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GUEST EDITORIAL

Guest editorial

Guest Editor’s introduction Henning Salling Olesen Roskilde University, Roskilde, Denmark

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Abstract Purpose – The purpose of this editorial is to outline the historical and conceptual context in which the research into workplace learning as a research field is emerging. Design/methodology/approach – The paper in an essayistic knowledge sociology perspective parallels developments in the nature of work and the growing interest in human resources, and hence learning. It confronts the general stereotypes of work with the actual multiplicity of different work domains. Findings – The actual sample of articles is characterized briefly, drawing attention to the epistemological value of concrete studies of different learning experiences in different types of work. Originality/value – The perspective of the editorial is mainly to spur the reflection of researchers in the field to the interrelation between theoretical issues and practical engagement in learning enterprises. Keywords Workplace learning, Learning Paper type General review

This special issue of Journal of Workplace Learning presents a selection of papers from the “6th Researching Work and Learning” conference which took place at Roskilde University, Denmark, in June this year. Though just consisting of a worldwide conference every 2nd year, open to everyone, the RWL is also becoming an established institution with a substantial body of recurrent participants, forming a virtual community of researchers and research interested practitioners. The intention is to give the readers of the Journal an impression of the dynamic and multiple process of this community in its emergence – showing some of the cutting edge developments – but also pointing in many directions like the conference. Scholarship in a globalising, yet multiple context Since this year’s conference marked the 10th anniversary of RWL it was also felt to be time to take stock: what is the nature of this research field in response to this background? Which are the aspirations of the RWL? Where will we be moving on? The chairperson of the self-sustaining international committee, which has kept the conference series going, Peter Sawchuk, gave his perspective of the emergence of Work and Learning as a research domain, on the background of the RWL-conferences in the previous ten years[1]. He pointed to the long history of conceptualisations of work, leading up to the post-industrial interest in the potential of workers’ skills and knowledge. In the first place primarily shifting the focus from work to concepts based on the individual – either in the economic context conceived as human capital, or in an individualistic learning perspective. He pointed out recent attempts to develop “more whole” accounts of workplace learning, which include “an orientation to broader theoretical positions on the nature of the individual, the social and the institutions of

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work and economy” (quoted from preliminary manuscript). The nature of the RWL conferences has been to gather a broad and multidisciplinary range of contributions, and Sawchuk, talking about “robust” lines of inquiry, pointed to the need for a scientific clarification, taking epistemological and ontological questions seriously. The organizing of this scientific community is, however, not just a desktop project. The development of research takes place in a context of global reconfiguration of the reality we study. It is, importantly, a movement of “practically concerned scientists” who research work and learning on the background of a more or less direct engagement in this changing reality. In Sawchuk’s words “. . .more robust lines of inquiry into work and learning more often explicitly recognize the value laden or political nature of both the research process and phenomena they seek to illuminate” (quoted from the preliminary manuscript). Such a travelling conference should first of all be offered the challenge of the local environment. Building an international academic community with an ambition of political engagement we need to keep awake the consciousness of local and different experiences. The RWL5 in South Africa (see Journal of Workplace Learning Vol 20, 7/8, 2008) did this so very well. At a conference hotel in rich, white Stellenbosch we met the stimulating intellectual reflection of the political processes of abolishing apartheid and the paradoxes of a highly developed capitalist economy inside a developing country – and I myself also met young, black, left activists and their families and community facing the enormous social problems at ground floor. Denmark cannot match South Africa in dramatic historical change and struggle. But living in one of the few countries where the traditional labour movement has had a significant influence on institutions and politics in the last century, we tried to give a both a hint of labour history and a keynote discussing the particular local socio-economic environment of work – internationally known as labour market flexicurity – the interplay of a relative social security and the consequent flexibility of the labour market. The social democrat welfare state is under pressure – we have a neo-liberal government in Denmark, and a lot of the “unprejudiced” measures of New Labour have influenced Denmark as well – leaving a scene of great confusion on the left side. But still the historical influence of the labour movement in institutions, in the labour market regulation, in the minds of people, in social distribution, remains. Rather than to think of it as a national privilege which should be protected as a retreat from capitalist globalization we would like to offer it as an experience in the intellectual and academic discussion of alternatives in the global process. In the wake of the economic crisis there is a new awareness that the neo-liberal dominance which follows global capitalism is not a natural force. But there remains an important task for us all: How can we think of a progressive and socially democratic development in a world where the nation state is overridden by global corporations, and where the traditional stronghold of labour, the big industrial plant, is disappearing into the air? Will China and the other developing countries just follow the capitalist mainstream? Research into work and learning is only emerging in China, reflecting this development[2]. Workplace, work and learning: what are we dealing with? To research the relation between work and learning and to distinguish between work and non-work is actually a modern phenomenon, a consequence of new historical conditions. In traditional societies, for most people learning was part of work in everyday life. Learning happened by participation in fixed practices, that were

gradually defined as specific working procedures. It was a broad and comprehensive technical, social and cultural education –, e.g. in a society of hunting and fishing, the learning of specific techniques at the same time the acquisition of basic gender roles and cultural standards. During the historical modernisation process in the last couple of centuries, however, learning has become increasingly institutional in the form of general schooling and vocational training – increasingly there is an attempt to speed up learning and to assume that the individual enters work life with an already pre-packed capacity to work without having to learn at work. In industrial capitalism the division of labour between those who do the thinking and those who conduct the work has materialised in machinery and other artefacts. The modern architecture of knowledge and work has reduced relevant learning opportunities and learning challenges in the work process to a minimum for many people. Even direct workplace related skills –, e.g. training to operate a new machine – have increasingly become separate activities to a substantial extent. However, the last few decades have witnessed a recurring interest in the workplace as a learning arena in itself. The old saying of Karl Marx that competition does not take place in the market but in the production itself has materialized in the focus on human resources. It is probably a double dynamic: on the one hand there is an increasing awareness among direct actors in work life (managers as well as some groups of workers) of the significance of skills and competences, and the new qualities of competences which are becoming decisive. On the other hand there is a growing recognition that formal education and training do not fulfil the (high) expectations put on them. The standard connotation of a workplace is probably a specific location of organized labour, a workshop where sweating and oil-dripping men do heavy work with tools and machines to produce physical artefacts or make specific services, or a factory where women on an assembly line conduct a few tasks as their small contribution to an ever ongoing mass production. For very many people this is a lifelong experience. There are still huge numbers of industrial workplaces which confirm the concrete side of the metaphor. Most of them have very little space for learning, and mostly learning is adaptation to prescribed operations and intensity training. Innovations in products or technology may very well be seen as just disturbances, requiring further adaptation. But used as a general reference it becomes a stereotype which does not grasp real variation. Its symbolic connotation may not even apply to a majority of people in the developed part of the capitalist world. The concrete reality of many work places is dramatically different from the stereotype. Industrial work places are developing rapidly. Most work places have much more space for agency, discretion and improvement for individuals or groups. A good deal of industrial work has turned into planning, control and adjustment, as well as communication and logistic tasks. Reporting has become an integrated aspect of manufacturing and service work. The quantitative proportion of office work and different types of business services is increasing, the difference from manufacturing on the other hand is becoming less obvious. Office work is undergoing many processes of industrial reorganisation similar to those that took place in manufacturing. Automation and semi-automation by means of information technology is shaping data processing, accounting and text processing in a way which has similarities with the industrial development. The

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learning needs and learning opportunities following from this development for those workers employed in the direct operation are increasingly similar to those of manufacturing, but at the same time the new bifurcations of work – in the form of new divisions of labour between professional and technological work on the one side and direct operational work on the other – offer new learning opportunities for those workers employed in the development of technology. This broad variety of the qualitative requirements of work situations as well as of the relations between work task, worker, and the skills and competences of the workers must be kept in mind in the following. The meaning of “Workplace learning” is to a large extent derived from the notion of work place and is a similar amalgamation, on the one hand referring in general to workplace as societal institution, on the other hand persuasively indicating a spatial and sensual reality which can only be understood in specific cases. In order to avoid the stereotype we must think of a range of different forms of work and learning. But workplace is a powerful metaphor hovering over the reference to these particular types of work, hinting at a specific spatial and sensual work place, which can only be understood in specific cases, as well as being a general representation of work and workers organized by capitalist modernisation. For this reason it is of particular interest to look into new types of jobs and workplaces which represent growing sectors, and especially those which challenge the stereotyping of the workplace metaphor. Professional work is of particular interest – although the term professional is used in quite different ways in different language communities, and with a reference to significantly different societal organisations of professional work. With a wide definition of professional work – referring to knowledge based work – it is an increasing proportion of the entire labour market which is defined in the mediation between development of knowledge and technology on the one side and the development of work tasks on the other side. One area of professional and semi-professional work has quite specific features in relation to learning: work with people, human services, is characterized by a direct personal relation between worker and the “work object”, who are human beings themselves. Care and human services requires the direct personal engagement of the workers in the field. In some cases it is more difficult to develop generalized procedures, independent of context, clients and professional workers. To some extent this means to apply competences developed in their “private” life, in relation to family members, friends and neighbours, to the professional work. The selected articles The selection in this issue primarily aims to bring a broad and rich impression of the research area in the form of contributions which each in their own right present interesting research. All are stimulating pieces that I would myself like to discuss and sometimes dispute. They are also meant to cover some of the multitude of this research. For these reasons they cannot easily be put in a nice matrix. Nevertheless I have tried to organize them in a specific order: . articles immediately relating learning to the workplace – how the work environment at the concrete workplace level facilitates or constrains learning, and how organized learning can relate to the workplace;

articles which deal with the way in which work and life are intertwined in people’s lives, and how the specific qualities of workplaces interplay with cultural and personal background of workers; and articles which deliver outlines of comprehensive conceptual frameworks which can embrace learning in work on a societal scale.

Guest editorial

The first group of articles explores the learning spaces in workplaces, and theorizes factors that influence learning. The first article (Scheeres, Solomon, Boud, Rooney) illuminates the micropolitics of workplace learning: where as learning is an uncontested value in discourses of management as well as of professionals of HRD and formal education, it is in the mind of workers and within the workplace a much more complex relation. The title “When is it okay to learn at work?” suggests that learning which has been embedded in development processes and practices that are legitimate and meaningful for the workers – in casu dealing with safety procedures – has been appreciated. The article compares this experience with previous research in which learning discourses and role as learners were abandoned. The results confirm a general practice theory approach and the article continues by elaborating the dimensions of learning environments. Per-Erik Ellstro¨m’s article has a similar point of departure but is in one way more radical. It is not about learning in the first place, but about innovation in organisations. But in order to establish an understanding of the dynamics of innovation it establishes a framework which can also be seen as a framework for the interplay between the organisationally intended and unintended aspects of organisations in their cyclic change processes. And since workplaces are also organized interplays between workers, this potentially becomes a productive analytical framework for learning in workplaces – now dealing with individual learners’ as well as organizations’ development. The notion of learners has moved beyond the abstract individual. The organization and culture of the workplace is of decisive influence. But so also is its interplay with workers’ social and cultural background. This appears particularly clear with the gender aspects of those new, emerging work domains of human services – health, education, social work – which on the one side presume a strong subjective involvement in work, and have historically been based in female socialisation – but are now increasingly becoming professions in their own right – and wage labour in terms of work organisation. Anne Liveng’s article offers an empirical study of caring work within a conceptual framework of recognition, which emphasizes the special nature of this work. The concept of recognition also points out how an environment which is supportive for learning can be created. Health and care workers’ experiences in two empirical examples indicate that contexts where professional hierarchies are suspended and a mutually recognising environment can be established seem to be supportive for learning. Beside comment on particular interplays between gender and professional hierarchies, in this sector Liveng also points out the general perspective that recognizing working environments can facilitate learning. Angelique Wildschut – as well as Anne Liveng – contributes to research in the growing sector of professional work in the health sector, and likewise draws attention to the specific importance of gender in these professions. However, where Liveng

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points out the learning opportunities which are opened by the recognition of workers independent of their professional position, Wildschut focuses on the tendency that hierarchies and the differential nature of medical specialties will confirm gendered identities and thereby reconfirm the gender segregation in the medical profession. Reid, Petocz and Gordon deal with a didactic problem which highlights the relation between work and formal education in a very concrete way: how do education programmes that prepare for professional work represent the issues and practices of the work situation? This is a highly interesting practical question for all education and training programmes which have aspects of professional training and also for those that involve traineeships. It may also stimulate theoretical considerations about the nature of learning and its relation to practice: in a way their question reverses the approach of practice theory. The rationale of formal education is to establish learning before being in the practice situation – paradoxically, it tries to anticipate the practical situation at the same as utilising the abstraction from it. The following group of articles move the focus away from the work place, to the interplay between work and life course. Hefler and Markowitsch, who won the best paper award at the RWL6 conference, have worked out a suggestion for a typology of participation in formal adult education on the background of life course and the relation between education and work career. One may discuss the function of such a typology, and they do so briefly, but it is especially stimulating in its attempt to bring together a comprehensive material of participants in adult and continuing education, and to cut across adult learning in formal and informal learning settings. In the context of lifelong learning policies, the whole definition framework which can embrace learning and learning outcomes in fundamentally different settings has become a bureaucratic version of the intention of understanding competence building on the context of the learner’s trajectory. Hefler and Markowitsch’s attempt provides an impressive, logical organizing of participation motives, and in this way provides an impressive systematization of learning patterns. Heather Hodkinson deals with the un-learning of work, i.e. learning how to retire – and thereby showing how work structures not only the life course but also the subjective identity process. Her article uses data from individual biographical accounts in her analysis, and in this way illustrates that individual data can be interpreted in a social context. Her analysis, although in reverse, also contributes to the understanding of work identities as lifelong processes of relating subjectively to work in individually socialised ways. The last article, by Tara Fenwick, brings to this audience a few recent developments in social sciences. She examines commonalities and some differences in three approaches which share the attention to the material side of social relations (and hence also learning). One of them is cultural-historical action theory, which takes up the line from practice theory; the two others in a more radical way move the centre of attention from the individual learner to the material and relational nature of social processes. Material processes and relations – including biological-organic reproductive as well as historical practices – are suggested to be the dynamics of learning, rather than the (often underestimated) environmental aspects. Partly it is a continuation of practice theory, partly it is a more systems oriented thinking. Fenwick’s article takes up a theme that I think will have be a focus of future research in this area: the study of the societal nature of subjectivity. Talking about

subjectivity does not refer to an individual attribute or quality: on the contrary, I think we need to depart from a traditional humanistic assumption of the independent, rational and conscious individual subject, and instead see subjectivity as a transaction of historical and material relations. Just to give a contemporary perspective: China is – besides its increasing role in world capitalism – also the best example on a world scale of the fact that local history and culture, now merging with international influence, is a decisive factor in understanding learning, work practices and organisation of workplaces. What are the differences and similarities between “Chinese people” and “Western people”? How was the idea of “Western people” produced? But attention to “people” is also relevant on a smaller scale of differences. Phenomena of subjectivity have always been within the horizon of research at RWL. Sometimes in a psychological guise, sometimes as an individual agency and consciousness process within a social situation of work or organized education, mostly reproducing a conceptual dichotomy between individualizing psychology and approaches of sociology, political science, organisation theory, and even cultural studies, which have neglected psychic dimensions of social interaction, political engagement and cultural identities. In a time where “external” political conditions are shifting we need not only for theoretical reasons – understanding contexts and dynamics of learning – but also for redefining our political engagements to pay specific attention to the “societal (re)production of subjectivity”, forms of democracy, i.e. ways in which workers’ engagements and political forces are present in work and learning. In the RWL6 we planned a keynote on this theme from a continental European context, drawing on Marxism and psychoanalytical thinking in the tradition of the Frankfurt school, to be given by Professor Oskar Negt. He is first of all a political philosopher who has given a radical re-conceptualization of work. By the notion of “living work”, as opposed to “dead work” in Marx’s concepts, he emphasizes the nature of life process involved in work, and hence also the need to understand the subjective investment in the specific productive process as well as the production of collective experience at the same time as a concrete commodity or service. It is a notion of work which criticises the narrowing of the notion of work to (paid) labour in the formal capitalist economy, bridging to a more comprehensive horizon which also embraces informal work, house work, cultural activities – all necessary but not necessarily paid – and in this way also opens the horizon for understanding gendered division of labour as a societal relation. This theoretical framework implies that learning and other subjective processes cannot be seen as isolated individual processes but as collective, historical processes embedded in the societal organisation of work. It is a theoretical framework which is hard to understand without further understanding of critical theory and the integration between psychoanalytical and sociological thinking in German social theory. Unfortunately Oskar Negt became ill, and had to withdraw at the last minute. So this experiment will remain for later. Instead, I myself took the opportunity to say something more of the consequences of the Anglophone horizon – telling why I found important inspiration within continental Europe, and thereby hopefully fulfilling part of the unresolved mission which was assigned to Oskar Negt, namely to induce some curiosity about the cultural, academic and political traditions which do not occur in English[3].

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One of the potential losses of the globalisation process in an Anglophone lingua franca context – for good and for bad, enabling access to different cultures and research traditions is the simultaneous isolation of international academic communication, “forgetting” some of the great sources of theory and scholarship which have grown in the other world languages – German, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Russian, Chinese . . . ..The RWL conferences form an entirely Anglophone community with a few hangers-on from Finland, Sweden, Denmark, and a few other non-English speaking countries. The keynote from Oskar Negt was also intended to be a language experiment, a German lecture with summarizing translation – we were sure this Anglophone community would have the patience to listen in this way to a great scholar and influential thinker who has hardly been translated into English. This enhancement of horizon is then still pending. Notes 1. His talk, as well as all keynote lectures throughout the conference, is available in video streaming at the web site of the conference, www.rwl6.ruc.dk, together with basic information on the conference, and for this reason is not included in this issue. You can also find further information about the RWL conferences in general. 2. A Chinese colleague, Professor Jian Huang from East China Normal University, one of the leading institutions in Adult and Continuing Education research in China gave a lecture on some of the Chinese ways of defining and developing the field of work and learning. 3. This lecture which is an informal introduction to some of the central ideas of Oskar Negt can also be streamed from www.rwl6.ruc.dk Corresponding author Hanning Salling Olesen can be contacted at: [email protected]

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The current issue and full text archive of this journal is available at www.emeraldinsight.com/1366-5626.htm

When is it OK to learn at work? The learning work of organisational practices Hermine Scheeres, Nicky Solomon, David Boud and Donna Rooney

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Research Centre for Learning and Change, University of Technology, Sydney, Australia Abstract Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to examine the use of “learning” through what we have termed “integrated development practices”. These are common organisational practices that both enhance organisational effectiveness and contribute to organisational and employee learning. Design/methodology/approach – The paper analyses the ways in which learning and being a learner were talked about and enacted with regard to one of the integrated development practices identified in a study of four different organisations – safety practices, and how learning and being a learner regarding safety were legitimate in one of the organisations. Data are drawn from semi-structured interviews with members of a variety of workgroups in one major division of the organisation. Findings – Interviewees’ responses reflected that learning was fully embedded as an accepted part of a necessary function of the organisation. This use of a learning discourse is discussed in the light of findings from an earlier study on informal learning at work that suggested that learning and the identity of being a learner were sometimes resisted in the everyday culture of work. Originality/value – Using the theorisations of practice of Schatzki and the lifelong education framework of Delors the paper discusses the implications of these findings to examine when it is acceptable to articulate learning as part of work and be identified as a learner at work. Keywords Workplace learning, Learning organizations, Working practices Paper type Research paper

Introduction Learning discourses pervade contemporary workplace and organisational literatures. This foregrounding of learning has shifted, or at least disturbed, more traditional discourses of education and training in the context of work. As such, the shift has opened up exploration of work/learning and worker/learner links. Thus, we know that learning occurs “at” work in many different ways, and that all workers are involved in learning. In this paper, our underlying question is: when is it okay to learn and be a learner at work? We address this question through an investigation of how discourses of learning and being a learner – both explicit and implicit – are accepted and integrated into how employees represent themselves and their work. This question is part of our ongoing exploration of what learning work organisations do. That is, how is learning deployed within organisations and how is learning regarded and talked about. In particular, we are concerned with learning that takes place through organisational practices when there is no teacher, trainer or explicit learning agenda. This is a central focus of our Australian Research Council funded study “Beyond training: integrated development practices in organisations”.

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Our research is located in-between work-related education and training courses and everyday learning at work in that we are concerned with organisationally-sanctioned and named practices that are initiated explicitly to enhance organisational effectiveness. We have called these organisational practices “integrated development practices” (IDPs) which we define as those that: . facilitate learning in a way that is embedded in work; . are independent of formal training programs and are not typically described in terms of training or education; and . are managed or implemented by people whose primary job function is not training or learning. The IDPs are “integrated” in that they constitute part of the “normal” work of an organisation, yet they are also distinctive practices that are named and described in an organisation’s written materials and/or part of employees’ experiences of what goes on in their organisation. We use “development” to refer particularly to the overall aim of the practices to enhance the success of the organisation. Finally, following Schatzki (2005, 2006), we see “practices” as work-related doings and sayings made up of both structure and action, and organised around shared understandings. In a later section of this paper, we elaborate on how we are working with contemporary notions of practice as a conceptual frame to further understand how learning is deployed through work. In the four research sites that form our study, we have identified a range of IDPs including performance appraisal, employee induction, acting up/acting across (positions), projects and team meetings. While our broad focus is on IDPs, here we take up the question of whether learning and being a learner are accepted at work, and use this to illuminate the ways in which IDPs incorporate learning. The paper begins by locating our study and this paper within the wider field of work and learning. It focuses then on conceptual and framing ideas from Schatzki and Delors that we have used, and how we framed our findings for collaborative discussions with the research site organisation. As we wished to involve the organisation actively in our research we sought ways in which learning in the organisation could be communicated effectively to those who had invited us in. Drawing out and making explicit how learning is related to practice theory is part of our ongoing research work, however, to ensure fruitful discussions and feedback we identified Delors’ (1996) notion of the four pillars of education as a useful way of framing our findings regarding learning for workers and managers. The main part of the paper discusses how an IDP, safety practices, in one organisation – a large utility company in NSW, Australia – is deployed, and it draws out how learning is talked about and legitimised as part of the IDP. The company, that we have named SupplyCo, is introduced, and the centrality of (changing) safety practices to its operation and identity is discussed. The data presented is taken from interviews with managers and workers within the utility, and analysed in terms of the discourses they used with respect to the range of safety practices in the organisation. In particular, we explore how employees embed, either explicitly or implicitly, notions and experiences of learning safety practices in their interview responses. We conclude by returning to our question about how learning is regarded within the organisation, and how we presented workplace learning in our discussions with the organisation.

Locating the study: work and learning research In this paper we locate learning as embedded in the practices of work. As researchers, our study of learning and work usually comes from a tradition of research on learning and learners. Within this tradition the research focus is either on work-related learning where learning occurs through structured courses on and off-site, or on everyday learning at work where learning is considered to be involved in the normal conduct of work. However, in this study, while influenced by theorisations within that tradition, we are moving outside pedagogical discourses or interventions (Bereiter, 1994, p. 21; Saugstad, 2005; Boud, 2006), to engage with learning at work integrated with collections of practices that constitute particular kinds of everyday work. Our interest in learning at work is prompted by employees who, when asked to nominate where they learn most, overwhelming point to their workplace as a major site for their learning. Similarly, employers, when asked how their employees learn, suggest that learning through “daily practice means a great deal to the employee’s ability to do a good job” (Skule and Reichborn, 2002, pp. 14-15). Theorists have taken up this idea by trying to understand how and to what extent workplaces are and can be made learning places (Ellstro¨m, 2001). Indeed there is now an extensive literature on this topic with educationalists, sociologists, anthropologists, psychologists, and management and economic theorists bringing their viewpoints and conceptual insights to bear on the domain of learning at work. New concepts have entered the arena of workplace learning including “learning organisations” (Senge, 1990), “situated learning” and “communities of practice” (Lave and Wenger, 1991) “expansive learning” (Engestro¨m, 2001), “curriculum connectivity” (Guile and Griffiths, 2001), “workplace pedagogy” (Fuller and Unwin, 2002) “learning-conducive work” (Skule and Reichborn, 2002), “everyday learning” (Boud and Solomon, 2003), and “learning-networks” (Poell et al., 2000). While the diversity of these new terms reveals disparate theoretical positions, as Hodkinson (2004, p. 12) points out, there is considerable agreement in the literature that “learning at work cannot be separated out from the everyday working practices of the workplace”. We understand learning for work as something that can be seen as separate from yet related to work. We also acknowledge that there is a sense in which learning at or in work is part of what constitutes work practices. In other words, work practices are not simply a series of repetitions of previous practices (though there may be some repetition of particular activities, as well as routines or protocols). Rather, work practices are more than activities in that they involve complex bundles of doings and sayings that change over time (Schatzki, 2006), and these changes involve learning. We maintain it is useful to tease out how learning is implicated in these bundles of doings and sayings, and we are interested in specific kinds of doings and sayings – IDPs. Our focus on IDPs as recognisable and often documented practices that explicitly aim to improve work and worker productivity seeks to contribute a new dimension to the theorisations and investigations of organisational practices and learning. Our interest is identifying and explaining the learning that occurs within IDPs in order to reveal relationships between people, between people and systems, processes and material arrangements. In adopting this position we acknowledge the useful contributions of writers across a range of fields such as those mentioned above. Our concern with practices however does not specifically draw on these writers as we seek to gain different understandings of the relationships that exist between organisations, work, workers and learning.

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Conventionally, learning and work are discursively constructed in distinctive ways. Learning has most often been associated with the world of education and training. It has focused primarily on knowledge and skills as “things” that are able to be learned independent of a specific context. Further, typically learning has been judged or assessed in terms of the individual. Working is primarily located and judged in terms of effects on an organisation and its goals. We are examining practices that straddle these domains in order to further understand how working and learning are integrated generally, but mainly to draw out how practices designated as organisationally important – IDPs – can be understood as learning practices. In addition, we have found that change is a significant element associated with IDPs. As Saugstad (2005, p. 351) writes “Learning and activities in practice are closely connected, since learning is understood as changing positions in a changing social practice”. Learning can therefore be understood as being “located within the context of activity and/or in a social practice”. Embracing or resisting discourses of learning and being a learner While we have a theoretical interest in connecting learning and work discourses and practices, we are also mindful of the tensions in conflating them. In an earlier research project (“Uncovering learning at work”) these tensions came to the fore. In that project we examined ways in which learning occurs in and through everyday work in different sections of a large educational provider with the aim of finding ways that this learning could be harnessed more effectively. As outlined in Boud and Solomon (2003), we found a number of political and identity tensions among the research participants in terms of understanding and naming themselves as learners as well as workers. Some employees openly resisted the identity, for example: I take on board wherever I can whatever I can, without thinking about it as learning. . . I don’t see myself as being a learner. I am happy with what I know at the moment and whatever comes along I’ll use if it’s appropriate.

In the study, the workers’ designated position, and their recognition and power within their working group or the organisation were important factors in the uptake (or not) of learning and learner discourses. This finding drew our attention to the ways the terms “learning” and “learner” have been used in research on workplace and organisational learning as if they were unproblematic in relation to workers’ identities, and as if there was shared meaning about what they referred to. In our current research there has been a different uptake of work and learning discourses illustrated in the following quotes by electrical workers at SupplyCo: Teaching someone something is actually really important in reinforcing your own things and learning. So to put it mildly I try and encourage a learning environment. I myself and perhaps my history . . . , and I’ve worked with a number of mentors who have actually encouraged me through my entire career about learning. Sure what we did today, tomorrow we could better because we know more tomorrow. Again, I emphasis the key word there is “learning”.

These comments demonstrate that in this organisation learning and being a learner appear to be accepted. We found no resistance and learning was not associated immediately with formal education and training processes. This led us to speculate

about what was occurring at SupplyCo that was different from the previous organisation in which the language of learning and being a learner was circumscribed. What could we understand from the practices of SupplyCo that illuminated the ways in which learning was being deployed? What made it okay to identify as learning and being a learner in SupplyCo?

When is it OK to learn at work?

The research site and research methods SupplyCo is one of four organisations in which we have been identifying and describing a range of IDPs (Chappell et al., 2009) to contribute to understandings of the learning work of organisational practices. SupplyCo (a pseudonym) is a state-owned public utility organisation in NSW, Australia, which has been moving towards developing a more corporatised (e.g. self-insured) identity over recent years. Together with providing power they offer a range of related services to over 800,000 customers, they maintain a grid across 24,000 square kilometres and they respond to emergencies. The regional SupplyCo group we worked with was further organised into functional areas, two of which were: transmission and distribution. Transmission is concerned with taking high voltage power and reducing its voltage to meet needs of households and industry. Distribution, as the name suggests, is concerned with distributing the reduced voltage power. While we spoke to some regional managers, for the most part our data comes from workers within the Distribution function of SupplyCo. Data collection occurred over six months in 2008. We conducted 28 semi-structured interviews and participated in many less formal interactions with other workers during SupplyCo events (including Safety Days, barbeques, in lunch rooms and other social spaces). We also facilitated focus groups with SupplyCo employees, and we reviewed organisational documents (including organisational charts, job descriptions, work activity forms, etc). Following thematic and broad discourse analysis of the data we met with SupplyCo managers to present and discuss findings in terms of potential implications and usefulness for the organisation in the future.

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Conceptual framework The principal conceptual emphasis of our study is on practice theory. This has been adopted as it provides a means of acknowledging that work involves complex bundles of doings and sayings that bring together the individual, the social and the organisational to produce effects. It enables us to see organisations as involving groups of practices that can be understood as such by the actors involved, but it also provides ways of theorising what is occurring over time and space. For our feedback sessions with SupplyCo managers to discuss findings we felt that conceptualisations regarding practice that we have been using were not directly relevant to the organisation as we had entered the site emphasising a focus on learning. We sought a way of framing learning that would on the one hand be familiar to them, while on the other hand would introduce what we felt were new ideas and ways of understanding learning in their organisation. We chose Delors’ (1996) idea of the four pillars of education, taken from an educational, lifelong learning perspective. This enabled us to discuss learning, but also relate it to work practices. The framework was well-received by the management group and offered a lens for understanding and, as we were told in a follow-up conversation, promoting the wider learning benefits of a range of IDPs within the organisation.

