Improving Teaching?: Insights from the Field

A paper presented at the Higher Education Close-Up Conference at Lancaster University, July 16th-18th, 2001

Andrea Abbas, University of Teesside, School of Social Sciences, Borough Road, Middlesbrough TS1 3BA

Monica McLean, Education Department, Keele University, Keele, Staffs St5 5AH

Not for citation

Introduction

This paper constitutes a challenge. Currently there is intense interest, on the part of the state and the public, in the improvement and professionalisation of university teaching. The ways of setting about this are not as contested as they should. Our experience has led us to the conclusion that opportunities offered by centrally-funded initiatives designed to improve teaching are often squandered. University teachers are capable and willing and small desirable changes can, and do, take place; but these are outweighed by structural and systemic constraints. We think, too, that, academics, to some extent and for understandable reasons, collude by accepting systems and practices that do not benefit learners or teachers[1]. The challenge is to grasp the ambivalence of the situation in which we find ourselves and make choices.

We glean our insights from a Funding for the Development of Teaching and Learning (FDTL) project, funded by HEFCE and focused, initially, on support for part-time teachers in sociology departments, so that their teaching improved (it originally identified ‘mentoring’ as the key to this, but, as we shall see, this changed.) Three universities were partners in the bid[2], one of these was the lead university which submitted the bid, inviting the others to join. Two people were involved in each university: in the lead university, the project director and manager and in the others a ‘mentor developer’(employed part-time by the project) and a ‘supervisor’ who was employed full-time by the university, but not by the project. There is a Steering Committee. Despite changes as it proceeded, at all times it has involved visits to university social science departments to encourage and help them to set up systems of support for part-time teachers, for which they receive a small sum of money[3].

This paper is organised first by explaining the lenses through which we have filtered our experience. These are methodological and theoretical. Methodologically, we make use of ideas about positionality and reflexivity, and about action research and formative evaluation. Jurgen Habermas has provided us with a theoretical framework with which we have been able to begin to explore how and to what extent contemporary conditions in universities encourage the improvement of teaching. We shall then locate our project within the plethora of official routes to improving teaching. A critical analysis of what actually happened as we attempted to fulfil the aims of the project provides the ‘close-up’ part of our paper. We conclude by returning to Habermas to propose that while authentic improvement of teaching is made difficult at the moment we could begin to think about alternatives.

Methodology and Methods

1.Positioning ourselves

Our personal, professional interest in the working conditions of part-time teachers, in professional development and in improving teaching is strong. We reveal our location because it parallels those of our respondents. We are both women academics who have spent many years on part-time and temporary contracts. Andrea Abbas, a sociologist, has been in the field as a ‘mentor developer’, at first when she was completing her PhD. and now as a ‘new’ university lecturer with a heavy teaching time-table. Monica McLean is an educationist and runs a course for university teachers. She acted as ‘supervisor’ but, in fact, her initial role was negotiating about Andrea’s work with the project director and as co-analyser of data and co-author[4]. Our joint professional and intellectual interests lead us not only to want to explore and better the experience of part-time teachers, but also, as part of it, to consider the social, cultural and political context of this experience. In effect, Andrea became an ethnographer in her own social, professional world. So the version of reflexivity we have taken up connects our ‘positions and interests’ with our perceptions and analysis of those whose working lives we explore study and those we hope for as our audience -who are also, to some extent, those we study (Callaway, 1992; Bolak, 1997).

As authors, then, we are ‘visible narrators’(Hertz, 1997, p. xii). Further than this, we use ourselves as ‘fieldwork tools’ (Van Maanen et al., 1989) drawing on self-knowledge and personal, professional experience in making interpretations and analyses. We are aware that our ‘positionality’ (Hertz, 1997, p.xiii) and familiarity with the context can inhibit insight (Rosaldo, 1989; Bolak, 1997), at the same time, every ethnographic ‘telling is interpretative’ (Bruner, 1986, p.49) and the ‘outside within’ position can be particularly informative (Bolak, 1997). Generally, our interest is in better alternative futures –for ourselves, our colleagues and our students, and we believe that revealing our own agenda strengthens our validity and sincerity claims in this matter (Habermas, 1984). As long as the telling is derived from the ‘uncompromising origin’ of fieldwork, Charmaz and Mitchell (1997) regard authorial voice as ‘middle ground’ (p.194) between ‘deference to subjects’ views’ and ‘systematic and reasoned discourse’ (ibid.). This is, partly, how we hope to make our arguments convincing.

2.Reflexivity, Action Research or Formative Evaluation?

A key element of our argument, to which we shall return as a theme, is that the separation of research and improvement of teaching is an obstacle to progress. The bid reflected HEFCE guidelines and priorities. The purposes of the project were presented as concrete, pre-specified, outcomes known as ‘deliverables’ which focused on ‘development’ (actual practices)[5] and were expressed as a contract between HEFCE and the three institutions. Examples are, ‘enrolling departments to become involved’, ‘support and consultancy work with departments who had agreed to develop mentoring systems’, enrolling part time staff for participation in a distance teacher training course, and producing a handbook on mentoring[6].

