Science without Philosophy: What are your Pangs of Tension Today?

I will never forget my first pang of tension as a teacher. It was 1990, and I was full of enthusiasm, eager to implement the reading approach I had been inspired by in teacher’s college. But within six minutes of my first placement in a grade one classroom, I could tell that some children were floundering. They couldn’t tease apart the sounds in words or understand how to look up at the alphabet on the wall and just “know” which letter to use. How were they supposed to figure that out?

The Second Pang: The Shocking Reality

Six weeks into my first teaching assignment as a grade two teacher, I felt a stronger pang of tension. After two full years of kindergarten and grade one, about 20% of my students were still struggling to connect sounds and letters. The typical excuses—parents don’t read to them, family life problems, some children just aren’t capable—didn’t seem like good excuses to me. I experimented with different approaches, focusing on getting the students to write for long stretches daily and providing individualized attention. The classroom was a-buzz with read-alouds and stimulating conversations, yet the question persisted: What had they been doing for two years? What was missing?

My Principal: A Turning Point

Then, the principal at a new school I taught at changed everything. She offered our staff a couple of choices of reading programs instead of making it all up ourselves using ‘themes.’ We chose Open Court, and I could not believe the difference it made to teach phonemic awareness and phonics systematically and explicitly. Once I witnessed the results, I was extremely motivated to find out more. This principal showed us the power of positive relationships and other elements that make a good school tick, such as direct instruction and a stimulating environment – indoors and out.

The Third Pang: Progress Undone

After a couple of years, this principal was moved to a new, very tiny school in the countryside, and the Open Court program was dismantled—despite garnering national attention for our results. I was filled with frustration and confusion. Why all the fuss? Where was the harm? What wasn’t working? Who made this decision? Why aren’t we celebrating rather than dismantling?

Determined to find answers, I left the system part-time and drove to OISE (University of Toronto) to study the research myself. In 1997, the evidence was clear and compelling. Excited, I tried to share my knowledge through workshops for the families of struggling readers, and even provided professional development for kindergarten teachers in phonemic awareness. Success!

The Fourth Pang: Resistance to Phonics

But then came the fourth pang of tension. The mere mention of the word phonics—let alone teaching it systematically or explicitly—was a huge source of tension. Mentioning it quickly pigeonholed me as ‘one of those who shall not be named or trusted.’ Even after securing a successful meeting with the director of one of Ontario’s biggest school boards, I was shut down at the ‘literacy consultant’ level as I tried to share resources and professional development. What was the fear? Why can’t we discuss the research? Why can’t learning phonics systematically and explicitly be as engaging as anything else?

Feeling deflated, I left the system altogether and became an early literacy specialist with the early years system in Ontario. For 16 years, this was one of the most exciting and joyful jobs I have ever had. I couldn’t change the system, but I worked with parents and early childhood educators, supporting them in preparing their infants, toddlers, and preschoolers for later literacy success. It was here that I gained respect for speech language pathologists and found hope in their role in laying the foundation for literacy success.

The Fifth Pang: Academic Resistance

In 2017, while studying for my Master of Education degree in Early Childhood Education at the University of British Columbia, I encountered my fifth pang of tension. I was excited about our “literacy” course, but as one of my peers’ noted, “it felt like walking through a museum”. Most of the research provided was from the 80s and 90s, and the work and conversations were practically the same as when I was in teacher's college in the late 80s. My peers were skeptical of the research I presented, and one of my professors labeled me a “disruptor.” She encouraged me, saying that being a disruptor was a good thing, but it also meant I would always be sensitive to tension. The course presented outdated balanced literacy and whole language philosophical ideas – with very little attention paid to word recognition, or even language comprehension. And not surprisingly, relentless resistance to empirical evidence, let alone more recent empirical evidence (e.g., Castles, Rastle, & Nation, 2018). Why is there STILL so much fear and resistance surrounding empirical literacy research?

At this point, teaching reading according to ample scientific evidence felt like a lost cause. In 2019, I think it was the infamous Steven Dykstra who said, “the reading wars are over, and we lost.” That felt about right.