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Practice theory and organisational practices There is an increasing interest in exploring and theorising practice in contemporary social theory. The “practice turn” has been named to highlight this shift in theorising about social phenomena, including organisations (see for example Schatzki, 2005, 2006; Gherardi, 2000; Gherardi et al., 1998; Nicolini et al., 2003; Kemmis, 2005). It brings to the fore conceptions that all human activity including “knowledge, meaning, science, power, language and social institutions” are part of and constitute the “field of practices” (Schatzki et al., 2001). The practice turn seeks to steer clear of theoretical dualities (for example, individual/social; structure/agency, etc), rather grounding thinking and theorising in practices as the “primary building block of social life and meaning” (Schatzki et al., 2001). Schatzki (2001, p. 2) sees practices as “culturally constituted, meaningful action”, and he suggests that practices are “embodied, materially mediated arrays of human activity centrally organised around shared practical understanding”. The usefulness of a practice approach to this research in particular, and to organisational studies in general, is that it interconnects the individual and the social (for our purposes, the workplace) and meaning with the material. Organisations, rather than being relatively stable entities, are always dynamically unfolding and changing – “organisations as they happen” (Schatzki, 2006). They are “bundles of practices and material arrangements” (Schatzki, 2006) or “systems of practices” (Gherardi, 2000), and this practice approach positions the worker and the social context of work, and the organisation, as mutually produced where knowing and doing cannot be separated (Gherardi, 2000). Exploring our data using these underpinning ideas, we have been able to draw out this mutual production as it occurs in our research sites. This has enabled us to uncover ways in which organisational practices become shared, enmeshed, carried forward and at the same time changed. Schatzki (2006) understands practices as consisting of elements of both structure and action. Structure includes understandings of the “how to” of a practice, the rules, possible ends and goals as well as more general understandings. Action is about the carrying out of a practice in specific time-space contexts. The already existing practice structures that encompass organisations frame action possibilities. Practices are understood to be carried forward within the practice memory of an organisation (its organisational memory) together with workers enacting them (Schatzki, 2005, 2006; Schatzki et al., 2001). In enacting organisational practices, workers’ understandings of those practices (structure-action elements) become enmeshed with previous understandings of similar practices from other contexts – in this way practices are perpetuated and at the same time varied (Schatzki, 2006). For Schatzki (2006), learning is viewed as a crucial element in the perpetuation and change of organisational practices, but learning is discussed only briefly and relates closely to transfer of knowledge or know how. While the work of Schatzki and colleagues does not particularly focus on varieties of learning, the view of organisations as dynamic, where organisational practices persist and simultaneously change, can be re-presented to draw out different kinds of learning, and organisational practices as sites of individual and organisational learning can be usefully interrogated. From practice theory, and the work of Schatzki in particular, we take up the idea that workers co-construct organisational practices and create shared meaning and understandings of those practices. At SupplyCo the IDP, safety practices, had been

going through significant change; one key area of change was from what had been primarily a practice involving regular audits through standardised checklists carried out by managers “on” workers, to a practice of jointly negotiated discussions between managers and workers – sometimes initiated by workers themselves. The interviewees’ comments reconstructed the “old” practice in relation to the new safety observations thereby highlighting the ongoing structure elements, new actions and the mutual production of workers, the social context of work and the organisation itself. Put a different way, workers are learning the how-to, the contextual characteristics and interrelationships of practices. At the same time, organisational practices play a role in framing what is learned, how it is learned and by whom. In the following section, we outline the learning (in organisational practices) framework we employed to characterise learning IDPs in SupplyCo. Four pillars of learning: knowing, doing, being, and living together In 1996 Delors submitted a report from the International Commission on Education for the Twenty-first Century “Learning: the treasure within” to the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (Unesco). The concepts central to Delors’ report were four interrelated “pillars of education”: learning to know; learning to do; learning to be; and, learning to live together (Delors, 1996, p. 37). The teasing out and naming of different kinds of learning is always going to be problematic and open to criticism. However, Delors’ work opens up ways of thinking about learning that may be new to some including, we suggest, many who understand work as made up of knowing and doing. Further, the pillars’ framework is “easy to use and to apply flexibility in any context” (de Leo, 2006, p. 3). Indeed, for some, the appeal of mobilising the framework is because it is simple. The pillars cut across and extend traditional education and training (and learning) categories and understandings. Although the framework was developed to promote lifelong learning, for us it provides a helpful (and simple) heuristic for discussing workplace learning, one that enables a focus on a shift beyond the more traditional knowledge and skills focus associated with work. It is the inter-relatedness of the pillars that has been useful for us in our exploration of learning in relation to IDPs at SupplyCo. The first two pillars are very familiar in workplaces (learning to know and learning to do) whereas the latter two (learning to be and learning to live together) are usually discussed in relation to our lives more holistically. In a general sense, the idea of learning to know is about knowledge acquisition. It also refers to, “... learning to learn, so as to benefit from opportunities education provides throughout life” (Delors, 1996, p. 37). Learning to do helps people “acquire not only an occupational skill but also, more broadly, the competence to deal with many situations and work in teams” (Delors, 1996, p. 37). Learning to be is purported to “develop one’s personality and be able to act with even greater autonomy, judgement and personal responsibility” (Delors, 1996, p. 37). It recognises that learning takes place in a social context and that the concept of learners is culturally loaded, and notions of learning and being are not universally understood. More recently, education and learning have been acknowledged as sites of self-work and the concept of identity has become central to much of this discussion. Learning to live together is the fourth pillar with a focus on developing “an understanding of other people and an appreciation of interdependence – carrying out

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joint projects and learning to manage conflicts – in a spirit of respect for the values of pluralism, mutual understanding and peace” (Delors, 1996, p. 37). In our research we have adapted Delors” pillars to relate specifically to the workplace context. At SupplyCo workers were “learning to know” about the industry, about the organisation, about electricity supply, about safety, and about a range of other “things”. The second pillar, “learning to do” was evidenced in a variety of ways too: learning to do particular tasks such as how to climb a pole; how to behave in meetings, what to do at the depot, etc. For the most part, there was nothing especially new in this regard. We suspected that managers and workers already knew that everyone gained skills and knowledge as part of their everyday work. However, it was the third and fourth pillars (learning to be and learning to live together), and their inter-relatedness with the former two, that provided new ways of thinking about organisational practices. These pillars drew attention to how workers were “learning to become” a lineworker, a project officer, an operations manager, responsible and accountable employees, a safe SupplyCo worker and more. Further, we were also able to draw attention to how SupplyCo workers were “learning to be together” by appreciating the diversity in others’ perspectives, and of others’ roles within the organisation, communicating with a wide range of colleagues, and so on. In our exploration of interviewees’ descriptions of the IDP, safety practices, we have been able to draw out and comment on the learning that we suggest is going on involving one or a combination of the pillars. This is perhaps important in workplaces such as SupplyCo where the focus has traditionally been on skills and knowledge acquisition. Thus, for example, we were able to describe how safety practices not only increased workers’ skills and knowledge, but also how people were learning to be different kinds of SupplyCo workers as well as learning to work together in and across work teams/areas. Safety practices at SupplyCo The main IDPs we found at SupplyCo were performance appraisal, projects, acting up and safety. While all these practices were explored, safety practices caught our attention and became a key focus in this case study. Safety notices were posted on almost every surface of the organisation, demonstrating that safety was integral to the work, and to the workers. Handling electricity is hazardous and appropriate measures need to be taken, however the attention to safety at SupplyCo permeated beyond legislative and policy compliance. Attention to safety was embedded in cultural, operational and detailed understandings of safety and safety practices throughout the organisation. For example, safety is experienced and deployed by SupplyCo through mandated work activities, employee forums/discussions, processes, performance indicators, and through the completion of forms and other written procedures. First, through mandated work practices, many employees are required to perform hazard and risk assessments, and safety audits and observations. Second, SupplyCo holds forums for training and discussion and they have instituted special safety days. Third, processes, such as the activities and conversations involved in hazard and risk assessments, and safety audits and observations, also acted as a means of embedding safety within the organisation. Fourth, performance indicators such as lost time frequency rate that specifies targets compound safe organisational performance. Finally, an array of

documents records the results of hazard and risk assessments, and safety audits and observations, which can be used to further improve awareness, compliance and performance. Attention to safety is not only an aspiration of management, it is also heard in formal interviews with SupplyCo employees, in our informal discussions, during meetings, as well as during social gatherings. Indeed, safety matters to the people in this organisation as much as it matters to the organisation itself – as one employee told us: It’s a sign of the times . . . I don’t think they want you to get hurt . . . and it’s in your face all the time.

A distinctive component of safety practices at SupplyCo are safety observations which occur on almost a daily basis. The ways in which safety observations are carried out, who is involved, and how they are approached and viewed by SupplyCo workers, have undergone significant changes in recent times. In the following section we focus on safety observations, examining how interviewees talked about them. Safety observations One worker describes safety observations as: [We] go out and observe our teams and just go through what they’re doing. The leading hand inducts us on to the site and tells us who the site co-ordinator is and if there are any isolations. We go through the permits and whatever you’ve got to sign on, the hazard risk assessments, they take us all through that. Then we just observe how they’re working.

This way of enacting safety observations is relatively new and constitutes a notable departure from the already existing safety audits. Where safety audits had operated for many years as a compliance measure to “catch out” unsafe behaviour of workers and unsafe equipment, safety observations foreground social relationships and emphasise teamwork and shared commitment. In the interview extract above the team leader’s comments demonstrate informality, valuing of the workers’ contributions and a lack of, or at least understated hierarchical roles. Even the re-naming from “audits” to “observations” suggests changes in purposes and relationships. The following comments draw out some of the changes to safety practices, particularly the shift from a context of disciplining (us and them) to one of mutual involvement and respect (us together): In previous days we’ve done audits and we write up the audit and tell them what they’ve done wrong, and it’s all the negative stuff. In an audit, you can have a non-conformance and tell somebody they have to fix something up and whatever. You can do a similar thing in an observation, but generally what you try and do is first go in and praise a person for all the right things they’re doing, and suggest to them “Oh do you think that might have been a better way to do it”? and see their comment, and also ask them if they’ve got any ways that they think, you know, safety could have been improved.

The two workers quoted above connect the past safety practice of audits with the present safety practice of observations. The second comment, in particular, demonstrates how the new observations still include some aspects of the past audits. In other words, following Schatzki, there is a recounting of “a” possible performance of safety observations where understanding and persistence of previous

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practices become enmeshed, shared and carried forward with new understandings producing changes to safety practices. The doings and sayings (embedding knowledge) are becoming part of the organisational practice memory comprising what safety practices mean at SupplyCo. Another employee also alludes to past audits in his description of observations as different in terms of being “softer”, and he emphasises the communicative and social relationships – “a good way of. . . meeting the teams and . . . talking to them.” At the same time he stresses the importance of safety practices in terms of collaborative commitment to achieve an important organisational effect: It’s a softer observational way. And, safety observations are a good way of also getting out and meeting the teams and you know, talking to them, and raising the awareness of safety, because of safety statistics, so, there’s a reason for it, there’s a driver for it, to remove, you know, to reduce the number of accidents, and that’s, everything we all have in our heart, we don’t want to have to go back and report to you know, someone’s family that they’ve injured themselves or they’ve died.

Whereas safety audits were strictly hierarchical in terms of who was doing the auditing and who was the audited, safety observations at SupplyCo cut across organisational hierarchies. The organisation is working towards having all employees carry out safety observations. The ways interviewees discursively constructed safety observations as collegial practices implicates an ongoing shift – Schatzki’s action possibilities – towards this goal. Rather than feeling threatened by safety observations, some SupplyCo workers welcomed them. The reason may be that they enabled discussions between workers from across the organisation. This, in turn, enabled workers to pick up information about aspects of SupplyCo – as one worker says: I believe if you talk about an issue, and . . . if something else isn’t in the back of your mind, you’ll bring it forward and have a chat about it, so it is making opportunities there . . . if a designer’s out there doing a safety observation and the guy doesn’t like something about design, he’ll certainly tell him then, whereas the guy, one would never have been out there [if] we weren’t doing safety observations and the two wouldn’t have a conversation if he did go out there with them. But now he’s having those conversations and he’s picking up information.

Picking up new information is part of a broader benefit of building relationships and finding opportunities to communicate beyond the immediate, task-oriented work. The new safety practice was sometimes even initiated by workers themselves: What I’ve found really good about it is the guys respond to it, the guys in the field. If you were doing an audit on them, they’d be like “Oh god, not another audit” but you walk up and they go “Are you doing a safety ob today?” and you’ll be going “I wasn’t going to” and they go “Well can I tell you something anyway?” and they’ll actually tell you things.

These extracts recounting people’s experiences of safety observations at SupplyCo demonstrate that this practice goes a long way beyond the organisational purposes of ensuring safety compliance. The statements describing how safety observations are enacted foreground their evolution from audits that had particular structure/action elements to ones where some of the structures were maintained, such as the overall ends and goals (fewer injuries and deaths) and some of the rules (e.g. concerning legislative compliance). It is these existing practice structures that persist and frame

the present and possible future safety practices. The extracts also situate safety observations as actions, that is, the carrying out of the practice in specific time-space contexts. In relation to safety observations, the extracts presented above demonstrate how workers understand the changes working and look towards future changes as well. If safety observations are practices that both persist and change already existing practices, then what can we say about the learning that might be going on and how and why is it okay to be learning and a learner? One partial answer could be that if organisations are always “happening”, and organisational practices are complex bundles of doings and sayings that change (Schatzki, 2006), then it should be okay to identify as learning. However, we want to be able to say more than this, and below we further analyse safety observations in terms of the inter-relationship of Delors’ four pillars of learning. Safety practices at SupplyCo are being enacted in ways that involve knowledge and skills while at the same time they foreground learning to be and learning to be together as important components of organisational practices. In each of the interview extracts above there is evidence of employees being new kinds of workers and working together in new ways – new communication and collaboration practices are being tried and learned. We heard that as part of the safety observations workers are asked “if they’ve got any ways that they think, you know, safety could have been improved”; that observations are “a good way of also getting out and meeting the teams and you know, talking to them,” and “if something else isn’t in the back of your mind, you’ll bring it forward and have a chat about it, so, it is making opportunities there”. Indeed, the bottom up nature of these learning to be and learning to be together practices is demonstrated by “you walk up and they go ‘Are you doing a safety obs today’? and you’ll be going ‘I wasn’t going to’ and they go ‘Well can I tell you something anyway?’ and they’ll actually tell you things”. The workers are not simply positioned as auditors and audited enacting safety observations that are concerned with performance or non-performance, they are learning new skills and knowledge and, importantly they are learning to relate in ways that construct different identities – ones that offer ideas and information as experts in their field, and ones that are more collegial and where communicating as a team becomes as much as what it means to be a SupplyCo worker as being a skilled linesperson. Notably, even though “learning” and “learner” are not named in the interview extracts cited above, notions of learning and being a learner sit comfortably with SupplyCo employees. There were more explicit discourses of learning and being a learner in interviewee comments. For example, both workers and managers found safety observations useful as learning reminders as well as opportunities to make change happen: Yeah it always just reinforces – like you just take things for granted but those things just refresh your memory and make you think about them for a while . . . It just makes you think. Like you do it anyway but you just think about it.

The learning culture is explicitly referred to and can be summed up in this final extract: Yeah, yeah, yeah. We go through an investigation process and work out the whys and what nots and what happened and how it happened and how we can improve things to make it not

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happen again. You know everyone’s learning and nobody wants to deliberately make mistakes. I think that’s the way you’ve got to manage it. Yeah you can be . . .you stupid bastard what did you do that for sort of thing.

Discussion and conclusion Safety practices, and safety observations in particular, unambiguously fulfilled the criteria for being understood as an IDP. Further, the unembarrassed and sometimes explicit way in which learning was considered at SupplyCo was a refreshing contrast to what we had observed in our earlier study. Safety observations had not only been adopted, they had been embraced by all we encountered at SupplyCo. Learning was embedded as an accepted part of a necessary function of the organisation, and the discourse of workers reflected this. This leads to the question of why is the discourse of learning taken up in one place but not another? Why was it not seen in an organisation in which learning was central to its mission, but was observed in an organisation whose mission was to deliver electricity? At the simplest level, this occurred because learning, at least learning safety practices, was accepted as a legitimate part of everyday work at SupplyCo. It was integrated and valued in everyday work practices. It was not regarded as alien, as something that occurs in formal settings or as requiring teachers or trainers or only articulated when managers were present. Workers accepted that they were in the business of learning safety – it had become part of the practice memory of the organisation. While the need to protect themselves provided a strong personal incentive, it is not always the case that safety practices can be readily accepted in very risky industries as Somerville and Lloyd’s (2006) studies of the mining industry dramatically testify. In the previous study organisation where the acceptance of a learning discourse at work was more problematic, learning was seen primarily as something that employees’ clients (students) were assisted to do, not as something that applied to themselves. Learning and learners were terms used very frequently, but in the context of what others did. Being a learner was not accepted as a legitimate position for a worker (as a teacher) as it made one vulnerable and not a full part of the workforce. It may be that proximity to learning as something serviced by the organisation inhibited take up of the discourse by workers. Enhancing students’ learning was the key purpose of the organisation, thus learning was embedded in the enactment of organisational practices. However, there was not an IDP that embedded employees’ learning; it was not part of the practice memory of the organisation. The four pillars of learning were embraced by management in SupplyCo as they resonated with their view of the organisation they were creating. These aspects of learning could be seen and integrated as part of their practice and the discourse of work. They recognised, when introduced to the idea, that learning to be and learning to live together were part of their enterprise. They understood before we arrived that they were promoting learning as an integrated part of work, and our language and explication enabled them to articulate this more fully. Of course, this study does not address the question of how an organisation is enabled to take up learning in this way. However, it does show that learning can be inserted successfully into organisational practices in ways that mean that it is okay to learn and be a learner at work.

References Bereiter, C. (1994), “Constructivism, socioculturalism and Popper’s world”, Educational Researcher, Vol. 23 No. 7, pp. 21-3. Boud, D. (2006), “Combining work and learning: the disturbing challenge of practice”, in Edwards, R., Gallacher, J. and Whittaker, S. (Eds), Learning Outside the Academy: International Research Perspectives on Lifelong Learning, Routledge, London, pp. 77-89. Boud, D. and Solomon, N. (2003), “‘I don’t think I am a learner’: acts of naming learners at work”, Journal of Workplace Learning, Vol. 15 Nos 7-8, pp. 326-31. Chappell, C., Scheeres, H., Boud, D. and Rooney, D. (2009), “Working out work: integrated development practices in organizations”, in Field, J., Gallacher, J. and Ingram, R. (Eds), Researching Transitions in Lifelong Learning, Routledge, London, pp. 175-88. de Leo, J. (2006), “Social and cultural perspectives of ESD: cultural diversity and intercultural understanding within ESD”, paper presented at Unesco Expert Meeting on Education for Sustainable Development (ESD): Reorienting education to address sustainability, NESCO APNIEVE Australia, Thailand, 1-3 May, 2006. Delors, J. (Chair) (1996), “Learning: the treasure within”, Report to Unesco of the International Commission on Education for the Twenty-First Century, Unesco Publishing, Paris. Ellstro¨m, P.E. (2001), “Integrating learning and work: problems and prospects”, Human Resource Development Quarterly, Vol. 12 No. 4, pp. 421-35. Engestro¨m, Y. (2001), “Expansive learning at work: toward an activity theoretical reconceptualization”, Journal of Education and Work, Vol. 14 No. 1, pp. 133-56. Fuller, A. and Unwin, L. (2002), “Developing pedagogies for the contemporary workplace”, in Evans, K., Hodkinson, P. and Unwin, L. (Eds), Working to Learn; Transforming Learning in the Workplace, Routledge, London, pp. 95-111. Gherardi, S. (2000), “Practice-based theorizing on learning and knowing in organizations”, Organization, Vol. 7 No. 2, pp. 211-23. Gherardi, S., Nicolini, D. and Odella, F. (1998), “Towards a social understanding of how people learn in organizations: the notion of situated curriculum”, Management Learning, Vol. 29 No. 3, pp. 273-97. Guile, D. and Griffiths, T. (2001), “Learning through work experience”, Journal of Education and Work, Vol. 14 No. 1, pp. 113-31. Hodkinson, P. (2004), “Research as a form of work: expertise, community and methodological objectivity”, British Educational Research Journal, Vol. 30 No. 1, pp. 10-26. Kemmis, S. (2005), “Knowing practice: searching for saliences”, Pedagogy, Culture and Society, Vol. 13 No. 3, pp. 391-426. Lave, J. and Wenger, E. (1991), Situated Learning; Legitimate Peripheral Participation, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Nicolini, D., Gherardi, S. and Yanow, D. (2003), “Introduction: Toward a practice-based view of knowing and learning in organizations”, in Nicolini, D., Gherardi, S. and Yanow, D. (Eds), Knowing in Organizations: A Practice-based Approach, M.E. Sharpe, Armonk, NY, pp. 3-31. Poell, R., Chivers, G. and Van der Krogt, F. (2000), “Learning network theory: organising the dynamic relationships between earning and work”, Management Learning, Vol. 31 No. 1, pp. 25-49. Saugstad, T. (2005), “Aristotle’s contribution to scholastic and non-scholastic learning theories”, Pedagogy, Culture and Society, Vol. 13 No. 3, pp. 347-66.

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Schatzki, T.R. (2005), “Peripheral vision: the sites of organizations”, Organization Studies, Vol. 26 No. 3, pp. 465-84. Schatzki, T.R. (2006), “On organizations as they happen”, Organization Studies, Vol. 27 No. 12, pp. 1863-73. Schatzki, T.R., Knorr Cetina, K. and von Savigny, E. (Eds) (2001), The Practice Turn in Contemporary Theory, Routledge, London and New York, NY. Senge, P.M. (1990), The Fifth Discipline: The Art and Practice of the Learning Organization, Doubleday, New York, NY. Skule, S. and Reichborn, A. (2002), Learning-Conducive Work: A Survey of Learning Conditions in Norwegian Workplaces, CEDEFOP, Luxembourg. Somerville, M. and Lloyd, A. (2006), “Codified knowledge and embodied learning: the problem of safety training”, Studies in Continuing Education, Vol. 28 No. 3, pp. 279-89. About the authors Hermine Scheeres is Associate Professor in the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, University of Technology, Sydney. She carries out research in the areas of workplace and organisational learning and organisational change using ethnographic and discourse analytic approaches. Hermine’s research and publications are cross-disciplinary spanning organisational studies, language and discourse, and adult learning. Hermine Scheeres is the corresponding author and can be contacted at: [email protected] Nicky Solomon is a Professor at the University of Technology, Sydney in the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences. Her main research work focuses on work and learning, in particular on the language and discourses of learning at work. Her most recent publication is for the Sage International Handbook of Workplace Learning. David Boud is Professor of Adult Education at the University of Technology, Sydney and Senior Fellow of the Australian Learning and Teaching Council. His research interests are in workplace learning, assessment for learning and research education. His most recent book (with Alison Lee and others) is Changing Practices of Doctoral Education (Routledge, London). Donna Rooney is an early career researcher and lecturer at the University of Technology, Sydney. Her main research interest focuses on learning beyond educational institutions including learning in workplaces and community settings.

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Practice-based innovation: a learning perspective

Practice-based innovation

Per-Erik Ellstro¨m HELIX VINN Excellence Centre, Linko¨ping University, Linko¨ping, Sweden

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Abstract Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to explore the idea of practice-based innovation and to propose a framework that can be used to conceptualize and analyze practice-based innovation processes in organizations. Design/methodology/approach – The argument is driven by conceptual analysis and theoretical synthesis based on theory and research on innovation, organizational change, individual and organizational learning. Findings – The proposed framework portrays practice-based innovation as a cyclical process of adaptive and developmental learning driven by contradictions and tensions between explicit and implicit dimensions of work processes. Originality/value – The paper adds to previous research through its focus on practice-based innovation and the conceptualization of this notion in terms of learning in and through everyday work. It thus creates connections between innovation research and research on workplace learning. Keywords Innovation, Workplace learning, Adaptability, Organizational change Paper type Research paper

1. Introduction In recent years, there has been a broadening of the view of the interplay between knowledge formation and innovations. While previously innovations were seen primarily as a function of investments in R&D and the dissemination of research-based knowledge, innovations are today also viewed as a function of the learning and knowledge creation that takes place in the production of goods and services in organizations (e.g. Edquist, 2005; Lam, 2005; Lorenz and Lundvall, 2006; Lundvall and Nielsen, 1999). An important implication of this broader view is the need to consider the workplace as a site for learning and not only as a production site. Although learning in this way has become a key concept in research on innovations and innovation processes, this research can be criticised for its lack of a problematisation of the learning concept(s) used – the term learning has largely become a “black box” (Miettinen, 2002). Innovation research has also mainly focused on formal learning rather than informal learning and on the supply side – the education system – rather than the demand side, i.e. the companies and organizations where the knowledge is to be used, but where knowledge and expertise are also developed as a result of the employees’ learning in the course of their everyday work. In addition, there is often a far too narrow interpretation of the learning concept that focuses on the subjective side of learning and knowledge, and a correspondingly weaker focus on the fact that learning may also produce objective results in the form of new ideas, knowledge or models that can be articulated and codified (e.g. Zollo and Winter, 2002). How, then, can a workplace be understood as a site for learning and innovation? What is the role of learning in innovation processes? The purpose of this paper is to approach these questions by proposing a framework that can be used to conceptualize

Journal of Workplace Learning Vol. 22 No. 1/2, 2010 pp. 27-40 q Emerald Group Publishing Limited 1366-5626 DOI 10.1108/13665621011012834

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and analyze practice-based innovation processes in organizations. In using the notion of practice-based innovation, I am suggesting a concept that aims to reflect the broader view of the relations between innovation and learning indicated above. As used here, practice-based innovation refers to the employees’ or the managements’ renewal of their own operations in some respect – for example by the development and use of new working methods, routines, products or services – where this renewal is based on learning in and through work processes within the operations concerned. Thus, this definition focuses on workplace learning as a fundamental mechanism behind practice-based innovation processes. It is necessary to make two other points clear from the start. The basis for the discussion in this paper is intra- rather than inter-organizational, in the sense that the focus is largely on the workplace. This focus may be seen as a limitation given the emphasis on networks and learning in interplay with other organizations that often forms part of an innovation system approach (Edquist, 1997; Lundvall, 1992). However, this seems to be mainly the case with regard to so-called product innovations, i.e. innovations relating to goods and/or services (see section 2 below). The main focus in this paper is instead on process innovations, i.e. innovations that relate to production processes, working methods and work organization. As argued by Hommen (2000), process innovations stem from intra-organizational learning processes to a greater degree than product innovations. However, the interplay between, and the relative importance of, intra- and inter-organizational learning processes lie outside the scope of this paper. Furthermore, this paper has its focus on innovation processes, i.e. processes that result in an innovation, rather than on the innovation itself. 2. Innovations and innovation processes What is meant by the concept of innovation as used here? Central to many definitions of this concept are the criteria that an innovation relates to some form of specific change that is new (at least locally) and that leads to what is in some sense a better accomplishment of goals at the system level (the local unit or the larger organization/system of which it is a part). The goals do not necessarily have to be financial or production-oriented in nature but may relate to other values that we want to achieve by means of certain operations, for example meeting the needs for healthcare, care or education. These or similar criteria recur in both earlier and more recent definitions. An early example is the definition proposed by the educational researcher Matthew Miles (1964). According to this definition, an innovation is: A deliberate, novel, specific change, which is thought to be more efficacious in accomplishing the goals of a system (Miles, 1964; p. 14).

This definition, which was proposed more than forty years ago, seems in many ways still relevant today. Let us first consider the requirement of novelty. This gives rise to the classic question: new for who? Do we mean new for the user in a local context, new for a certain industry or sector, or new for the world? It appears to be quite common in the field of innovation research to accept a “low innovation ceiling”, i.e. to accept something as an innovation if it is perceived as new in the local context in which it is developed or implemented, even though its novelty may be more limited in a wider context (Miles, 1964; Pettigrew and Fenton, 2000). However, such “local innovations” are not mechanical applications or simple copies of a more general idea or innovation. In fact, it is difficult to draw a clear line between imitation and innovation. What may

appear to be an imitation often entails a reinterpretation or new interpretation involving more or less innovative elements (Sevo´n, 1996). This is in line with the view that innovations are based on new combinations of elements that are already well known, and perhaps also applied, but that have not previously been linked together – at least not in the local context (Pettigrew and Fenton, 2000; Schumpeter, 1980). This latter argument leads us to the distinction between gradual (incremental) and radical innovations (Edquist et al., 2001). In the former case, the focus is on changes that entail refinements or improvements, although without accomplishing anything that is completely and fundamentally new. In the case of radical innovations, the focus is instead on changes that represents something totally “new” and that thus also entails a break with established views, knowledge or technology. According to many definitions, there is also the requirement that before something is accepted as an innovation it must be possible to demonstrate that it contributes to the accomplishment of the goals of an organization (or system). This requirement is reasonable in the later stages of an innovation process, but hardly in the early stages. One way of handling this is to differentiate between potential and actual innovations. A potential innovation entails a proposed change that is in some sense new. However, it has not yet been demonstrated that this change will be able to contribute to the accomplishment of the goals of the system (or be of importance to a group or operation in some other way), and it cannot therefore be legitimised in terms of results or its importance to others. An actual innovation is an innovation whose importance (as a contribution to goal accomplishment or in some other way) it has been possible to demonstrate, or which has for other reasons achieved a certain degree of acceptance and legitimacy and, as a consequence, a certain degree of dissemination and use. Thus, what constitutes an actual innovation – rather than a creative idea, invention or discovery – can only be determined on the basis of its practical application and use. So far, we have discussed innovations as changes in quite general terms. In the definition by Miles (1964) cited above, innovations can relate to more or less any aspect of an operation. But what type of changes are we talking about more specifically? An often used framework is based on the distinction between product and process innovations (Edquist et al., 2001). While product innovations relate to new goods or services, process innovations relate to new ways of producing existing goods and services. The process innovations category may in turn be divided into technical and organizational innovations. Technical process innovations include new material goods (e.g. machinery, IT equipment) that come into use in a certain production process. Organizational process innovations relate instead to new ways of organizing a certain work process (e.g. a new work organization or a new working method). Although this division is not precise and, as pointed out by Edquist et al. (2001) is far from unequivocal, it is usable in many contexts. When we speak about innovations below, our focus, in terms of this division, is on process innovations rather than product innovations, and on organizational rather than technical process innovations. 3. Two dimensions of work processes The concept of work process is central to the discussion in this paper. As defined here, it comes close to the concept of routine as used in organizational theory (e.g. Feldman, 2000; Feldman and Pentland, 2003; Miner, 1991). In general terms (to be elaborated below), a work process is defined as: a set of recurrent actions that are performed – with or without the help of tools or machines – to handle a certain task and thus to

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achieve a certain result. The task may of course relate to a number of different types of work objects ranging from abstract symbol systems to various types of material objects or technical systems or, for example, to other people who are to be educated or cared for. Let us take as an example organized care services for elderly people. In order to perform this task with good results for the clients (the elderly), a number of healthcare and care activities are conducted by the care workers, for example, administering medicine, helping with personal hygiene, cleaning and so on (Ellstro¨m et al., 2008). This example underlines two other important aspects of a work process: it comprises a pattern of interdependent actions and it involves a number of actors (see Feldman and Pentland, 2003). From these starting-points we can now differentiate between two dimensions of a work process: the explicit and the implicit dimension. The explicit dimension concerns how the work process is formally codified, prescribed and organised (e.g. in written instructions). The implicit dimension concerns how the work process is perceived by different actors, co-ordinated and performed in practice. This distinction is in many respects related to the distinction made by Feldman and Pentland (2003), based on Latour (1986), between the ostensive aspect and the performative aspect of an organizational routine. Connecting to research on organizational learning, the distinction proposed here is also in certain respects parallel to Argyris and Scho¨n’s (1978) well-known distinction between “the espoused theory” and “the theory in use”. Another related distinction is that made by Brown and Duguid (1991) between the prescribed practice of doing something – the canonical practice – versus how the work is actually performed – the non-canonical practice. Like these distinctions, the distinction made here is ideal typic in character. In the everyday work in an organization, the explicit and the implicit dimension are interwoven and both are necessary to constitute a work process. However, in practice it is common to overestimate the importance and impact of the formally prescribed work process (the explicit dimension), while the actual performance of a task (the implicit dimension) is not made visible and given recognition (see Brown and Duguid, 1991; Feldman and Pentland, 2003). Below, we will examine more closely the meaning of the two dimensions of work and how they are assumed to be related to each other. The explicit work process This dimension concerns the formal, officially prescribed work process as it is expressed, for example, in job descriptions, standards or policy documents, i.e. the work process as an abstract idea (an “espoused theory” in the terminology of Argyris and Scho¨n, 1978). The explicit dimension is therefore also a part of the formal structure of the organization. The explicit work process is more or less strongly based on codified knowledge concerning what should be done, and how, in order to complete a certain task successfully, and it can therefore be seen as an expression of – at a specific point in time – prevailing notions, ideas, and available research-based knowledge within a certain field of practice. The work process is consequently often described in rational terms with an emphasis on goal-oriented, technical-instrumental action on the basis of conscious planning and calculated strategies (Brown and Duguid, 1991). The prescribed work process may be more or less detailed and explicit in terms of what should be achieved (goals) and how (methods), and thus provide varying degrees of autonomy (degrees of freedom) in terms of performance. One way of understanding the creation of an explicit work process is to view it as a result of collective, experience-based learning (Barley and Tolbert, 1997), in the sense

that job descriptions and prescribed procedures can be seen as experience-based modifications and further developments of procedures that applied earlier. It is of course reasonable to assume that such processes of learning are constrained or enabled by (micro-) political and institutional factors. The learning process is likely to be the result of complex interactions between organizational actors representing different ideas and interests. In line with a neo-institutional perspective, this process is also likely to be exposed to pressures from different – and maybe contradictory – institutional environments to adopt “new” ideas, standards, routines or solutions (Brunsson and Jacobsson, 2000; Czarniawska and Sevo´n, 1996; Meyer and Rowan, 1977). This is assumed to take place not least in order to gain and maintain acceptance and legitimacy for changes in the formal structure. Of course, interactions between a number of different actors also mean that there will be multiple interpretations of the formal prescriptions and instructions, and that one should expect more or less open conflicts and negotiations between the actors involved (Feldman and Pentland, 2003). The implicit work process This dimension concerns how a work process is perceived and performed in practice, in contrast to how it is intended to be performed according to official standards, policies etc. It refers to specific thoughts and actions carried out by specific people, in specific places and at specific times (Feldman and Pentland, 2003). This comprises partly a subjective aspect, i.e. how the work process is perceived, interpreted and understood by different actors, and partly an action aspect (Hackman, 1969). Both of these aspects are likely to vary depending on contextual and individual factors. The latter include, for example, individual background factors, knowledge, values, attitudes to work, emotional and personality-related factors. The contextual factors are linked to working conditions in a broad sense and the way in which these conditions constrain and enable individual and collective actions. Of course, the implicit work process is also to a large extent an outcome of the scope of action available to different actors, which in turn is related to the actors’ position and role in the organization and, thereby, to their authority and power. If we examine the relations between the explicit and the implicit work processes there are often, as revealed by previous research, significant differences between how an operation appears from the point of view of these two dimensions (Brunsson and Jacobsson, 2000; Meyer and Rowan, 1977). The implicit work process, i.e. how the work process/task is perceived and performed, has a relative autonomy in relation to formal structures and prescribed processes and tasks (Bourdieu, 1990). This relative autonomy is expressed in the form of improvisations and deviations in relation to the formally prescribed performance of a certain task. Prescribed tasks and processes may be forgotten or are reinterpreted more or less consciously. There is often a considerable variation – between different performers of the same task – but also in the way the task is carried out by the same actor over time. Furthermore, there is typically a considerable creativity and an ability to improvise when it comes to finding solutions to unexpected problems that arise (Brown and Duguid, 1991; Feldman and Pentland, 2003; Miner et al., 2001). However, a number of studies show that this creativity mainly occurs unofficially and implicitly – as a part of what happens “behind the scenes” – and it is therefore not highlighted or paid attention to in official job descriptions, i.e. in what has here been called the explicit dimension (Barley and Kunda, 2001; Ellstro¨m, 2006a; Gustavsson, 2007; Hirschhorn, 1984).