As a sociologist and a sociology-inclined educationist, we wanted to understand the existing conditions for part-timers within institutions before thinking about how to develop mentoring systems. We also have a view of research as an essential component of the improvement of everyday practice. So we incorporated it into the project but the agreement to do so was not complete, it amounted to an agreement to do ‘research’ as long as it did not interfere with ‘development’. We got around this by committing ourselves to being reflexive about what we found and to attempting to construct in our own minds the work as a form of ‘action research’ or ‘formative evaluation’- which of these depends on where we locate the ‘mentor developer’, as insider or outside.

Action research has a long and radical history. Its origins are attributed to Kurt Lewin who, in the 1930s, experimented with improving productivity in factories through democratic participation (Adelman, 1993). Typically though, it aims to produce knowledge that will have an impact on practical problems identified by the practitioners themselves. It is seen as a way of closing ‘the gap between our […] aspirations and our attempts to operationalise them’ (Stenhouse, 1975); but also as a form of professional development in its close connection to ‘reflective practice’ which focuses on self-knowledge. It can be argued that the principles of action research are harmonious with Habermas’s theory of communicative action, outlined later. For example, this is Kemmis’s definition:

‘Action research is a form of self-reflective enquiry undertaken by participants in social (jncluding educational) situationsin order to improve the rationality and justice of (a) their own social or educational practices, (b) their understanding of these practices, and (c) the situations in which the practices are carried out.’ (1993, p.177)

Historically, one strand of educational evaluation is close to action research in its democratic aspirations. As Simons (1987) explains, this field of evaluation developed in the 1960s as a response to ‘the need to monitor large scale social programmes and […] to inform policy deliberations at different levels of educational activity and accountability.’ (p.7). The idea was established early on that evaluation’s purpose was to serve curriculum developers by offering ‘formative’ (Scriven, 1967) information to enable improvement as projects progressed. We also took on the notion ‘the role of formative evaluation is ‘to question the assumptions which underpin the curriculum in action, rather than to view it as an unproblematic expression of its own stated aims’ (Nixon, 1989, p.128[7]). So, from these points of view, we conceived of the ‘mentor developer’ role as one in which investigations would take place as part of information-giving and communication processes aimed at improving practice.

We are now in a position to reflect on what we have learned from this type of research process, and as academics feel compelled to write this down. This could be hazardous. As ‘developers’ we are implicitly asked to report success; but as ‘researchers’ we do not want to collude in the easy acceptance that projects are happening and worthwhile[8]. From a sociological point of view, our development, research and evaluation activity has been political. As Hamilton et al. (1977), discussing evaluation, put it:

Evaluation entails a view of society. People differ about evaluation because they differ about what society is, what it can be and what it ought to be. Much of the debate about evaluation is ideology disguised as technology.’ (p.25)

This applies equally to the improvement of teaching and to research.

This way of constructing the work emerged as it was being undertaken. In the first year we[9] collected data to help us understand the degree of support that pre-existed the project. One of the ways we did this was to visit Sociology departments and sections and speak to staff at all levels including the heads and the part-timers themselves. The departments we visited were self-selected, they wanted to join the project and evaluate and transform their support and or training for part-time teachers. We visited twelve departments. Some were visited separately by both Andrea and the Project Manager others were visited by one. We then arranged interviews and focus groups where we could. Some of these were tape-recorded, at others notes were taken. In doing this we hoped to identify the types of existing practice and explore different contexts.]

Making use of Habermas’s theory to make sense how we can improve university teaching work

For us, Habermas’s theory resonates with out interests and commitments, illuminating the nature of the problems we perceive in our own professional world. Broadly (and at the risk of over-simplification), he is concerned with what he terms the unfinished project of modernity (1997). He means by this that we should not relinquish the ideals of the Enlightenment, we should continue to ‘promote the control of the forces of nature, but also further the understanding of self and world, the progress of morality, justice in social institutions, and even human happiness.’ (ibid., p.45). To be more proximate, Outhwaite (1994) tells us that Habermas’s practical-political preoccupation is with what, if any, would be the conditions for rational, political discussion in modern, technocratic, democratic society. His view about what is possible ‘lies between Kantian univeralizability and embeddedness in culture and ways of life.’ (ibid.p.56)

Habermas’s optimism about the human capacity to pursue Enlightenment ideals is based on the potential of language ‘already operative in the communicative practice of everyday life, but only selectively exploited.’ (1987a,p 311) He makes two major assumptions: the purpose of language is to make meaning and reach understandings with others about these meanings; and, every user of language is capable of meaningful speech orientated to reaching agreements. This is the capacity for communicative competence. For Habermas the potential for emancipatory change is in the creation of ‘ideal speech situations’ in which people, free from constraints and power relations, rationally discuss and reach agreements about social matters[10]. Intersubjectivty rather than the individual subject becomes the prime focus: “Participants in interaction […].coordinate their plans for action by coming to an understanding about something in the world” (1987a, p.296). This is the theory of communicative action[11].

