Introduction

My purpose today is to discuss the notion of "The Practical" as laid out by Schwab in a series of papers published over the period 1969-1983. It is important, however, that these papers be seen against the background of many other papers which Schwab published over a much longer period, mainly addressing issues in science education and liberal education.2 The thinking behind all these papers represents a coherent philosophy of social action generally, including the planning and provision of curricula, stemming from a close acquaintance with the work of a number of philosophers of whom Dewey is the most important. Central to this philosophy of social action is the idea of "The Practical". Rather than attempt to offer a full discussion and explanation of this idea, I shall try to exemplify its character by talking about three particular difficulties which it raises (Diagram 1).
 
 

What these difficulties have in common is that they all relate to fundamental differences between common sense notions of what practice is, and the conception of practice as it appears in Schwab's account of the Practical. They are all obstacles to our understanding of what the Practical is.

The first of these is that, within any philosophical perspective, conceptions of practice are determined by conceptions of theory. In education, theory, as opposed to practice, tends to be thought of as abstract and refined in character, and, the more theory is characterized in this fashion, the more practice is conceived as of concrete and mundane: practice is simply what people do in schools and classrooms. In contrast to this position, although the theory/practice opposition is central to the idea of the practical, the kind of opposition which Schwab has in mind is very different from that which is commonly held.

The second difficulty arises from the fact that practice is conventionally thought of as the deployment of resources and the application of skills; so that, if, for example, we discuss how the practice of teaching (as opposed to the theory of teaching) is to be improved, we would most likely engage in consideration of needed resources -- of buildings, materials, etc.) and of requisite skills (of management, presentation, etc.). However, viewed within the perspective of the Practical, practice depends primarily not on resources and skills, but on tradition and character and, therefore, discussion of the improvement of practice needs to be discussion of how tradition is to be shaped and how character is to be formed.

My third difficulty is that practice tends to be seen as value free. Good practice is simply that which works. The idea of the practical, on the other hand, represents practice as full of implications of a social, cultural and political nature and implies that, as we confront problems of practice, we also confront problems of moral choice.

I will discuss each of these three difficulties in turn, and, in doing so, I will hope to convey to you my own understanding of what Schwab means when he talks about the Practical.
 

The First Difficulty: The Practical and the Theory/Practice Distinction

It is fundamental to the notion of practice that it is contrasted with theory. But note that the contrast which Schwab talks about in his "practical papers" is not between theory and practice, but between the theoretic and the practical, and that he is as much concerned to point to what they have in common, as to what separates them. What they have in common is that they are both forms of enquiry. There is theoretic enquiry and there is practical enquiry, but both are philosophically conceived means of treating problems or puzzles. We could, if we wished, remove the labels "theoretic" and "practical" and talk simply about enquiry. But that would obscure the very important point in which Schwab wants to impress upon us: the form of enquiry that we use has to be adapted to the kind of problem which our enquiry is intended to solve. There is, in fact, no universal recipe for conducting enquiry, and by making the wrong choice we risk reaching the wrong conclusions. In the case of curriculum, the choice to which we have to be particularly sensitive is that between the kind of enquiry suited to problems arising from states of mind, and the kind of enquiry suited to problems arising from states of affairs.

In the first case, we need to apply the methods of theoretic enquiry: in the second, the methods of practical enquiry. Schwab believed -- and there is a good deal of evidence to support his belief -- that many mistakes are made because designers of curricula neglect to observe this distinction, and try to use theoretic methods of enquiry when they should be using practical ones. For this reason --for a very practical reason -- he chooses to compare and contrast the theoretic and the practical. In doing this, he is using a rhetorical device, intended to persuade his readers that the process of enquiry contains pitfalls of which they need to be aware. By talking about the theoretic and the practical, he provides them with a way of thinking about this problem, and a way of avoiding it.

Schwab contrasts his two forms of enquiry in terms of: (1) the kinds of problem they deal with, (2) the subject matters they seek out, (3) the methods they apply to this subject matter, and (4) the kinds of outcome to which they lead (Diagram 2).

