Stoicism and the science of learning
Focus on what you can control
Some people are deeply unhappy about the science of learning movement and I wonder whether, in part, this is the result of a couple of key misunderstandings.
Setting aside our views on whether we think ‘science of learning’ is the right term, it has become one that people recognise. I am ambivalent about it, but what I like is that ‘science’ connotes a provisional state. A scientific education teaches us that science is never complete. It is never finished. The best we can hope for in education is that the simplified models researchers build have the power to predict—often only on average and not for each individual student—what will happen as a result of a specific intervention. A scientific perspective is the opposite of a fixed and dogmatic view of the world and so it is with some irony that critics of the science of learning accuse it of being fixed and dogmatic.
And I wonder whether this accusation stems from a further misunderstanding—the idea that proponents of the science of learning believe that only the teacher and what the teacher does in a classroom affects what is learned by students.
If this really was what advocates of the science of learning believed, then they would be wrong. Some students have learning disabilities and disorders. Some live in poverty and this can militate against learning in many connected ways. For example, a student may come to school having not had breakfast or they may be late because they have taken responsibility for looking after a younger sibling. Sometimes, students have a home life that is not conducive to academic learning. They may have nowhere to complete homework or parents who are antagonistic towards it. They may move around a lot as their family seeks work or they may have been subject to violence and abuse. I could continue.
In my experience, advocates of the science of learning do indeed recognise that outside factors affect learning. It is one reason, for example, why teachers are sceptical that disruptive classroom behaviour can be avoided by simply planning engaging lessons.
So, why does this misunderstanding arise?
It is true that advocates of the science of learning spend most of their time and energy discussing the effectiveness of different teaching strategies and this perhaps leads to the impression that they think these are the only factors that matter.
I don’t believe they do think this. Instead, I believe advocates are focusing on teaching methods because they have, perhaps unwittingly, adopted a Stoic mindset. Stoic thinking encourages us to focus on factors we can control.
Take, for example, poverty. A teacher cannot fix or even attempt to adequately address the fact that the students they teach live in poverty. There is some debate at a policy level about which are the best levers to address poverty—is it free markets and deregulation or the provision of a social safety net? Regardless, unless they stand for office, these levers are not ones a teacher can pull. They can pay heed when they go to vote, doing their due diligence when choosing a candidate, but extensive rumination on the issue of poverty is likely to lead to a sense of helplessness. At least, that’s what Stoic philosophers would have advised.
In contrast, teachers do have agency over the teaching methods they select. This may not be at an individual level if they are in a school that takes a particular stance, but they can often decide which schools they wish to work in. Moreover, their advocacy about teaching methods is far more likely to lead to change at the school level than their advocacy on the issue of poverty is likely to lead to change at the governmental level.
If we learned of evidence showing that disadvantaged students needed different teaching methods than their more advantaged peers then that would be relevant to the science of learning and if it were going to maintain a scientific stance, this body of knowledge would need to incorporate this new evidence. Yet the evidence as it stands seems to suggest those teaching methods that appear to be more effective for all students are particularly effective for disadvantaged students. So this line of reasoning doesn’t appear to lead anything new.
It may be that there are personality traits that lead to an individual adopting a more Stoic worldview and that these individuals tend to be the ones drawn to the science of learning. That would make a lot of sense.
To me, when I read or hear education academics speaking out about the effects of poverty on learning, it is as if I am listening to a town planner argue that there are many factors affecting traffic flow in a city, including population size and the rate of car ownership.
OK, I think, but what are you going to do about it?