A Ray of Hope: The ILA Document

But then, the International Literacy Association (formerly the International Reading Association) surprisingly released a document called “Meeting the Challenges of Early Literacy Phonics Instruction.” It was more than I could have ever dreamed—a straightforward, easy-to-read pamphlet that felt like the Berlin Wall had just fallen. And then the Covid pandemic hit in 2020, and Emily Hanford’s podcasts became more mainstream. We now have the “Science of Reading” movement, and the floodgates of reading science were finally opened. No more tension, right?

The Sixth Pang: New Challenges

Ha-ha!! Enter a sixth pang of tension! Who knew? Suddenly, there are brand NEW tensions. Tensions that have kept me up all night and given me migraines.

There are the usual tensions as the science of reading evolves, such as less auditory-only phonemic awareness and more PA with letters, and cultural relevancy concerns with oral reading fluency assessments. And that, I know, is a good thing.

The tension that concerns me now is about the relationship between teachers, researchers, research, ELA instructors in higher ed, and literacy leaders in school boards. For years, at the beginning of my workshops, I used to say, “don’t believe anything I have to say—what I am bringing you is just information. It is the best information I have so far, and it is grounded in the best evidence and knowledge that I have so far. Knowledge comes from putting things into practice, so test out what you learn, and build your knowledge!”

But from my personal experience (and from listening to teachers), this is not the message that is coming across. The message sounds more like, “Here's the new research, and this isn't in alignment anymore; That's not what the research says, etc.", and I even once had the experience of a group of teachers who were so dismayed by one piece of a very comprehensive course I was leading (for which I was grateful for the correction/awareness), they decided to not trust, respect, or even attend any more of the course (which was such shame because this kind of all-or-nothing thinking shuts down interesting and informative discussions for everyone). I've also experienced stonewalling after asking challenging questions, and vague answers in non-reciprocal conversations.

I much prefer (and was expecting) something more along the lines of:

·       Hmmm, I just read [a research article] that found that..., and I wonder what..., think that..., question if...

·       Yes, I agree, and I wonder how this fits with...

·       I like the way you are trying that - I've been trying...

·       Hmmm, I have been listening to..., and am curious about ...

·       What do you think about...?

·       Have you read...?

·       I'm not sure about...

I usually feel excited about reading/studying research articles and learning new ways of doing things and feel very curious about new research and creative ways of putting the research into practice - not stressed. This stress is telling me that something is off. The enthusiasm I was expecting (because, honestly, FINALLY!!) has not been enthusiasm at all, but in some cases, very stressful tension. This has been a shock. The tension with research into practice is still present even among SoR advocates, but now it has an even more powerful engine—the science of reading.

So, when an article comes out like, say, "Does English Have Useful Syllable Division Patterns?" (Kearns, 2020), some literacy leaders immediately begin to make assumptions and decisions: "We shouldn't teach syllable division; Syllable division is not useful because this research says...; it takes way too much teaching time and cognitive load to teach syllable division considering the lack of consistency syllable division patterns, this is an outdated Orton-Gillingham strategy, etc. (for Louisa Moats' take on this article and the topic of syllable division, listen to Anna Geiger's Triple R Teaching podcast, where Louisa Moats states clearly that she things Kearns (2020) has gone too far).

Noooooo..... Not this again. Not the all-or-nothing thinking again.

How about:

• Hmm. Interesting research. I wonder about the experiences of the researcher who interpreted these findings.

• I wonder how much experience the author has with teaching profoundly dyslexic, DLD, ADHD students?

• In my experience, it has been the opposite of cumbersome after I got the hang of explaining it more simply, and using it in specific ways (e.g., just with closed and open syllables at beginning of instruction with dyslexic students; via morphology; for teacher training, etc.).

• Here is how I have tried it so far, how do you teach this?

• Here is my rationale for teaching it this way, and I think I am going to try...

• I think that we are in agreement with...