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4. Practice-based innovation as a cyclical process of learning A basic assumption made here is that the interface and the interplay between the explicit and implicit dimensions of work may be driving forces for learning and innovation processes. The underlying idea is that tensions and contradictions between work processes as officially prescribed (the explicit dimension) and as perceived and performed in practice (the implicit dimension) create potentials for learning and practice-based innovations in an organization. In order to explore this assumption it is necessary to examine the interplay between the explicit and implicit dimensions of work more closely. With theoretical inspiration from, in particular, research on organizational learning (e.g. March, 1991), critical realist theory on social change, structure and agency (e.g. Archer, 1995) and evolutionary theory of knowledge creation (e.g. Campbell, 1960), the interplay between the two dimensions can be portrayed as a cyclical process of reproduction and transformation. These two processes are interpreted and modelled in terms of two complementary organizational logics called: the logic of production and the logic of development that will be discussed below (see Ellstro¨m, 2006a). The distinction between these two logics is made here on analytical grounds. In practice, however, the two logics are more or less integrated and can, as is illustrated in Figure 1 below, be seen as complementary aspects of an innovation process. Now, considering a complete cycle of learning and innovation as illustrated in Figure 1, it may, in idealized terms, start with the implementation and mastery of a certain procedure or task in accordance with the logic of production, continue with a more or less routinized performance of this procedure/task for some time, interrupted by disturbances or problems that trigger questioning, unlearning (Hedberg, 1981), and eventually the development of new ways of understanding and handling the task or problem at hand. The logic of production This logic focuses on how the explicit work process is reproduced and realized in actual practice. Thus, it covers activities that aim to implement and maintain the officially prescribed work processes/tasks in practical action, i.e. to realise the ideas and expectations that lie behind the explicit dimension of a work process. In line with this orientation, the logic of production puts a strong emphasis on goal consensus, standardization, stability and the avoidance of uncertainty. In several respects, this

Figure 1. Practice-based innovation as a cyclical process of learning

logic comes close to what March (1991) refers to as processes of exploitation in organizational learning, characterized by a focus on refinement, production, efficiency, and execution. However, there are also strong affinities with Tayloristic principles of production (Braverman, 1974), and at a more abstract level also with the principle of performativity as proclaimed by Lyotard (1984). The move from an abstract idea to practical action is understood here as a process of adaptive or reproductive learning (Ellstro¨m, 2001, 2006b). In general terms, this mode of learning has a focus on establishing and maintaining well learned and routinized action patterns. Instances of adaptive learning are easy to find in working life, including for example the mastering of new tasks or situations, or learning to follow certain instructions. Adaptive learning is central also to the socialisation of individuals to an organization. The focus then concerns to what extent the people in an organization are acquiring “the code”, and thus learning how one “should” or “must” think and act in different situations. A basic condition of adaptive (reproductive) learning is to reduce variation – within and between individuals – regarding the perception and performance of a task. In line with this, the decisive criterion for successful adaptive learning is that the task concerned can be performed rapidly and with a low percentage of error (Argote, 1999; Argyris and Scho¨n, 1978; March, 1991). In practice, measures to reduce variation in the performance of a task may include formalization through written rules and instructions, limited autonomy and the formulation of clearly specified tasks and goals. Adaptive learning (like other forms of learning) does not take place easily, however. The literature is full of examples of cases where the implementation of prescribed working methods, procedures or policies has “failed” (implementation failures). At the same time, what on the surface appears to be a “successful” implementation may, on closer examination, prove to be a “pro forma” adaptation to stipulated work processes, i.e. learning has taken place in the sense that people have picked up the prescribed way of perceiving and speaking (rhetorical learning), but they have not appropriated the prescribed work process in practice (Wertsch, 1998). One way of interpreting this kind of “learning failure” is as a form of resistance and as an expression of conflicts of interest between, for example, managers and employees. Thus, a “failure” of implementation and adaptive learning from a management perspective might be understood as a “success” from an employee perspective (e.g. it may mean a gain in autonomy or reduced work intensity). This example illustrates how issues of learning and, in this case, implementation are closely interwoven with issues about perspectives and interests in an organization. The example also mirrors an inbuilt duality in the concept of adaptive learning. In one sense adaptive learning is about learning to handle certain tasks or to master the norms, practices and routines in an organization. In another sense adaptive learning is about the learning and reproduction of a prescribed order (e.g. a new policy or procedure) and, thereby, a mechanism of power and managerial control. The logic of development Similar to what March (1991) refers to as processes of exploration, the logic of development has a focus on practice as a source of new thinking and knowledge development, for example on promoting renewal in ways of defining and carrying out an activity. It is assumed that this renewal will be based on the variation that always exists in the performance of work, i.e. in the implicit dimension of a work process. It is further assumed that this variation may lead to discoveries, ideas and new actions that under certain conditions can transform the work process as expressed in the

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organization’s formal structure (the explicit work process) and, at a later stage, also in how the work process is performed in practice. In terms of learning, this logic presupposes what I elsewhere have called developmental learning (Ellstro¨m, 2001, 2006a, b). This means that there is a strong emphasis on the subjects’ capacity for self-management and their preparedness to question, reflect on and, if necessary, transform established practices in the organization into new solutions or ways of working (see Dewey, 1933; Engestro¨m, 1999). The logic of development, interpreted thus, entails action and learning that calls for risk-taking and a capacity for critical reflection, together with sufficient scope and resources for experimenting with and testing alternative ways of acting in different situations. In this view, conflicts and ambiguity are not potential threats to learning or to efficient performance, but rather potentials for triggering developmental learning processes. Contrary to the logic of production, the logic of development has a focus not on reducing variation and attaining homogeneity, but, rather, a focus on exploring variation and diversity in thought and action. Thus, variation in the understanding of problems and their solution is assumed to create scope for innovative recombinations (see Campbell, 1960; Schumpeter, 1980). The distinction made here between the two organizational logics of production and development entails a distinction between adaptive and developmental learning. However, as argued elsewhere (Ellstro¨m, 2006a), drawing a strict line of demarcation between these two modes of learning is neither possible nor desirable. The routinization of action through adaptive learning is an important way to learn to handle the daily flow of events, problem situations and contradictory demands, and at the same time maintain a feeling of security and stability (Klein et al., 1993). The problem, however, is that excessive routinization tends to place blinkers on us, which may impede our ability to identify and manage change. We may reinterpret and, by the same token, ignore or misinterpret changes in our surroundings, so as to maintain stability (Gersick and Hackman, 1990). At the same time, routinized action can relieve the cognitive load on individuals and free mental resources for other purposes. In this sense, routinization can be viewed as a precondition for generating the freedom and variation of action that we associate with creativity and developmental learning. Thus, adaptive and developmental learning are in this respect as well as in some other respects complementary. Driving forces and barriers for practice-based innovations What, then, are the driving forces for breaking with the “status quo” and the maintenance of established working methods (routines), and thereby to challenge the security that follows with well-learned, routinized actions. It often seems that it is only in the face of a new, perhaps crisis situation or turning point that we begin to question and become ready to change established patterns of thought and action (Barley and Tolbert, 1997). Previous research indicates a number of such possible turning points (Gersick and Hackman, 1990), for example when individuals, groups or organizations are faced with a situation that they have never met before. There are also a number of other factors that may lead us to abandon a routine. An established working method may lead to a failure in some respect. It may also be that we reach a natural turning point, a milestone, or that we are met by demands for changes. Examples of such demands would include rapid technical development, increased quality requirements, or changing demands from customers or clients, colleagues or management (e.g. Lundvall and Nielsen, 1999).

At the same time, it seems to be the case that a strong transformation pressure may be a necessary, but hardly a sufficient, precondition for departing from established routines and for the initiation of developmental learning. Changes that are either too big or too small both tend, for different reasons, to result in avoidance. It is, for example, a well-known phenomenon that in crises or situations we perceive as threatening we tend to fall back on habitual routines. Evidently, it is often not enough to see learning and change as a result of a “departure” from habitual patterns of thought and action. Various types of support and resources for learning are also required (Ellstro¨m, 2006a; Svensson and Nilsson, 2008). As shown by Miner et al. (2001), a variation in the performance of a work process may be planned or unplanned. In both cases, this variation can create potentials for developmental learning (Ellstro¨m, 2001; Gustavsson, 2007). In the former case, there are potentials for experimental learning where we can “off-line” study the variations that occur in the performance of a work process and investigate the consequences of different working methods (action alternatives). In the latter case, there are potentials for learning based on improvisations (“improvisational learning”) to handle unexpected problems and events, or for learning by means of “spontaneous experiments”. A common feature of the three forms of learning identified by Miner et al. (2001) is that they are based on the discovery and development of new action alternatives stemming from an exploration of the variation that arises in the performance of a work process. A developmental learning process can be viewed over shorter or longer periods of time. It may be a question of immediate improvisation or of a more extended process in which various action alternatives are developed and tested. The learning process may be more or less conscious and planned. Rapid improvisation often takes place in an unplanned and ad hoc way, while experimental learning entails and presupposes planning. As show by Miner et al. (2001) the results of improvisations or other forms of developmental learning “on-line” are often forgotten and thus leave no identifiable traces in the ongoing operations. This may of course be because the solutions found were deficient and deserved to be forgotten, but it may also apply to solutions that were in some sense successful and that therefore deserved not only to survive in the operations concerned but also to become established and be disseminated within and outside these operations. In relation to this type of what we might call incomplete innovation processes there are a number of different barriers that may block progress towards a more complete learning and innovation process. These barriers can be related to subjective factors (e.g. competence, identity, self-confidence), organizational processes (e.g. participation, leadership, power, authority), cultural factors (e.g. openness, trust) or structural conditions (e.g. the division of labour, reward and remuneration systems) (Ellstro¨m, 2006a; Nordhaug, 1994). Practice-based innovation – a balancing act between two organizational logics The model proposed above and illustrated in Figure 1 is primarily intended to be used as a tool for describing and analyzing learning and innovation processes in organizations rather than as a normative model. Of course, this distinction is far from easy to make. Most analytical models can have normative implications, while most normative models can be used as a starting point for analysis. In fact, there are a number of normative models of learning and innovation processes that have also been used for analytical purposes (e.g. Dewey, 1933; Engestro¨m, 1999; Weick and Quinn, 1999).

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According to these models, as well as the model presented above, the learning and innovation process begins with questioning, a disturbance or the emergence of a problematic situation in the conduct of a task or in the interplay with other people. This leads to routinized patterns of thought and action being broken and a search for new ways of dealing with the disturbance or the problematic situation at hand. As argued by Lam (2005), innovations may be viewed as the result of learning and knowledge creation through which new problems are defined and new knowledge is developed to solve them. A similar view of innovations follows from the variation-selection-retention model (Campbell, 1960) as applied by, for example, Zollo and Winter (2002). In line with this latter view, variation in ideas or solutions for defining and handling problems is considered here as a key factor for promoting developmental learning and practice-based innovations. Variation in the conduct of work is assumed to occur not least because the implementation (and reproduction) of the formal, explicit work process is always and necessarily (more or less) incomplete (Feldman and Pentland, 2003). Other possible sources of variation in carrying out a task may be that the work process and its contextual conditions are perceived and understood differently by the same individual over time, by different individuals at the same time, or that the contextual conditions under which the work process is performed change over time and thus require a changed and varied performance. As argued by Norros (1995), deviations or disturbances in a work process represent opportunities for the redesign and thus renewal of the process as originally designed and implemented. Thus, incomplete implementation of a work process as formally prescribed creates scope for autonomy and variation and, thereby, also for developmental learning and renewal. Empirical support for this idea is provided in a study of learning in project groups by McGrath (2001). This study included measures of the project groups’ autonomy in relation to work performance. As indicated by the results, a high degree of autonomy is likely to promote developmental (exploratory) learning. However, the degree of autonomy in performing a task is a necessary but not sufficient precondition for developmental learning. In addition, as discussed extensively elsewhere (e.g. Ellstro¨m, 2001, 2006a), individuals or groups must have the subjective capacity required to make use of the autonomy afforded by their jobs. This in turn is related to, for example, previous experience with similar tasks, the individual’s knowledge and understanding of the task at hand, self-confidence and occupational identity. As an umbrella term, these factors may be referred to as subjective learning resources (Ellstro¨m, 2001). An important implication of this is the need to balance the logic of production with its focus on reproduction and reduction of variation and the logic of development with its emphasis on variation and transformation. The interplay between and the relative strength of the two logics in the daily flow of practice are assumed to determine the available scope for both adaptive and developmental learning. Thus, depending on how we, intendedly or unintendedly, shape the workplace as a learning environment we are likely to affect the scope for practice-based innovations. A too strong emphasis on the logic of production means that issues of implementation, routinization and efficiency are likely to predominate over those of idea development and transformation. Vice versa, a too strong emphasis on the logic of development would entail a risk that issues of creativity and renewal drive out concerns related to the efficiency and stability of current practices (see also Ellstro¨m, 2006a; March, 1991).

5. Concluding remarks The purpose of this paper has been to propose a conceptual framework that can be used to conceptualize and analyze practice-based innovation processes in organizations. Specifically, it has been argued that practice-based innovations can arise as a result of the interplay between, on the one hand, officially prescribed work processes – the explicit dimension – and, on the other hand, the work process as it is performed in practice with a considerable element of variation and improvisation. It is further assumed that the interplay between these two operational dimensions takes place in accordance with two complementary processes or logics. On the one hand, the logic of production with an emphasis on the mastering and reproduction of prescribed work processes and, on the other hand, the logic of development with a main focus on exploration and re-conceptualisation (reconstruction) of the operations that are performed in practice. Considered in a more general perspective, the model introduced in this paper can also be used as a framework for analyzing the relations between individual and organizational learning. As argued elsewhere (Ellstro¨m, 2001), organizational learning can be defined as changes in organizational practices (including routines and procedures, structures, systems, technologies etc.) that are mediated through individual learning and knowledge creation. The model proposed here can be used to interpret and analyze this process of mediation, i.e. how individual learning in the performance of a work process may be translated into organizational learning manifested as changes in the explicit dimension of a work process. Furthermore, this model may also contribute to our understanding of the distinction between planned (episodic) and ongoing (continuous) change as addressed by a number of authors (e.g. Feldman and Pentland, 2003; Tsoukas and Chia, 2002; Weick and Quinn, 1999). While theories about planned change have generally been rationalistic in nature and have emphasised change as the result of planning, decision-making and intervention, the view of change as an ongoing process in organizations has rather emphasised change as a result of the way people solve problems and learn in the course of their everyday lives. The apparent contradiction between these two views can, however, be resolved in the light of the arguments presented in this paper. Instead of a contradictory relationship, the model introduced here emphasizes the complementarity between planned (episodic) and ongoing change. On the one hand, the implicit dimension of a work process is changed constantly by the variations and modifications in performance that arise in response to unforeseen events, disruptions and problems. Thus, there are actually processes of ongoing change in most operations. At the same time, there are also recurring attempts to shape the implicit work processes by means of change initiatives, reforms or programmes “from above” or “from the outside”. Such interventions entail attempts, by various means, to implement structures, programmes or regulatory systems that have been designed in advance by, for example, managers and consultants. This has also been the traditional way of understanding planned (episodic) change. However, the model proposed in this paper emphasises the need to view planned change as a process that is founded also on changes “from below”, i.e. changes in the way work processes are actually carried out. Under certain conditions, ideas from an operation’s implicit dimension could then be externalised (articulated and codified) and become a recognised part of the operation’s explicit formal structure. Developing support for practice-based innovations can thus be seen as an alternative to the traditional “top-down model” of understanding and managing change in organizations.

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Gersick, C.J.G. and Hackman, J.R. (1990), “Habitual routines in task-performing groups”, Organizational Behavior and Human Decision Processes, Vol. 47, pp. 65-97. Gustavsson, M. (2007), “Potentials for learning in industrial work”, Journal of Workplace Learning, Vol. 19 No. 7, pp. 453-63. Hackman, R.J. (1969), “Toward understanding the role of tasks in behavioral research”, Acta Psychologica, Vol. 31, pp. 97-128. Hedberg, B.L.T. (1981), “How organizations learn and unlearn”, in Nystrom, P.C. and Starbuck, W.H. (Eds), Handbook of Organizational Design, Vol. 1, Oxford University Press, New York, NY, pp. 3-27. Hirschhorn, L. (1984), Beyond Mechanization: Work and Technology in a Postindustrial Age, The MIT Press, Cambridge, MA. Hommen, L. (2000), “Innovation and qualification: institutional challenges”, working paper, Tema T, Linko¨ping University, Linko¨ping. Klein, G.A., Orasanu, J., Calderwood, R. and Zsambok, C. (Eds) (1993), Decision Making in Action: Models and Methods, Ablex Publ. Co, Norwood, NJ. Lam, A. (2005), “Organizational innovation”, in Fagerberg, J., Mowery, D.C. and Nelson, R.R. (Eds), The Oxford Handbook of Innovation, Oxford University Press, Oxford, pp. 115-47. Latour, B. (1986), “The powers of association”, in Law, J. (Ed.), Power, Action and Belief, Routledge & Kegan Paul, London, pp. 264-80. Lorenz, E. and Lundvall, B.-A. (Eds) (2006), How Europe’s Economies Learn. Coordinating Competing Models, Oxford University Press, Oxford. ˚ . (Ed.) (1992), National Systems of Innovation: Towards a Theory of Innovation Lundvall, B.-A and Interactive Learning, Pinter Publishers, London. ˚ . and Nielsen, P. (1999), “Competition and transformation in the learning economy Lundvall, B.-A illustrated by the Danish case”, Revue d’Economie Industrielle, Vol. 88 No. 2, pp. 67-89. Lyotard, J.F. (1984), The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge, Manchester University Press, Manchester. McGrath, R.G. (2001), “Exploratory learning, innovative capacity, and managerial oversight”, Academy of Management Journal, Vol. 44 No. 1, pp. 118-31. March, J.G. (1991), “Exploration and exploitation in organizational learning”, Organization Science, Vol. 2 No. 1, pp. 71-87. Meyer, J.W. and Rowan, B. (1977), “Institutional organizations: formal structure as myth and ceremony”, American Journal of Sociology, Vol. 83, pp. 340-63. Miettinen, R. (2002), National Innovation System. Scientific Concept or Political Rhetoric?, Edita Publishing Ltd, Helsinki. Miles, M.B. (Ed.) (1964), Innovation in Education, Teachers College Press, Columbia University, New York, NY. Miner, A.S. (1991), “Organizational evolution and the social ecology of jobs”, American Sociological Review, Vol. 56, pp. 772-85. Miner, A.S., Bassoff, P. and Moorman, C. (2001), “Organizational improvisation and learning: a field study”, Administrative Science Quarterly, Vol. 46 No. 2, pp. 304-37. Nordhaug, O. (1994), “Structural learning barriers in organizations”, Scandinavian Journal of Educational Research, Vol. 38, pp. 299-315. Norros, L. (1995), “An orientation-based approach to expertise”, in Hoc, J.-M., Cacciabue, P.C. and Hollnagel, E. (Eds), Expertise and Technology: Cognition and Human-computer Interaction, Erlbaum, Hillsdale, NJ, pp. 141-64.

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Pettigrew, A.M. and Fenton, E.M. (Eds) (2000), The Innovating Organization, Sage Publications, London. Schumpeter, J.A. (1980), Theory of Economic Development. An Inquiry into Profits, Capital, Credit, Interest and the Business Cycle, Transaction Publishers, Somerset, NJ. Sevo´n, G. (1996), “Organizational imitation in identity transformation”, in Czarniawska, B. and Sevo´n, G. (Eds), Translating Organizational Change, Walter de Gruyter, Berlin, pp. 49-67. Svensson, L. and Nilsson, B. (Eds) (2008), Partnership as a Strategy for Social Innovation and Sustainable Change, Sante´rus Academic Press, Stockholm. Tsoukas, H. and Chia, R. (2002), “On organizational becoming: rethinking organizational change”, Organization Science, Vol. 13 No. 5, pp. 567-82. Weick, K.E. and Quinn, R.E. (1999), “Organizational development”, Annual Review of Psychology, Vol. 50, pp. 361-86. Wertsch, J.V. (1998), Mind as Action, Oxford University Press, Oxford. Zollo, M. and Winter, S.G. (2002), “Deliberate learning and the evolution of dynamic capabilities”, Organization Science, Vol. 13, pp. 339-44. Further reading Mintzberg, H. and Quinn, J.B. (1996), The Strategy Process, Prentice-Hall, Englewood Cliffs, NJ. About the author Per-Erik Ellstro¨m is Professor of Education at Linko¨ping University. He is also Director of HELIX VINN Excellence Centre at the same university – a multidisciplinary centre for research on mobility in relation to learning, health and innovation (www.liu.se/helix). His research interests include workplace learning, practice-based innovation, interactive research, leadership and organizational change. Per-Erik Ellstro¨m can be contacted at: [email protected]

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Learning and recognition in health and care work: an inter-subjective perspective Anne Liveng

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Roskilde University, Roskilde, Denmark Abstract Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to discuss the role of recognition in learning processes among female nurses, social and health care assistants and occupational therapists working with people with dementia and other age-related illnesses. Design/methodology/approach – The paper highlights the need to experience recognizing learning spaces among social and health care workers dealing with elderly care. Such learning spaces are crucial/imperative in order to come to terms with emotionally stressing experiences from daily work, and in order to be prepared for future challenges, such as new tasks or patients with a complex diagnosis. Drawing on Nordic research into health and care work, it is argued that, particularly in work fields which are mentally loaded or which are not held in high esteem culturally, this condition seems to be important. Findings – The main argument is that learning is related to recognition – especially when it comes to groups of professionals, who are low ranked in the workplace hierarchy and therefore seldom experience recognition in their daily work. According to interviews with members of the mentioned professional groups, learning spaces, in which the medical and professional hierarchies are suspended, promote learning processes. Originality/value – Axel Honneth’s critical theory of recognition is used as the theoretical framework for understanding more generally the relational nature of human learning processes and the need for recognizing contexts. The paper concludes that this need is particularly imperative in health and care work for the elderly, but may also promote learning more generally. Keywords Learning, Health services, Elder care Paper type Case study

Introduction In interviews with nurses, social- and health care assistants and occupational therapists working in elderly care and with elderly in hospitals, three different contexts are put forward as having great potentials for learning processes. The three spaces for learning are supervision groups, network groups and interdisciplinary conferences – either connected to the home based care for the elderly or to hospital wards. According to the interviewees these settings constitute learning spaces in which both the individual health care worker and the group of professionals are able to develop their competencies. In supervision groups experiences of the individual health worker are in focus. Work experiences are shared, while the education and position of the participants vary. The experiences often have a strong emotional dimension as health work with elderly people with dementia confronts the professionals with both existential and societal conditions of human life. The interviewed participants in the supervision group share situations from their practice and the emotions they triggered. The stories are reflected on by the group members and unpleasant emotions are potentially contained in the

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group. According to the interviewed health professionals this “working through” experience in the group functions as a space for learning. In network groups the common theme is either a certain illness or a group of patients and the medical, institutional and professional context this illness or patient group is treated in. As in the supervision groups, education and position of the participants vary. Focus is on sharing knowledge about the common theme, from different professional angles. This knowledge can be experience based as well as theoretical. Often it is interdisciplinary, for example when drawing on knowledge about institutions, legislation and voluntary organizations. Network groups are spaces for sharing knowledge, but as the interviewees report the networks were able to support the participants emotionally too. They helped break down prejudices against other professional groups and made one feel more confident when cooperating with these groups. In interdisciplinary conferences the patient and his or her diagnosis is in focus. The professional hierarchy is put into brackets for a while – contributions from all members of the ward are important, educational background or position notwithstanding. While doctors use their medical knowledge, social- and health care assistants report their experiences of the everyday care work situations with the patient. Both kinds of knowledge are taken into consideration in the patients’ treatment and possible successive help on release. The interviewees see the conferences as spaces for exchanging and developing professional knowledge. At the same time the conferences promote the sense of being part of a team, in which the contribution of every individual is of value. In this sense the conferences may raise the self-esteem of the single professional and strengthen the sense of community in the specific ward. The descriptions of the three settings point to important characteristics for what is conceived as learning spaces at the workplace by health care professionals themselves. In order to promote learning in the sector I therefore find it important to investigate these characteristics. Method The article is written on the basis of two empirical research projects. It draws on an evaluation of the project “Cooperation on dementia in Roskilde County” (Liveng, 2008) and on an investigation of the need to develop competences among social- and health care assistants working in The Zealand Region (Liveng and Storm, 2008). Both research projects involved qualitative semi-structured focus group interviews with employees in the home based care of the elderly and in hospitals respectively. In the first project I interviewed social- and health care assistants, nurses and occupational therapists among other professional groups. In the other project exclusively social- and health care assistants participated. The interviews departed in both cases from a focus on the everyday work experiences of the employees. Questions regarding problematic areas in the work were asked, but also questions of positive events such as what made the jobs worthwhile. Finally each interviewee was asked about the specific theme of the project. All material was transcribed and thematized in relation to the research focus of the specific project. The theme “learning and recognition” emerged from the material in a thoroughly grounded way. Neither of the projects was centred on the theme of recognition, nor was learning and recognition in any way coupled in the interview questions. But when

working with the interview texts surprisingly many stories conveyed recognition – or lack of recognition. The different outsets of the projects made it particularly interesting to understand why the theme of recognition spontaneously revealed itself, and why this theme repeatedly was intertwined with examples of learning processes. Is it possible to draw conclusions on the basis of two sets of empirical material produced in different research contexts? The method involves risks; however I find it fruitful. First, it can be argued that the two sets of material are really not that different. The interviews have been carried out in one year in one geographical area, and they have been structured the same way. Both research projects deal with female social- and health care professionals, in public employment, and their degree is not academic. All the professionals were employed in various types of health and care work, which could be labelled as “marked by decline”. The joined reading of the texts can be seen as a way of triangulating the extrapolated themes from the one set of interviews to the other. Second, the theoretical framework which I use in order to analyze the material, points to structural conditions, which are not local. While Honneth’s theory claims that recognition is relevant to all human beings, the theories of the hierarchies of health and care work applied in this article operate with categories relevant to all work in the sector. The risks involved in the approach are connected to the possible blindness towards themes in the material connected to learning, which are only present in one set of interviews or are not as distinctly present as the theme of recognition. Such themes could still be of importance in order to understand workplace learning in the sector, but might fade away with the researchers attention on the more strongly and repeatedly formulated theme. The danger is that an interpreter, having been caught by the stories of how recognition interacts with learning, sees nothing but this. To take this reservation into account I underline that the aim of this article is not to give a complete picture of which dimensions are of importance to workplace learning. The aim is to investigate a certain theme which is undoubtedly present in the material. Honneth’s critical theory of recognition Axel Honneth’s work focuses on social-political and moral philosophy, especially on relations of power, recognition, and respect. The priority of inter-subjective relationships of recognition in understanding social relations is a core argument in his work (Honneth, 2001, 2003a (see also Honneth, 2000 for original). Taking his starting-point in anthropology and philosophy, Honneth defines recognition as a basic human need. The ability to sense, interpret, and realize one’s needs and desires as a fully autonomous and individuated person depends crucially on the development of self-confidence, self-respect, and self-esteem. The three modes of relating practically to oneself can only be acquired and maintained inter-subjectively by being granted recognition by someone whom one also recognizes. As a result, the conditions for self-realization are dependent on the establishment of relationships of mutual recognition. The relationships have to be established in three equally important spheres: The intimate sphere, the judicial sphere, and the sphere of solidarity. Networks of solidarity and shared values within which the particular worth of members of a community can

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be acknowledged, for example exist at the workplace, inside a profession, or in broader social networks. Recognition experienced in the sphere of solidarity leads to self-esteem. Self-esteem represents one of the three species of “practical relation to self”. These are neither purely beliefs about oneself nor emotional states but involve a dynamic process in which individuals come to experience themselves as having a certain status, be it as an object of concern, a responsible agent, or a valued contributor to shared projects. The ability to relate to oneself in these ways necessarily involves experiencing recognition from others. In other words, one’s relationship to oneself is understood as an inter-subjective process, in which one’s attitude toward oneself emerges in one’s encounter with another’s attitude toward oneself. The theory of Honneth is not explicitly a theory of learning. But with its focus on the preconditions for the experience of a “practical relation to self” it points to preconditions for human development. With its critical historical perspective on these preconditions, and drawing on Winnicott and Mead among others, it places human development in a context of mutuality, interdependence and struggle for the access to these preconditions. Learning in the workplace takes place in such a context. Work place learning is an activity happening in the sphere of solidarity, in which the knowledge, abilities and trustworthiness of the participant is what is recognizable. Potentially, workplace learning is connected to expanding knowledge, responsibility and self esteem. The theory of recognition offers an understanding of why learning processes are generated in certain contexts. At the same time it constitutes a central approach to a critical discussion of the preconditions for work place learning as it goes beyond the mere imitation of practice or assimilation to given structures.

Work inscribed in hierarchies Historically, health and care work has been carried out by women in the private sphere. As work accomplished outside the monetary circulation, it has hardly been registered as work (Honneth, 2003b). The positioning of health and care work in a dichotomy in which productive work is valued as opposed to re-productive work clings to the work, even after it has become publicly financed wage labour (Dahl, 2004). In addition, one finds hierarchical structures incorporated in health and care work. Kari Wærness (1999) differentiates between three categories of publicly financed health and care work: (1) Health and care work leading to growth or measurable results is the most attractive for the professional groups. The social and health sector primarily aims at treatment; that is, to make the patient function so that he or she leaves the role as a patient or client. “Institutions of growth”, for example the somatic hospitals, are in general the most prestigious institutions in the sector. Inside the institutions of growth jobs concerned with basic care giving, pay the lowest salary and are the least prestigious. (2) Maintenance care does not lead to self-reliance of the client but aims at a certain level of functioning. Examples of institutions in this category are institutions for the chronically ill and the physically or mentally handicapped.

(3) Health and care work connected to situations marked by decline is the least attractive. Care workers in this category – and often also the receivers of care – know that the process will have a negative course in short or in the long run. So the “effectiveness” of the work is difficult to measure. One cannot separate the health and care work of low-esteemed geriatric patients from the closeness of the work with the physical body and death. Lise Widding Isaksen (2003) perceives work near the body as related to symbols and values which society attributes to the body. She argues that working with tools, “marking the world”, in a society dominated by patriarchal structures, is perceived as productive and therefore higher valued than working without tools or technology between oneself and the body of another person. Isaksen identifies a hierarchy of illnesses which correspond to the cultural symbolism described above: Illnesses cured by the use of technology gain a higher status and receive more funds than illnesses which “only” require basic bodily care or which cannot be cured at all. Several professional groups work in the different categories of health and care work and with a variety of specialisations. The groups have different degrees, hold various positions in the organisations and are paid differentiated salaries. They range from social- and health care helpers with 14 months of professional training who work in the home based care for the elderly, to consultants with academic degrees and continuing specializations in charge of entire hospital wards. Professional hierarchies are present in all workplaces, but in the health and care sector these are intertwined with the status and valuation which the particular area of work holds culturally. The interviewees and their positions The strong need for recognition among the interviewees can be interpreted in relation to the content of the work they carry out as well as in relation to the positions they hold in the above-mentioned hierarchies. Each is placed in a position in the professional hierarchy according to her educational level. The task of one group of interviewees is to care for the elderly suffering from dementia. Dementia is an age-related illness, and even though the medical treatment has been improved so that it is now possible to postpone the final states of the disorder, dementia is still incurable. Once diagnosed with dementia there is no way back; the states of the disorder will inevitable grow worse in a short or long run. The health care professionals who participated in the dementia cooperation project were involved in care work, which Waerness labels “marked by decline”. The other group of interviewees works in a hospital as social- and health care assistants in a dementia clinic or in an apoplexy ward. Social- and health care assistants hold the lowest professional position in the ward. The work carried out in the dementia clinic focuses on diagnosing and making the course of the disorder as painless as possible for patient and relatives. This work includes trying out different types of medicine, referring the patient to practical assistance and social or psychological support. The tasks at the apoplexy ward fit into one of the categories, formulated by Waerness, depending on the circumstances. A stroke or cerebral thrombosis usually

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strikes the elderly. Depending on how serious it is and what the general condition of the patient is, he or she might be able to recover by intensive rehabilitation and radical change of life style. But many patients will be permanently affected. As the interviewees explain, a huge problem is that patients, who are offered rehabilitation support and assistance to change their life style, do not accept the offer. Sometimes they even react aggressively towards the advice given by the staff. As a result, the work of the apoplexy ward can be categorised as stagnation. It is also significant to mention that formal learning activities of the professionals in case are not highly prioritized. The daily operation, especially in the home based care, takes up almost all the staff’s resources. Both in the home based care and in hospitals modernization processes have been focused on during the previous years. These processes have partly been initiated by joining municipalities into larger units and joining councils into Regions. And they have been partly connected to introducing New Public Management in the sector. One of the interviewees stated: “I really don’t think we are spoiled by educational offers!” Supervision groups The social- and health care assistants, nurses and occupational therapists, who were interviewed in connection to the evaluation of the dementia cooperation project, reported on a meaningful but also an emotionally straining job. They considered dementia a taboo, and information about the disorder was suppressed by the relatives of the elderly as well as by society. Even the interviewed consultant agreed that dementia was a low prioritized disorder, which until recently had been heavily shrouded by taboos. She stated: “Most doctors are really not interested in dementia as it cannot be cured medically,.” Many of the interviewed described themselves or their colleagues as fiery characters, who were so involved in helping the elderly suffering from dementia and their relatives that they took no notice of spent working hours. Some had been struggling with the authorities for better conditions for both staff and patients. They were convinced that treatment, activities, support to relatives etc. could better the situation for the elderly, but they got the impression that no one else working in the field, had this insight. They felt that they were working in a neglected niche. On this background the dementia cooperation project represented new possibilities. It brought the disorder into focus in the health sector. It led to more effective working procedures by as manuals for cooperation between sectors were introduced. A variety of initiatives were taken: in-service training, network groups and supervision for dementia counsellors who are working directly with the geriatric patient and his/her relatives. The supervision as well as the network groups were described as an initiative which met an enormous unfulfilled need for sharing experiences and knowledge. The supervision groups were organized by a psychologist, the networks by a project leader. Some themes were discussed in both groups, but overall the supervision groups focused more strongly on the emotional aspects of the job. They functioned as groups in which each participant could share distressing and straining experiences from contact with the patients: There are not many people who have the courage and the experience needed to talk about the difficulties we are facing in dealing with people with dementia. It is tough indeed; it is full of

suffering, it is impossible to think through. . . Both in connection to how you cooperate with politicians and explain them what dementia is, and how you assistant difficult citizens. There was this old man found dead on a track. . . Here it is beautiful when you find peace in what has been done, and in being able to see what we can learn from it. The supervision groups allow you to be able to deal with the very hard and violent situations. In this way you are able to bring the episode to an end.

