Where science won’t work. The science of learning and its limits to teaching.

Tom Mahoney

This post was originally posted on Tom’s blog The Interruption.

Photo by Umberto on Unsplash

 

Listen to the podcast segment of Ideology in Education (at 15:34) based on this blog post for the Teacher’s Education Review below.

There are a growing number of teachers, consultants, think tanks and edu-businesses espousing the science of learning as the saviour of education.

There seems to be a lot riding on this one.

The perception of science as neutral, objective and powerful knowledge, has led to the proliferation of approaches towards the management (or control) of learning outcomes through so-called “evidence-based” approaches that are assumed to “fix” complex educational and societal problems. This has led to the coining of an ever-growing list of “scientific” approaches to processes involved in teaching and learning in an effort to gain legitimacy and authority in the education space. Those involved in education may be aware of more established movements, such as in the science of reading and mathematics. However, recent claims to a science of leadership and instructional coaching suggest a growing popularity to tag the authority of science to other areas involved in education as a means of gaining legitimacy.

In this post, I aim to describe the ideological characteristics of the science of learning, which constructs the teacher as an effective and efficient technician of learning. I then suggest that contemporary “scientific” approaches to learning cannot save education, that the construction of teaching as an exercise in effectiveness and efficiency limits the ability for teachers to engage in the moral and political dimensions of their practice, which is needed to make real educational change. It is in this domain of teaching that “what works” for the science of learning won’t work for education.

 

The science of learning and ideology

Despite what science of learning advocates may claim, the science of learning movements are not grounded in “evidence”, but on particular perspectives of what education and teaching ought to look like, and as such can be understood as ideological in scope.

We can understand the science of learning, described as ‘the quest to help our students learn more effectively and efficiently’ (Watson & Busch, 2021, p. 1) as drawing from conservative and efficiency ideologies. For the purposes of this post, I will focus on an exploration of efficiency ideologies as they relate to the science of learning. I have explored the prevalence of efficiency ideologies in education in a previous post of The Interruption, but in general efficiency ideologies hold the belief that teachers and schools ought to treat their practice scientifically to bring about learning in the most effective and efficient way possible (Schiro, 2013). In the case of the science of learning, neuroscience has (quite convincingly) become the area that is perceived to bring about the most effective and efficient retention of knowledge and skills.

The science of learning is a passionate movement that attempts to ground itself objectively through the use of “evidence”. This evidence is often cherry-picked as to adhere to standards in medicine, such as the use of randomised control trials (RCTs), with other evidence (often qualitative) labelled as “weak” or “poorly designed” (Biesta, 2010). Hence, it is about the imposition of a particular “scientific” approach, rather than a scientific disposition (Skourdoumbis & Webster, 2022). This is an example of how the science of learning functions ideologically, in order to retain the legitimacy of their perspective by holding the “evidence” (Webster and Ryan, 2019).

If evidence contradicts the claims made by science of learning advocates, well it just wasn’t done right.

As a result of this, followers seem to exude a sense of authority in possessing the right way to teach, which as I have argued above is ultimately grounded in assumptions regarding what teaching ought to be for and bring about.

The teacher is constructed often in similar terms to that of a doctor, who diagnoses student deficiencies in retention of certain knowledge or skills and enacts interventions to improve storage of information in memory. Tasked with the goal of applying “evidence-based” practices (which recent empirical research has shown to be a problematic phrase, not to mention Biesta’s (2007) philosophical critiques over a decade earlier), the teacher is to embody that of an effective and efficient technician of learning to ensure the largest possible amount of information is retained.

There is a missionary zeal to those who embody the science of learning, who seek to genuinely make a difference. Learning is assumed to become the primary tool with which to alleviate inequity within our education system and society as a whole. Biesta (2017, p. 30) has described this phenomenon as the “politics of learning”:

‘where political problems, such as questions about the economy, employment, and social cohesion, are turned into learning problems, and where individuals are tasked with solving these problems through their learning (and often also at their own cost)’.

Science of learning advocates however seem determined to impose their own construction of the teacher on the broader profession, convinced that an enlightened profession will solve the perceived educational crises of our time. Therefore, it is a movement that we could consider to be more ideological than scientific (Skourdoumbis & Webster, 2022).

 

The kicker

In their recent book, The Epistemological Development of Education : Considering Bourdieu, Foucault and Dewey, Skourdoumbis and Webster (2022, p. 1) claim that:

‘education has fallen victim to a particular “science of education”, which neither is actually scientific and nor does it engage with genuine education’.

The science of learning movements can be understood to be part of the broader ideological movements towards as “science of education” as described by Skourdoumbis and Webster above. Though well-meaning, these movements are not without their problems as I have suggested earlier. This is because using a language of learning is insufficient as an educational language (Biesta, 2017). By framing the teacher as a skilled technician whose core aim is support student learning, important educational questions, such as the ethical application of such learning, can become sidelined in the pursuit of efficiency (Kostogriz, 2019).

This is not to say that the science of learning should not have anything to say about education. It has and should. Comprehension and reading are important. Mathematical knowledge and skills are important. But we cannot assume that the efficient and effective accumulation of said knowledge and skills will address the important issues affecting our world in the 21st century.

What we need more than ever are teachers who are committed to engaging their students in the difficult work of envisaging a better world, not simply providing the knowledge and skills that will support their participation in economies as individual learners.

 

Let’s not be too hasty

I will say here that I am not opposed to the science of learning as such.

What I am opposed to is the imposition of certain perspectives of what it means to be a teacher that arise from an impoverished perspective of what education ought to bring about. I am concerned at the way this movement has constructed its enemy (the ineffective/poor/outdated teacher) and seeks to influence policy in a way that has the potential to further standardise and limit the teacher to an effective and efficient technician of learning.

What I have tried to do in this post is also highlight some of the problems associated with such a totalising disposition towards education, and provide some reasons as to why the science of learning cannot and should not be all-encompassing of what it means to be a teacher.

After all, we may just find that when it comes to the most valuable aspects of education, ‘an exclusive emphasis on “what works” will simply not work’ (Biesta, 2007, p. 22).

 

 

 

Tom Mahoney is a mathematics and psychology teacher with experience teaching in Victorian independent and government secondary schools. At Deakin University, Tom completed both a BAEd and MEd (specialising in inclusive education). He is currently completing his PhD part time through Deakin University, exploring the possible relationships between critical reflection on educational ideologies and teacher agency. Tom is an educational commentator, contributing regularly to the Teachers’ Education Review podcast (titled Ideology in Education) and publishes monthly posts through his Substack blog, The Interruption.


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