This article states/assumes that teaching syllable division is "effort intensive" (p. S145), and a "time-consuming departure from the text itself" (S153). Those are easy things to jump on board with. So when I see a research article like this that makes claims based upon what appear to be clear strong facts (the data seems relevant and interesting), I immediately question how I teach, and get curious about how I do things. I enjoy reviewing my rationale, my teaching practices, and how it fits with this one article's claims. But when I hear literacy leaders making assumptions and the researchers themselves make bold conclusions, especially from journal articles that have touted balanced literacy/whole language approaches in the past, I feel tension.

I feel disappointed that communication and relationships between teachers, literacy leaders, and higher education professionals have not evolved as much as I thought they would. While teacher opinion about what works has literally unwittingly harmed some children, the problem was not necessarily because teachers did not have good, creative ideas and ways of teaching. Had the hierarchies in school boards and higher education been providing them with a greater unbiased variety of evidence-based literacy research through positive open-minded reciprocal relationships, I am sure that we would be much further along.

Is there no room for teachers to share and use their expertise or experiment in terms of how we put research into practice? Do we not have to try out the research both ways/several ways before seeing what works best or figuring out the details? Are teachers not researchers as well? Could we not be much more effective if we worked together rather than in a hierarchy? Even renowned and highly respected researchers in the field say contradictory things about the research (e.g., teach to mastery, don’t teach to mastery). How can we better support teachers in their creative efforts to put research into practice? Where does the reciprocity of teachers, researchers, and educational leaders fit into the Science of Reading? How can we stay out of the weeds (the minutiae) where tensions may arise (ironically, because of ‘semantics’), and cheer teachers on as they learn to navigate the WEALTH of information coming their way? 

I understand why Science of Reading leaders are so “enthusiastic”. I have witnessed the Marie Clay and Lucy Calkins movements, and the challenges that have ensued because of teachers who believe charismatic leaders, school boards that believe the hype in a program or interpretation of particular research, and professors who believe wholeheartedly in philosophical approaches. But it seems to me that we are starting to bark up the same tree here. I recently shared this quote with my son (a 'philosopher' type ;):

“Science without philosophy, facts without perspective and valuation, cannot save us from havoc and despair. Science gives us knowledge, but only philosophy can give us wisdom.” – Will Durant

This quote soothes my soul and feelings of doubt, insecurity, frustration, disappointment, and tension recently. I understand that this must sound CRAZY after 4 decades of philosophy without the equal weight of the whole of science. But I just didn’t expect to feel the same kind of hierarchical tension now that we have the Science of Reading to back us. I expected relief.  (to be fair, there is a great deal of relief ;)

There is so much joy in sharing reciprocal, respectful conversations about research (I particularly enjoy Anna Geiger's (aka The Measured Mom) conversations on her podcast and in her new book "Reach All Readers" (2024) as she is an expert at chewing over the research together with her own experience, and discussing it with others in empowering ways (i.e.: asking questions about what others think, how others do things).

Thus, I wonder how we may be able to ease the tension in the field, prop up and honour teacher expertise, build supportive relationships, and honour the truth that every new answer raises new questions, and no one person or ‘science’ can know everything about the many integrated facets of literacy. (note that I am aware that this must sound like Kenneth Goodman’s “my science is different” comment, but I assure you, and reassure you from the “pangs” above, that this is not my intention, nor my point).

I have recently been inspired by the National Writing Project’s (a US professional development network for teachers of writing from pre-K to higher ed) core principles:

• Teachers at every level—from kindergarten through college—are the agents of reform; universities and schools are ideal partners for investing in that reform through professional development.

• Writing can and should be taught, not just assigned, at every grade level. Professional development programs should provide opportunities for teachers to work together to understand the full spectrum of writing development across grades and across subject areas.

• Knowledge about the teaching of writing comes from many sources: theory and research, the analysis of practice, and the experience of writing. Effective professional development programs provide frequent and ongoing opportunities for teachers to write and to examine theory, research, and practice together systematically.

• There is no single right approach to teaching writing; however, some practices prove to be more effective than others. A reflective and informed community of practice is in the best position to design and develop comprehensive writing programs.