The theoretic addresses itself to perceived deficiencies arising from states of mind. That is, problems or puzzles about things we do not know, but would like to know. For example, why something predicted by theory fails to occur. In order to solve the problem, we look for data of a general nature and we analyze them according to disciplinary principles (for example, the principles of enquiry in quantum physics). Solving the puzzle means coming up with an explanation for what was discrepant, or not understood.

The practical mode of enquiry, on the other hand, treats states of affairs: human or social conditions which we believe should be improved, or aspirations which we would like to translate into concrete proposals. In this case, the route to the solution lies through knowledge particular to the situation for which the solution is sought: knowledge of persons, of places, of actions, and of the consequences of actions. There is no general principle that allows us to weigh and interpret particular knowledge of this kind. As Schwab says, the Practical has no rule or guide.3

For knowledge to point us towards a solution it has to be deliberated upon. That is, arguments have to be made by individuals or by groups, to which judgement, individual or collective, is applied. As a result of the application of judgement a solution is reached. That solution is not an explanation, but a decision to follow a course of action.

Thus Schwab is enabled to speak of "the radical difference of the practical from the theoretic". The practical differs from the theoretic, he says, "not only in one aspect but in many: it differs ... in method. Its problems originate from a different source. Its subject matter is of a different kind".4 But while these differences need to be pointed out, they are not fundamental. The distinction which Schwab is making is not between theory, which treats problems in a philosophically grounded way, and practice, which deals with them in ad hoc, rule-of-thumb fashion, but between two kinds of enquiry, both philosophically grounded, but adapted to the solution of different kinds of problems. Moreover the findings of the theoretic are necessary, though not sufficient, for the solution of certain kinds of practical problem. While Schwab warns against the use of overriding principles to guide enquiry into problems arising from states of affairs, he does not deny that principled, theoretic enquiry can furnish materials which help in the solution of practical problems. In practical enquiry, however, such materials, along with all other relevant data, must be controlled by deliberation, which is the method of the Practical. Thus, if we are designing curricula, the findings of cognitive psychology, or social anthropology are not irrelevant to our endeavour, but their relevance has to be judged along with that of many other kinds of data, especially particular knowledge of the children to be taught, of the teachers who will teach them, of the settings where teaching will take place, and so on. Moreover, the form in which theoretic arguments enter into practical judgements also has to be determined according to the demands of the deliberative process. These decisions about form and relevance are accomplished through what Schwab refers to as "Arts of Eclectic". "The Eclectic Arts," he says, "are arts by which we ready theory for practical use.... they are arts by which we discover and take practical account of the distortions and limited perspectives which a theory imposes on its subject matter ".5
 
 

The Second Difficulty: The Practical as the Product of Tradition and Character

Contrasting practical enquiry with theoretic enquiry can lead to undue emphasis on the negative aspects of its nature:

1. It does not deal with well defined problems ("practical problems do not present themselves wearing their labels around their necks").6

1. Its subject matter is uncertain. Which matters are relevant to the solution of the problem and which are not? How do we know where to look for evidence, or when we have enough?

1. There is no definite guide or rule that can be applied to the weighing of evidence, or to the movement from evidence to conclusion.

1. There is no way of knowing whether a course of action is the best available one (or, retrospectively, was the best).

As well as depending on collective tradition, the Practical also depends on individual character. There are techniques of deliberation, but it is never entirely clear which technique is needed at which moment of the process. Judgement is required, and the ability to exercise judgement depends not only on tradition but also on traits of character which are best described in the old fashioned language of virtue. For example, in the exercise of individual judgement, patience is an important virtue. In practical situations, where there is no rule or guide to make error obvious, it is easy to rush to judgement on the basis of little evidence. People possessing patience are likely to make better judgements because they review more evidence and weigh it more carefully. Or, in the exercise of collective judgement, humility is an important virtue. Without humility, we believe that our own opinions are correct and do not listen to, or try to understand those put forward by others. But if the decision of the group is to be better than those which might be reached individually by its members, all contributions have to be brought to bear on the process of judgement.
 

