Random Musings on the Situated Learning Wars

To some extent the conflict between cognitive constructivists and situated learning theorists resembles the long-standing feud between proponents of traditional instruction and child-centered pedagogy. Like the latter group, situated theorists have been accused of supplanting the curriculum in favor of accomodating students’ interests. Anderson et al. (1996), for example, felt that situated theorists’ arguments reflected an “implied or expressed claim that school knowledge is not legitimate” (p. 6). They also worried that, when taken to an extreme, such arguments would threaten “the legitimacy of school-based instruction” (p. 8). Having identified commonalities between the two camps’ thinking, they wrote (as if in relief), “We no longer have to contemplate abandoning the classroom” (p. 18). Why would cognitive constructivists want to preserve the shape of formal schooling? At the risk of exposing myself to criticism, I believe they are partly driven by a desire to defend their own vested interests.

According to Greeno (1997), the instructional practices valued in schools are the progeny of cognitive theorists, a fact he attributed to cognitivism’s triumph over behaviorism in an earlier paradigm war (p.15). Far from neutral, Greeno’s article was imbued with a spirit of educational reform. Using language that mirrored the rhetoric espoused by child-centered reformers in the early twentieth century, he suggested that “the important question [was] how to make school learning more beneficial beyond the classroom, providing students with general resources for reasoning both in and with the concepts of subject-matter domains” (p. 14). Given that cognitive theories inform current instructional practices, one might assume any attempt to promote reform would be met with resistance. To some extent Sfard (1998) shared this belief. Pointing to the power of tradition, she wrote, “Whichever of the two interpretations is chosen, what used to be called ‘subject matter’ may change so dramatically that some people would begin wondering whether the things we would then be teaching could still be called science or mathematics” (p. 10). Given her suggestion that knowledge consitutes a form of capital, her observation is of no small consequence. In fairness, Anderson et al. (2000) wrote, “As researchers, we neither endorse the view that all currently prevalent practices should be maintained nor that sweeping (or even moderate) changes in school instruction should be adopted” (p. 13). Nevertheless, I felt the strength of their position was tempered considerably by the inclusion of the latter caveat.

In addition to arguing about the shape formal schooling ought to assume, the two factions are at odds over what does (and does not) constitute “scientific” research. At the conclusion of their article Anderson et al. (1996) wrote, “In the absence of disavowal from the cognitive science community, misguided practices can have the appearance of a basis in scientific research” (p. 10, emphasis added). I understood this to be an attack on the qualitative practices employed by situated theorists. Responding to this challenge, Greeno noted that situated theorists employ the research “methods and conceptual frameworks of ethnography, ethno-methodology, discourse analysis, symbolic interactionism, and sociocultural psychology” (p. 7). In their follow-up article, Anderson et al. (1997) suggested social cognition was best understood “through serious attention to what goes on in the human mind, and not simply through external observation of social interaction” (p. 20, emphasis added). Again, these exchanges seemed to suggest that there is more at stake in the learning wars than questions of learning. They constitute a battle for the supremacy of epistemological and ontological beliefs as well. Like Sfard (1998), I view these theories as different tools that can be applied to learning-related problems. Neither theory is superior to the other. In the end, they represents different ways of understanding learning.

Anderson, J. R., Reder, L. M., & Simon, H. A. (1996). Situated learning and education. Educational Researcher, 25, 5-11.

Anderson, J. R., Reder, L. M., & Simon, H. A. (1997). Rejoinder: Situative versus cognitive
perspectives: Form versus substance. Educational Researcher, 26, 18-21.

Anderson, J. R., Greeno, J. G., Reder, L. M., & Simon, H. A. (2000). Perspectives on learning,
thinking, and activity. Educational Researcher, 29, 11-13.

Greeno, J. G. (1997). Response: On claims that answer the wrong question. Educational
Researcher, 26, 5-17.

Sfard, A. (1998). On two metaphors for learning and the dangers of choosing just one.
Educational Researcher, 7(22), 4-13.

A Democratic Education

In the opening chapters of Democracy and Education, John Dewey depicted education as a process through which societies bequeathed their practices, beliefs, and tools to their young. This allowed them to preserve their practices across time and space, and also assured that successive generations were not required to continually reinvent the past. Consequently, it was possible for progress to occur. It is significant to note that Dewey viewed education as a naturally occurring phenomenon. In his opinion, learning resembled an apprenticeship process of sorts. Children learned by observing adults, and by working alongside them in daily undertakings, whether at home or in the community. As the body of knowledge needed to sustain a society grew in size and scope, it became necessary to adopt new methods to pass on culturally relevant information to the young. For Dewey, formal schooling represented one such approach, albeit a less effective one.

A recurring theme in the book suggested that formal schooling represented an artificial means of learning. In Dewey’s opinion, schools viewed education as an end in itself, rather than as a means to an end. As a result, they mistook learning for the acquisition of knowledge, rather than the mastery of practices. Consequently, they sought to impart information to students using transmission processes. Seldom were students given the opportunity to interact with information in a manner that allowed them to appreciate its cognitive and emotional dimensions. As a result, Dewey felt they remained unprepared to carry the habits they formed in school with them to other contexts and problems.

In order to address formal schooling’s shortcomings, Dewey examined education as it occurred in more natural settings. He argued, for example, that efforts to achieve social control via the application of external forces and constraints were likely to prove ineffective. Instead, he felt control was best achieved when students entered into learning communities. Membership in such communities entailed a commitment to work toward mutually agreed upon ends, and a willingness to regulate one’s activities. It also necessitated a willingness to recognize other’s right to exercise their strengths and talents. For Dewey, relationships of this sort fostered a more robust form of moral development than was possible under more traditional models that sought to impose external restraints.

By aligning education with personal growth, Dewey portrayed learning as a life-long process, rather than a clearly defined end. In doing so, he dispelled the myth that suggested children were empty vessels into which knowledge was poured. Like adults, children possessed a wealth of experiences and interests. In spite of the allegations leveled against him by critics, he did not encourage adults to indulge the whims of children. To the contrary, he felt doing so would arrest their development, and reinforce habits that were socially undesirable. Instead, he encouraged teachers to use children’s interests to introduce them to the cultural tools and practices that would allow them to participate as functioning members of society.

For Dewey, education, learning, and personal growth were the results of individuals’ relationships with society. This view of education was significant in that it eschewed the idea that learning was an individual accomplishment. Whereas schools sought to mold students to socially prescribed norms, Dewey encouraged them to equip pupils with the tools they needed to reinvent society. He stressed the importance of fostering interpersonal relationships, and highlighted the destructive nature that accompanied illusory beliefs in one’s independence. As a result, it was possible to recognize his vision regarding the role schools ought to play in a democratic society. In Dewey’s opinion, schools were to foster learning communities that allowed students to apply their talents to mutually agreed upon ends. By dedicating themselves to a common good, students constructed moral codes that fostered self-control, the result of which diminished the need for external restraints, and prepared them to participate as members of a democratic society.