• Teachers who are well informed and effective in their practice can be successful teachers of other teachers as well as partners in educational research, development, and implementation. Collectively, teacher-leaders are our greatest resource for educational reform.

I think that most of these core principles could be an effective backbone for the core principles of teaching of reading/Science of Reading as well. If not, I am curious about what I am missing. I understand the critical nature of the 'science of reading', and the invaluable contributions of those who make sure that we are using this science to make beginning reading instruction more equitable. What I am most curious about now is: How we can manage the minutiae through more empowering and more reciprocal relationships? How can we honour both the science and teacher 'boots-on-the-ground' expertise?

This image keeps coming to mind. It comes from the Canadian Language and Literacy Research Network's (2008) Foundations for Literacy Toolkit (p. 18) (CONTINUALLY lost on the web for some mysterious reason). This may or may not be within the realm of the Science of Reading (there is simply too much to keep track of), but it makes logical, and dare I say, philosophical, sense to me.

Perhaps, as one of my colleagues suggested, these relationships could be strengthened if teachers were expected to have the same professional accountability (e.g., 'entrance/exit' exams, continuing education course requirements, etc.) as, for example, speech language pathologists, medical professionals, or lawyers. That is a whole other bucket of tension that seems to stem from the power of teacher unions, and another long history of relying on philosophy without science. Will we ever get this ironed out?

I just listened to a terrific "All for Literacy" podcast with Dr. Julie Washington (Season 3, Ep. 1). Dr. Washington shared her thoughts about Thomas Kuhn's (1962) seminal work: The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (the history, philosophy, and sociology of science), and noted that Kuhn's thoughts about paradigm shifts are that 'until the universities are teaching it, and textbooks are writing about it, the shift hasn't happened yet'. Darn it. So the tension continues. But also, yay! As this work sheds light on paradigm shifts in general, and the cycle of science at the core of them, I have found myself down this rabbit hole to look for answers that will help me understand and navigate my nagging tensions in this field.

And so, with Dr. Holly Lane’s Science or Snake Oil webinar in my back pocket as a guiding beacon, I am going to keep learning, and keep paying attention to the tension.

(if you have not viewed this webinar, it is an engaging and practical presentation to help us understand the various levels of scientific evidence, of which blogging by someone like me is – rightly so – at the bottom of the pyramid ;) (Pattan, 2022)

To sum up, I suspect that there is much to be unpacked here - both scientifically and philosophically - but from my recent experiences, I think that a core set of principles about the teaching of reading could come in handy right about now.

References

The University of West Florida (2024). ECWP Core Principles. Retrieved from https://uwf.edu/academic-affairs/departments/school-of-education/national-writing-project/about-us/ecwp-core-principles/

Canadian Language and Literacy Research Network (2008). Foundations for Literacy: An Evidence-based Toolkit for the Effective Reading and Writing Teacher. Retrieved from https://readingsuccess.ca/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/Hawkin-2008-Foundations-for-literacy-an-eivdence-based-toolkit-for-the-effective-reading-and-writing-teacher.pdf 

Castles, A., Rastle, K., & Nation, K. (2018). Ending the reading wars: Reading acquisition from novice to expert. Psychological science in the public interest, 19(1), 5-51.

Geiger, A. (2024). Reach All Readers: Using the Science of Reading to Transform Your Literacy Instruction. John Wiley & Sons.

Kearns, D. M. (2020). Does English have useful syllable division patterns?. Reading Research Quarterly, 55, S145-S160.

Kuhn, T. S. (1962). The structure of scientific revolutions. In International encyclopedia of unified science, (vol. 2 no. 1). University of Chicago Press.

Pattan (2022). Is It Science? Or is it Snake Oil? 2024 Pattan Literacy Symposium. Dr. Holly Lane. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=scKQCK-UMqM&list=PLCkBP2csbOstGGxszwMivXN14j3lexEDn 

University of Florida Literacy Institute (2022). Science Or Snake Oil: How to Tell the Difference. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xc5SjcLQ5Ow