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In the quotation the role of the supervision group is emphasized in coming to terms with emotionally stressing experiences. The interviewee mentions the frustration she and her colleagues face when they try to gain attention on the political level. She also mentions the hardship the social and health care workers are often faced with in the interaction with the geriatric patients suffering from dementia. The uniting point seems to be a feeling of powerlessness. This powerlessness is pinpointed in the episode which the social and health care worker refers to. She presents a tragic story of an old man who walked away from his residential home in the countryside and was found dead several days later. The interviewee is a dementia counsellor at the residential home and to some extent feels responsible for the incident. Honneth states that human subjects are only capable of building and maintaining a positive relation to self through the approving and affirmative reactions of other subjects (Honneth, 2000). In the supervision group the dementia counsellor recounts the incidence. The group provided an environment in which she was able to come to terms with the guilt and frustration that the case has meant to her. In the group she has objectified her experience and the attached emotions. I interpret her expression “you find peace in what has been done” as suggesting that the group has shown her an affirmative reaction, analyzed the situation and convinced her that her actions were responsible and competent. Thus she regains a positive relation to her self. In other words, on a reflexive level she can look at the case and the attached emotions without being paralyzed by guilt. Through this process the case transforms from an emotional burden into an incident from which it is possible to draw experiences and learn to prepare for similar situations.

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Network groups The network groups functioned as a forum for discussion and exchange of knowledge between different types of professionals. The interviewees had either participated in a network on Alzheimer’s disease or in a network dealing with younger patients suffering from dementia. To support these groups of patients, the interviewees stated that the knowledge of the staff is essential. The network groups offered the participators valuable insight into the professionalism of the other professional groups. In the quotations there is a strong focus on the possibility of understanding: Understanding how the other groups think and act and the reasons why. In the quotations about the network groups the interviewees are preoccupied with interdisciplinarity. They recognised their own professionalism through the other professionals and their insight into the skills and knowledge of the other professional groups. The interviewees also acknowledge differences in competences between employees and therefore they need open discussions of where certain competences are most needed. Furthermore, they express a need for experiences in which they can widen their professional horizon.

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Finally, the networks have given the participants confidence in relation to their colleagues. In this sense the networks not only provided the participants with new knowledge, but they also strengthened their competences when it came to solving complex problems through cooperation in everyday work: The contacts I have got from participating, they were really good; that it was interdisciplinary, that it was across municipalities, it was really good. In the group there was a representative from the centre for brain damaged, social advisers, a nurse and sometimes a doctor. The interdisciplinarity is an advantage, because in my daily work I only spend time with health care staff. It provided me with a new perspective on the cases. And it is always easier to get on the blower and call if you want to consult someone about a matter if you have been in such a group together before.

Being recognized as a valuable member of a community is one of the forms of recognition possible to achieve in the sphere of solidarity (Honneth, 2003a (see Honneth, 2000 for original)). Recognition gained in this sphere leads to self-esteem. Increased self-esteem is reflected in the quotations which focus on the new, more straightforward and easygoing contact to the other professional groups. In a sector in which different professional groups work side by side it might be surprising that an actual exchange of knowledge and perspectives seemingly only happens when the employees meet for this explicit purpose, in other surroundings than their daily work. The interviewees report on their tight/tough working conditions, with a lack of educated staff and tight time schedules. Everyday practice does not leave much space for reflection or exchange of experience or knowledge. As a nurse says: The social and professional cooperation is an important factor (. . .). You have to be prepared for the task you are going to carry out. And you have to take care of each other. People must feel that they develop, are given responsibilities -that it matters if they show up. There is not much room for things which make your workday a bit funnier. So it is important that people can get a break, for example attend courses, in general see the workday in another light.

Several important keywords, which can be interpreted in relation to Honneth’s theory, are present in the above quotation: To be prepared for tasks, to care and to be cared for in reciprocity, to develop, to be given responsibility – and maybe most important – to feel that one matters. To feel that one matters and that ones skills are required at a workplace are closely connected to the experience of being a valuable member of the community. The experience of being valuable constitutes recognition on an inter-subjective level. Various spaces for reflection connected to work are put forward by the nurse. The fact that one is allowed into these spaces may be interpreted as a way in which the organization recognizes the individual member of staff. Does “getting a break” represent recognition? Participating in a network group – or in supervision – does indeed provide room for stress relief. But at the same time establishing networks and supervision, which have not existed in the field previously, is a symbol of recognition of the burdens which professionals working in dementia care face. The establishing of networks and supervision was made possible through governmental funds, and thus the appropriation signified a new political awareness. Political awareness -and public interest- represent recognition on a macro level in an area, in which professionals previously have felt ignored.

Interdisciplinary conferences The social and health care assistants working in a hospital carried out work which included a greater element of diagnosis, treatment – and in the case of the apoplexy ward – rehabilitation. Often the diagnostically aspects of the work were described as interesting: Questions of how to reach a diagnosis, how to find the proper treatment, the effectiveness of new medication or advanced instruments and apparatus were challenging. Daily treatment – and particularly rehabilitation – were on the other hand a source of frustration. The appraisal of the different sides of the job reflected clearly the hierarchy shown in the categories formulated by Waerness. Rehabilitation was depicted as something of a Sisyphean task because of the reluctance of many patients when it came to a change of lifestyle. They did not want to take exercise, they did not want to eat healthy food, and they did not want to quit smoking. Particularly smoking caused distress among the employees: One employee told about the odd feeling she had when asked to help a newly operated patient smoke a cigarette. Wishes and habits of the patients were often contradictory to the medical advice, and so hospital initiatives were ignored. The social- and health care assistants whose job it is to make patients follow the advice seemingly felt rejected. Some tasks felt hopeless and therefore meaningless. The accounts of the interdisciplinary conferences have to be seen on this background. The social- and health care assistants, who belong to the shortest educated staff in the hospital, appreciated the cooperation with the other professionals: We have something called interdisciplinary conference at 9 a.m. where we all meet, physiotherapists, occupational therapists, doctors, nurses and us social- and health care assistants. There we talk about the patients who have shown up that day. It means that when you are together with the others no one has a higher place than the other. Everyone is equal and everyone has something to say. In this ward we do it every day, and it is nice that everyone can contribute and put forward wishes for the plan of the single patient. It is what makes it so wonderful to be down here.

At the conference the assistant experiences an environment in which she can contribute with her knowledge and where she can listen to and learn from the others. Apparently she does not experience that her contribution to the common duty is acknowledged to the same degree outside the conference. Her focus on the equality of the professional groups in the conference forum indicates that equality is not the usual norm. With Honneth one can say that the assistant is seen in another way by her colleagues at the conference than she is during other parts of work. Honneth (2001) differentiates between the mere cognitive act of registration of another person being present and the emotional acknowledgement by which the other is granted value as an intelligible human being. I interpret this acknowledgement to be what is “so wonderful” about being at the conference. Here the assistant is not just present and visible in a cognitive sense; she is recognized as an individual with own wishes and contributions to the common tasks. Conferences were held both in the apoplexy ward and in the dementia clinic. At the conferences all staff took part in unravelling the patient’s diagnosis. The social- and health care assistants explained that they gained new knowledge from participating. The very process of reaching a diagnosis was described as a learning process:

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We have a team conference twice a week where we sit down together with doctors, care personnel, and other colleagues; there is a psychiatrist coming in from another place and we reach diagnose, try to reach them at least. We are part of that, we take part in observing. Time after time one gets better and better to spot what diseases it can be -I myself think this observing is an important part of the job. As we are scarce of doctors we have taken over, well not the tasks of the doctors but a lot of the conversations. What has to do with medication is still our doctors, but many conversations which previously were taken by doctors do we carry out now. It works well and we have been trained and participated several times. So for example, if we have taken a conversation with a patient or a control after they have started taking medicine, we hold a team conference afterwards and discuss it there.

As the quotation illustrates the professional hierarchy is not suspended at the conference – rather a struggle about tasks and responsibility takes place. The scarcity of academically educated staff is an advantage for the social- and health care assistants in this struggle as they gain access to perform more qualified tasks. Participating in the cooperation at the conference includes the assistants in the professional community, and it supports them in expanding their competencies so that they are able to fulfil these tasks. In this sense it is not only possible for the assistants to experience recognition on an inter-subjective level through the conferences; participating also supports their position in a struggle for recognition among the groups of professionals in the organization.

Common characteristics of the settings The three discussed settings -supervision groups, network groups and interdisciplinary conferences – function as spaces for a learning having emotional, cognitive and social dimensions. The settings hold important common characteristics, and by these characteristics they differ in several ways from their surrounding institutional context. First the usual hierarchy between professional groups in the health care sector is suspended in all settings. The involvement and participation of each professional in the context is important, educational background and position notwithstanding. Second, the daily pressure of work; of tasks which have to be solved, phones which have to be answered, patients who have to be taken care of, relatives who have to be supported – this pressure is for a while excluded in favour of a space open for reflection, discussion, knowledge sharing and potentially emotional support. Third, it is possible for the professionals to gain recognition in all three settings. In either of the settings an inter-subjective recognition is experienced, as the participants feel they are listened to, taken seriously and positively acknowledged by the other professionals. From participating each individual gets the sense: “I matter”. Fourth, an effect of being involved in the three settings is an increased sense of being part of a team – being an important contributor to the community and the solving of its tasks. Finally the learning processes which were generated in the settings were not forced on the participants, but departing from their different knowledge, experiences and perspectives. The common characteristics point to crucial preconditions for competence development at the workplace. When these preconditions are fulfilled, the three

settings hold potentials for work place learning, which is not isolated from work, but neither is it the same as work. Conclusion In this article I have pointed to the need for recognition being particularly present with employees who are either low ranked in a professional hierarchy, or who are engaged in health and care work marked by decline. The low cultural valorisation of the work is the reason why this need is noticeable. My analysis of the interviews with the professionals demonstrated how learning and competence development is closely intertwined with recognition. Recognition is a prerequisite for learning, and this was explained by applying the theory of Axel Honneth: The acknowledgement of another human being of ones emotions, knowledge or skills – all founding competencies in health and care work – is what makes it possible for the subject to relate to these dimensions of self. The subject measures the worth and trustworthiness of these competencies through the attitude of the other. Acknowledgement allows the subject to display and use her emotions, knowledge and skills and thereby to reflect on them, change and develop them. Supervision groups, network groups and interdisciplinary conferences represented learning spaces in which preconditions for recognition were present. Professional hierarchies were subordinated in these settings, and the contribution from each participant was valued. In this sense they differ from their institutional context. The theory of recognition used in the context of work place learning makes one aware that the possibility of learning in connection to work is advantageous – symbolically and in reality. This is the case in health and care work for elderly subjectively as well as collectively. Access to this advantage not only potentially strengthens the self-esteem of the individual employee; it is also potentially a means for raising the esteem of a certain group of professionals or a certain area of work. In the field of health care for the elderly, this is significantly needed. References Dahl, H.M. (2004), “A view from the inside: recognition and redistribution in the Nordic welfare state from a gender perspective”, Acta Sociologica, Vol. 47 No. 4, pp. 325-37. Honneth, A. (2000), “Zwischen Aristoteles und Kant. Skizze einer Moral der Anerkennung”, in Edelstein, W. and Nunner-Winkler, G. (Eds), Moral im Sozialen Kontext, Frankfurt am Main. Honneth, A. (2001), “Invisibility: on the epistemology of ‘recognition’”, The Aristotelian Society, Supplementary Volume LXXV, pp. 111-26. Honneth, A. (2003a), “Mellem Aristoteles og Kant”, in Willig, R. (Ed.), Behovet for Anderkendelse, Hans Reitzels Forlag, Copenhagen, pp. 73-97 (for original, see Honneth (2000)). Honneth, A. (2003b), “Redistribution as recognition: a response to Nancy Fraser”, in Fraser, N. and Honneth, A. (Eds), Redistribution or Recognition? A Political-Philosophical Exchange, Verso, London, New York, NY, pp. 110-97. Isaksen, L.W. (2003), “Homo Fabers symbolske magt, om krop og maskulinitet i plejearbejde”, in Isaksen, L.W. (Ed.), Omsorgens Pris – kjønn, makt og marked i velferdsstaten, Gyldendal Akademisk, Oslo, pp. 162-83.

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Liveng, A. (2008), “Som solsikker der strækker sig efter lyset. En kvalitativ evaluering af projekt” Demens Samarbejdet i Roskilde Amt”, available at: http://diggy.ruc.dk:8080/retrieve/ 11268 (accessed 7 October 2009). Liveng, A. and Storm, H. (2008), “Afdækning af kompetenceudviklingsbehov hos social- og sundhedsassistenter, m.fl. Vækstforum Sjælland, 2008”, available at: http://diggy.ruc. dk:8080/retrieve/12780 (accessed 7 October 2009). Wærness, K. (1999), “Omsorg, omsorgsarbeid og omsorgsrasjonalitet – refleksjoner over en socialpolitisk diskurs”, in Thorsen, K. and Waerness, K. (Eds), Bliver omsorgen borte?, Ad Notam Gyldendal, Oslo, pp. 46-61. About the author Anne Liveng’s main research interest is in the interplay between subjectivity and learning in and for health and care work. Departing from a psycho-social understanding of subjectivity she has especially focused on care work for the elderly. She considers care work to be basically relational work and uses object relation theory and psycho-biographical understandings in order to explain the often difficult meetings between care providers and those in need of care. She is interested in the reasons why care work for the elderly is assigned low recognition and in how this low recognition influences the learning possibilities that present themselves in work. She connects these questions with analysis of gendered, medical and bodily hierarchies. Recently work has concentrated on the perspective of the elderly in need of care; their needs and wishes for their life as users of home-based care or as residents in nursing homes. The needs in several ways stand in contrast with the standardization introduced by New Public Management in the sector. Methodologically she is concerned with ethnographic methods, combining interviews and observations, and with life historical approaches. Anne Liveng can be contacted at: [email protected]

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Exploring internal segregation in the South African medical profession Angelique Wildschut

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Human Sciences Research Council, Western Cape, Cape Town, South Africa Abstract Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to explore the motivations underlying the specialisation choices of six female specialist doctors working in Cape Town, South Africa and to investigate whether the specific gender work identity associated with that specialism resulted in their motivation to enter it. Design/methodology/approach – The research methodology comprised conducting semi-structured interviews, where female medical doctors were asked to provide an account of their general experiences as medical doctors in a male-dominated profession, as well as a more specific question related to their choice of specialisation. Findings – These female medical specialists entered these so-called soft specialisms mainly for three reasons: so-called female-friendly characteristics; exposure to, not necessarily fuelled by interest in, certain specialisms; and so-called male characteristics. Originality/value – The importance of such research is threefold as it has practical, social, and economic implications. The practical implications are evident in that a better understanding of the perceived gendered work identities has the potential to impact better retention and recruitment. The social implication is also important, as unchallenged gendered trends serve to perpetuate gender unequal outcomes in the wider society, which can be constraining or discriminatory. Lastly, an aspect which is not always considered is the fact that gender inequality is economically inefficient. The scientific value is found in the space it provides for reconsidering the relevance of the use of the terms “soft and hard” specialisms to explain the drivers of internal segregation in the medical profession. Keywords Feminisn, Doctors, Gender, Work identity, Workplace learning, South Africa Paper type Research paper

Introduction and literature review Any reader of this journal might question the relevance of this article to the broader debate around workplace learning. I would locate its value in the fact that it aims to stimulate debate and thinking around how and if certain gendered work identities influence decision-making in professions, and how they are learnt and perpetuated. Articles focusing on the impact of workplace learning is particularly relevant in the medical profession, due to the very early exposure to clinical practice that students receive. Thus it is quite plausible to expect work experiences and learning to greatly impact on students’ specialty choices. We will use the conceptualisation of workplace learning as that which implies “human change or growth that occurs primarily in The author acknowledges the contribution of Dr Mignonne Breier, on whose insight and constructive critique she can always depend. She also thanks her for comments on the previous draft of this article. This paper was the runner-up in the Best Paper Award at the 6th International Conference on Researching Work and Learning, Denmark, June 2009.

Journal of Workplace Learning Vol. 22 No. 1/2, 2010 pp. 53-66 q Emerald Group Publishing Limited 1366-5626 DOI 10.1108/13665621011012852

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activities and contexts of work, however it is defined and located” (Fenwick, 2001, p. 4). In other words, we are investigating the outcomes due to the process of increasing feminisation of the medical profession, and how this creates a space to reconsider the relevance of gendered work identities as a way in which to conceptualise specialty choices in medicine. Extensive literature in the field has evidenced the likelihood of female medical doctors to not only fall disproportionately in general practice, but in terms of specialisation, in the so-called softer specialisms of paediatrics, dermatology, family medicine, and obstetrics and gynaecology, while they are underrepresented in the high status specialities of surgery and internal medicine (Walker, 1997; Hinze, 1999; Armstrong and Armstrong, 1992; Riska, 2001; Gjerberg, 2002). Thus, women are not spread evenly across the different fields of medicine but tend to concentrate in those that are somewhat lower-status and perhaps more easily sex-typed feminine (Wright and Jacobs, 1994; Adams, 2005). This phenomenon is termed internal segregation (also referred to as ghettoization by Reskin and Roos, 1990), and it is evident in the South African medical profession. These trends held in studies on gender in the medical profession across a number of countries, Canada, the UK and the USA. This phenomenon confirms that although women are not blatantly discriminated against in terms of entry into the medical profession, instances of internal segregation are evident. Lester (2008) in his study on women health faculty members in an academic setting for instance, shows how gendered practices can be replicated and maintained although formal gender discriminatory structures are no longer present (Davies, 1996). Crompton and Le Feuvre (2003, p. 36) in this regard note that “the entry of women into higher-level professional occupations has not resulted in their equal distribution within these occupations”. The traditional view is that this is an expected outcome, based on gender preferences resulting from socialisation. I argue for a more comprehensive interrogation of the position of women in medicine (Wildschut, 2008a, b), as unchallenged “patterns of occupational distribution within professions also reflect the (re)production of the gender division of labour within the professions as well as in the wider society” (Crompton and Le Feuvre, 2003, p. 37). The concern and interest in this field is evidenced in the growing attention being paid to gender shifts in the work orientations of doctors (Gjerberg, 2001; Shields and Shields, 2003; Levinson and Lurie, 2004; Jovic et al., 2006, Breier and Wildschut, 2006; Wildschut, 2008a, b). The importance of studying this subject is underscored with Williams’ (1999, p. 115) assertion that even though women are infiltrating the profession and male dominated specialisations increasingly, “many factors continue to militate against women in the profession: there are relatively few women in the senior ranks of organised medicine, faculty in medical schools are still predominantly male, specialties such as surgery remain male-dominated although more women are becoming surgeons, and the powerful homogenizing impact of selection into, and socialisation within, a historically male-dominated profession remains”. Although Williams’ study refers to a decade earlier, unfortunately most of his assertions are found to still ring true today. Much of the literature investigating the reasons why men and women end up in disproportionate numbers in certain specialisms, attributes this outcome to mainly two aspects. Women have been found to increasingly enter the so-called “softer specialisms” within medicine. They were so termed, because of their “female-friendly” characteristics,

in that they are perceived to be compatible with the more traditional perceptions of the physical, and emotional nature of women. These can be classified into two main areas, which will be elaborated on next: (1) the physical and practical characteristics of that specialty which are considered to be more accommodating to women with families; and (2) the more conceptual understanding of that specialty. Physical and practical characteristics The literature supporting this perspective, argues that internal segregation in medicine is based on the physical and practical characteristics of that specialty which are considered to be more accommodating to women with families (for example, flexible, shorter, or more predictable working hours, and extent of surgical or technical aspects) (see also choice or supply-side explanations by Jovic et al., 2006). This view attributes the gender differences in specialism to nothing more than just the outcome of individual women, which are largely influenced by their identification with certain aspects or characteristics of that specialism as gender appropriate. Thus it argues that women have essentially different qualities from men and will thus be drawn into more gender-specific, or gender-appropriate tasks and roles within a profession (Tanner and Cockerill, 1996). This research (Riska, 2001; Reskin, 1993), suggests that differences in “specialities and work settings may be linked to differences in work and family values that lead women to select jobs and fields that best facilitate work-family balance” (Lester, 2008, p. 3). The fact that women enter specialties specifically because of working hours, to better balance their primary care responsibilities supports this assertion. Conceptual understanding This explanation around the reasons for internal segregation in medicine focuses more on the conceptual understanding of that specialty (similar to Jovic, Wallace and Lemaire’s, demand side explanation), (which consists of, among other things; the nature of the knowledge and skills associated, the numbers of females in that specialism to the extent that it contributes to associating a specific specialism with a specific sex, as well as associated values for instance, the extent of interpersonal interaction, patient centred/ holistic care). For instance in support of the latter, this perspective asserts that “female doctors are more likely than their male counterparts to engage patients as active partners in their care” (Jovic et al., 2006, p. 2, Williams, 1999). This explanation focuses on the behaviours of not only the individual, but also takes into account the wider organisational or professional culture which will either serve to facilitate or constrain individuals, particularly women, in their participation resulting in gender inequality. Taking the above into account, the confluence/specific mix of these aspects, thus cause certain specialisms to over time become either defined as, or more strongly associated with, a specific sex. For example then, specialisms with more surgically and physically intensive content, have over the years become to be more strongly associated with males, and those specialisms with the less surgical intensity would be associated with females. In support of this association thus, specialisms that are seen to require less personal interaction, or nurturing of patients, or where these aspects are seen as secondary to the practice of that specialism, will be classified as hard, and vice versa. This links very clearly to the expectation that women are inclined to be more relationship and caring oriented, and thus would be drawn more to “softer” specialisms.

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Showing how these factors are not easily classified, and sometimes converge, Williams (1999, p. 116) notes while some choices “may in fact be essentially pragmatic responses to familial responsibilities, other appear to be more rooted in attitudes and values”. Although acknowledging the phenomenon, Wright and Jacobs (1994) has motivated for a more cautioned approach to this classification, and suggests that these phenomena can never be considered as final points on a spectrum, and talks about ghettoizing, integrating and segregating professions. I would support this more cautious approach to the internal gender segregation debate in the medical profession, as my analysis and findings suggests that these processes are continually changing, and cannot be understood as merely points of fact. The increasing feminisation represents change in a majority male profession, and thus it is no surprise that this “necessitates the remaking of work practices and work identities and provides a space, and probably a need, for renegotiation of gendered identities” (Abrahamsson, 2006, p. 105). This is where I feel my research can make a contribution as through this analysis I would like to start a debate and interrogate the assumptions within the literature investigating the reasons for internal segregation in medicine. Crompton and Le Feuvre (2003, p. 36) also caution against taking a completely unilateral stance in terms of gendered preferences in specialisation, and assert that “despite an important element of continuity in respect of gendered occupational structuring. . . national variations in both professional and domestic gendered architectures lead to different outcomes as far as the extent and patterns of internal occupational segregation are concerned”. Thus, although gender trends in the medical specialties suggests that internal segregation is evident also in South Africa, we have to be conscious of the probability of differences in its extent and nature in our context (see also Chiu and Leicht, 1999). Furthermore, discourse and debate in this area cover a wide range of issues such as; stress and psychological morbidity, abuse, sexual harassment and gender discrimination (CEJA, 1993), changes in values and career plans, structural inequalities, occupational closure (Harden, 2001; Loudon, 1999; Bickel in Searle, 2001), debt and career choice, specialization preferences and choices, marriage and the family (Thorne, 2004; Dedobbeleer, 1995), working conditions (Kotulak, 2005) and environment (rural/urban), pregnancy and lack of part-time training, career satisfaction (Barnett, 2005), earnings, and the importance of mentoring. Providing a South African context To provide a context within which to evaluate this phenomenon in the South African case, let us consider the current situation of female medical doctors in South Africa. The increasing feminisation of the medical profession in South Africa has been confirmed by many (Wildschut, 2008a, b; Walker, 1997, 2003, 2005, Breier and Wildschut, 2006; Brink et al., 1991; Hudson et al., 1997). This is true for medical schools as well as the profession in South Africa. The latest (2007) available medical school enrolment figures indicate that females now form 56.2 per cent of overall enrolments, up from a minority of 49.7 per cent in 1999. In terms of graduation women have managed to increase their proportional share from 46.6 per cent to 55.1 per cent during the same period.

When we move to an examination of women’s position in the profession, although we see noticeable gains over the period (2002-2008), women still firmly remain the minority as the Table I indicates. When we interrogate the situation further, we find that men by a much bigger margin still very clearly form the majority of specialists in South Africa (roughly 80 per cent). More specific to the discussion in this paper is Table II which indicates women’s proportional representation in selected specialisms (three specialisms traditionally associated with men, and three specialisms traditionally associated with women). Although gains have been made in terms of female proportional representation in traditionally male specialties, the latest (2006) figures shows that women are still more favourably represented in Obstetrics and Gynaecology (17 per cent), Peadiatrics (35 per cent) and Dermatology (32 per cent), compared to much lower proportional representations in Surgery (5 per cent), Orthopeadics (3 per cent) and Cardio-thoracic surgery (4 per cent).

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Research method and sample Research method and analysis The research methodology comprised analysing the semi-structured interview transcripts of six female medical specialist doctors. The interviews ranged from between one and two hours. The interviewees were asked to sign consent forms before the interview started, and these consent forms set out the background to the study, as well as the terms on which they give consent to be interviewed, and for this interaction to be tape-recorded. They were given the options of being either anonymous, mentioned by name only, or mentioned by name and designation. These six interviewees, however, all requested to remain anonymous, and thus I will refer to Respondent 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6. All interviews were transcribed and analysed inductively and deductively for common themes related to associated gender roles and behaviours and the assumed gender identity associated with a specialisation. I used Data Reduction choosing to first descriptively analyse the interviewees responses to the specific question around why they entered their specialisation of choice. The second part involved a much wider thematic analysis of the entire interview transcript of each respondent, finding where they mentioned or alluded to the reasons they entered the specific specialisation. I do the latter to interrogate whether their motivations to enter the specialisation were related to any gender specific reasons. The sample cannot be considered representative of the entire SA medical profession, but indeed the evaluation and analysis of these six interview transcripts will allow us Year

Male (%)

Female (%)

Total (%)

2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 2008

73 72 71.5 71 70 69

27 28 28.5 29 30 31

100 100 100 100 100 100

Source: Author’s own calculations based on data from the Health Professions Council of South Africa (HPCSA) (2002-2006, 2008)

Table I. Registered medical practitioners by gender, percentages, 2002-2006, 2008

84.68 69.41 72.39 95.54 97.83 95.45

15.32 30.59 27.61 4.46 2.17 4.55

Source: Health Professions Council of South Africa (2002-2006)

14.07 29.41 27.50 4.03 2.21 4.81

85.93 70.59 72.50 95.97 97.79 95.19

Obs and Gynae Paediatrics Dermatology Surgery Orthopaedics Cardio-thoracic surgery

Table II. Proportional representation of male and female specialists in South Africa in selected specialisms, 2002-2006

Specialisms

2003 (%) Male Female 84.67 68.54 70.24 96.06 97.67 95.50

15.33 31.46 29.76 3.94 2.33 4.50

2004 (%) Male Female 84.30 67.87 69.19 95.56 97.72 95.69

15.70 32.13 30.81 4.44 2.28 4.31

2005 (%) Male Female

82.68 64.83 67.60 95.16 97.49 95.83

17.32 35.17 32.40 4.84 2.51 4.17

2006 (%) Male Female

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2002 (%) Male Female

0.85 1.51 1.06 1.36 1.94 3.82

7.24 8.44 7.15 6.37 5.33 0.00

Average annual change (%) Male Female

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to see the decision-making process followed by these women, and the gendered factors that influenced, or did not influence, their decision to go into these so-called “softer specialisms”. Having a better understanding of the complex set of factors influencing the specialisation preferences of these women, will assist to offer more realistic recruitment processes, making it easier for women to stay in the practice of their chosen specialisation by limiting their experience of gender and work identity role conflict (Jovic et al., 2006). Sample make-up The larger study from which this sample is drawn is my doctoral research project, which investigates the reasons for attrition of female doctors from the SA medical profession, using an SA medical school as case study. The study’s sample consists of 25 female medical doctors, mostly general practitioners and some medical specialists in various specialties, as well as a cohort of medical students enrolling and graduating at this university’s medical school during a period of ten years as well as quantitative analysis of enrolment and graduation data of the entire country. The sample for this paper consists of six female medical specialists from Cape Town, all practising in the so-called “softer specialisms”, usually drawing bigger numbers of female doctors in comparison to the “harder specialisms” of Surgery and Internal medicine, for example, which is associated with a majority of male doctors. So, although the larger sample consists of 25 female medical doctors, not all of them were specialists, and thus I only had available for further investigation at the time, six female medical specialists in the so-called female friendly specialisms. These specialists were purposively sampled[1] to illuminate issues within the profession and to understand what might explain to some degree the reality in the wider population of female medical specialists in SA. It is criterion sampling as these women fulfil a specific criterion (being specialists in the so-called softer specialisms), and I do this to illustrate both the similarities in their motivations for entering these specialisms, but also to illustrate the complexities of their motivations, which cannot be assigned purely to the gender appropriate characteristics of that specialism. Respondent 1 (R1) is a specialist in infectious diseases, and practices in HIV medicine, which is increasingly being recognised as a specialty that draws large numbers of female doctors. Respondent 2 (R2) is a specialist in radiation oncology, which according to her, has many female characteristics (high degree of patient contact, centrality of palliative care which she associates with women’s more nurturing and caring roles). Respondent 3 (R3) is a specialist in family medicine, and she associates the high degree of personal contact with the patient, and the educational aspect of the field, with the assumed nurturing characteristics of females. Respondent 4 (R4) is a specialist in dermatology, which she identifies as a female friendly specialism because of the predictability of hours, and virtually no emergencies, thus excluding after hours patient responsibilities. Respondents 5 (R5) and 6 (R6) are both specialists in obstetrics and gynaecology. They both identify strongly with the so-called female characteristics because this specialism deals with women’s health issues and also includes an aspect of female activism, as it represents women taking control of their health and wellbeing. However, as will be seen in the analysis, it does not fall neatly into the classification as a so-called

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strictly female-friendly specialism, as it also has the same aspects of surgery within it (the long and unpredictable hours, and the technical aspect).

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Findings and discussion Essentially this section will evaluate whether these assumptions around women doctor’s motivations to enter a specialism hold in the cases of these six female medical specialists practising in these specialisms traditionally associated with females. In analysis of the interview transcripts three key themes of motivation emerged, and are discussed and elaborated on below. Exposure not interest In analysis of these interview transcripts I found that some of the female doctors entered a specialisation by chance, and mostly based on a role model or experience at that time, not necessarily because of the so-called female-friendly characteristics of that specialism. R3 indicates that her ending up as a family physician was just a product of life, as well as the influence of the admirable characteristics of her mentor at that time: In my fourth year, I did a, sort-off a rotation with a GP, who, I would sort-off consider my mentor, and really just appealed to me – and he was a Family Physician, and he was quite sort-off keen on that, and it really, out of all the specialities, it really appealed to me, I was considering doing Psychiatry at one stage.

R4’s motivation to enter dermatology also confirmed the above trend. When asked what influenced her decision to specialise in that area, and whether it had anything to do with the inspiring doctor she met (she mentioned it earlier in the interview), she responded: I would say yes, if it hadn’t been for him I wouldn’t have gone for Dermatology, I would’ve gone for Rheumatology or Neurology. I wasn’t particularly interested in Dermatology before I met him and then I realized that skin was in front of me, and I could see what it was, and I could easily research and build research with my medicine – so, I, yes, I don’t know, and then, he was just so, he had such a brilliant mind. . .

R2 illustrates that sometimes moving in to a particular specialism happens because of no apparent reason: Radiation Oncology, I think, life often just happens, and it was there, and I enjoyed it, I didn’t specifically look to Oncology.