The Third Difficulty: The Practical as More Than "What Works"

Raising issues of tradition and character enables me to move more easily to my third and final difficulty about the nature of the Practical: the idea that it consists simply of discovering "what works". In this view, the Practical is simply a matter of technical "know how": there are various means of accomplishing certain kinds of purposes -- for example, increasing the amount of learning that takes place in classrooms -- and the choice between them turns on the question of which practices are most effective. But if tradition and character are important factors in the successful conduct of practical enquiry, then we have to reflect that tradition and character are more than the product of extensive experience of what works. Tradition and character support or sympathise with certain kinds of practice on the basis of what communities or individuals value. And these valuations depend on the perceptions they hold of their histories and their destinies, of what is moral and what is virtuous.

This brings to me one of the most important and least obvious aspects of Schwab's account of the Practical. As far as I know, Schwab does not state in his "Practical" essays that what he is talking about is one of several possible conceptions of the character which practical decision-making might have (Diagram 3). Nor does he make it clear that his choice of a character for the conduct of practical affairs is a moral choice.
 
 

In fact, it would have been perfectly possible for Schwab to have presented account of practical activity which was not dependent on tradition and character. He might, for example, have offered a discussion of how to establish "what works". Such an explanation -- one with which Schwab was thoroughly familiar -- is to be found in Richard McKeon's 1952 paper in Ethics entitled "Thought and action".7 McKeon calls it the "operational" conception of practice. Neither did Schwab choose to subscribe to two other conceptions of the theory/practice relationship discussed by McKeon in the same paper: the "dialectic" and the "logistic". Schwab's choice (following Dewey) of an account of the theory/practice relationship based on "enquiry" stemmed from moral and ethical considerations. Like McKeon, he sees the operational as simply expedient and lacking in any moral character. The dialectic he rejects because he sees it as politically restrictive. To be self-consistent, a dialectical view of practice has to be guided by an account of social evolution to which some people will not be able to subscribe. It will therefore cater for the views and preferences of some to the exclusion of those held by others. The logistic he rejects because it implies a different kind of restriction. In the logistic mode, practice is guided by theoretical knowledge which is the province of experts; expert knowledge is therefore elevated to a level of importance far exceeding that of the knowledge of particulars which others can bring to practical decision making. For Schwab, a theory/practice relationship based on enquiry reflects and supports what he considers to be the best kind of society: one which respects the theoretic, but which understands the different requirements of the Practical and involves, directly or indirectly, the whole community, not a sub-group of dialecticians or experts, in the solution of practical problems. From this morally motivated choice of an enquiry based conception of theory and practice all the rest follows: his account of the Practical as a language for curriculum, his discussion of the eclectic, his proposal for the conduct of curriculum planning groups, his conception of liberal education,8 and so on.
 

Conclusion: Choosing a Conception Of the Theory/Practice Relationship

Thus the Practical appears not just as an account of how courses of action can be decided on and justified, but as a vision of a particular kind of moral world with implications, not only for the design of curricula, but also for the organization of schools, for the character of communities within which schools are set, and for the whole society within which communities are embraced.9 The Practical is emphatically not another version of the administrative or managerial account of curriculum practice. Nor as a humanistic account does it refer solely to the nature of individuals or the nature of schools and classrooms. Its vision, as I hope I have shown, is much broader than that, and it is in the broad vision that the strengths and also the weaknesses of the Practical lie.

If we share the vision, the technical problems involved in the work of deliberate groups seems not so important. In fact, they appear not so much as problems opportunities. But if we do not share the vision, or fail to see it, then we wonder why such an elaborate account of practice is necessary and why we should not prefer some other scheme -- the operational, perhaps -- which seems, on the face of things, to be easier to understand and simpler to use. As Schwab made his choice, so we make ours: is practice more than "what works"? And if it is more, what kind of moral society should it reflect?