An inherent and hard problem to solve.

To rapidly caveat my previous statement where I heavily criticise those who built the ground I stand on, it’s necessary to look at why this is the case. It’s certainly not because the research community is lazy — the sheer number of academic journals and subsequent publications relating to education and teacher training stands testament to this.

Education research now sits at an extremely exciting cross-roads, moving further into the field of quantitative research, and a systems-based approach while remaining grounded in its beautiful (but limiting) holistic nature. More frequently education researchers adopt approaches which are relatively scientific in nature, in a well justified attempt to improve the validity of their claims.

Yet are such approaches valid? In a 2012 article, Ian Clark provides an excellent overview of the limiting nature of social systems studied in education reserach:

methodological reductionism does not adequately address the study of complex, non-linear, nested, and multi-dimensional social systems. In general terms, human behavior cannot be assumed to be predictable or repeatable. In specific terms, assessment takes place in an “indeterminate zone of practice”, which requires teachers and students to regulate learning by “thinking on their feet” (Schön 1987)…The work of the social constructionist is more complicated than that of a paleontologist, who can take a bone or two of a dinosaur and reconstruct the whole animal. When non-linear systems interact with the environment emergent properties cannot be predicted, because non-linearity leads to instability and uncertainty, hence the need for a theoretical framework which includes methodologies which explicitly investigate the grain of non-linear systems. (p.219)

The crux of his message being that any system involving humans are hard to work with. A statement I’m sure will not shake your very being. Yet a surprising number of education researchers make assumptions similar to this, at least to some degree. Attempting to draw claims, or make alterations, based on a single component of a learning system. My person current bug-bear is people’s apparent fascination with reducing cognitive load. Reducing cognitive load is often done by reducing an activity to its minimalist roots, using just those aspects which are directly relevant to a point to be made. For example in chemistry, using simple uncomplicated set up to show students the practice of, and idea behind titration — often done without large or breakable glassware. As a minimalist I find this idea exceptional and brilliant, however once you’ve altered one aspect of a system you’re going to change a lot of other things, and this is a very complicated pill to swallow.

This interconnected nature presents researchers with a great many difficulties — how are we going to make a difference when we don’t know what worked today with this group of students will not work next Tuesday with another? That’s a scary and difficult prospect and it’s no wonder many do not full account for it’s implications.

This system consists not only of the teachers students, but of the immediate classroom, and the wider sociocultural context. I’m not saying doing a titration with a pipette will affect the perception of gender by society, but these are all factors.

What’s more, teachers are all adults — unique individual humans with idiosyncratic teaching methods which may or may not be ideal. Teachers may be jaded by researchers, and unwilling to work with with a 22 year old with no experience in teaching a classroom. Students may feel similarly. Very few students understand the importance of their education at the time they receive it.

As anyone who knows anyone who teachers will know — they’re under a lot of pressure a lot of the time. They’re generally very sleep deprived because teaching is a hard job. A very hard job. However researchers too have pressures — we consistently need to prove our worth to our supervisors, our funders, our managers, our departments, our wider research community. A lot of the time this means we have to publish. Publish publish publish. We are constantly told to make an impact — a factor mainly measured by our publications and their associated citation in the wider research community. I don’t say this to lessen the severity of the pressure on teachers, but instead to say we too are under pressure. As much as I might want to help save the world of chemistry education — my PhD funding was given on the condition that my work contributes to improving the standards of teaching in my University’s chemistry department. An excellent and noble goal, but one which takes time away from working with real-life teachers. Researchers may live in an Ivory Tower, but that doesn’t mean they’ve chosen it.

Finally, the obvious point to make is that it’s hard. It’s really difficult. Not only do we need traditionally academic research skills: conceptualisation, development, demonstration that something is (not) working, but it also takes people skills: You have to be able to talk to teachers and students. This is a broad skill set that I don’t personally feel I will ever completely fulfil let alone master.