First principles first, right? (that is, one should consider first principles in any serious academic endeavor, at least before a “Toward a Theory Governing [insert two-dollar words here] . Blah blah”)? Well, I would like to begin by stating that a simple definition does not meet the traditional scientific criteria for a theory. Although in our vernacular, and the colloquial of many other niches perhaps, the word theory can be expanded to include any ‘belief’, and indeed any single perception. Personally, I always find it a bit self-important to radically diverge from what is clearly the intended meaning of a word, as set down by accepted authorities in such matters (the makers of the major dictionaries). You can redefine a boat as a ship if you want, but any common sense interpretation of the words from a dictionary will tell you that a ship is bigger than a boat in common usage of the English language in the US today.
Let me preface what I want to say about scientific theory with a few personal questions looming over my head about the context of this issue. Should an educational researcher interested in distance education make every attempt to remain objective, even when conducting qualitative research under most circumstances? Should most theories be grounded upon evidence which ultimately derives from facts experimentally obtained?
Stated another way, Westerners often claim that ‘separation of Church and State’ is under most circumstances desirable, even if imperfectly implemented and at times impractical (indeed many cultures counter that such a claim is hypocrisy)? Surely we all will grant that many laws are not merely arbitrary, but based in some concept of ethics, which are in turn strongly influenced by religious orientation. Likewise, although some argue it may be “good” that science itself and religion (some say since Galileo, others say since the ‘Monkey Trials’) are separate in the West, I believe that if worded in a simple statement as “Scientists should strive to report facts, not opinions” that must US residents would agree (perhaps most University faculty too).
Yet, who would deny that there is a moral judgment being made by a scientist who designs torture devices rather than cures for disease. Even well-intentioned scientists (Turing for instance) may at times exaggerate the importance or data from their own work. The main point I am making here is that it can be very difficult and may not even be desirable (depending on your perspective) to avoid the influence of your own personal, cultural, political, or religious agenda in the formulation of a theory.
Now on to the politics (subjective side) of theory-building within distance education. Notwithstanding that I personally find interesting and worthwhile truths in both Systems Theory and the opposing camp of Nominalists (pejoratively referred to as reductionists), there are some standards that I think can be set in the implementation of the scientific method which would give the field of education a stronger footing among the slippery slopes of social science. I think that standards should be set higher with regard to the theories we accept within our field as proffering up truths and laws.
Similar criticisms in psychology (where, at one time, most research was qualitative, and particularly the clinical side) are what brought about the Watson/Skinner backlash of behaviorism, and I believe, their successors in brain research today. That is a grand and crucial story in the history of psychology which has important lessons to teach educational researchers. For too long there was a sea of theories which became popular among psychologists, but were completely untestable. Not only did they often not make any testable predictions, but they also were often no more experimentally grounded than happy hour arm chair conjecture. It was a desire to escape this quagmire of pseudoscience and philosophical fuzziness that lead Watson, Skinner and others to retreat to the relatively more humble claims that could be made by restricting data gathering and analysis to that which can be confirmed empirically.
I have nothing against Maslow/Rogers and their humanistic fuzzy feelings. I like them in fact and feel that without them that the field of psychology would be as successful as organic chemistry in bringing boredom into people’s lives. But at some point, the field of education is going to need theorists who can apply the scientific method as prudently as a chemist applies the axioms and postulates of mathematical proofs, and not one inch further, in their assumptions and claims to knowledge.
Here then, is what I believe a fairly conservative and perhaps even generously tolerant view of what a ‘scientific theory’ is (quoting from Wikipedia):
The defining characteristic of a scientific theory is that it makes falsifiable or testable predictions about things not yet observed. The relevance, and specificity of those predictions determine how (potentially) useful the theory is. A would-be theory that makes no predictions that can be observed is not a useful theory. Predictions
Which are not sufficiently specific to be tested are similarly not useful. In both cases, the term ‘theory’ is inapplicable.
In practice a body of descriptions of knowledge is usually only called a theory once it has a minimum empirical basis. That is, it:
• Is consistent with pre-existing theory to the extent that the pre-existing theory was experimentally verified, though it will often show pre-existing theory to be wrong in an exact sense, and
• Is supported by many strands of evidence rather than a single foundation, ensuring that it is probably a good approximation, if not totally correct.
Additionally, a theory is generally only taken seriously if it:
• Is tentative, correctable and dynamic, in allowing for changes to be made as new data is discovered, rather than asserting certainty, and
• Is the most parsimonious explanation, sparing in proposed entities or explanations, commonly referred to as passing the Occam’s razor test.
The difference between science and unscientific nonsense was well caught in Wolfgang Pauli’s famous comment on a paper he was shown: “This isn’t right. It’s not even wrong”.
[end quotes from WikiPedia]
Yes, I believe that we are in dire need a theory for distance education. But I believe that theory should be built up from real facts which have been DISCOVERED (vice advocated) in the same way that an archeologist digs for real objects in the earth. Rather than fabricate some constructs and weave them into some fancy “framework”, why not look for the truly INTRINSIC factors, relationships, and dynamics governing learning. See how they relate to organizational variables, or variables related to the content and its delivery, etc. Why can’t we stop with the endless sloganized “MANIFESTOS” and simply restrain ourselves (to use the terminology of Clark) to the level of statistical certainty in the data, if there is any significance in it at all?
Mind you, I have nothing against qualitative and even subjective research in education. Before I became familiar with the history of psychology, I was intensely interested in sociology and cultural anthropology. I may even do my dissertation on technology adoption within higher education (a very complex macroscopic topic which necessarily involves using a systems approach, rather than a nominalist’s one).
