences. Therefore as immature
sciences they sought to mirror the procedures and approaches adopted by the
natural sciences (or at least by an etiolated version of scientific
methodology which rarely equated with how scientists actually behaved).
Such positivist/empiricist approaches can be characterised in the following
way. There is a real world out there and a correct way of describing it.
This allows us to think that theorising is simply a matter of following the
right methods or procedures. What follows from this is that the knowledge
produced from this algorithmic process is always considered to be superior
to common-sense understandings of the world, by virtue of its systematicity
and rigour. Science works by accumulating knowledge, that is, it builds incrementally on
previous knowledge. However, it is hard to argue that the social sciences
have developed a body of knowledge which presents unequivocal truths about
its subject matter. Furthermore, twentieth- and twenty-first-century
philosophy has generally accepted that any observations we make about the
world, including those which are central to the research process and can be
construed as âfacts', are always conditioned by prior understandings we have
of the world. There are no theory-free facts, and this puts at risk the
distinction made by positivists/empiricists between observation and
theory.
The positivist/empiricist method equates legitimacy with science (although
this is very much an idealised view of scientific activity) and is
characterised as a set of general methodological rules. A clear distinction
is made between knowers and people and objects in the world. Facts
can be identified, free of the values and personal concerns of the observer.
Thus, any assertions or statements we make about the world are about
observable measurable phenomena, and this implies that two theorists if they
apply the correct method would come to the same conclusions. It is the
correct application of the method that guarantees certainty and trust in the
theories we produce. Although all these assumptions are significant in their
own right, they give the impression that positivism and empiricism are
simply highly idealised abstruse doctrines; however, such theories have
important social consequences and speak as authorities in the world about
social and physical matters.
As we have suggested above, this view of theory-development has been disputed
by interpretivists, critical theorists and postmodernists, who in their turn
have been criticised for not providing a way of developing their theories
which fulfils the Enlightenment desire for universal knowledge that is shorn
of superstition, personal preference and special pleading. Interpretivists,
critical theorists and postmodernists thus sought to provide an alternative
to a view of theory-building which prioritised reduction to a set of
variables, a separation between the knower and what they sought to know, a
means for predicting and controlling the future, and a set of
perfectly-integrated descriptions of the world with a view of the social
actor as mechanistic and determined. Interpretivist approaches provide one
possible alternative. Interpretivists focus on the meanings that social
actors construct about their lives and in relation to the world, and argue
that human beings negotiate this meaning in their social practices. Human
action then cannot be separated from meaning-making, with our experiences
organised through pre-formulated interpretive frames. We belong to
traditions of thought, and the task of the theorist is to make sense of
these interpretations, even though such interpretive activity is mediated by
the theorist's own interpretive frame of reference. This is a practical
matter for each individual, though of course they cannot make meanings on
their own, since all meaning-making is located within culturally and
historically located communities of practice. The field of study is
therefore the meaningful actions of social actors and the social
construction of reality; and one of the consequences is that the social
sciences are now thought of as distinct from the natural sciences.
Learning is therefore understood as a practice in the world, primed for
investigation, but resistant to algorithmic and mechanistic methods for
describing it used in the natural sciences. Critical theorists and critical
realists take the interpretivist critique of positivism/empiricism one stage
further. In the search for a disinterested universal knowledge, they look
for a solution either in communicative competence or in the stratified
nature of reality itself (cf. Nunez in this volume). We will focus here on
the former, and in particular Habermas's (1987) argument that any claim to
theoretical credibility must be able to make the following assertions: this
work is intelligible and hence meaningful in the light of the structuring
principles of the discourse community it is positioned within; what is being
asserted propositionally is true; what is being explained can be justified; and the person who
is making these claims is sincere about what they are asserting. These four
conditions if they are fulfilled allow a theorist to say something
meaningful about learning. The aim above all for a critical theorist is to
develop knowledge that is potentially transformative or emancipatory: to
detect and unmask those practices in the world that limit human freedom. Its
purposes are therefore the direct replacement of one set of values (unjust,
muddled and discriminatory) with another (rational, just and
emancipatory).
The fourth framework is a postmodernist one, and again it should be noted
that it was developed in reaction to positivist and empiricist epistemic
frameworks, and in particular to all those epistemologies which posit a real
world separate from the activities of the knower. As Lather (2007) suggests,
any work or theory should give a voice to those social actors that have been
traditionally marginalised (an explicit emancipatory purpose), and in the
process undermine and subvert the agendas held by those with more power in
the world than others; surface for public discussion those textual devices
(both spoken and written) used in conventional theory-development, and
suggest ways of countering these powerful knowledge constructions; question
how theorists construct their texts and organise their sets of meaning in
the world; and re-introduce the theorist into the research text by locating
them within those frameworks which act to construct them as theorists and as
human beings (cf. Cole in this volume).