R5’s experience also illustrates the importance of exposure to, not only good role models, but female role models: In medical school I can think of a couple of, and they were all women, well not all, ok there were some pretty good others, and some truly inspiring teachers at medical school, you know male specialists of various different specialties, but the main role models that I can think of were definitely women. And when you see one of them, I sort-off thought, I wish I could really be like her one day, or whatever. Both of the ones I am thinking about right now, were both gynaecologists as well, and I sort-off, when you’re in 4th year and you’re doing obstetrics it seems like an extremely far away goal. And you wonder if it’s really possible to ever get to that point, but then you say, they managed it so, and they were like good at what they did, really forceful people as well, and were quite inspiring and very much intolerant of messing about, and had high expectations from the students, and I thought that was good. They had high standards.

Although this section might be seen as illustrating the role of individual choice in finding a specialism, it is also important to consider how this illustrates the choices available or thought to be available to female doctors based on exposure. So even though these women might not have seen the exposure through role models as an explicit structural factor influencing their conceptualisation of the range and types of choice realistically available to them, careful analysis proposes the probability of this. For instance, why did surgeons not identify them as suitable to be taken under their wing? Would this have changed their conceptualisation around whether Surgery might have been a suitable specialism for them?

Based on the so-called female-friendly characteristics Conceptual understanding. In support of other research findings, my analysis here also suggests that female doctors do seem to enter certain specialisms based on the so-called female friendly characteristics in that specialism. These women in this study identified strongly with the female gendered-work identity associated with that specialty, and thus find the characteristics of; nurturing, care, interpersonal relations and empathy, a holistic patient-centred care approach desirable for female physicians (see also Crompton and Le Feuvre, 2003). As R1 remarks with regards to the aspect of interpersonal relationship, with which she positively associates: . . . quite often men tend to like the practicality of being a surgeon – you get into a job you finish it off and you don’t look back – it’s done – and uh, quite often women like to engage in a longer standing relationship where you actually see people monthly or every three months and build up a long long term relationship.

R6 also displays the gender-appropriate association and belief in obstetrics and gynaecology as a female specialty. She identifies again with nurturing and caring, when referring to the holistic caring aspects, which is not traditionally associated with a male: I believe women bring a different dimension to medicine. In a holistic effect that there is, I believe women can be much more holistic where medicine is concerned . . . I’m in women’s health, so I think that, for example, women in women’s health is essential. I think it brings a complete holistic attitude to the profession.

She also reflects on the positive impact she perceives that women have on quality of care: I’m biased obviously, but I strongly agree that we (referring to female doctors), positively influence quality of care.

R6 further elaborates with her identification of a female characteristic, of being willing to listen, which she feels male doctors often do not have time for. She states that the profession has come to realise that it is much more than just about treating a physical symptom, and female doctors: . . . are much more comfortable to attack that, and just explore that entire thing, and even although it’s going to crash your entire day, you’d explore the patient’s feelings and what’s going on, and feel that is a great asset to the profession, because ultimately your patients are gonna feel like people are listening to them.

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Practical characteristics. Not only did some females in this study relate to the conceptual female-friendly characteristics, but also made it clear that they specifically chose their specialty based on the hours. R1 comments on the female-friendly characteristics in terms of hours that HIV medicine affords women: I’ve been working in the HIV field, and that’s an area particularly prone to drawing women – I think through the hours – you know – where you don’t have time to work overtime, so I actually work with a lot of female doctors.

R2 with reference to the specialty of radiation oncology, asserts that it gave her more predictable hours, making it easier for her to manage her family commitments and responsibilities: I’d originally wanted to do Paediatrics, that was completely unrealistic with the family.

Showing her own personal conflict in her specialty choice, R6 reflects the impracticality of her chosen specialty with child-rearing pressures: If I were to think right now about having a child or adopting a child, I have an immense sense of guilt around the fact that I barely get home at 10 o’clock to feed the fish and the cat, let alone still be part of someone’s life.

Based on the so-called male characteristics Interestingly, this section shows that some of the women in the study, however, identified positively with a male gendered-work identity, although they were practising in a so-called soft specialism. Conceptual understanding and practical characteristics. Even though a specialisation might have been deemed female friendly, some female doctors might enter it for characteristics or aspects traditionally associated with males. As R5’s responses indicate, she identified and was drawn into the specialty because of the more clinical and technical aspects of the specialism: . . . what I really enjoy, is the surgical side of the work, like the radical cancer surgery, and that sort of thing. I like, if it’s broken, I want to be able to fix it, I almost did Orthopaedics at one stage, but it’s nice to be able to say, O good, we’ve removed that tumour, and the person’s got better. And done something good, you know, something useful . . . It is for me, it isn’t for people like Psychiatrists, and people who are doing, general physicians, they have to be much more accepting of the fact that they can often help and relieve, but they can seldom cure. And that doesn’t work so well for me, so that is why I want to be able to cut people open and sort them out – you know?

R5 also notes the tendency of people sometimes just wanting to listen, and because she in general identifies more with the technical and clinical aspects of her specialty, this actually can be problematic for her: . . . sometimes it’s a problem for me, because I’m, sometimes when people just plain want to talk, and they just want someone to listen, and I’m immediately thinking – now how can we fix this? I’ve had to learn, you know, over the years, sometimes they just want you to listen.

Conceptual understanding. Furthermore, R4 indicates her liking and even admiring the so-called male characteristics of surgery, and her complete rejection of the so-called female specialisation of obstetrics and gynaecology:

I didn’t enjoy Obstetrics and Gynaecology, I didn’t mind Gynae, but I didn’t like Obstetrics, it wasn’t just – so, I’m not a great cutter, so I didn’t enjoy – I enjoyed Surgery, but for the Surgeons the, the mentality of the Surgeon. I enjoyed rather than the actual cutting process – well I just found the Surgeon as a very cut and dry person, he’s black and white – so there’s no sort-off wasting time, I liked them, I liked their humour, I just liked being, the Surgeons were great fun to be with, and I was allowed to do medicine, they did all the cutting and I ran the ward, so I was happy.

Even within specialisation, there are still gender appropriate roles re-enacted. Reflecting on the gender segregation that can still occur within a specialism as well, R6 reports that: GPs will send you the nutcase, they will send you the one who has discharges that’s bothering her, that has libido issues, but they won’t send you the one that has the huge uterus, because the boys need to get that. So the boys get the operational things, they get the hands on things, and for example, what I noticed, and that I do think is linked to men and women, is honestly, is the golf course politics” (here referring to the male networking practices, which excludes women)

Implications Research aiming at a better understanding of the factors impacting on the continued gender segregation we see in medicine has practical, social and economic implications (see also Kilminster et al., 2007). The practical implications are evident in that a better understanding of the relevance of perceived gendered work identities for specialisation preferences, has the potential to impact better retention and recruitment (Maiorova et al., 2008). In a country where we are faced with severe shortages of health care practitioners, it is important to understand their motivations to enter certain areas within a profession, so that we can create the conditions under which to optimally recruit and retain them. The social implication is also important, as unchallenged gendered trends serve to perpetuate gender unequal outcomes in the wider society, which can be constraining or discriminatory. Lastly, an aspect which is not always considered is the fact that gender inequality in the workplace and professions has a potentially negative impact for the economy as inequality negatively impacts on productivity and is thus economically inefficient (Cavalcanti and Tavares, 2007). Conclusions Analysis of these interviews with six women specialists suggest that doctor’s choices of specialism cannot be explained in dichotomous terms (i.e. that female doctors choose specialisms specifically because of the female or male characteristics associated with that specialism and vice versa). As shown in the paper, female specialists in these so-called softer specialisms can identify with both male and female characteristics of a specialism, and the ambivalence in their answers suggests that work identities that may in the past have been seen as fairly constant is definitely changing in the South African context. In support, Maiorova et al. (2008, p. 554) also asserts in their study on the impact of clerkship on student’s specialty preferences that “gender differences regarding career choice appear to be not only based on typical male and female choices”. This confirms assertions by others (Williams, 1999; Lester, 2008, Wildschut, 2008a). It suggests that the reasons women enter these specialities, are not specifically, or exclusively related to the gender appropriate characteristics inherent in that specialty.

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Thus, simplistic assertions around motivations are proving inadequate to explain women’s specialisation preferences in the present time. These findings, although based on small sample, suggests that the past assumptions around gender segregation being an outcome of gender-appropriate preferences would not hold in these cases, and we need to consider its future relevance for explaining women’s specialisation choices.

64 Note 1. In short, purposive sampling is best used with small numbers of individuals/groups which may well be sufficient for understanding human perceptions, problems, needs, behaviors and contexts, which are the main justification for a qualitative audience research.

References Abrahamsson, L. (2006), “Exploring construction of gendered identities at work”, in Billett, S., Fenwick, T. and Somerville, M. (Eds), Work, Subjectivity and Learning, Springer, New York, NY, pp. 105-21. Adams, T.L. (2005), “Feminization of professions: the case of women in dentistry”, Canadian Journal of Sociology, Vol. 30 No. 1, pp. 71-94. Armstrong, P. and Armstrong, H. (1992), “Sex and professions in Canada”, Journal of Canadian Studies, Vol. 27 No. 1, pp. 118-35. Barnett, R.C., Gareis, K.C. and Carr, P.L. (2005), “Career satisfaction and retention of a sample of women physicians who work reduced hours”, Journal of Women’s Health, Vol. 14 No. 2, pp. 146-53. Breier, M. and Wildschut, A. (2006), “Doctors in a divided society: the profession and education of medical practitioners in South Africa”, HSRC Research Monograph, HSRC Press, Cape Town. Brink, A.J., Bradshaw, D., Benade, M.M.M. and Heath, S. (1991), “Women doctors in South Africa”, South African Medical Journal, 7 December. Cavalcanti, T.V. and Tavares, J. (2007), “Gender discrimination lowers output per capita (a lot)”. 16 October, available at: www.voxeu.org/index.php?q¼node/627 (accessed 17 November 2008). CEJA (1993), "Gender discrimination in the medical profession”, Report G-A-93, Council on Ethical and Judicial Affairs (CEJA), available at: www.ama-assn.org/ Chiu, C. and Leicht, K.T. (1999), “When does feminization increase equality? The case of lawyers”, Law & Society Review, Vol. 33 No. 3, pp. 557-93. Crompton, R. and Le Feuvre, N. (2003), “Continuity and change in the gender segregation of the medical profession in Britain and France”, International Journal of Sociology and Social Policy, Vol. 23 Nos 4/5, pp. 36-58. Davies, C. (1996), “The sociology of professions and the profession of gender”, Sociology, Vol. 30 No. 4, pp. 661-78. Dedobbeleer, N., Contandriopoulos, A. and Desjardins, S. (1995), “Convergence or divergence of male and female physicians’ hours of work and income”, Medical Care, Vol. 33 No. 8, pp. 796-805. Fenwick, T. (2001), “Tides of change: new themes and questions in workplace learning”, New Directions for Adult and Continuing Education, Vol. 92, pp. 3-18.

Gjerberg, E. (2001), “Medical women – towards full integration? An analysis of the specialty choices made by two cohorts of Norwegian doctors”, Social Science and Medicine, Vol. 52, pp. 331-43. Gjerberg, E. (2002), “Gender similarities in doctors’ preferences – and gender differences in final specialisation”, Social Science and Medicine, Vol. 54, pp. 591-605. Harden, J. (2001), “‘Mother Russia’ at work: gender division in the medical profession”, The European Journal of Women’s Studies, Vol. 8 No. 2, pp. 181-99. Health Professions Council of South Africa (2002-2006), “Statistics on registered medical practitioners”, HPCSA, Cape Town, supplied on request. Health Professions Council of South Africa (2008), “Statistics on registered medical practitioners”, HPCSA, Cape Town, supplied on request. Hinze, S. (1999), “Gender and the body of medicine or at least some body parts: reconstructing the prestige hierarchy of medical specialities”, The Sociological Quarterly, Vol. 40 No. 2, pp. 217-39. Hudson, C.P., Kane-Berman, J. and Hickman, R. (1997), “Women in medicine: a literature review 1985-1996”, SAMJ, Vol. 87 No. 11, pp. 1512-17. Jovic, E., Wallace, J.E. and Lemaire, J. (2006), “The generation and gender shifts in medicine: an exploratory survey of internal medicine physicians”, BMC Health Services Research, Vol. 6, p. 55. Kilminster, S., Downes, J., Gough, B., Murdoch-Eaton, D. and Roberts, T. (2007), “Women in medicine – is there a problem? A literature review of the changing gender composition, structures and occupational cultures in medicine”, Medical Education, Vol. 41, pp. 39-49. Kotulak, R. (2005), “Increase in women doctors changing the face of medicine”, Chicago Tribune, 12 January. Lester, J. (2008), “Performing gender in the workplace: gender socialisation, power, and identity among women faculty members”, Community College Review, No. 35, pp. 277-304. Levinson, W. and Lurie, N. (2004), “When most doctors are women: what lies ahead?”, Annals of Internal Medicine, Vol. 141, pp. 471-4. Loudon, R. (1999), “Sex and medicine: gender, power and authority in the medical profession”, Book Review, Family Practice, Vol. 16 No. 3, p. 322. Maiorova, T., Stevens, F., Scherpbier, A. and Van Der Zee, J. (2008), “The impact of clerkships on students’ specialty preferences: what do undergraduates learn for their profession?”, Medical Education, Vol. 42, pp. 554-62. Reskin, B. (1993), “Sex segregation in the workplace”, Annual Review of Sociology, Vol. 19, pp. 214-70. Reskin, B. and Roos, P. (1990), Job Queues, Gender Queues: Explaining Women’s Inroads into Male Occupations, Temple University Press, Philadelphia, PA. Riska, E. (2001), “Towards gender balance: but will women physicians have an impact on medicine?”, Social Science and Medicine, Vol. 52, pp. 179-87. Searle, J. (2001), “Women in medicine – a new paradigm”, Medical Education, Vol. 35, pp. 718-19. Shields, M. and Shields, M. (2003), “Working with generation X physicians”, Physician Executive, Vol. 29, pp. 14-18. Tanner, J. and Cockerill, R. (1996), “Gender, social change and the professions: the case of pharmacy”, Sociological Forum, Vol. 11 No. 4, pp. 643-60. Thorne, M. (2004), “Finding balance”, Journal of the Canadian Association of Emergency Physicians, Vol. 6 No. 6, p. 447.

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Walker, L. (1997), “Since male doctors were pushing us aside, we had to elbow our way through”, South African Medical Journal, Vol. 87 No. 11, pp. 1505-7. Walker, L. (2003), “They heal in the spirit of the mother: gender, race and professionalisation of South African medical women”, African Studies, Vol. 62 No. 1, pp. 99-123. Walker, L. (2005), “The colour white: racial and gendered closure in the South African medical profession”, Ethnic and Racial Studies, Vol. 28 No. 2, pp. 348-75. Wildschut, A. (2008a), “Engendering gender equality in professional employment: can policy rise to the occasion?”, Agenda, Vol. 78, pp. 93-104. Wildschut, A. (2008b), “Motivating for a gendered analysis of trends within South African medical schools and the profession”, South African Journal of Higher Education, Vol. 22 No. 4, pp. 920-32. Williams, A.P. (1999), “Changing the palace guard: analysing the impact of women’s entry into medicine”, Gender, Work and Organisation, Vol. 6 No. 2, pp. 106-21. Wright, R. and Jacobs, J. (1994), “Male flight from computer work: a new look at occupational resegregation and ghettoization”, American Sociological Review, Vol. 59 No. 4, pp. 511-36. Further reading Buche, M. (2008), “Influence of gender on IT professional work identity: outcomes from a PLS study”, Proceedings of the 2008 ACM SIGMIS CPR Conference on Computer Personnel Doctoral Consortium and Research, Association for Computing Machinery (ACM), pp. 134-40. Hay, H.R. and Jama, M.P. (2004), “Changing trends in the performance of medical students: a case study”, South African Journal of Higher Education, Vol. 18 No. 2, pp. 233-49. McMurray, J.E., Graham, A., Cohen, M., Gavel, P., Harding, J., Horvath, J., Paices, E. and Schmittdiel, J. (2002), “Women in medicine: a four-nation comparison”, Journal of the American Medical Women’s Association, Vol. 57 No. 4, pp. 185-90. Unterhalter, B. (1985), “Discrimination against women in the South African medical profession”, Social Science & Medicine, Vol. 20 No. 12, pp. 1253-8. Wynchank, S. (n.d.), “Women medical doctors in South Africa: transcultural and other influences before, during and after apartheid”, available at: www2.univ-reunion.fr/ageof (accessed 1 November 2004). About the author Angelique Wildschut is a researcher in the Education, Science and Skills Development research programme. She obtained both a BA in industrial psychology, and an MPhil in political management from the University of Stellenbosch. Before joining the HSRC in July 2004, she was an intern at the Public Education Office of Parliament (PEO) in Cape Town. During her work at the PEO she was involved in setting up and maintaining databases, and providing research support to promote public understanding and participation in parliamentary processes. Her areas of research interest include gender disparities and inequalities, and women’s political behaviour, with special emphasis on how gender socialisation pervades all aspects of behaviour and how this permeates to override many social advances, and therefore often still renders women in a disadvantaged position in relation to their male counterparts. Angelique Wildschut can be contacted at: [email protected]

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University teachers’ intentions for introductory professional classes Anna Reid and Peter Petocz

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Macquarie University, Marsfield, Australia, and

Sue Gordon The University of Sydney, Sydney, Australia Abstract Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to investigate ways in which university students are introduced to disciplines and thence to the professions based on those disciplines. Design/methodology/approach – E-mail interviews with a broad sample of university teachers in a variety of professional disciplines formed the basis of a grounded theory approach to identification of analytically distinct themes. Findings – Four different approaches were identified from the interview data, labelled as academic, apprenticeship, affective, and experiential. While these themes represent distinct approaches to introductory classes in professional fields, and have been described independently in the paper, in practice most teachers would use combinations of them. Research limitations/implications – The research represents a first stage in investigating approaches to introducing students to a discipline and profession. No claim is made to randomness, completeness or representativeness of the sample, which indeed was heavily based on colleagues in the broad area of pedagogy and teacher preparation. Practical implications – Teachers of introductory classes in professional disciplines can recognise their own approaches in the themes identified, and can consider a broader range of approaches based on the complete results. Workplace supervisors can consider diverse approaches utilised in academic settings. Social implications – Findings can contribute towards an awareness of the effect of introductory approaches to disciplines and professions in university classes, with potential implications for the way that university-trained professionals are accepted into the workplace. Originality/value – The research, unusually, shifts the focus from the end stage of professional education at university to the initial level. The investigation may form the basis of further research. Keywords Professional education, Expectation, Interviews Paper type Research paper

1. Introduction and background University teaching in professional fields can have a major impact on students’ understandings of their field and their future work. While research often looks at the outcomes of formal learning – from assessment achievement to employment, for instance – it is rare to explore the way that students are first introduced to a discipline area. We conjecture that such introductions make an important contribution to students’ knowledge and professional expectations. To explore this issue, we interviewed university teachers from a variety of professional areas to investigate how they go about introducing their particular discipline. What are teachers’ aims and what do they do in their first classes? How does teaching convey messages about what

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teachers see as important for an introductory subject? An analysis of responses indicates that a form of professional modelling may give students indications of how their teachers conceive of the profession. The findings provide a key to best practices, illustrate pedagogical and ethical tensions, and point out the importance for teachers of introductory classes of modelling for a future profession. University students build up their knowledge of their future professional area through participation in their university courses. This is added to their previous interactions with family and friends, and (increasingly) with information from a variety of popular media (TV shows, YouTube, Facebook, Blogs, etc.). Together, these sources contribute to students’ overall expectations for their future professional work (Abrandt Dahlgren et al., 2008). Research on work-based learning, where students are workers first and learners second, has shown that such students focus on the constraints and opportunities provided by the workplace to orient their learning (Garrick and Rhodes, 2000). It seems that students who are workers see that learning contributes to their effectiveness at work and enhances their job satisfaction, and, hence, professional knowledge and action are immediately relevant. For those university students in professional disciplines who are not already working there is only the anticipation of their future profession, and in this their university teachers can play an important role. Martin et al. (2003) suggest that teachers’ success with introducing students to learning is related to their ability to situate the important aspects of their subject within the field as a whole, including the profession itself. This finding suggests that there are teachers who can do this well, if they do see their subject as a part of a broader field, and hints that the converse may also be true. Of course, this has implications for students, who must attempt to situate each unit of study within an entire program, accommodate different teaching approaches and styles, constitute their own understanding of the subject (which may change as they become aware of a range of different ways of experiencing the subject) and then relate all of these experiences to perceptions of their future work. In this study, we are aiming to investigate the ways in which university teachers can introduce their discipline effectively to their students. Among the important influences for students’ developing awareness of their future professional field are their early encounters with teacher/professionals (Petocz and Reid, 2001). Wenger suggests that people’s membership of multiple communities embraces and synthesises such projections (Wenger, 1998, p. 105). In this sense, students within university environments participate in activities (learning and social) that involve interactions with peers, teachers and literature, and that contribute to a form of reification involving the projection of themselves as future practitioners within a field. Within this complex “multimembership nexus of perspective”, the teacher’s role is critical in presenting the professional field in the context of the first classes. Indeed, Goodson (2003, p. 52) indicates that “the daily work of teachers is politically and socially constructed. The parameters of what constitutes practice, whether biographical or political, range over a wide terrain” and this terrain includes “professional and micro-political knowledge”. Teachers’ awareness itself emerges through experience and participation in specific, cultural activities (Gordon and Fittler, 2004). How teachers understand professionalism, professional knowledge, teaching, learning and society constitutes the means through which they present their embodied knowledge to their learning community; in other words, how they model professional practice.

Teachers’ experience and knowledge of their professions and professional work becomes something that they can convey to their students (Reid and Davies, 2003). The ways in which professionals act is mirrored in the ways in which teachers work with a class: their professional knowledge becomes part of the content that is presented. For instance, the manner in which professionals engage with each other at work becomes a model for students engaging in group work or problem-based learning. These sorts of proto-professional practices require substantial judgements on the part of teachers. Beckett and Hager (2002, p. 11) describe this sort of action as “organic learning” where “particular work-based practices arise in the freedom to discriminate appropriately in the midst of flux”. The question that arises when exploring the space between formal studies and beginning professional work is: how do university teachers relate and model their professional knowledge and practice in formal pre-professional situations? 2. The project Our project aimed to investigate educators’ approaches to teaching at university in a diverse array of fields and disciplines. These include professional areas such as teacher education, accounting and engineering as well as disciplines underpinning professional knowledge, such as statistics, marketing and mathematics. We focused our study on views about teaching and learning subjects at the introductory or first-course level (whether undergraduate or postgraduate). At this level, expert knowledge and application of effective pedagogy could have considerable impact. Students are being inducted into a discipline, and thence into a profession. Their introduction to a field of study has the potential to inspire curiosity and to motivate students to continue learning in that field. Participation in the project was invited through educational research associations such as the Australian Association for Research in Education, international electronic networks, such as the Improving Student Learning electronic discussion group, faculty Bulletin Boards and professional networks. All participants gave written, informed consent. The aim of our recruiting was to gather a wide variety of views from a diverse range of disciplines that had a professional focus. We make no claims to a random or even a representative sample. Rather, we have sampled a broad field of experience of university teachers who are preparing students for professional practice. The data collection was through asynchronous interviews by e-mail – a methodology utilised in a previous project by the researchers (Gordon et al., 2007, and critiqued in Reid et al., 2008). The interview protocol consisted of an initial series of six questions, reflecting our research focus on educators’ approaches to teaching and learning in their area of specialisation. After studying the initial reply, we sent a second interview with questions following up and probing each participant’s responses. In most cases, a third interview was sent with further questions to elicit clarification and in-depth explanations of the previous responses. The initial questions included one on the specifics of the educators’ backgrounds: (1) What type of department and institution do you teach in? (2) What discipline area(s) do you teach? (3) What introductory subjects do you teach? All other questions were posed in a deliberately open way to enable the participants to put forward their own ideas without being led by the researchers. These questions

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explored educators’ teaching philosophies and ideas on effective approaches, challenges and/or opportunities they encountered as well as the impact of student diversity on their teaching. One of these questions is the particular focus of this paper: How do you go about introducing students to your discipline area? The follow-up questions explored the thread of thought that was prompted by the original question and so depended on the individual response. Some examples are: (1) Why do you feel group work is important in engineering? (2) Could you give an example of a recent activity that you felt worked well? (3) What are the pedagogical issues that are particularly important in teaching literacy for teachers? (4) Why are case studies useful in accounting, and what do students learn from them? A total of 34 participants completed the e-interviews before our cut-off date. Most of these (20) were from Australian universities, seven worked in the various countries of the UK, while the others worked in tertiary institutions in New Zealand (two), Canada, Pakistan, South Africa, United Arab Emirates and the USA. The majority of our respondents (22) were in the broad area of pedagogy, including early childhood education, indigenous education, primary education, secondary education (with a range of disciplines including visual arts, environment, psychology, IT, science and language) and adult professional education; this is most likely a consequence of the locations in which we advertised our project. However, other participants (12) covered a diverse range of disciplines, including engineering, mathematics and statistics, business, management, accounting and nursing. We approached the analysis of the data using a modified constant comparison method. This method, originally identified as an analytic tool for use in grounded theory development (Glaser and Strauss, 1967) provided us with a framework to consider the issues emerging from interviews as the interview processes were underway. We reflected on the answers to our questions, given by each of the respondents from the various professional areas and disciplines, comparing the responses from each new interview with the previous ones, and started to develop provisional ideas (Boeije, 2002). Participants’ narratives and responses were examined and analysed looking for variation and commonality between the meaning in each response, in attitude to students, to the professions, to teaching in the introductory classes and so on. Using this approach we were able to compare developing categories, observe possible intersections between them, and finally develop theory. In this research we found a reasonably homogeneous sample, in that they were all teachers of introductory classes and hence shared a commonality of experience. Heterogeneity was provided by the professional discipline that was introduced. We were then able to discern common concepts and the differences between them. The homogenous component will also enable claims to be made regarding the generalisability of the research outcomes. 3. Results Four themes emerged in answer to the question: How do you go about introducing students to your discipline area? First, an academic theme, where teachers focus on

discipline knowledge, sometimes using unit outlines as a catalyst, while introducing the language, ideas and representations underpinning academic discourse within the disciplinary area. Second, an apprenticeship theme, where teachers aim to give students practical experiences and understandings relating to their future practice. Here teachers identify skills, resources and activities that students could use in their future work and communication with other professionals. Third, an affective theme focuses on students’ themselves and interpersonal relationships, emphasising trust, anxiety reduction and engagement. In some cases, the affective theme includes physical activities, such as juggling, in the first class, intended to provide metaphors for how to approach learning in an unfamiliar area. A fourth theme may be described as experiential, where students’ previous impressions of the discipline or professional area are explored: this emphasises the diversity found in students’ backgrounds and life experiences. These themes are developed below with quotes taken from participants’ interviews. To make transparent the process of reporting in this qualitative study, the quotes represent the data from which the themes were developed. Hence, we have included a number of them, some fairly extensive. The pseudonyms used were chosen by participants themselves (and are not always what we might think of as “names”). Respondents in many cases gave answers at various points of the e-interview that fitted into different themes. We wish to emphasise that we are not attempting to categorise individual participants by their approaches to teaching introductory subjects, nor are we suggesting that the themes we have identified are independent. Rather, we aim to separate the themes analytically and to highlight how different philosophical approaches can be manifested in such teaching, before illustrating the way in which the various themes and approaches are inter-dependent and can be combined in practice. 3.1 Academic theme The essential features of this theme are illustrated by quotes from Grace, whose discipline is teaching method for commerce, business studies and economics, and from Audrey, who focuses on integrating IT into education. Most of the attention of the introductory classes is on the theoretical discipline knowledge and the language and terminology of the discipline, based on the (usually written) course materials such as the outline and summaries of theories: Grace: I start my first session in each of the sub-courses by going through the course outline and talking about the scope and sequence of the sessions and discussing the assessment requirements for the course. This provides some sense of direction for the students. Audrey: We introduce them to the key theories and practices relevant to the discipline and at the same time provide plenty of real life examples (eg. classroom examples and examples from current research). The aim is to bring them into contact with the terminology and practices of the discipline with which very few are familiar in an academic/intellectual sense. There is also a significant hands-on component to develop students’ IT skills.

Coffee, who teaches introductory accounting, expands on the use of examples in such an approach, and acknowledges that despite the presentation of academic background, the role of the lecture is focused on stimulation and motivation of students:

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Coffee: Covered in first two lectures where I introduce what accounting is and why it’s important, highlighting news making current issues. /. . ./ Generally gets their attention and interest although it is always amazing how little some students know about current business issues considering they are studying a business related degree. /. . ./ Students should be able to learn most things outside of the lecture theatre. As a result I think the lecture is used to stimulate interest and motivation and to direct students to find information to back up their study.

In the context of English and media studies in a faculty of education, Cleopat57 gives a more detailed outline of the academic approach: Cleopat57: In Orientation week we have a session where I talk about the English strand and how it is situated in their program as a whole and links between the courses and commonalities such as emphasis on writing skills, the importance of the readings etc. /. . ./ The course is planned so that there are explicit links between the lecture, the set readings, the tutorial activities, and the assignments. We ask the students to define, explain and apply to an example a list of key concepts from the lecture & readings each week before they come to class so that reading the material is not a passive task.

All these statements indicate that a primary focus of the introductory classes is the academic discipline itself. 3.2 Apprenticeship theme In this approach, the intention of the introductory classes is to enable students to gain practical experience and the understanding of future professional practice, while identifying the component skills and resources that students could use in their future professional work. Cities, a teacher of engineering, expresses the idea concisely, while Rfp, also in the engineering discipline gives another view of the approach for the subjects “Design studies” and “Structural form and behaviour”: Cities: Focus the learning around a practical project. Engineering is a skills based course, and many skills are generic to any work they may get. /. . ./ We give them examples of solutions to part of their project, and work through them to show them “how experts do it”. Then they need to try it themselves. That is, we always scaffold, then remove the scaffolding slowly. Rfp: The thinking is that to become an engineer, you have to actually do it, and not just read about it, or listen to someone theorising about it. Also I noticed that the best student work arose out of project work, and so I embarked on a programme of reducing the numbers of lectures I deliver, and concentrating on the students’ learning, in the form of project work of some sort or another. For engineering, the project work is best in the “design-build-and-test” projects, because students are then taking real responsibility for the outcomes, and this is where learning is most likely to take place. /. . ./ “Structural Form and Behaviour” has lectures but is also characterised by having embedded activities included, culminating in a model bridge “competition” in week 6. The competition is not really competitive but cooperative in small groups, and is the real focus of the first six weeks work.

The apprenticeship approach has a special role in education courses, where the students can be encouraged to switch between their roles as students (in the present) and teachers (in their future professional work). The following quote from Grace, who teaches prospective commerce teachers, illustrates this dichotomy: Grace: Given that my students are learning about being teachers, the methodology that I use is particularly important. Throughout the sessions, I try to deliver content whilst also

modelling teaching strategies for use in the classroom. /. . ./ Often in teacher education we describe classroom strategies, but by running sessions this way, the participants are able to see how to run a class and also to feel what it is like to participate in those type of lessons. They report a high value to them in this type of session. /. . ./ It also assists students to see that how they run their classes needs to be more about what their students are doing than what they are doing. This can be difficult for early career teachers who are focused on their own performance.

James, a teacher of environmental education sounds a note of caution about providing students with simple and decontextualised teaching ideas and activities. James: Some of the students want a grab bag of teaching ideas, and I explain that that’s not the most useful for them /. . ./ just keep reminding them that it’s important for them to be able to do more than mimic some decontextualised “good ideas”. (Inverted commas around “good ideas” to highlight their subjective and contested nature.)

These quotations from the disciplines of engineering and education indicate that the teaching approach in the introductory classes is centred on the students’ future performances as professionals. 3.3 Affective theme The main feature of this approach is a recognition that introductory classes need to address a range of personal and interpersonal aspects of the students as they actually are at the beginning of the course of study. Klauss illustrates this approach with an example about the emotive issue of psychological bullying, in this case in the discipline of visual arts: Klauss: I have also had people in tears because they have been “bullied” or excluded . . . we have tried to turn these into positives . . . one girl was bullied and I let her change groups and they ended up using bullying as a theme and expressing it visually. They then had their work (which was very obviously about bullying but not representative of the bullies) exhibited for all to see. The group who represented bullying visually felt that they got a lot from making the work and resolved some issues for themselves . . . the bullies may or may not have realised the significance!

Dolphin, from South Africa, suggests an affective approach to introductory classes that resonates with her academic discipline area: Dolphin: Since my area of Life Orientation and Inclusive Education is all about people and their needs I start by telling real life stories and then go to the theory with continuous reference to the practice. /. . ./ Although we live in a rainbow country with many cultures we tend to stay in a comfort zone. This means that we are friendly with all cultures, chat with them and so on, but we do not make serious attempts to get to know cultural ways of living. When students start chatting about it, it removes stereotypes and encourages respect and understanding. In an inclusive lecture having real people or video clips of disabilities open their minds to see that these are normal people/ children who experience problems as we are all people with different problems. They are not the disability or the problem.