Those acting communicatively with the intention of reaching understanding with others make three claims: that they are communicating a true proposition; that they are sincere in their claims; and they intend to express something justifiable. But communication is often ‘distorted’. Habermas uses the sociological concept of strategic action to explain what happens when background consensus is lacking; and when the sincerity, truth and the rightness of expressed intentions cannot be taken for granted. The relationship between interlocutors is adversarial and a ‘basic value’ is ‘ successful self-assertion against an opponent’ who pursues competing interests. Strategic action is not concerned with genuine motivation, all it needs is to produce the desired effects, it is feigned or ‘cynical management’ of impressions. (1974,1984,1987a)

Communication distortions take place when ‘lifeworlds’ are inappropriately ‘colonised’ by different rationality, means or ‘media’. In his work as a whole, Habermas appears to construe the life-world as a complex world of practices, customs and ideas, which, when not under threat, tend to be taken for granted. More precisely, the life-world is a resource made up of culture, society and personality. It can be threatened by technical, economic, bureaucratic, or cognitive-instrumental rationality, and by ‘state intervention with monetary and bureaucratic means’ (quoted in Outhwaite, 1996., p.295[12])[13]. Whatever the invasion, the symptoms of a colonised life-world are severe:

‘Interest and inclination are banished from the court of knowledge as subjective factors. The spontaneity of hope, the act of taking a position, the experience of relevance or indifference, and, above all, the response to suffering and oppression, the desire for adult autonomy, the will to emancipation, and the happiness of discovering one’s own identity -all these are dismissed.’ (quoted in Outhwaite, 1996,. p.80[14])

So, from Habermas’s perspective, the improvement of any social, political or ethical matter requires conditions in which ‘undistorted’ communication can take place. We can now begin to conceptualise our problem by starting with two premiss. First, we take it that teaching is a ‘communicatively structured activity’ or an ‘area specialised in cultural transmission, social integration and child rearing ‘ (1987b, p.330). It is ‘dependent on mutual understanding as a mechanism for co-ordinating action.’ (ibid). Secondly, we have taken ‘life-world’ to mean the values, traditions, practices and ideas of university teachers, individually and as an occupational group. It refers to how they see themselves and their role: for example, to the way everyday work is done and talked about; to formal and informal personal relationships with students, colleagues, managers, officials; to what inspires commitment, interest, satisfaction, and a sense of security; to how they position themselves in relation to different actors’ demands on them; and to the degree of control over their own work that they experience.

Now we can argue that the quality of university teaching depends on the quality of agreements that are made about its purpose, nature and value and so on. Attempts at agreements are, in any case, constantly made, for example between students and academics, between managers and academics, and between vice-chancellors and organs of the state. But we are here suggesting that the communication is ‘distorted’ by specifications, prescriptions, quasi-contracts and a technical rational discourse which signal the ‘colonisation of the lifeworld’ of teaching which is dependent on interaction and intersubjectivity (collective thoughts and feeling), and characterised by dilemmas (Rowland, 2000).

Through Habermas’s lens the issue of how to improve university teaching is an ‘ethical-political’ rather than a ‘pragmatic’ issue[15]. This means that better teaching is not simply a matter of personal preference or of technique and skill, but requires negotiated understandings about the nature and purposes of our teaching and of our students’ learning. So any genuine improvement in teaching requires improvements in the conditions that allow for rational discussion. Our contention is that in current conditions it is difficult to have open, rational discussion or conversations about ends and means in which we can make sincere claims about what is right to do.

Moving from Habermas’s abstractions, we have identified four inter-related aspects of these conditions which are , we think, both constraining and personally experienced in everyday university working life. First, contemporary improvement initiatives –usually attached to bids for money and contracts- send the message that success is required, so, in quite a pragmatic and direct way hard-pressed university teachers’ action tends to be strategic or ‘oriented to success’ rather than to ‘reaching understanding’ with others.

Secondly, ‘coming to agreements’ takes time. There has been much discussion of ‘time’ in connection with school teachers’ work that now appears applicable to university teachers’ work. The meaning of time for teachers is an important component of the ‘intensification thesis’ (Apple, 1988; Ball, 1988; Hargreaves, 1994; Hatcher 1994). It is used to refer to the effect of recent state intervention of substantially increasing workloads and work time, and eroding mental, social and emotional space for teachers to reflect on their work. But it is not just any kind of time that is important. Hargreaves (1994) suggests that time is not rewarding for teachers if it is managerially determined (technical rational time); or if it is tied to the status of teachers who have to show they are performing well (micropolitical time). Teachers need time which is experienced as useful, satisfying and authentic because it engages their own professional pre-occupations (phenomenological time), rather than time ‘colonised’ by purposes other than their own.

Thirdly, and in close connection with the previous point, there is the often observed resistance to having one’s work defined by others. In support of Habermas’s colonisation thesis, Outhwaite (1994) points to the evidence of: ‘very substantial resistance offered to the rationalisation of work processes where this involves a reduction in the worker’s autonomy in the direction of their work.’ (p.18)[16] Habermas himself asserts that ‘The human interest in autonomy and responsibility is not mere fancy, for it cannot be apprehended a priori. […]Through [language’s] structure, autonomy and responsibility are posited for us’ (1971, p.29)