Imagine the state of affairs within psychiatry at the turn of the last century. The dirty little secret was that there were plenty of clinical psychiatrists who were at a complete loss, and frankly quite cynical at the possibility of a coherent set of theories which might equip them to develop techniques which worked. Granted, the success rates of many techniques (other than chemical) are still pretty miserable, but certainly they are much better now than they were when the general attitude was “pick a theory, any theory, to develop your treatment from, since we don’t really have a way to confirm which is right and which is wrong”.
It would seem silly (to me at least) to argue that the gap between psychological theory and practice (clinical treatment) is so vast that the attempts to uncover the neuroanatomical and chemical underpinnings of brain function are just wastes of time. Just look at the history of many other medical fields, and how treatment improved once the gap began to close between basic and applied research. It’s a complete no-brainer to me that we need theories which incorporate real brain science, in order to understand and one day APPLY teaching principles using advanced technologies in ways that work better.
Summary of 3 important points:
(1): I have read a fair amount of literary treatment of the philosophy of science, and what criteria are generally considered by most fields of science necessary in order for a body of work to be properly considered a “scientific theory”. First, from the little I have read thus far in educational technology and instructional design, many of the publications which propose to introduce new “theories” do not meet these criteria. Although these theories may not be inferior per say, judged in overall value or intent of the author, they simply do not meet the minimum standards to be considered so and are quite frankly often merely substandard layman’s conjecture based on a few narrow personal experiences or tenuous and unproven relationships. For a similar discussion of criteria of theory, but with a softer stance toward the current ‘status’ of educational theory, see Chapter 1 of Driscoll (2005). A definition of a domain of study, no matter how elaborate with long lists of components, and even whole paragraphs explaining each of these various components does not qualify as a ‘scientific theory’.
(2): Here I outline what are the somewhat accepted criteria of what a ‘scientific theory’ is. I find it somewhat difficult to condense these, as they are already somewhat brief.
(3) Lastly, I attempt a somewhat belated exhortation to colleagues who would reach higher toward the prize. There is no worse destruction than one which offers no possible reconstruction. Every criticism (in my opinion) should be accompanied by an equal weight of prescription when writing editorials. Although one might need to understand a phenomenon better, prior to making prescriptions, and thus a scientific paper exposing some experiments may not be predisposed to such hypotheses beyond a mention in the concluding remarks, certainly we have every hope that if we can start with a more solid foundation in what we call ‘facts’ about learning theory, then we will likely reach higher in what we ascribe as the ‘art’ of designing instruction.
IN CONCLUSION:
Overall, what I wish for is that we would (as a field) spend less energy on debating prescriptive (normative) ideas and more time on positive (descriptive) theories. I do not think that real scientific theories can be prescriptive, until corresponding descriptive theories are first well established. Let me make an analogy: Suppose that a male primitive tribal doctor made prescriptions for an ailment (such as cancer) which involved incantations, blowing smoke on the body, and magical dances. That would make him a shaman or holy man, in some societies. What if his treatment works better than chemotherapy, gene therapy, and radiography all combined? Although the Shaman can certainly be said to have theories about the world, and about spirituality, and they may indeed be correct (I personally believe some such theories to be true), we still cannot say that the Shaman’s theories are “scientific theories”. On the other hand, if the scientific method and strong science has nevertheless led some medical scientists to mistakenly overlook a hidden dimension of a particular type of cancer, then it is quite possible that the scientists have authored valid “scientific theories”, even though their theories are incorrect. It is the method used in developing the theory, and the criteria of the content of the theory, which gives it the special quality of being a scientific theory (whether true or false).
Put another way: clinical medicine researchers I do not think often purport they have a new “theory” (that is not the business they are in). They simply label what they may find or develop as a new “treatment” which is highly specific, or that they have devised a new “Approach” or “System” which seems to work under certain circumstances (to the best of my knowledge). It is a loftier and more presumptuous claim to say you have a whole new “model” for treating all kinds of things, and even more so to claim that you have a whole new “scientific theory” or “framework”. I don’t often hear hands-on family doctors complaining publicly about this. In some areas of medicine, there are probably 15 or 20 different potential treatments or prescriptions for each unique illness. They don’t say, “But we are in the real world, and we don’t have time to make a choice among so many options”. They don’t say “we are under pressure to quickly save a dying child, and need a simplified set of rules”.
Still medical science moves forward. Medical theories come from medical scientists (NOT family doctors, usually), are not called theories unless there is real solid scientific research which backs up every single aspect of the purported “theory”, and the “theory” is mostly a descriptive theory which makes testable predictions, can be falsified, and explains how something works. Treatments on the other hand, are at times highly philosophical and therefore not properly called scientific ‘theories’, but instead are called treatments, styles, approaches, etc.
When you start mislabeling “philosophies” as “science” and discrediting hard science as having any potential application in so complex an area of applied practices, you would seem to me to be discrediting your own field of practice. In the same way that 17th century medical science was often plagued by quackery and downright superstitious nonsense, education has at times been full of nonsense, subjective opinions, and pure philosophy. Until we throw ourselves wholeheartedly into devising MODELS and SYSTEMS of instruction and instructional design which are 100% research based and at the same time pragmatic and feasible for real-life practitioner, then we are doomed to continuing to be led around by Shamans with beliefs and feelings they label as “theory”.
I think that is possible, so long as we stop stroking our egos with ‘grand unified theories’ which we suppose we genius enough to include and account for so wide a swath of circumstances.
Driscoll, M. P. (2005). Psychology of learning for instruction. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Allyn & Bacon.