Mahra works in the United Arab Emirates teaching primary education classes to female students. Though her context may be unusual, her approach to introducing her discipline illustrates common aspects of the affective approach: Mahra: Gaining students’ trust is an important first step, as is enabling them to feel comfortable working with each other. I spend the first two weeks of the course introducing

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the content via the course outline – a “big picture” approach that skims the whole course. I briefly introduce key concepts and theorists, and break each 75-minute class up with frequent introductory icebreakers that enable the students to laugh and socialize together, begin to practice their English, and to learn that mistakes with English are opportunities for learning, not to punish. I usually participate in the icebreakers, which quickly breaks down barriers.

In some cases, the affective approach includes physical aspects that are intended to provide students with an insight into learning in an area about which they may know little. Here is the unusual way that Jazmin introduces her class to the part that assessment will play in their Biology course: Jazmin: I ask them to learn to juggle three balls. If no-one has already asked (and no-one ever has!), after 10 minutes we stop to discuss: criteria (what counts as “successful juggling” for example); who will judge their performance (tutor or the group?); How long have they got to learn? How many attempts are allowed? Etc. That is, we discuss everything about module assessment regulations. /. . ./ Students had to agree among themselves what would constitute a “pass” for the juggling test; for example, juggling is defined as a physical human skill involving the movement of objects, usually through the air, for entertainment (http://en. wikipedia.org/wiki/Juggling). We discuss if it means three or more balls. Is tossing one ball juggling? How do we judge “entertainment”? Since it was always entertaining, everyone passed, which is always a good start. Success breeds success.

The statements displayed above all indicate that the primary focus of the introductory classes is the students themselves in their role as learners, and particularly the affective aspects of this role. 3.4 Experiential theme In the experiential approach, introductory classes are built on students’ previous experiences or impressions of a particular discipline or profession, and the diversity of such experiences is utilised as a resource for introducing the discipline to the class. This approach seems particularly apt for classes of university students training to be school teachers, as Blondie illustrates in her discipline of primary education: Blondie: In tutorials I like to begin by having students reflect on their own experiences with education, at primary, secondary and tertiary levels. I have them identify memorable experiences (good and bad) so that we can identify common aspects. /. . ./ In one tutorial I ask students to relay a memorable teaching experience. We then deconstruct each of these experiences to determine which specific features made them effective, and link these to relevant elements from the Quality Teaching Model. In this way we use students’ lived experiences to go from the specific practice to the general theory.

Elaine teaches (Australian) Indigenous students who are specialising in early childhood education and draws on diverse cultural values and understandings as part of her pedagogy: Elaine: The key strategy has been to enable students to study while remaining connected to their community, affirming their cultural position and making meaning across different ways of knowing. /. . ./ The “both-ways” position recognizes that Western and Indigenous ways of seeing the world are profoundly different and this applies across key metaphysical, ontological, epistemological, and theoretical frameworks. Each has its own view of land and country, family, time, economy, obligation, power, representation and history, and its own voice and language with which to tell the tale. /. . ./ One project students have done is interviewing local elders about how children develop, as individual projects done by each

student, and then info is pooled, compared and contrasted at next workshop with western theories about development.

In some cases, rather than drawing on a prior activity or involvement, relevant experiences are arranged as part of the introductory classes themselves. Crow illustrates this in a compelling approach to teaching aspects of nursing: Crow: Last year I did pre-operative coughing and breathing exercises in the lecture. A couple of students became light headed which was a good example for others as this often happens to patients. I mostly use experiential learning methods and try to always give a contextual overview first (Ausubel’s advance organiser theory) so they understand how the content relates to the bigger picture of their degree and being an RN [Registered Nurse]. /. . ./ Sometimes we get students to ‘take on a condition’ and ‘make out’ they are living with it for a week or two. They keep a reflective journal during the experience which is a very powerful exercise in understanding the lives and issues for their patients.

These quotations indicate that the primary focus of the experiential approach is on the previous experiences that students bring to their study of a particular discipline or on experiences that they gather as participants in the classes. 4. Discussion The first point that arises from examination of the interviews is that our participants evidently view their approaches to introducing their field or discipline as important and reflect on them seriously. Further, these approaches seem to make explicit or implicit connection with their students’ future professional work. Most teachers we interviewed demonstrated awareness of the need to address the professional preparation of their students as one component of their introductory classes. This is particularly clear in the transcripts of respondents in the field of education. But the focus on future professional work is not limited to education: in every discipline there is the potential to create links to a future work or professional situation, and most of our respondents talk about taking advantage of this potential to add relevance and authenticity to their classes. In describing how they introduce their subjects, our respondents highlighted different centralities in their approaches, each of which seems to represent a potentially important component of preparing students for a professional discipline. The four themes we identified also suggest pedagogical challenges and tensions. One tension that emerged is between teachers’ desires to engage immediately with presenting the important disciplinary knowledge and their desire to ensure that students are aware of the role of such knowledge in their future professions. This is not only an ethical tension, but also a practical one. If discipline knowledge is presented without context and motivation, students could experience this as “ritual” knowledge (Dahlgren et al., 2007), as opposed to the “rational” knowledge of substantive issues and generic skills that are clearly situated within or even beyond a particular discipline. Some of the particular activities that our respondent teachers focused on, such as telling stories about their own lives (Dolphin’s quote) or juggling in the context of introductory biology (Jazmin’s quote), may not directly advance students’ discipline knowledge. However, they may be powerful motivators of learning, nurture the students’ “will to learn” (Barnett, 2007), and hence contribute to professional preparation in a different and important way.

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A further pedagogical challenge highlighted by our respondent teachers is the need to bridge the gap between students’ experiences of a profession as consumers (for example, of schooling) and academic study (of pedagogy, in this case). One of our respondents, Marketing Guru, makes a clear distinction between informal knowledge and knowledge gained in the academic context through teaching in his field of marketing: Marketing Guru: Marketing may be much more challenging to teach than outsiders may believe. Because we are all consumers, we all believe we know Marketing, but there is much more to it! Understanding consumers’ needs and wants, understanding new trends, factoring in culture and a fast globalization may make this one of the most challenging disciplines.

A question suggested by our interviews is: to what extent are particular disciplines linked with particular introductory approaches? There is some evidence (Scott, 2006, p. 34) that different disciplines focus on different learning methods or approaches (for instance, team projects in management, practicums in education, and clinical placements in health), with each discipline using a relatively small number of the full range of different learning methods identified. Might this also be the case for approaches to introductory classes in each discipline? While there are some indications supporting this conjecture, our data involve too few interviews overall, and too few disciplines in any depth, to answer this question, and so it must await further study. Our study suggests directions for further research. In this project we interviewed teachers about their aims for their introductory classes. Participants indicated what motivates them to make decisions about the approaches that they utilise, and how they see the role of introductory classes. The notion of professional preparation is a common and recurring theme in their statements. The other side of the coin would be to interview students about their reactions to these approaches, and explore how students’ expectations for professional work are influenced by these early experiences. The approaches identified in this study all contribute to students’ professional preparation, and, to some extent, they address different aspects of such preparation. It is not surprising, then, that many teachers indicated that they combined more than one approach, showing the inter-dependence between them. Indeed, some went much further. One participant, Mary, teaches introductory statistics at the undergraduate level at an Australian university. Mary’s approach is summarised by these excerpts from a much longer interview: Mary: My first activity with the undergraduate students is to ask them to dance and I use this to introduce them to ideas related to learning, What, When, How and Why. The Why is then also related to the why of statistics – understanding variation. /. . ./ It was not until I introduced a learning to learn (stats) theme that I thought I had found a way of really connecting with the students and improving the experience. With the dance I am attempting to start the subject doing things out in left field. I want to take them by surprise and start with a focus on learning and writing, that then leads to a discussion of variability. /. . ./ I use this technique throughout session to introduce new topics to get them to think statistically, before I formalise the theory or process to be used.

Mary’s overall approach could be seen to illustrate a combination of all four themes that we have identified. First, she uses an experiential approach, asking students to dance, and giving students who have had no or limited previous experience an opportunity to remedy that lack. She is explicitly focusing on students’ learning to

learn, showing the affective theme. At the same time, she uses the variability in that learning to introduce a key idea of her discipline – statistics – which illustrates the academic theme. And finally she states that she uses this approach to provoke students to “think statistically”, a component of apprenticeship for their future profession, whether as statistician or user of statistical methods. Mary’s statement, and indeed her whole interview, indicates a strong commitment to modelling the profession of statistics for her introductory students. And she is by no means the only teacher in our sample who showed such a combination of approaches. Finally, how do university teachers relate and model their professional knowledge and practice in formal pre-professional situations? The quotes from the interviews demonstrate that many participants aim to provide a proto-professional experience for their students at university –experience that may be akin to the immediate relevance of learning at the workplace for people who are already participating in professional work. This is particularly evident in the apprenticeship theme, as illustrated by Rfp providing civil engineering students with early experiences of working on a team project, but all four themes contain aspects of this professional preparation. Professional modelling within university teaching can be both complex and rewarding. As summed up by Marketing Guru: There is no right or wrong (or not necessarily), so one really needs to know research findings and theory to be ahead of students. Lighting a fire in students for the world we live in and for marketing in particular is one of the biggest rewards one could ask for.

University teachers utilise the features of professional work and the anticipation of professional life as powerful motivators for their students’ learning. Correspondingly, learners and supervisors of learning who are already in the workplace could benefit by considering combinations of the approaches that academic teachers use in presenting their disciplines in university classes. References Abrandt Dahlgren, M., Reid, A., Dahlgren, L.O. and Petocz, P. (2008), “Learning for the professions: lessons from linking international research projects”, Higher Education, Vol. 56, pp. 129-48. Barnett, R. (2007), A Will to Learn: Being a Student in an Age of Uncertainty, Society for Research in Higher Education, Open University Press, Maidenhead. Beckett, D. and Hager, P. (2002), Life, Work and Learning: Practice in Postmodernity, Routledge, London. Boeije, H. (2002), “A purposeful approach to the constant comparative method in the analysis of qualitative interviews”, Quality and Quantity, Vol. 36, pp. 391-409. Dahlgren, L.O., Handal, G., Szkudlarek, T. and Bayer, M. (2007), “Students as journeymen between cultures of higher education and work. A comparative European project on the transition from higher education to worklife”, Higher Education in Europe, Vol. 32 No. 4, pp. 305-16. Garrick, J. and Rhodes, C. (Eds) (2000), Research and Knowledge at Work: Perspectives, Case-Studies and Innovative Strategies, Routledge, London. Glaser, B. and Strauss, A. (1967), The Discovery of Grounded Theory: Strategies for Qualitative Research, Aldine Press, Chicago, IL.

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Goodson, I. (2003), Professional Knowledge, Professional Lives, Open University Press, Philadelphia, PA. Gordon, S. and Fittler, K. (2004), “Learning by teaching: a cultural historical perspective on a teacher’s development”, Outlines, Vol. 6 No. 2, pp. 35-46. Gordon, S., Reid, A. and Petocz, P. (2007), “Teachers’ conceptions of teaching service statistics courses”, International Journal for the Scholarship of Teaching and Learning, Vol. 1 No. 1, available at: http://academics.georgiasouthern.edu/ijsotl/v1n1/gordon_et_al/IJ_Gordon_ et_all.pdf (accessed 25 September 2009). Martin, E., Prosser, M., Ramsden, P. and Trigwell, K. (2003), “The experience of research and its relationship to the experience of teaching”, paper presented at Improving Student Learning 11: Theory, Research and Scholarship, 1-3 September, Hinckley. Petocz, P. and Reid, A. (2001), “Students’ experience of learning in statistics”, Quaestiones Mathematicae, Vol. 1, Supplement, pp. 37-45. Reid, A. and Davies, A. (2003), “Teachers’ and students’ conceptions of the professional world”, in Rust, C. (Ed.), Improving Student Theory and Practice – 10 Years on, Oxford Brookes, pp. 88-98. Reid, A., Petocz, P. and Gordon, S. (2008), “Research interviews in cyberspace”, Qualitative Research Journal, Vol. 8 No. 1, pp. 47-61. Scott, G. (2006), “Accessing the student voice: using CEQuery to identify what retains students and promotes engagement in productive learning in Australian higher education”, available at: www.dest.gov.au/sectors/higher_education/publications_resources/profiles/ access_student_voice.htm (accessed 25 September 2009). Wenger, E. (1998), Communities of Practice: Learning, Meaning and Identity, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. About the authors Anna Reid is an Associate Professor in the Learning and Teaching Centre with specific responsibility for research development of staff and higher degree students. Her research focuses on the professional formation of students through their university studies. Anna Reid is the corresponding author and can be contacted at: [email protected] Peter Petocz is an Associate Professor in the Department of Statistics. His research interests include investigation of professional preparation and development of generic skills and dispositions in higher education, in statistics and other disciplines. Sue Gordon is a Senior Lecturer in the Mathematics Learning Centre and holds an honorary appointment in the Faculty of Education and Social Work, with research interests in statistics education, activity theory and quality of teaching, particularly at the introductory level of tertiary preparation for the professions.

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Formal adult learning and working in Europe: a new typology of participation patterns Gu¨nter Hefler and Jo¨rg Markowitsch

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Danube University, Krems, Austria Abstract Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to show how a typology of participating patterns is developed to deepen understanding of participation in formal adult education and the relationship between current workplace and educational programmes. Design/methodology/approach – The approach takes the form of conceptual work based on a qualitative analysis of 89 cases studies covering 113 participating employees in small and medium-sized enterprises in 12 European countries. Findings – Five main types of participation patterns in formal adult education are identified. When employed participants focus on their education, they may complete their formal programme (“Completing”), overrule an earlier decision to leave the educational system (“Returning”) or look for a starting-point to change their professional career (“Transforming”). When focusing on employment, employees may use formal adult education for “Reinforcing” their earlier career decisions. Here, four subtypes are proposed. Finally, employees may enjoy their studies for features not available at work (“Compensation”). Research limitations/implications – The typology was based on qualitative data; the sample does not claim to be representative. However, it could become the basis for a quantitative survey design. Practical implications – The typology is likely to be of value in a wide array of fields such as whether the employer organisation should offer support, or whether there should be an economic return to education. Originality/value – The typology builds on a life-cycle model and combines it with the relationship between the educational programme and the workplace. It is not restricted to certain groups of learners or formal programmes. Keywords Adult education, Workplace learning, Europe Paper type Research paper

1. Introduction In the European Union in 2003, 6.6 Million adults over 25 participated in formal adult education while in employment. Employed adults comprise over half of all participants in formal adult education. While participation rates seem low compared to non-formal adult education, over 30 percent of all course hours reported are in formal adult education. European statistics have little difficulty defining and counting formal adult education – in contrast to non-formal education and training and informal learning: The authors gratefully acknowledge the support of John Holford, who has read and commented on the text, and of Daniel Bacher, who has supported them in the empirical work for the sub-project, on which this paper is based. This paper was the winner of the Best Paper Award at the 6th International Conference on Researching Work and Learning, Denmark, June 2009.

Journal of Workplace Learning Vol. 22 No. 1/2, 2010 pp. 79-93 q Emerald Group Publishing Limited 1366-5626 DOI 10.1108/13665621011012870

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Formal education is defined as education provided in the system of schools, colleges, universities and other formal educational institutions that normally constitutes a continuous “ladder” of full-time education for children and young people, generally beginning at the age of five to seven and continuing to up to 20 or 25 years old (Eurostat, 2009).

However, while it is easy to demonstrate the numerical significance of formal adult education, the social realities behind the numbers are more difficult to interpret. Taken overall, formal adult education has been insufficiently studied – although, within the field, of course, specific areas have attracted attention. Among them, we find research on Second Chance Education (Hillmert and Jacob, 2008; Tosana, 2008), retraining (Wingens et al., 2000), or continuing higher education (Hanft and Knust, 2007). Furthermore, life course and adult development research (West et al., 2007; Friebel et al., 2000; Smith and Defrates-Densch, 2009) addresses the relationship between participation in formal education and paid work at particular points in the life course, most notably the transition from education to an individual’s professional career (Wolbers, 2003; Mortimer et al., 2006). Though informed by this work our aim is to develop a typology of patterns of participation which combines paid work and formal education. By reviewing typologies of participation in adult learning, (e.g. Houle, 1961; Boshier, 1991; Osborne et al. 2004; critically Rubenson, 2007), we find five limitations, shared by many typologies: (1) The very nature of educational programmes is seldom part of the study design. Even when a wide range of educational programmes is addressed, the relations between the kind of programme and motivation of adults are rarely discussed. (2) The importance of the participation as an event in the life course of a participant is rarely addressed explicitly. Participants in short courses and long programmes are often not classified differently. (3) The previous approaches do not take into consideration the relationship between the current educational programme and previous educational attainments. Therefore, the motivations expressed could not be explained against the backdrop of educational career and its socially predefined trajectories (Bourdieu, 1995). (4) Expanding the same argument, the typologies do not take life circumstances into consideration, in particular the actual work of an adult participant and his/her previous work experience do not play any role. (5) The position of the formal adult education within the individual life course, either as a continuing process of individual development facing challenges and involving a series of typical stages or as a process of social ageing, has hardly been taken into consideration. To address these shortcomings, we opt for an approach based on a life-cycle model, so that we classify the participation event according to the assumed meaning of “returning to learning” within the life course. We argue that a life-course approach is particularly useful for analysing formal adult education, where individuals decide to become intensively involved in learning for a significant period. After a brief outline of the empirical basis of our research (Section 2) we present examples of “participation patterns” to illustrate which aspects will be included in our

typology (Section 3). In Section 4, we develop the arguments used in our typology and construct nine different types. Then, in Section 5, we discuss these types, focussing on those we expect to be most fruitful for further research. Finally, Section 6 suggests how the typology can be used to analyse enterprises’ approaches to formal adult education and differences in the organisation of formal education between countries.

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2. Empirical basis and methodology used Revealing the significance, social reality and meaning of formal adult education in a comparative way is the aim of the project “Lifelong Learning 2010: Towards a Lifelong Learning Society in Europe: The contribution of the Education System”, coordinated by Ellu Saar (Institute for International and Social Studies, Tallinn University), funded within the European Union’s Sixth Framework Programme (see lll2010.tlu.ee). Within a sub project, teams from twelve countries (Austria, Belgium (Flanders), Bulgaria, England, Estonia, Hungary, Ireland, Lithuania, Norway, Russia, Scotland and Slovenia) provided case studies on the importance of formal adult education in Small and Medium Enterprises. Our analysis builds on these case studies as well as national reports based on the same material and prepared by the various national teams. For the case studies, members of the management and participants in formal adult education within selected SMEs were interviewed. Interviews were conducted by the local research teams in local languages. All interviews were transcribed. The selection of enterprises aimed at achieving the greatest variety of meaningful cases: participants engaged in education on different ISCED levels; representing a wide range of backgrounds (age, migration background, etc.). Enterprises selected and participants included are by no means representative for all enterprises or participants in formal adult education in one country or overall. Evidence was available for 113 participants of whom 41 percent are women and 59 percent men. The typology was constructed in three steps. In the first step, characteristics of 113 participation cases were labelled independently by two researchers, starting with a small list of basic categories, which was expanded during the screening process. Beside the characteristics of the individual, the job, the educational programme, information available on more recent career moves and overall intentions were taken into consideration. By this screening, an extensive list for possible dimensions of a typology was established. As second step, based on this pre-selection and on theoretical considerations, a typology was constructed, given priority to the significance of participation within the life course. Finally, as the typology focuses on employees’ participation, a more finely tuned analysis of purposeful ways of supporting workplace development by formal education was found desirable. In a third step, all cases were classified according to the typology.

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3. Patterns of participation in formal adult education To illustrate what we mean by patterns and to prepare a basis for a discussion of our typology we present examples from our case studies: . Borjana[1] from Bulgaria, in her late 20s, started to work for a chemical company with approximately 250 employees. She is involved in work preparation using advanced information technology. She has continued her histories studies and was hired on the condition that she was actually a full-time student; however, some compromises were made later. She needs her job to support herself, but

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there is no relation between her studies, her career intentions and her current job (case 10, participant 1). Kristina from Estonia, in her late 20s, works in the chemical industry for an enterprise with approximately 100 employees. She dropped out of technical education when she was much younger and has worked at various jobs which require no qualifications before starting at a business school on the lower secondary level. During her studies, she started her current job, having worked during a school internship in the same company. Since then, she has worked as a secretary, but she later decided to start a university course in business administration to gain a new starting point for her career (case 43, participant 1). Peter from Austria, almost 40 years old and with no family obligations, was hired as an unskilled worker for a chemicals manufacturer, after a longer spell of unemployment. Originally, he was a trained electrician, but has worked for several years as a self-employed driver. He was attracted by the high wages for shift work in the chemical industry. His employer has invited him to participate in a one and a half year long course in chemistry, leading to a certificate on ISCED 3 level. After passing the examination, he will be acknowledged as a skilled worker and will enjoy a statutory wage increase – based on a collective agreement (case 18, participant 1).

A common way in classifying such cases would be to refer to the characteristics of the individual or of the workplace. Furthermore one could explore individual motives for participation. Our approach is quite different as we focus instead on the following two aspects: On the one hand, we interpret participation as a movement within the life cycle and we classify the direction of the movement. We restrict the analysis to two types of movements; first, movements between life phases devoted mainly to education and phases devoted mainly to work; and second, movements oriented to reinforcing an already established career pathway or towards a break with the existing pathway. On the other hand, we include the question, what kind of step on the educational ladder does a programme offer an individual? In all our introductory examples, the individuals participate in a rather long educational process with a high workload. All programmes are comparatively demanding and ask for a reorganisation of the professional and private life of the individuals during the period of participation. For all programmes, we expect an impact on the competences and the self-awareness of the individuals. Cases where adult learners are engaged only in very short-term activities could hardly be classified within our proposed typology. 4. A typology of patterns of participation We base our typology on the direction of movement within a life course or life cycle model, the relation between the content of the chosen education and the actual work and the relation of the programme within the established hierarchy of qualifications. Formal adult education as a life event in the life cycle Formal adult education is seen as a life event, which requires a significant temporary change of an individual’s way of living and which involves a set of significant developments in a number of dimensions of personality and self-awareness, cognitive

abilities and vocational/professional development. In contrast to various other educational endeavours, participation in formal adult education is expected to be a rare event, taking place in one or in a low number of cases during the life span, linked to significant developmental issues in the individual’s life cycle (Schein, 1978; Aslanian and Brickell, 1980; Cross, 1992; Levinson et al., 1978; Levinson and Levinson, 1996; Erikson, 1980; Lachman, 2001). Consequently, we use the supposed significance for the life course as the main dimension of our typology: . Working while completing formal education (Completing). In particular in “late adolescence” (approximately 15 to 25 years old), we expect an overlapping of education and work. Work may provide required resources and may become an additional source of learning and development. However, the focus remains on continuing and completing the educational programme, so that if the job conflicts with the educational pathway, it is likely to change the job, so that the programme could be completed. . Returning to education and revising a temporary transition from learning to work (Returning). In particular in “late adolescence” and partially also later individuals may decide to stop their education and start working on a full-time basis. This could be the case at a foreseen transition point or by dropping out of an already started programme. Tensions between parenting (including a need for more income when supporting a family) and the study requirements of educational programmes are another important factor for terminating a formal educational programme. However, a significant number of people stop their initial educational programme only temporarily. Their developmental steps indicate the desire “to return to school” and take up studies again. . Transformation of the existing career pathway and/or individual development (Transforming). Formal adult education may provide the basis for a significant break with the existing career pathway and life style. This will be more relevant in later stages of the life cycle, where previous decisions have already contributed to a stable professional identity and class position. Motivations for change could come from the environment (e.g. worsening labour market prospects in declining industries), the dynamics of career couples and the family life cycle or more personal developmental issue. . Reinforcing an existing career pathway (Reinforcing). At any career stage, individuals could use available formal adult education opportunities to solve actual developmental issues or to support progress within their chosen line of occupational or professional development. However, this option exists only when the actual career pathway is sufficiently satisfying and stable. We expect this movement within the life cycle to become the central factor for analysing the interplay between the employee and the employer. Acquired and actual work experiences provide an exceptional basis for studies not available in initial adult education or for newcomers in an occupational field. The reinforcement of a chosen career pathway could potentially be of interest to the employee and the employer. However, the education could also prepare for a change of employer. . Compensation for shortcomings of an existing career pathway (Compensating). Any career, although appreciated and satisfying in principle, may not completely

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satisfy an individual’s personal requirements and desires. Formal adult education may compensate for these shortcomings. Here, learning opportunities made available by the formal programme contribute little to the current workplace. Benefits are mainly expected on a personal level. However, spin offs for the professional career could substantially support the often fragile balance necessary to “deal with a job”. While compensatory strategies may be useful at any stage of a person’s life, they will be most significant in later phases, when reinforcement and change of a chosen pathway are no longer an easily available or desirable option. Workplace tasks, work experience and formal adult education Given the importance of adult work and life experience as a resource in adult education, the relationship of the current or previous job assignment and the content and tasks involved in the formal adult education programme forms the second dimension of our typology: . Relation of the content of the programme and the actual work tasks. We distinguish whether the actual programme intends to support the actual task or whether it is clearly separated from the actual task. The relationship shapes both current work activities and the opportunities available to build on actual work experience. Moreover, the relationship influences the range of the employer’s expected support for the participation. . Time order of starting the current position and formal education. We ask, whether the educational programme was started before joining the current position or while working in the current position. This question helps us to assess the interdependency between the work assignment and the educational programme. Relation to the initial educational system and the hierarchy of qualifications The social significance of formal adult education depends on the degree to which acquired qualifications open further career prospects beyond qualifications acquired in initial education. Therefore, our typology’s third dimension uses the level of the qualification from an adult education programme in comparison with the hierarchy of qualifications: . Progress or no progress on the educational ladder. We consider whether participation in a formal programme leads individually to a next step on the educational ladder or not. This depends both of an individual’s prior educational achievement and of the qualification offered by the programme. For some types, we define the progress on the educational ladder as substantial; for other types, it is of little relevance. . Same or different programmes of initial and continuing education. We differentiate between cases where the educational offering is designed for adults exclusively and those where adults use the same programmes as “traditional students”. In many countries, adult learners join the programmes of (sometime much younger) “traditional” students. . Dependence on or independence from the initial educational system. To the extent an adult educational programme mirrors an offering in initial education, it is

.

dependent on the (mainly) state’s provision of initial education. Finishing the adult learning programme includes comparable tasks and leads to comparable rights and labour market positions. However, many countries have formal adult education programmes, which have no equivalent in the initial educational system. These programmes are either open to all adults holding a certain level of qualification or require a quantum of work experience in a certain field. Requirement for professional and/or life experience. Among the formal educational programmes available only for adults, many limit entrance to those with experience and/or a qualified position in a certain occupational field. Often, these programmes could be regarded as continuing education for certain professional groups. The qualifications achieved are of value mainly within the restricted professional field and have little relevance outside the particular professional communities.

Table I provides an overview our typology. Our typology focuses – for pragmatic reasons only – at one moment of time on the pattern “life course/educational programme/occupation/achieved level of education/existing educational ladder”. Clearly, due to the development of an individual, patterns may change: in which case, so the classification according to our typology. This may be particularly the case, when people change their workplace while participating in a programme. Moreover, the types “Returning”, “Completing” and “Transforming” are also connected logically. Employees, who decide at one moment to change their priorities from work to education, will frequently be seen later on in the pattern “Returning”. Someone who starts an education in a field different from what their former occupational career suggests, will properly enter her or his new field before completion of the educational programme; again, we would classify the new pattern as “Completing”. 5. Discussion of types of participation patterns In the following discussion of the various patterns we only rely on some selected cases to illustrate our argument. Hereby we focus on those patterns which are most relevant for our further research (that is “Reinforcing” (Type IV) and its respective subtypes). Discussion of other patterns is kept to a minimum. Type I (basic type) “Completing” – completion of a step within (initial) formal education and its variation “finishing” and “entering” Many adult learners combine studying and working for economic reasons and for reasons of learning and experience. Often, work assignments are expanded gradually so that it is difficult to identify any clear turning point. In any case, the educational programme started before any current job activity and the individual’s focus remains on completing the educational programme. The participants regard themselves as students who also work. No matter how satisfying, the chosen job is regarded as temporary. The job supports the educational endeavour, not the other way round. Workplaces are chosen according to requirements of ongoing studies; therefore, when job responsibilities become excessive, students normally look for another job more suitable to combine with the ongoing studies. With regard to the life course, they have not yet finished their education or they have not completed a later period devoted mainly to learning. We further distinguish this pattern into those cases in which there

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Ia Finishing

Education I Completing

II Returning

III Transforming

II Returning

III Transforming

Ib Entering

% Sub-types

Table I. Overview – patterns of participation events in adult education

Life cycle Focus Main types Working while studying without particular connection of work and education Being hired in late phases by an employer in need of graduates Returning to education and overruling a temporary transition to work General transformation using education as a basis

Description

Dependence

No relation

(continued)

No requirement

One step ahead

Dependence

After

One step ahead

Dependence

Before Strong, clearly visible relation Insignificant After

One step ahead

Dependence

Insignificant Before

Relation of contents/ tasks

86 Relation to initial vocational system Step ahead in relation to Start of programme individual before/after joining educational the current Dependence/ achievement employer independence

Expected relation of formal programme to work assignment

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Source: Own description

V Compensating

V Compensating

IVd Peaking

IVc Specialising

IVb Adapting

IVa Progressing

Work

IV Reinforcing

% Sub-types

Life cycle Focus Main types

Step ahead only in relation to qualifications relevant for the current job No requirement

One step ahead (often ISECD 6)

No requirement

Dependence

Dependence

Independent, one level ahead, fixed requirements No restriction

After Strong, clearly visible relation After Completing a formal Strong, programme design clearly visible for experienced professionals in the relation field Insignificant After Compensating the restriction of an existing pathway

One step ahead

After

Strong, clearly visible relation Strong, clearly visible relation

Dependence

Progressing in the current field by at least one step on the educational ladder Making one step in the current field, in parallel with an existing one not relevant in the field Completing on programme as a specialization

After (exceptional: before)

Description

Relation of contents/ tasks

Relation to initial vocational system Step ahead in relation to Start of programme individual before/after joining educational the current Dependence/ achievement employer independence

Expected relation of formal programme to work assignment

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is an insignificant relation to workplace and those where there is a strong relation to the works tasks. We name the one “Finishing” and the other “Entering”, to express that the latter is often used as a vehicle to “enter” an employment engagement. Borjana (see above) illustrates “Finishing” in almost all dimensions. Type II “Returning” – re-entry in the initial (vocational) education pathway Many younger adults change an earlier decision to leave the educational system. Having worked for some years, they decide to take up education again, as in the case of Kristina (see above). The degree of career engagement could be very different, from occasional work when one needs money to high commitment in jobs where being young is of particular value (as in tourism or advertising that require working long hours). In any case, career decisions remain temporary. Unlike more mature adults, they perceive themselves as “returners”, who follow an educational pathway they have missed some years earlier and not as adult learners combining work and learning or interrupting or changing a developed occupational career. When deciding to start formal adult education, the focus shifts from work to education. When the actual job and the intended education cannot be combined, the participants are likely to leave their jobs. The employer has to face the reality that the employee will leave the company and start in full time studies or find a job more supportive of his or her new educational goals. Type III “Transformation” – taking up formal adult education to prepare a change of the occupational field Some adults choose formal adult education to foster a fundamental change in their professional career. Here, the wish to leave a particular occupational field and (or) to enter a different field – with little or no connection to the present one – drives the educational engagement. The actual employment is definitely regarded as temporary and will be left when a satisfying position becomes available in the intended new field. In other cases, participants stop working and concentrate exclusively on their educational project, at least for a certain period. The formal education is chosen according to its expected contribution for entering the new occupational field, regardless of whether this requires mastering additional steps on the educational ladder. Type IV – basic type reinforcement – entering formal education for a higher level of qualification compared with what the individual has previously achieved For adults, established in their occupational field and intending to further pursue their chosen career, formal adult education can improve the basis for their continued development, either with the present employer or after a change to another organisation, but with similar occupational responsibilities. Work remains clearly the focus and educational offers are chosen so that they do not interfere with current work assignments. Formal adult education is selected with respect to its possible impact on the chosen occupational career: The education could be based on actual work experience in the field and may expand professional competences relevant to the field of occupation. We further differentiate the main type in the following four subtypes: Progressing, Adapting, Specialising, Peaking, among which the first is most common.

The chosen formal programmes are vocational; only in cases where access to the intended final programme requires further steps in general education does the latter form part of the (longer) educational project. Normally, the vocational programmes directly connect to the occupational field. Moreover, the programmes mirror the structure of vocational educational programmes available in initial vocational education. Because the participant already works in the chosen occupational area, parts of the programmes may become redundant. We can find all of these characteristics in the case of Peter (see above) or Emese: Emese, in her early forties, has worked for a medium-sized printing company, for almost a decade. She used to work in the textile industry as an unskilled sewer, but after her parental leave, she joined her current employer and become engaged in logistics, taking on increasing responsibility year by year. In the near future, she should assume the responsibilities for the logistics. The management has encouraged her to pursue a basic qualification in logistics. She follows a seven-month programme offered by a private for-profit provider, leading to a qualification on logistics on ISCED 3 level. While she participates in the course mainly in her spare time, tuition fees were covered fully by available public co-funding offers (case 78, participant 1).