All these frameworks cannot be equally correct, and this explains why
theorists produce conflicting and contradictory results about important
educational and learning matters. However, the situation is more serious
than this, since even though theorists may subscribe to the same
epistemology, they may still disagree with one another, even if they are
focusing on the same set of social problems. The dispute might be about
correct and incorrect uses of the method, different views and
interpretations of the epistemological tradition to which they claim to
belong, or using different interpretive frameworks in relation to the
data-set which has been collected. This has been called the crisis of
representation, and it is hard to imagine how one can escape from it, since
the alternative is to revert back to a pre-Enlightenment time of knowledge
being privileged because of who could command the most attention.
However, theorising is too important to simply ignore the problems of
representation that we have alluded to above. Indeed, we need to understand
how our theories are constructed and how power is ever present in their
construction. This is because theory-development is conducted with and
through other people (some of them more powerful than others), and the
theorist is always in the business of collecting accounts by social actors
of their lifeworlds and activities in the world. These accounts are always
self-serving, and what we mean by this is not that they are wrong per se,
but that they are living documents that enable them to go on in life. They
are thus always conditional, and this works in four ways: social actors are
unaware of some of the conditions for their actions (every action has a set
of conditions underpinning it, for example a speech act requires a language,
vocabulary and grammar); they are unlikely to be able to predict all the
consequences of their actions, so there are going to be unintended
consequences; social actors may not be aware of much of their own knowledge
and expertise, in other words, much of their knowledge is tacit, and thus
they cannot, except with the greatest of difficulty, surface it in their
accounts of their lives; and equally they may be motivated by unconscious
forces and impulsions which they find great difficulty in articulating (cf.
Sfard in this volume).
In this Part of the book, Deborah Osberg writes on complexity theory and
emergentism; Harry Daniels on learning, culture and social interaction; Emma
Williams and Paul Standish on learning and philosophy; Iskra Nunez on
transcending the dualisms of activity theory from a critical realist
perspective; David Cole on Deleuze and learning; Tara Fenwick on socio-materiality and
learning; Seth Chaiklin on cultural-historical perspectives on learning;
Richard Edwards on post-human and responsible experimentation in learning;
David Aldridge on phenomenology and learning; and, finally, Anna Sfard on
learning, commognition and mathematics.
References
Habermas, J.
(1987) Knowledge and Human Interests, Cambridge: Polity Press.
Lather, P.
(2007) âValidity, qualitative', The Blackwell Encyclopaedia of Sociology,
George
Ritzer (ed.), Oxford: Blackwell Publisher, pp. 5161â5.
3
Learning, Complexity and Emergent (Irreversible) Change
Deborah Osberg
PART 1: BERGSON'S FOLD
Introduction
In this chapter I attempt to map the influence of the âfieldâ of complexity theory on the âfieldâ of learning theoryâ in a way that adds something new to the field of âcomplexity and educationâ research. However, the task of bringing together the notion of complexity in general and the notion of learning in general is one that is somewhat challenging as both notions are somewhat âbaggy': that is, they only very loosely âfitâ the ideas that they characterise. This is well known in the case of learning which Illeris broadly defines as âany process that in living organisms leads to permanent capacity change and which is not solely due to biological maturation or ageingâ (Illeris, 2007: 3). This broad definition calls upon a notoriously complex and diverse array of ideas and renders the problem of learning (what it is as a phenomenon) particularly intractable. Complexity too, however, is a âloose-fittingâ notion for it points to a science that is unified only by the notion of âemergentâ or âirreversibleâ change, this being a notion that can be used to describe almost anything. Indeed emergence can be considered to apply not only to physical phenomena such as hurricanes, ecosystems, consciousness, traffic congestion and rock concerts (Corning, 2002) but also to a wide range of human interactions that are underpinned by power, agency and language (Osberg, 2008b; Osberg and Biesta, 2010a). Bearing in mind there are already many well developed scientific and philosophical languages for describing and understanding these phenomena, one question arising from the apparently universal applicability of emergence is whether it is capable of adding anything fundamentally new to already well established philosophical and scientific understandings of the phenomena concerned. In other words, if not simply to colonise existing theorisations of learning, then what is the point of mapping, in a single chapter, the way in which complexity theory relates to learning theory?
A further problem with the task of mapping the influence of the âfieldâ of complexity theory on the âfieldâ of learning theory is that âcomplexity scienceâ or âcomplexity theoryâ and its unifying idea of emergence is not a unified field or theory in the usual sense of the word. Rather, it is a science/theory that ...