Progressing is among the most significant types of participation patterns. Because educational offers on the different levels of formal adult education could be highly different and because the actual work situation is highly influenced by educational level previously achieved, the level of education differentiates participants within this type into rather distinct subgroups. “Adapting” is an important variation of the type “Progressing”. The defining criteria of “Adapting” are distinct from “Progressing” only in that the participant may already have achieved a qualification at the same or even a higher level in a different field. Alternatively, the achieved qualification may not be valued in the present situation (for example, because it was attained abroad and is not valued within the local system). While only one criterion is different, the group of participation events subsumed among “Adapting” is rather different. The participants have either opted for an occupational field not related to their formal education or share a migrant background (or both). Moreover, the acknowledging and certifying aspect of the formal adult education chosen is often more important than in the type “Progressing”. The formal adult education completes a process of acquiring an occupational/professional competence, which has started much earlier and which is grounded in educational experiences and workplace learning, as illustrated in the case of Darja: Darja from Estonia, in her late forties, holds a university degree in humanities, and has worked as a project manager for a long period and for more than 10 years for the current employer. The small service provider was bought by foreign investors and a new management established in 2004. Without a formal qualification in her present field, she has felt threatened by the prospect of redundancy and despite her long-term experience, she has suffered from low self-esteem. Therefore, she has chosen a part-time Master programme in economics. However, she was not supported by her employer (case 38, participant 1).

“Specialising” is also a variation of “Progressing”. Here, the chosen programme does not lead to any progress on the educational ladder. However, with regards to the formal education, “Specialising” duplicates an already achieved qualification, but with a different focus of specialization. This knowledge provided should complete the

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competences already achieved by related educational programmes on the same or even a higher level or by workplace learning (as in the case of Judith below). Non-formal programmes – when equal in reputation – would also fulfil this role: Judith from Austria, about 30 and a mother, holds a degree in business administration (ISCED 5) and works for a business consultancy firm. She has followed a three year part-time university programme on applied science in knowledge management, which should support her specialization in this field and could be valued by not only the present employer but also by a wide range of other organisations (enterprise 17, participant 1).

The type “Peaking” forms another variation of reinforcement. Educational institutions – mainly in the higher education sector – offer formal programmes for experienced practitioners or professions in a certain field. Professional experience in a certain position is a requirement admission: by definition, such programmes cannot be available within initial education. Often, a minimum level of formal qualification is also required to attend the programme. The rationale of the offerings is to provide professionals with updates in various fields of knowledge and to improve their professional competence. Working and learning within a group of a comparable professional status and background often forms the core of the learning opportunities offered. Such a case is represented by Bela: Bela from Hungary, in his forties and a father, has worked for approximately ten years as a sales and quality manager in a small wholesale company. As an adult, he has already completed a university degree in management studies, paid for by the company. Actually, he participates in a part-time Master of Business Administration programme, open only for graduates in an appropriate position with three years of professional experience. To preserve his independence, he pays for the programme privately (case 79, participant 1).

Offerings of this type are rather similar to non-formal educational offering for professionals, even when they lead to a formal degree at ISCED level 5 or 6. However, these degrees are often not acknowledged socially and by the labour market in the same way as degrees obtained in the initial educational system.

Type V “Compensation” – formal adult education as an arena for meeting individual aims not covered by the occupation While Types I-IV mark significant steps within the life course, either restarting or completing an educational pathway for changing or reinforcing an existing occupational career, the participation pattern in Type V, “Compensation”, is not connected to any significant change of the life course. Starting from basic satisfaction with the current occupation, participation in formal adult education provides additional sources of personal fulfilment, which are actually not available in the work place. Even when a particular educational programme is likely to have a positive impact on career advancement, this is seen only as a side effect. The individual continues to focus on work and the educational programme does not restrict professional advancement in any way. This kind of compensation could be achieved also by non-formal education offers. Availability and criteria for access (for example, low, or even no, tuition fees) are seen as pull-factors, leading to the decision to choose formal instead of comparable non-formal offers.

6. Outlook We have argued that it is not possible to develop one and the same typology for all participation events in adult education. Our own proposal is designed only for formal adult educational programmes with a substantial workload and the requirement for a temporary rearrangement in the individual’s way of organising work, family obligations, education, and leisure. Compared to other typologies, our approach is independent of participants’ stated motives. Information on previous education, actual work assignment and an outlook on the further steps planed in the educational and professional career are sufficient to classify a participation event in our typology. Certainly, within one type of participation pattern, we find individuals with different motives and at different positions in their life course. By focusing on the triangle formed by educational attainment, current (or former) job assignment and content and level of the educational programme, we construct a typology, which does not only make visible the significance of an educational endeavour for the individual, but which informs significant other actors – notably employer organisations – on the likely impact of participation on their individual interests. So, our typology should help to explain the attitudes of the employer organisation towards particular types of participation patterns. For the types “Finishing”, “Returning”, “Transforming” and “Compensating”, we would assume that only limited support from the organisation is available. Support shown is interpreted as the result of an established training culture (Hefler and Markowitsch, 2008) including a general policy towards formal adult education, human resource development and valuing of the employees, but not as a reaction on the basis of the individual case. A complete different picture is expected for the types “Progressing”, “Adapting”, “Specialising” and “Peaking”. Here, the employer and the employee could both take an interest. In all types we have found cases where the enterprise has encouraged or even initiated participation. However, interests are partly conflicting as the same educational programme could prepare for better contribution to the current or another employer. Therefore, we shall analyse carefully in future research in what circumstances participation of these four types lead to strengthened relationships between employer and employee and where it prepares the employee for changing the employer. In addition understanding potential enterprise support for the participation by employees in formal adult education, we may also use the typology to gain a new basis for comparative research in the various fields covered by the broad concept of formal adult education (see introduction). The typology could be used to provide a better understanding for whom educational programmes could build on subject-related current work experience and for whom not: it would allow firmer distinctions to be made between education programmes, which require work experience as prior input and those which only adjust to the needs of working students. Note 1. Pseudonyms have been used for all interviewees and enterprises. References Aslanian, C.B. and Brickell, H.M. (1980), Americans in Transition – Life Changes as Reasons for Adult Learning, College Entrance Examination Board, New York, NY.

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Boshier, R. (1991), “Psychometric properties of the alternative form of the education participation scale”, Adult Education Quarterly, Vol. 41, pp. 150-69. Bourdieu, P. (1995), The Rules of Art – Genesis and Structure of the Literary Field, Stanford University Press, Stanford, CA. Cross, P.K. (1992), Adults as Learners: Increasing Participation and Facilitating Learning, Jossey-Bass, San Francisco, CA. Erikson, E.H. (1980), Identity and the Life Circle (A Reissue), W.W. Norton, New York, NY. Eurostat (2009), “Definition provided by Eurostat for the Adult Education Survey”, available at http://epp.eurostat.ec.europa.eu/cache/ITY_SDDS/EN/trng_aes_esms.htm (accessed 29 May 2009). Friebel, H., Epskamp, H., Knobloch, B., Montag, S. and Toth, S. (2000), Bildungsbeteiligung: Chancen und Risiken. Eine La¨ngsschnittstudie u¨ber Bildungs- und Weiterbildungskarrieren in der “Moderne”, Leske þ Budrich, Opladen. Hanft, A. and Knust, M. (Eds) (2007), Weiterbildung und lebenslanges Lernen in Hochschulen – Eine internationale Vergleichsstudie zu Strukturen, Organisation und Angebotsformen, Waxmann, Mu¨nster. Hefler, G. and Markowitsch, J. (2008), “To train or not to train? Explaining differences in average enterprise training performance in Europe – a framework approach”, in Markowitsch, J. and Hefler, G. (Eds), Enterprise Training in Europe – Comparative Studies on Cultures, Markets and Public Support Initiatives, Lit-Verlag, Vienna, pp. 23-60. Hillmert, S. and Jacob, M. (2008), “Zweite Chance im Schulsystem? - Zur sozialen Selektivita¨t bei ‘spa¨ teren’ Bildungsentscheidungen”, in Berger, P.A. and Kahlert, H. (Eds), Institutionalisierte Ungleichheit – Wie das Bildungswesen Chancen blockiert, Juventa, Weinheim und Mu¨nchen, pp. 155-78. Houle, C.O. (1961), The Inquiring Mind, University of Wisconsin Press, Madison, WI. Lachman, M.E. (Ed.) (2001), Handbook of Midlife Development, John Wiley & Sons, New York, NY. Levinson, D.J. and Levinson, J. (1996), The Seasons of a Woman’s Life – A Fascinating Exploration of the Events, Thoughts, and Life Experiences that all Women Share, Ballantine Books, New York, NY. Levinson, D., Darrow, C.N., Klein, E.B., Levinson, M.H. and McKee, B. (1978), The Seasons of a Man’s Life, Alfred A. Knopf, New York, NY. Mortimer, J.T., Staff, J. and Oesterle, S. (2006), “Adolescent work and the early socioeconomic career”, in Mortimer, J.T. and Shanahan, M.J. (Eds), Handbook of the Life Course, Springer, New York, NY. Osborne, M., Marks, A. and Turner, E. (2004), “Becoming a mature student: how adult applicants weigh the advantages and disadvantages of higher education”, Higher Education, Vol. 48, pp. 291-315. Rubenson, K. (2007), Determinants of Formal and Informal Canadian Adult Learning – Insights from the Adult Education and Training Surveys, Learning Research Series, Human Resources and Social Development Canada, Toronto. Schein, E.H. (1978), Career Dynamics: Matching Individual and Organizational Needs, Addison-Wesley Publishing Company, Reading, MA. Smith, C.M. and Defrates-Densch, N. (2009), Handbook of Research and Adult Learning and Development, Taylor & Francis, London. Tosana, S. (2008), Bildungsgang, Habitus und Feld: Eine Untersuchung zu den Statuspassagen Erwachsener mit Hauptschulabschluss am Abendgymnasium, Transkript, Bielefeld.

West, L., Alheit, P., Andersen, A.S. and Merrill, B. (Eds) (2007), Using Biographical and Life History Approaches in the Study of Adult and Lifelong Learning – European Perspectives 2, Peter Lang, Frankfurt. Wingens, M., Sackmann, R. and Grotheer, M. (2000), “”Berufliche Qualifizierung fu¨r Arbeitslose – zur Effektivita¨t AFG-finanzierter Weiterbildung im Transformationsprozess”, Ko¨lner Zeitschrift fu¨r Soziologie und Sozialpsychologie, Vol. 52, pp. 60-80. Wolbers, M.H.J. (2003), “Learning and working: double statuses in youth transition”, in Mu¨ller, W. and Gangl, M. (Eds), Transitions from Education to Work in Europe: The Integration of Youth into EU Labour Markets, Oxford University Press, Oxford, pp. 131-55. About the authors Gu¨nter Hefler, member of the scientific staff, Danube University, is responsible for various (international) research projects. Fields of research include continuing vocational education in enterprises and adult education, in particular in comparable perspective. Gu¨nter Hefler is the corresponding author and can be contacted at: [email protected] Jo¨rg Markowitsch is head of the Department for Continuing Education Research and Educational Management, Danube University. Fields of research include continuing vocational training, comparative educational research and research on qualifications frameworks.

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Learning to work no longer: exploring “retirement” Heather Hodkinson

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Lifelong Learning Institute, School of Education, University of Leeds, Leeds, UK Abstract Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to explore learning for and through retirement from the workplace. Design/methodology/approach – First, “retirement” is considered in the light of the existing literature, demonstrating a complex concept. The paper describes the research project from which a theme of retirement as a learning process has emerged. Case studies illustrate individuals’ retirement transformations within the communities and cultures where they live and learn. “Learning lives” is a qualitative project in which the life histories and ongoing lives of over 100 UK adults were researched in interviews 2004-2008. The sample included many people approaching retirement or retired. Findings – Analysis showed retirement as being an ongoing process and learning as being integral to those transitions through which older people go before, during and after leaving paid work. It was found that learning is often informal and tacit, in anticipation, preparation and reaction to change. Learning interrelates with people’s positions in society, time and place as they “become” retired. Research limitations/implications – Time and funding limited analysis of the large bank of data, which are deserving of further work. There are implications for workplaces and for the wider society in the need to recognise and understand the transition process through which retirees must learn their way. Formal course provision can be beneficial but is only part of, or possibly a trigger for, the life learning that occurs. Originality/value – There is limited work available looking at learning and retirement. What there is tends to focus on formal courses. The study adds to those, looking at learning more broadly and as an integral and reciprocal part of the process. Keywords Learning, Retirement, United Kingdom Paper type Case study

Introduction In order to explore learning and retirement I will initially look at what is meant by retirement. Within Britain and other Western democracies, it has become normal that as people get older they retire from paid employment, often at a specified age; but this is not universal. A common view of retirement is as a single significant event in a person’s life. However our data supports writers who suggest that it rarely takes that simple a form in practice. I argue that it is better to understand retirement as a complex on-going process, which can last for several and occasionally many years.

Journal of Workplace Learning Vol. 22 No. 1/2, 2010 pp. 94-103 q Emerald Group Publishing Limited 1366-5626 DOI 10.1108/13665621011012889

This paper includes data and ideas worked on with Phil Hodkinson, Ruth Hawthorn and the late Geoff Ford, as well as the rest of the “Learning lives” team. The research project “ Learning lives: learning, identity and agency in the lifecourse” was funded by the UK Economic and Social Research Council, Award RES139250111. It involved the Universities of Exeter (Gert Biesta, Flora Macleod, Michael Tedder, Paul Lambe), Brighton (Ivor Goodson, Norma Adair), Leeds (Phil Hodkinson, Heather Hodkinson, Geoff Ford, Ruth Hawthorn), and Stirling (John Field, Irene Malcolm, Heather Lynch). See www.learninglives.org

Second, I will briefly describe the Learning Lives research project from which this theme of retirement as learning has emerged. Using data from the project I will go on to consider the nature of the retirement transition process, and the ways in which learning can be understood in relation to that process. Using case studies I will illustrate how individual retirement transitions interrelate with people’s positions within social structures and cultures, in different times and places, and particularly the specific communities and cultures within which they learn. “Retirement” The concept of retirement is problematic. There are three different definitions of retirement in widespread academic use. These are described by Weiss (2005). First, there is “the economic approach [which] assumes that a person older than his or her mid-fifties is retired if he or she does not work . . . for money” (p. 1). Second is the psychological approach, dependant on whether people think of themselves as retired. Using this definition, what counts as retirement will vary significantly from person to person. Thirdly, there is a sociological approach, whereby “you are retired if you have left your career and occupy a social niche in which it is socially acceptable to be without work” (p. 2). Weiss briefly discusses problems with all of these definitions. Furthermore, at least in the UK context, there is a fourth definition of retirement in common use. It is commonly considered that a person is retired if she or he is drawing a pension. For some of the people in the generation considered in this paper, this includes an occupational pension (mainly in the middle classes) from the company they worked for. In addition, men have been entitled to a state old age pension at the age of 65 and women at the age of 60, although more flexibility is currently being introduced, as the government struggles to respond to the combined pressures of an aging population and the collapse of occupational pension schemes. Lying behind the complexities of defining retirement is a deeper conceptual problem. Retirement can be simplistically understood as an event such as the day when a person ceases a lifetime of paid employment and begins living on their pension. Similarly, retirement may be seen as a state of being, or fairly stable stage in life. These two views go together, as the event leads into the new state of being. Arguably, the definitions given above implicitly see retirement in this way. However, seeing retirement as an event leading to a life state hinders a full understanding of the relationships between retirement and learning. In what follows, we tend towards using the sociological definition of retirement, but seeing retirement as a process (see also Department for Education & Science, 2003). Reitzes and Multran (2006, p. 334) also get close to this view, claiming that retirement is “not a single, one-step transition, but an adjustment process that extends over time”. It is with that adjustment process which inevitably entails learning that we are concerned here. While Weiss (2005, p. 2) argues that “by and large, people who are retired by one definition are also retired by the others”, our research shows that this is not necessarily the case during this often lengthy adjustment process. Within this understanding of retirement as a process over time, in many people’s lives there are still symbolically significant events, the most obvious being the day of formally leaving a main employment and starting to take a pension. Before that day a person is normally not retired by any definition. After it, they may be retired by some definitions, or their retirement state may be ambiguous.

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In our data, one lady, Elsie, had been an administrator for one nationalised company for most of her working life. Following privatisation there were significant changes in the organisation which Elsie felt led to poorer working practices. Being then dissatisfied with work she was pleased to leave and take her pension at the first possible opportunity and was immediately content with her retired state. She then fitted all of Weiss’ definitions. For few of the rest of our respondents was retirement that simple. Several “retired” from one job (such as the armed services) only to get a different full-time job afterwards. Several moved into part time employment, or voluntary work, sometimes before the age of 60. Many, having given up their breadwinner role and lost the daily and weekly routines of work were discontented and struggled to cope with their new lifestyle. Nevertheless, returning to the idea of a symbolic change, a heuristic way to look at learning and the complexities of the retirement transition is to consider what happens before and after such a change. However before doing that we should look at the research project which provides the data which promotes and illustrates these ideas. The research The “Learning lives” research project was a UK study which aimed to deepen understanding of the meaning and significance of learning in the lives of adults, investigating the complex interrelationships between learning, agency and identity. Methodologically it used a combination of life history research, longitudinal qualitative research (with the same people) and the analysis of existing panel survey data. The methodology has been explained in detail elsewhere (e.g. Biesta et al., 2005). The qualitative data, on which this paper is based, was collected through minimally structured interviews. More than 100 people took part in up to eight interviews each between 2004 and 2007. The sample included many who were retired or approaching retirement from paid employment and they have provided a great deal of insight into the retirement process, and the changes and learning that are integral to it. The paper is focussed particularly around the data collected by the team from Leeds University, who had a specific remit to look at learning in older people’s lives. Leeds’ sample included 18 people who were aged between 50 and 80 when the fieldwork started. The sample is varied, covering people of both genders and different ethnic backgrounds, with widely varying educational and occupational experiences. The data gives a very detailed picture of the ways in which these people had lived or were living through the retirement process – partly retrospectively, through life histories, and partly in real time. The life history data also allows us to situate retirement experiences in relation to a person’s earlier life. Analysis of the data has taken place within an interpretative paradigm (Smith, 1989). The data was analysed in two stages. First, we concentrated on understanding each person’s life as a detailed case study, building up individual portrayals (Goodson and Sykes, 2001). The second stage was to look for patterns and themes across the stories. The over-arching interests of the Learning Lives project were in the relationships between learning, identity and agency in people’s lives. In order to illuminate these key concepts we focussed in detail on a limited number of specific contexts and/or issues. One of these was retirement and the transitions associated with it, and that work is reported here.

The findings related to this paper have been heuristically grouped to report people’s experiences prior to a retirement event followed by experiences further on in the process. “Pre-retirement” has been further subdivided according to the age of the respondents at the time of the research so there is an older age group looking back in the light of their current circumstances and a younger age group reporting on current and recent experience.

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97 Pre-retirement experiences The over-60s In all the cases in our research, a lengthy pre-retirement process had taken place before any symbolic event. This included anticipation of retirement, the decision to retire, and deliberate preparation for retirement. Davis Smith and Gay (2005, p. 2) found that, “final withdrawal from the workforce was often preceded by a protracted period of uncertainty”. For several of our respondents work had become stressful or in some other way unsatisfactory. We have already mentioned Elsie (75) whose new work practices left her dissatisfied resulting in positive anticipation of retirement, which fortunately lived up to her expectations of a life with a small occupational pension, where she was in control. Gladys (70) also found that she had become more and more dissatisfied with her job as a hospital cleaner and tea lady as regulation removed any personal pride in the work. She retired as soon as she was 60 with a small pension from the hospital. Three teachers in the sample chose to retire early. Sheelagh (63) left because she wanted more time for her creative and artistic activities. Jennifer (61) took early retirement as classroom stress made her physically ill. However she had retained over many years a second career as a self-employed translator working flexibly from home and she continued this work. Anna (67) also was disappointed at her inability to achieve her high educational aims as a schoolteacher, and stress led her to look for alternatives. She took on and thoroughly enjoyed a three year research studentship. She gained a PhD at 63, wrote a book, teaches voluntarily for the University of the Third Age, and finds time for several other activities. A number of our respondents were effectively pushed into retirement, but over a period of time. Jim (73) was made redundant from his long-term semi-skilled job due to plant closure. He was in his early 50s but got a good settlement. Being a working man and breadwinner was central to his character. He found himself a new job labouring, which lasted for another ten years. Over this period he refused any promotion which would give him responsibility, as he now wanted to avoid the sort of stress he had suffered as a union convenor in his previous job. In the end he was tempted into early retirement (at 63) by a very good deal, which gave him a better pension. He had learnt to manage his money well with his earlier settlement, but he still found it difficult to adapt to not being a working-man. Stephen (63) also moved into basic unskilled work. In his case this followed hospitalisation for depression. Unfortunately he then suffered an industrial accident which caused severe back pain and led to his being unemployable and effectively retired since his mid 50s. He looked forward to being 65 when both state and occupational pensions become available to him. William (63) had worked for most of his life as a skilled and well paid self-employed textile designer, but recent changes in the industry had left him with little work. Although he was in his 60s he was not at all ready to stop work. He took “back to work” training courses and eventually found a part time job in a music shop with worldwide sales. This uses and

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develops his long-term musical and linguistic talents and means he enjoys more daily communication with colleagues than he has had for most of his working life. Derek (61) has also been forced to give up his lifetime career, as a skilled carpenter. He suffers from severe arthritis. He has tried to continue in the building trade, but been forced to stop. He is trying to build up a small business around his collecting hobbies – learning to use the computer and the internet. He has also sought alternative part time employment. Now he has a driving job which allows him to tour the region he loves and to learn about the materials he is delivering and the people he is delivering them to. In several of these cases it is not clear whether the individuals are retired or not. The under-60s Our respondents who were in their 50s were not specifically thinking about retirement, but three were long term unemployed, and all the others had either through choice or force of circumstance moved into new employment areas. The same sorts of progression towards retirement can be seen as in the previously described group. Tony is a working class man who learned at an early age to believe in the importance of having a job. However when his wife became ill and later died, his employer would not allow him any flexibility. He left work firstly to look after his wife and later to care for his teenage children. It took him a good while to adjust to the combination of losing his wife, having no fixed pattern to his days and doing unfamiliar unpaid work. Having eventually learned to cope with all of this, he found time to attend basic English classes. These classes help structure his week and his life is full and fulfilled. He could now return to work, but he no longer has much will to do so, and the unskilled jobs he might take are not available at present. He is drifting towards “retirement” and eventual receipt of the state pension will make him marginally better off. Paddy was required to retire from the armed forces at 50, but has failed since to find another fulfilling job. He had skills from the forces, and has trained in new ones, but is still looking for work that makes proper use of them. Sergei, formerly an engineer in Belarus, is now an illegal immigrant earning what he can in occasional unregulated employment. If he avoids repatriation he will probably need to continue in this way indefinitely. More positively, Rebecca who long ago hoped to be a nurse, worked for most of her life in shops and offices. Now reverting to her ambition, she has started training as a care worker. Tim in later life is pursuing his lifetime dream of acting, gaining occasional work. Colin has a new career as a part time school technician which fits with his domestic responsibilities as his wife is alternately ill or working full time. Jane moves from job to job between bouts of illness, pursuing her first love of classical history when she can afford trips abroad. Joe, whose property development company collapsed, has a new career as a teacher in a Further Education College teaching electrical apprentices. He enjoys the work but wants to be able to devote more time to his church and to studying. Jeff, another whose firm went bankrupt, has moved overseas to help his partner develop a business as a dance teacher. Several of these people are hardly thinking about retirement at all, several think of it as something to be avoided. Nevertheless in all these stories the move towards retirement has been or is an ongoing process over a number of years – often not consciously undertaken. The themes that recur within this process include coming to terms with ill health, suffering a deteriorating workplace experience, or an enforced

change through redundancy – sometimes with happy and sometimes with distressing long term results. Some have made positive choices in favour of a more flexible and less stressful life, working or otherwise. Downsizing in terms of responsibility and time worked are common patterns. At the end of our project only Elsie, Gladys and Jim could be considered retired by all the definitions. They may be thought to be in a relatively stable stage of retirement, but their lives continue to move on and they are all clear that they are still learning. Experiences of retirement Experience following a symbolic retirement event continues in similar ways. Some people, like Derek and William continue with paid employment, albeit part time, and do not think of themselves as retired at all. The music company employing William has no retirement age, so he can continue working for as long as he wishes and feels able to do so. Similarly Peter, aged 80, cycles daily to his work as a part-time caretaker, health and safety officer, and general factotum. This is work he thoroughly enjoys in spite of formerly being an army officer and company manager. Anna, at 67, refuses to consider herself retired although she no longer has paid employment. Earning money is unrelated to her definition of retirement while she is still active and of use to others, and “retired” is antithesis to her identity. She would say that there has never been a retirement “event” in her story and she continually adjusts the activities she takes part in. Others perceive themselves as retired and active. Elsie sees retirement as a different, fulfilling stage in her life. In early retirement she moved house locally and spent time doing up her new flat, with friends. She went on a once in a lifetime trip to America. She reads a lot, watches television, goes walking regularly with a group of friends, and on outings by bus. A few years after retirement, she started going to community-based adult education classes, taking one course a year for about ten years. More recent courses failed to inspire her, so she is giving this activity a break. She says she is learning all the time from all these activities, not just the classes, and that it is essential to her wellbeing to keep her self and her brain active. Gladys finds life now is better than it has ever been. Previously she devoted her life to supporting her family, including an abusive husband. She could not read or write, which made her very dependant first on him then after he died, on her children. When she left work she continued to be exploited as the free babyminder. However, encouraged by her daughters she joined a literacy class. She can now read a little and no longer feels the shame she used to. More important is the enthusiasm she has developed for the several classes that she now attends and the new supportive social group she has become part of. She has confidence and is now living life for herself. Others have found retirement more difficult. After taking his retirement package Jim redecorated his house, helped with the housework and spent time with his wife. He was able to afford overseas holidays and took them out of season. Nevertheless he missed being an active breadwinner and was embarrassed at being seen so much with his wife. He became bored and depressed to the level of needing medication as a result of the loss of his male work identity and community. Thanks to a neighbour’s recommendation he gained a renewed interest in life through involvement in the local community learning centre. He became enthusiastically committed, taking several classes a year both for the interest they provided and for the social interaction with

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local people of all ages and backgrounds. He saw the centre as helping to rebuild a community in the deprived area where he lives. When the centre was threatened with closure, Jim took a leading role in a partially successful campaign to keep it open, developing skills in writing letters to local politicians. His other interests – reading, sports, family and his small investments – no longer seem like fill-ins but are important in his life. The outcome of retirement is not always happy. George retired at the age of 50, partly because he had been stripped of his company directorship. At about the same time his marriage broke up painfully. George applied for some jobs unsuccessfully. After his wife left he sold his house and bought a mobile home, to raise capital for a small business. He opened a specialist food shop in an appropriately middle class area, but success only lasted for a few years. At this stage he was still socialising in his village, as a regular at the local pub. However, he felt he had lost control of his life and tried to commit suicide. Shortly afterwards he was diagnosed with a debilitating disease. He withdrew into himself. He cannot drive a car, takes no holidays and has ceased going to restaurants or the pub. He is still invited to activities in the village but elects not to go. He is financially secure and does purchase items to make his life more bearable, for example a bath hoist. He says he has become “a bit of a hermit” and claims to be happy only at bedtime when he can “shut everything out”. He survives but has not moved on from learning that life is no longer what he wanted it to be. In all these cases retirement is shown to be a transitional process. By the time a person is deemed to be retired generally speaking that process is well underway. At the very least there will have been anticipation – negative, positive or ambivalent. It is difficult to say where the process starts – what is normal adult life as opposed to pre-retirement. It is a matter of interpretation. People’s view of life changes with increasing age. Thus as her workplace changed when she was in her late 50s, Elsie knew there would be the possibility of retirement in the not too distant future. Occasionally the process may start with a shock event such as unexpected illness or work closure, but then the process will continue. Anna’s gradual progression was interesting as we observed it over three years of the research. She moved from wanting a job as a researcher like me, to valuing the flexibility of having no paid job and being able to follow her interests. In conversation with me she recognised that she might eventually be retired but disliked the idea because for her it meant withdrawal from active life. Precisely because retirement is a process of change, it must also be a process of learning. People have to learn to deal with new situations, with new opportunities and new constraints. They have to deal with changes to the self and to their situation that place pressures on existing dispositions. Existing dispositions have to be adapted to apply to new situations, or the situations adapted to fit the self. Personal resources (what Bourdieu (Bourdieu and Wacquant, 1992) terms economic, social and cultural capital) significantly influence the possibilities of learning, positively and negatively. Learning and horizons for learning Much of the literature on learning and retirement focuses either on learning as preparation for retirement (Heikkinen et al., 1995) or on learning to meet the needs of people who have retired (Jarvis, 1989). It tends to emphasis formal learning and the provision of courses. Our stories show examples of the need for and benefits of such

formal learning. Some have taken courses to help themselves gain new employment, some have enhanced their lives by pursuing adult education classes run by the local authority or local colleges. None of our sample had attended a course to prepare them for retirement. Such courses are normally available from large companies especially in the public sector. However courses are only a small part of the learning picture. I have written elsewhere in more detail about how broad a concept I believe learning is, taking place all the time as a part of life. (e.g. Hodkinson et al., 2008), This is confirmed by “Learning lives” and other projects I have worked on. Much psychological and educational literature treats learning as a largely cognitive operation or as a process of aquisition. This might imply in the context of this paper that there is a reified set of information, understanding and skills that all older people should acquire for a successful retirement. Our research revealed a broader, relational process. Others have also shown that people learn through everyday life and through participation in social situations. Learning is an integral part of activities that people participate in (Brown et al., 1989). Further, learning is not just cerebral, but rather, as Beckett and Hager (2002) argue, learning is embodied, entailing the emotional, physical and practical as well as the cognitive. Our data supports these views and moves beyond them to support Wenger’s (1998) idea of learning as becoming. The respondents described here are becoming retired people; more or less successfully; some changing significantly; others holding on to important parts of their former identity as workers. Through the retrospective and ongoing nature of the research at the time, we were able to see part of the process and change that they were going through, and consequently the learning be it tacit and informal or sometimes formal and classroom based. Learning through retirement is integral to the interrelationships between the changing person and his or her changing situation. It is facilitated and sometimes triggered by changes in a person’s horizons for learning, that is the bounded possibilities a person has for learning. These can, in turn, change as a result of further learning. These possibilities will depend on a person’s position in time, place, economy and society. From such positions their learning is affected firstly by individual factors like health, disposition and resources (which are of course related to their position). Second, their learning is affected by the learning cultures within which they live, that is the learning cultures within for example their family, home, local community, workplace and leisure activities. Many of these can be glimpsed in the fragments of our respondents’ stories presented. For some people retirement has brought a reduction in the number and richness of learning cultures they participate in, as their interactions through the workplace are lost. Others find, sometimes fortuitously, sometimes proactively, new avenues. Perhaps through personal disposition some do not take up the opportunities for learning that changes in life throw up. It is a mistake though to see the personal dimensions of horizons for learning as separate from situational dimensions. They inevitably interact. For some, formal classes can play a positive role. Nevertheless much learning arises from the practice of living – working for money or on leisure projects, dealing with problems, collaborating with others, adapting to changed circumstances and perhaps coping with declining health. In our stories there are a series of factors that recur. Health is one. Wealth is another. All bar two of our sample said they did not feel themselves restricted by finance, but the ability to afford to pursue interests, or to find

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interests that fit within budget does make a difference. The need to work was another factor which appeared very important, and it was mainly for the men in the sample, all of whom had been brought up in a culture that emphasised the importance of having a job. Tony, Jim and Stephen had struggled to adapt to being without paid employment until they found an alternative structured way of filling their time. Derek, Peter and William had all fought hard to find employment (at least part-time), including learning new skills. Concluding thoughts Our data show that learning is inherently part of retirement. Across the whole “Learning lives” project we see that learning is ubiquitous throughout life. However it varies in its significance and value. This being the case, what becomes important is to consider the “value” and “benefit” of the learning taking place, and whether it can be “enhanced” in an informed way. Defining “value”, “benefit” and “enhancement” involves subjective judgements. There are societal norms but what is good and bad may also depend on who is asking and who is answering. In talking of enhancing learning at, for and through retirement, is the benefit for the individual moving into a new phase of life, for their family, for society providing support services as people get older, for some outsider who defines what a good retirement might look like, or whom? Returning to our data, we have seen that the nature of the learning process is as complex and varied as the pathways people take through it, and affected by people’s circumstances and positions in society. Learners and learning are part of their context, affected by it as well as affecting it. We would hope that our research can be of benefit to people, but if we make recommendations we need to be careful about our positioned value judgements. There are not simple solutions. In final briefing papers, the Learning Lives Project proposed ways of enhancing learning involving a combination of guidance and support, formal course availability, reflection and narrating one’s life, all of which are part of enhancing the learning cultures within which people operate (Biesta et al., 2008a, b). Support for learning includes but goes far beyond teaching. Good support requires adaption to personal circumstances and situations, and the building of valued relationships. The “Learning lives” research shows us great variations in individual identities and circumstances. It shows that in considering enhancing learning, no single approach is likely to work for everyone or all of the time. And there remain central and contested questions about the significance, value and desirability of learning. It is also important to remember that much informal learning is unintentional. When attempts are made to promote particular learning processes and outcomes, there are likely to be additional unforeseen and unintended process and outcomes, which may sometimes be stronger than those intended. The “Learning lives” project therefore suggests that strategies most likely to be successful in improving learning will focus on increasing the likelihood of beneficial learning in a particular situation, accepting that they may not always be successful. References Beckett, D. and Hager, P. (2002), Life, Work and Learning: Practice in Postmodernity, Routledge, London.

Biesta, G.J.J., Hodkinson, P. and Goodson, I. (2005), “Combining life-history and life-course approaches in researching lifelong learning: methodological observations from the ‘Learning lives’ project”, Centre for Research into Lifelong Learning 3rd International Conference, Stirling, available at: www.learninglives.org/papers/GB_PH_IG_CRLL_Conf_ June_2005_Stirling.doc Biesta, G.J.J., Field, J., Goodson, I., Hodkinson, P. and McLeod, F. (2008a), Strategies for Improving Learning through the Life-course, TLRP, Institute of Education, London, available at: www.learninglives.org/articles/Learning%20Lives%20Pamphlet%20July%202008.pdf Biesta, G.J.J., Field, J., Goodson, I., Hodkinson, P. and McLeod, F. (2008b), “Learning lives: learning, identity and agency in the life course”, Teaching and Learning Research briefing No. 51, TLRP, Institute of Education, London, available at: www.tlrp.org/dspace/retrieve/ 3684/BiestaRB51FINAL.pdf Bourdieu, P. and Wacquant, L.J.D. (1992), An Invitation to Reflexive Sociology, Polity, Cambridge. Brown, J.S., Collins, A. and Duguid, P. (1989), “Situated cognition and the culture of learning”, Educational Researcher, Vol. 18 No. 1, pp. 32-42. Davis Smith, J. and Gay, P. (2005), Active Ageing in Active Communities: Volunteering and the Transition to Retirement, Joseph Rowntree Foundation, York. Department for Education & Science (2003), Challenging Age: Information, Advice and Guidance for Older Age Groups, DfES, London. Goodson, I. and Sykes, P. (2001), Life History Research in Educational Settings: Learning from Lives, Open University Press, Buckingham. Heikkinen, E., Kuusinen, J. and Ruoppila, I. (Eds) (1995), Preparation for Ageing, Plenum, New York, NY. Hodkinson, P., Ford, G., Hodkinson, H. and Hawthorn, R. (2008), “Retirement as a learning process”, Educational Gerontology, Vol. 34 No. 3, pp. 167-84. Jarvis, P. (1989), “Retirement: an incomplete ritual”, Educational Gerontology, Vol. 4 No. 2, pp. 79-84. Reitzes, D.C. and Multran, E.J. (2006), “Lingering identities in retirement”, The Sociological Quarterly, Vol. 47, pp. 333-9. Smith, J.K. (1989), The Nature of Social and Educational Enquiry: Empiricism versus Interpretation, Ablex, Norwood, NJ. Weiss, R.S. (2005), Experience of Retirement, ILR Press, New York, NY. About the author Heather Hodkinson has worked as an educational researcher since 1991, first at the University of Exeter, then at the Manchester Metropolitan University and for the last nine years at the University of Leeds, in the world renowned School of Continuing Education and the Lifelong Learning Institute. Areas of expertise include transitions from school to work, becoming a teacher, teacher learning, life history research and learning throughout life. She has worked on major projects funded by the British Education Research Council. She has published one book Triumphs and Tears with Phil Hodkinson and Andrew Sparkes, also a number of book chapters and journal articles independently and with various co-authors. Heather Hodkinson can be contacted at: [email protected]

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Tara Fenwick University of British Columbia, Vancouver, Canada Abstract Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to compare theoretical conceptions that reclaim and re-think material practice – “the thing” in the social and personal mix – specifically in terms of work activity and what is construed to be learning in that activity. Design/methodology/approach – The paper is theory-based. Three perspectives have been selected for discussion: cultural-historical activity theory (CHAT), actor-network theory (ANT), and complexity theory. A comparative approach is used to examine these three conceptual framings in the context of their uptake in learning research to explore their diverse contributions and limitations on questions of agency, power, difference, and the presence of the “thing”. Findings – The three perspectives bear some similarities in their conceptualization of knowledge and capabilities as emerging – simultaneously with identities, policies, practices and environment – in webs of interconnections between heterogeneous things, human and nonhuman. Yet each illuminates very different facets of the sociomaterial in work-learning that can afford important understandings: about how subjectivities are produced in work, how knowledge circulates and sediments into formations of power, and how practices are configured and re-configured. Each also signals, in different ways, what generative possibilities may exist for counter-configurations and alternative identities in spaces and places of work. Originality/value – While some dialogue has occurred among ANT and CHAT, this has not been developed to compare more broadly the metaphysics and approaches of these perspectives, along with complexity theory which is receiving growing attention in organizational research contexts. The paper purports to introduce the nature of these debates to work-learning researchers and point to their implications for opening useful questions and methods for inquiry in workplace learning. Keywords Complexity theory, Workplace learning Paper type Conceptual paper

Journal of Workplace Learning Vol. 22 No. 1/2, 2010 pp. 104-116 q Emerald Group Publishing Limited 1366-5626 DOI 10.1108/13665621011012898

In social sciences interested in enactments of work activity, politics and knowledge, and the flows among them, a prominent shift has occurred that invites attention from work-and-learning researchers. Evident in perspectives such as science and technology studies, actor-network theory, complexity theory and new cultural geographies, this shift counters theoretical positions that assume the social/cultural and the personal to be the defining parameters of what it means to learn. It challenges the centering of human processes in learning (often conceived as consciousness, intention, meaning, intersubjectivity and social relations) derived from perspectives associated with phenomenology and social constructivism, and foregrounds the material. The material includes tools, technologies, bodies, actions, and objects, but not in ways that treat these as “brute” or inherently distinct from humans as users and designers. The material also includes texts and discourses, but not in ways that focus on linguistic, intertextual and cultural circulations that preoccupy post structural analyses. Overall, this shift is away from a primary preoccupation with human

meaning including meanings attributed to such objects, as we see in hermeneutic, narrative or symbolic interactionist approaches. The shift is also away from analysing such objects as traces of something assumed to be “culture”, as we see in conventional anthropological accounts. Instead, among perspectives that seem to be part of this pervasive shift[1], the material world is treated as continuous with and in fact embedded in the immaterial and the human. Therefore in this discussion, the term “sociomaterial” is used to represent perspectives that are argued to form part of this shift. But why this focus on the material? What can it bring to work-learning studies? The first answer is perhaps an obvious one. Work life is fully entangled with material practice, technologies, vehicles, architectural spaces, roads and roadblocks, nature and objects of all kinds, in ways that are often not even acknowledged in the preoccupation with understanding human activity and meaning-making. The second answer is that attention to the sociomaterial can help reveal the dynamics that are actually constituting what comprises everyday life, including learning. Humans and what they take to be their “learning” and “social” processes do not float, distinct, in “contexts” of work that can be conceptualized and dismissed as a wash of material “stuff” and spaces. The things that assemble these contexts, and incidentally the actions and bodies including human ones that are part of these assemblages, are continuously acting on each other to bring forth objects and knowledge. These objects might be taken by a casual observer as natural and given – things comprising a “context”. But a more careful analysis notes that these objects, including objects of knowledge, are very messy, slippery and indeterminate. Indeed some sociomaterial analyses accept the simultaneous existence of multiple ontologies that can be detected in the play of objects. This has enormous implications for understanding worklife and the processes of learning. A third answer to “why sociomaterial?” is its ability to unsettle categories that have become problematic conventions in work-learning analyses, despite critique that by now is well-worn. Such categories include informal and formal learning, individual and collective learning, and workplace learning and organizational learning. These categories are unhelpful because they suggest that such things exist as knowable and distinct, when research has struggled with the inseparability, uncertainties and fluidities of the phenomena which such categories are intended to describe. In a summary of the contributions of science and technology studies (STS) to organizational research, Woolgar et al. (2009, pp. 19-21) shows the general value of sociomaterial perspectives to work-learning research: (1) a propensity to cause trouble, provoke, be awkward; (2) a tendency to work through difficult conceptual issues in relation to specific empirical cases, deflating grandiose theoretical concepts and claims (and even some ordinary ones); (3) an emphasis on the local, specific and contingent in relation to the genesis and use of science and technology; (4) caution about the unreflexive adoption and deployment of standard social science lexicons (e.g. power, culture, meaning, value); (5) reflexive attention to the (frequently unexplicated) notions of our audiences, value and utility . . . Consistent with the premise that users are performed, enacted, and configured (Woolgar, 1991), for a whole range of cultural artefacts, this style of STS maintains an active interest in the transposition of social science research across sometimes challenging social-organizational boundaries. This we construe as a radical intellectual challenge, not merely a political preference or a practical obligation.

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A range of conceptual and methodological framings employing sociomaterial analysis, or what Law (2009) suggests we call “material semiotics”, has commanded recent attention in the social sciences more broadly. However, this range is less evident in studies of workplace learning. Apart from the relative prominence in work-learning studies of cultural-historical activity theory or CHAT (e.g. Engestrom; Sawchuk, 2003; Fuller and Unwin, 2004) and a few analyses informed by actor-network theory (ANT) (e.g. Edwards and Nicoll, 2007; Fox, 2000; Mulcahy, 1999, 2007), there does not yet exist a vibrant conversation about and among sociomaterial conceptions. The purpose of this paper is to open a dialogue that compares theoretical conceptions that reclaim and re-think material practice – how matter comes to matter in the social and personal mix – specifically in terms of work activity and what is construed to be learning in that activity. Three perspectives have been selected for comparison: CHAT, ANT, and complexity theory. The three bear some similarities in their conceptualization of knowledge and capabilities as emerging – simultaneously with material elements, identities, policies, practices and environment – in webs of interconnections between heterogeneous entities, human and nonhuman. Each illuminates very different facets of the sociomaterial that can afford important understandings related to conceptions of “learning” and knowledge in work-based practice: about how subjectivities are produced in work, how knowledge circulates and sediments into formations of power, and how practices are configured and re-configured. Yet each perspective is itself a slippery, heterogeneous and contested site of inquiry[2]. This discussion employs the terms work and learning cautiously. Conceptions of “work” across different fields are multiple and resist synthesis. Work has been analysed as paid and unpaid, linked to the formal economy or not, visible and invisible, based in organizational action, household chores, care-giving, or individual reflection, distributed across multiple sites and even continents, virtual or continuously mobile. Enactments of work and their effects, such as forms of oppressions and privileges, vary profoundly depending on particulars: geographic regions; public, private, domestic or not-for-profit settings; or on whether we are referring to trades workers or managers, self-employed professionals, farmers, indentured labourers, academics, bloggers, and so on. Any generalized theory of work must ignore all the exceptions or distort them to fit a singular pre-conceived model. Similarly in discussing “learning”, a term which has come to be applied to a vast range of processes from information transmission to individual development to emancipatory transformation, there is no unitary definition that can adequately represent the multiple and contested perspectives. Here, learning is treated differently in each conception and no attempt will be made to synthesize them in one transcendent pronouncement. In the following discussion these three conceptual framings are compared in context of their uptake in work-learning research. Both their diverse contributions and their limitations are explored on questions of power, difference, and the material: how and why matter matters in the processes of becoming and knowing that constitute the worlds of work. Socio-material perspectives on learning and knowledge in work Practices of work, including practices conceived as “learning”, are most often discussed in social and cultural terms. Overly psychologized and acquisitive perspectives of

learning in work as confined to the personal and the individual have gradually given way to more collective or participative understandings of knowledge construction (Fenwick, 2008). Often these notions of participation are confined to human interactions, focusing on social relations and cultural forces and the ways in which humans “use” tools or move through “contexts”. In such conceptualizations, the very processes of materialization that designate these different entities and their possibilities for interaction become obscured. Sociomaterial accounts, what some might call posthumanist perspectives, claim that matter is a critical force in the constitution and recognition of all entities, their relations, and the ways they change (or “learn”). Sociomaterial perspectives not only question the acceptance of differential categories such as individual/organization and binaries of subject/object, knower/known etc, but also challenge the givenness of fundamental distinctions between human and non-human. The assumption that entities are anterior to their representation is refuted, to focus on the material and discursive practices through which entities and their interactions are enacted into being. Sociomaterial accounts also examine how the differential boundaries separating entities are stabilized, and destabilized. The point is not to reify or bring into focus “things”. The point is in fact to contest the notion that things (including objects, texts, human bodies, intentions, concepts etc) exist separately and prior to the lines of relations that must be constructed among them, and to examine the dynamic process of materialization – including material and discursive practices – through which things emerge and act in what are indeterminate entanglements of local everyday practice. In such accounts, all entities are understood to be mutually constituted – in their distinct boundaries, properties, directions of action, and relations with other entities – simultaneously with the constitution of the dynamic phenomena and events in which they are implicated, within and through the ongoing flux of multiple interactions and connections. As Barad (2003, p. 817) puts it, “The world is an ongoing open process of mattering through which ‘mattering’ itself acquires meaning and form in the realization of different agential possibilities”. Different theoretical accounts conceptualize and name this mutual sociomaterial constitution differently. Complexity theory talks about co-specification (Varela et al., 1991) where two entities become attracted and, through their association, begin to imitate one another and to link together. A series of dynamic, nonlinear interactions produce “emergence” (Davis and Sumara, 2006), the understanding that in (complex adaptive) systems, phenomena, events and actors are mutually dependent, mutually constitutive, and actually emerge together in dynamic structures. Actor-network theory talks about “translation” (Latour, 2005), the process by which entities, human and nonhuman, come together and connect, changing (“translating”) one another to form links that bring forth networks of coordinated action and things. These themes are taken up to a greater or lesser extent in the three sociomaterial perspectives selected for discussion here: complexity theory, cultural-historical activity theory, and actor-network theory. Each is rooted in different, often contested, positions about the nature of knowledge, being, agency, practice, and the relations of knower with known and subjects with objects. However, each has been employed by analysts to interrogate phenomena associated with what some call “learning” in work contexts. This discussion is limited to a brief comparative overview of these perspectives, as an extended dialogue among them is not possible within the confines of this paper.

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Learning as emergence of collective cognition and environment: complexity theory “Complexity theory” is actually a heterogeneous body of theories originating in evolutionary biology, mathematical fractals and general systems theory, and including enactivism, cybernetics, chaos theory, autopoetic theories, and so on. The present discussion draws from analysts who have theorized complexity theory in terms of human and organizational learning (e.g. Davis and Sumara, 2006; Osberg and Biesta, 2007; Stacey, 2005). Complexity theory provides one approach to understanding learning processes in a system such as a work organisation. The first premise is that the systems represented by person and context are inseparable, and the second that change occurs from emerging systems affected by the intentional tinkering of one with the other. The key theme is emergence, the understanding that in (complex adaptive) systems, phenomena, events and actors are mutually dependent, mutually constitutive, and actually emerge together in dynamic structures. Davis and Sumara (2006) among others have applied these concepts to human learning, showing how environment and learners emerge together in the process of emergent cognition. Elements that come to comprise a system interact according to simple rules that are recursively re-enacted. Elements often couple, in a process of co specification (Varela et al., 1991). As each element interacts and responds within the activity, the overall shape and direction of the system shifts, as does the emerging object of focus. Other elements are changed, the relational space among them all changes, and the looping-back changes each element’s form and actions. The resultant coupling changes or “co-specifies” each participant, creating a new transcendent unity of action and identities that could not have been achieved independently. These interactions are recursive, continuing to elaborate what is present and what is possible in the system. They also form patterns all by themselves – they do not organize according to some sort of externally imposed blueprint – so complexity theorists describe such systems as self-organizing. That is, through the ongoing processes of recursively elaborative adaptation, the system can maintain its form without some externally-imposed discipline or organizing device, such as hierarchical management. In work organisations, people constantly influence and adjust to each other’s emerging behaviours, ideas, and intentions – as well as with objects, furniture, technologies, etc. – through a myriad complex interactions and fluctuations. A whole series of consequences emerge from these micro actions. Most of this complex joint action leaks out of individual attempts to control what they are doing. No clear lines of causation can be traced from these interactions to their outcomes, because at any given time among all these interconnections, possibilities are contained in the system that are not visible or realized. This means, among other things, that humans are fully nested within and interconnected with many elements of the systems comprising them and in which they participate. They are not considered to be autonomous, sovereign agents for whom knowledge can be acquired or extracted. And yet, in our observation and recall of such occurrences, the tendency is to focus on the (human) learning figure and dismiss all these sociomaterial complex interactions within which the figure becomes visible as “background”. Complexity science urges a refocusing on the relations that produce things, not the things themselves. Out of these continuous and non-linear interactions emerge dynamic wholes that exceed their parts. Osberg and Biesta (2007) call this “strong emergence”: conditions where the knowledge

and capability that emerges is more than the sum of its parts, and therefore not predictable from the “ground” it emerges from. Overall, in complexity theory knowledge and action are understood as continuous invention and exploration, produced through relations among consciousness, identity, action and interaction, objects and structural dynamics. New possibilities for action are constantly emerging among these interactions of complex systems, and cognition occurs in the possibility for unpredictable shared action. Knowledge or skill cannot be contained in any one element or dimension of a system, for knowledge is constantly emerging and spilling into other systems. No actor has an essential self or knowledge outside these relationships: nothing is given in the order of things, but performs itself into existence. In human resource development applications of complexity theory, attention would be drawn to the relationships among learners and the environment. For example, an organizational change initiative would focus on enabling connections instead of training individuals to “acquire” understanding of the new policy – connections between this initiative and the many other initiatives likely to be lurking in the system, between parts of the system, between the initiative and the system’s cultures, and between people, language and technologies involved in the change. It would encourage experimentation among people and objects involved in the change, and would focus on amplifying the advantageous possibilities that emerge among these connections as people tinker with objects and language involved. Learning is defined as expanded possibilities for action, or becoming “capable of more sophisticated, more flexible, more creative action” (Davis and Sumara, 2006). Learning as expansion of objects and ideas: cultural-historical activity theory Cultural-historical activity theory (CHAT), by now well-known to analysts of work-based practice and learning, analyses these ongoing dynamic interactions with an “expansive” view of learning (Engestro¨m, 2001; Fuller and Unwin, 2004). Derived from activity theory with Marxist roots, CHAT focuses on activity as the unit of analysis. It highlights the sociomaterial interactions particularly among artefacts, system objects and patterns, individual/group perspectives, and the histories through which these dynamics emerged. Material artefacts (objects, tools, technologies, signs) are considered a primary means of transmitting knowledge, for artefacts are understood to consolidate knowledge, mediate social interaction and the negotiation of knowledge, and suggest alternative modes of operation (Miettinen et al., 2008). CHAT studies examine a system’s historical emergences and relations among these material artefacts as well as divisions of labour, cultural norms and perspectives enmeshed in the system: “how things came to be as they are, how they came to be viewed in ways that they are, and how they are appropriated in the course of developmental trajectories” (Sawchuk, 2003). Close attention is given to the system’s “objects” (the problem spaces at which action is directed). Emphasis is placed on the contradictions inherent within organizations, such as the common tension between emphasis on competency and control and injunctions for innovation involving risk and experimentation. When these contradictions become sufficiently exacerbated or questioned through actors’ negotiations, “learning” occurs – where learning is viewed as collective “expansion” of the system’s objective and practices.

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From a CHAT perspective then, expansive learning is fundamentally a mediated process, explained as the “construction and resolution of successively evolving tensions or contradictions in a complex system that includes the object or objects, the mediating artifacts, and the perspectives of the participants” (Engestro¨m, 1999, p. 384). As various forms of contradiction are partially or wholly resolved, the system’s learning, knowledge, “objects” and related practices become expanded. Thus expansive learning involves shifts in the system’s activity purposes and processes, in the problems that are framed and the knowledge that becomes visible: it is particularly useful for understanding innovation or the uptake of knowledge-creation in organizations (Engestro¨m, 1999) What becomes distinguished as novel or useful depends on what problems become uppermost in a particular activity system, what knowledge is valued most there, and indeed what knowledge is recognized and responded to by the system elements. Sawchuk’s (2003, p. 21) study of technology learning among workers showed how people’s participation in computer learning practices was inseparable from sociomaterial dynamics: “integrated with everyday life and mediated by artifacts including computer hardware and software, organizational settings, oral devices, class habitus, trade unions, and working-class culture”. He analysed encounters among participants to reveal how their “patchwork” of learning opportunities unfolded in informal networks across overlapping systems of activity – on the job as well as at home with the kids, fixing a car with buddies, struggling in computer labs. The material dynamics of these systems – their artifacts and the histories and cultures embedding these artifacts in practices – are as important as the social dimensions of community, language, routines and perspectives in tracing the knowledge that is produced and the changes in people and practices that emerge through contradictions. Learning as “translation” and mobilization: actor network theory Actor-network theory (ANT), claim its continuing proponents, is not a theory but a sensibility – indeed, many diffused sensibilities that have evolved in ways that eschew its original tenets. Their shared commitment is to trace the process by which elements come together – and manage to hold together – to assemble collectives, or “networks” in ANT-ese. These networks produce force and other effects: knowledge, identities, rules, routines, behaviours, new technologies and instruments, regulatory regimes, reforms, illnesses and so forth. No anterior distinctions such as “human being” or social “structure” are recognized. Selected concepts of this field that have been most frequently applied to questions of learning, knowledge generation and practice include central notions of: symmetry – that objects, nature, technology and humans all exercise influence in assembling and mobilizing the “networks” that comprise tools, knowledge, institutions, policies, and identities; translation and stabilization – the micro-negotiations that work to perform networks into existence and maintain them while concealing these dynamic translations; the processes of enrolment and mobilization that work to include and exclude; and the fluid objects and quasi-objects produced by networks that perform themselves as stable, even “black-boxed”, knowledge and bodies (Fenwick and Edwards, forthcoming). ANT takes knowledge generation to be a joint exercise of relational strategies within networks that are spread across space and time and performed through inanimate;, e.g. books, mobile phones, measuring instruments, projection screens,

boxes, locks – as well as animate beings in precarious arrangements. Learning and knowing are performed in the processes of assembling and maintaining these networks, as well as in the negotiations that occur at various nodes comprising a network. ANT studies are particularly useful for tracing the ways that things come together. It can show how things are invited or excluded, how some linkages work and others do not, and how connections are bolstered to make themselves stable and durable by linking to other networks and things. Further, and perhaps most interesting, ANT focuses on the minute negotiations that go on at the points of connection. Things – not just humans, but the parts that make up humans and nonhumans – persuade, coerce, seduce, resist, and compromise each other as they come together. They may connect with other things in ways that lock them into a particular collective, or they may pretend to connect, partially connect, or feel disconnected and excluded even when they are connected. Gherardi and Nicolini (2000) studied how cement-laying workmen learn safety skills, using actor-network theory to examine how knowledge is “translated” at every point as it moves through a system. Safety knowledge was embedded throughout the system: in safety manuals, protective equipment that workers were required to wear and use, signs reinforcing safety rules, and inspectors with lists of specific safety practices. However at each node within this system, safety knowledge was continually being modified or even transgressed. For example, one workman would show another how to change a new safety procedure to make a task easier, or two together would modify a tool to solve a problem, depending on who was watching, of course. At other points in the system, the crew foreman negotiated the language of the safety assessment report with the industrial inspector. Deadlines and weather conditions caused different safety knowledge to be performed and different standards of evaluation. The equipment itself, and the crew’s culture, embedded or “grounded” a history of use possibilities and constraints that influenced the safety skills performed by those who interacted with the equipment. No skill or knowledge had a recognizable existence outside its use within the sociomaterial networks of the inter-connected networks. In ANT readings, nothing is given in the order of things, but performs itself into existence. Discussion: socio-material perspectives of learning All three perspectives – complexity theory, cultural-historical activity theory and actor-network theory – while deriving from very different theoretical roots and premises, bear commonalities. First, all three take the whole system as the unit of analysis, appreciating human/nonhuman action and knowledge as entangled in systemic webs, and acknowledging the processes of boundary-making and exclusion that establish what is taken to be a “system” and its “elements”. Second, they all focus on closely tracing the formations and stabilization of elements – all bodies including knowledge – that are produced, reinforced or transformed by subjects that emerge with/in a particular activity. That is, they all trace interactions among non-human as well as human parts of the system, emphasizing both the heterogeneity of system elements and the need to focus on relations, not separate things or separate individuals. Third, they all understand human knowledge and learning in the system to be embedded in material action and inter-action (or intra-action), rather than focusing on internalized concepts, meanings and feelings of any one participant. In other words,

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they do not privilege human consciousness or intention, but trace how knowledge, knowers and known (representations, subjects and objects) emerge together with/in activity. More perhaps than the other perspectives, complexity theory provides a rich analysis of the biological (as well as social, personal, cultural) flows inherent in materialization processes, the elaborate intertwining of human/nonhuman elements, and the non-linear simultaneous dynamics and conditions which produce emergence. The “system” in complexity theory is an effect produced through self-organization via these dynamics and is continuously adaptive, so studies are able to model system patterns in various scalar spaces as they interact, shift and change. Knowledge (e.g. new possibilities, innovations, practices) emerges along with identities and environments when the system affords sufficient diversity, redundancy and multiple feedback loops. Diversity is not to be “managed” towards producing greater homogeneity, as some approaches to workplace learning might advocate, but to be interconnected. In elaborating this point, Davis and Sumara (2006) explains that difference in an identified system needs ways to become visible – the conditions must enable the enactment of difference – which it often is not. As diverse elements become enacted they must also be able to interconnect through overlap. In classrooms or organizations, emergence can be enabled where there is diversity and constraints (purposes and rules of engagement) through: amplifying difference and perturbations, decentralizing organizing processes, encouraging continuous interaction, and ensuring ongoing feedback among various elements/sites (Davis and Sumara, 2006; Stacey, 2005). By contrast, in cultural-historical activity theory, organizations are viewed as sites of central contradictions and ideological struggle between those who control the means of production and those whose labour and knowledge are exploited. These are the Marxist roots of this theory, although it moves well beyond binary conceptions of organizations as sites of class struggle between dominant and oppressed groups, where “learning” is conceived as either reproducing given power relations or transforming them through collective politicization and resistance. The Marxist notion of systemic “contradictions” is central to CHAT, and individual perspectives and interests are constantly at play in negotiating these contradictions. In these features, CHAT retains a more humanist orientation than either complexity or ANT. This human-centric analysis is also evident in the clear delineation of non-human “artefacts” as bounded, distinct from humans, and while embedding cultural histories, are relegated to the role of mediating human activity. CHAT also foregrounds a socio-political analysis of human activity, including constructs such as “division of labour” and “community” (and even social class, prominent in many CHAT analyses), which is anterior to the emergence of elements that may or may not comprise a “system”. However, CHAT affords a rich approach to analysing precisely these political dynamics that are so important to workplace organizations while insisting that these dynamics intermingle the material with the social. Complexity theory can only address the political through severe (and some would argue inappropriate) stretching of its constructs. CHAT also theorizes the historical emergence of the socio-cultural/material in activity systems in ways that complexity theory cannot. ANT approaches have been compared to CHAT although they share little in their ontological assumptions (for an extended comparison from an activity theory perspective working with early ANT accounts, see Miettinen, 1999). ANT (including

the many afterANT commentaries) offers the most radical material challenge to understandings of learning, work and organization. When anyone speaks of a system or structure ANT asks, How has it been compiled? Where is it? What is holding it together? All things are assemblies, connected in precarious networks that require much ongoing work to sustain their linkages. ANT traces how these assemblages are made and sustained, how they order behaviours as well as space and objects, but also how they can be unmade and how “counter-networks” or alternative forms and spaces can take shape and develop strength. ANT has also challenged the tendency to seek “relations”, showing that the relative stability of certain networks occurs not through their coherences but through their incoherences and ambivalences. ANT commentators play with scale, and reject dualisms of local/global or micro/macro. There are no supra-structural entities, explains Latour (1999, p. 18), because “big does not mean ‘really’ big or ‘overall’ or ‘overarching’, but connected, blind, local, mediated, related”. ANT also shows how knowledge is generated through the process and effects of these assemblages coming together. ANT offers us, finally, a way to challenge notions of “learning” as a process occurring in individuals’ conscious minds. In ANT, all things are network effects: a concept, a text, an organizational routine or breakdown, an oppressive regime, a teacher, worker or manager. In fact any thing or human being, human intention, consciousness, desire, etc. emerges and oscillates through various translations at play in material network effects, sometimes appearing simultaneously as multiple ontologies. ANT focuses on the circulating forces and minute interactions that get things done through the networks/ assemblages of elements acting on one another. As Latour (2005, p. 44) wrote: Action is not done under the full control of consciousness; action should rather be felt as a node, a knot, and a conglomerate of many surprising sets of agencies that have to be slowly disentangled. It is this venerable source of uncertainty that we wish to render vivid again in the odd expression of actor-network.

And what about theorization of work[3] in each perspective? Clearly, CHAT focuses explicitly on work in Marxist terms, as a specific societal activity where workers are alienated from work while induced to engage it as meaningful. These terms pre-configure particular concepts of society and the social, as well as particular forms of activity called “work” and human bodies in distinct roles as “workers”. These terms also are linked to concepts of value (use and exchange), capital and ownership, creating windows of analysis that shape observation of organizational activities, including whatever is construed to be work and learning activity. In complexity theory, “work” is not distinguished from other activities comprising the emergence of a system, as an economically structured set of relations and activities. Nor does complexity theory equate an organization or other site of work to a complex adaptive system. Boundaries are conceptualized as emerging through self-organizing processes. However, organizational theorists such as Stacey (2005) have shown how complexity theory can illuminate the emergence of novel forms of order in (work) activity, the uncanny ways that a system self-modifies regardless of efforts to manipulate it (e.g. through labour strikes, technological implementations, or managerial interventions), and the importance of micro-interconnections among people and things that can create massive and unpredictable changes. Actor-network theory also does not explicitly differentiate “work” from any other activity, and indeed invites us to consider how we might argue for a sensible distinction. Nonetheless, ANT is closely attuned to the politics through

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which particular practices and purposes (that some may associate with “work”) come to be assembled and extended to translate a range of identities, behaviours, bodies, commitments, and so forth. ANT’s particular interest in how heterogeneous things, human and nonhuman, came to be connected to form these practices, and the quantities of work that hold them together in the face of blockages and counter-networks, is useful for showing how powerful, entrenched networks emerge and are sustained, as well as for glimpsing openings within such networks for alternate possibilities. Neither ANT nor complexity theory accepts anterior constructs such as “work” and “alienation”, or “structure” and “agency”, as they begin from different understandings of what constitutes reality. One difficulty of reading these three perspectives against each other is maintaining faith in their own distinct metaphysics. To impose the constructs of one on another to evaluate its capacity for robust analysis is to commit an error of the fold: insisting on ontological singularity and folding all perspectives into one which is granted a transcendent status. For all three perspectives, questions of interest are around how disparate elements and their linkages are performed and reconfigured through local practices of materialization. All three examine how practices become fixed and durable in time and space, and seek out the ambivalences, uncertainties and contradictions – the openings. A key contribution of them all is to de-couple learning and knowledge production from a strictly human-centered socio-cultural ontology, and to liberate agency from its conceptual confines as a human-generated force. Instead, agency as well as knowledge is understood as enacted in the emergence and interactions – as well as the exclusionings – occurring in the smallest encounters. In these material enactments, this “material-discursive agency”, boundaries and properties of elements come into being, subjects and objects are delineated, and relations are constituted that appear to glue them together. Nothing is determined, and (unknown) radical future possibilities are available at every encounter. Notes 1. It is dangerous to try to categorize theoretical or philosophical perspectives, particularly when diverse writers and positions are called into presence under one transcendent term that may fit uneasily with their particular projects. This short paper attempts mainly to show certain broad similarities of realist perspectives that foreground material concerns as well as multiplicity, and to suggest possibilities of these approaches for work-learning research. It does not argue for a new grand ontology, nor for replacing other perspectives with those interested in the socio-material. Exclusions are necessary given the limited scope here, but important literature for work-learning researchers that could be considered socio-material analyses include feminist technology studies (e.g. Bray, 2007), speculative realism (e.g. Harmon, 2009; Nancy, 2000), Knorr-Cetina’s (1997) work on object-relations in professional knowledge, mobility studies (e.g. Sheller and Urry, 2006) and many others. 2. Important critiques – and responses – have been generated as these theoretical conceptions have proliferated in a range of uptakes across the social sciences, including education and organization studies. Issues of subjectivity, ethics, dangers of totalization and formulaic models, researchers’ presence, representation of absence and multiplicity, etc. have been widely debated within each conception. While such debates cannot be addressed satisfactorily in this brief overview, interested readers might start by consulting Sawchuk et al. (2005), Educational Philosophy and Theory Vol. 40 No. 1 (2008) (special issue on

complexity and education), Osberg and Biesta (2009), Law and Hassard (1999), and Fenwick and Edwards (2010 forthcoming). 3. I am indebted to an anonymous reviewer who suggested that CHAT is the only perspective of the three to explicitly theorize work. While this may be true, CHAT’s analysis of “work” emerges from a particular metaphysics that other perspectives do not share, based on anterior constructs and generating normative assumptions about what comprises work, the “worker”, and society.

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