Clinton Golding

ABSTRACT: This article explores the role of principal leadership in creating a thinking school. It contributes to the school leadership literature by exploring the intersection of two important areas of study in education  school leadership and education for thinking  which is a particularly apt area of study, because effective school leadership is crucial if students are to learn to be critical and creative thinkers, yet this connection has not be widely investigated. We describe how one principal, Hinton, turned around an underperforming school by using critical and creative philosophical thinking as the focus for students, staff and parents. Then, drawing on the school leadership literature, the article describes seven attributes of school leadership beginning with four articulated by Leithwood and colleagues (2006) (building vision and setting direction; redesigning the organisation; understanding and developing people; managing the teaching and learning program), and adding three others (influence; self-development; and responding to context). This framework is then used in a case study format in a collaboration between practitioner and researchers to first explore evidence from empirical studies and personal reflection about Hinton’s leadership of Buranda State School, and second to illuminate how these general features of school leadership apply to creating a thinking school. Based on the case study and using the general characteristics of school leadership, a framework for leading a thinking school is described. Because the framework is based on a turnaround school, this framework has wide applicability: to schools that are doing well as an indication of how to implement a contemporary approach to curriculum and pedagogy; and to schools that are underperforming and want a rigorous, high expectation and contemporary way to improve student learning.

Philip Cam has been an inspiration to me in his approach to Philosophy for Children, and I have tried to follow the trail he blazed. He is a master of developing what I call ‘practitioner theories’ of Philosophy for Children. These are practical theories designed to be useful for practitioners of Philosophy for Children, rather than abstract theories designed to contribute to the scholarship of Philosophy for Children. I first explain what I mean by a practitioner theory, using Cam’s Question Quadrant as an illustration. Then, for the rest of the article I give a more detailed analysis and elaboration of Cam’s practitioner theory about assessing thinking. This theory first appears in Thinking Together in the form of a table that teachers can use to assess how frequently their students perform different thinking moves. For example, we can assess student thinking based on how often they ask questions, or build on what someone else has said. I will show how this seemingly simple theory captures a great deal of theoretical complexity, combining themes about thinking moves from Splitter and Sharp, making thinking visible from Perkins and Richhart, and habits of mind from Costa and Kallick. I will also show how we can develop Cam’s practitioner theory into a sharper tool for assessing thinking if we incorporate further insights about learning to think, and assessing thinking, from Perkins, Dewey, Piaget, Vygotsky and Bloom.

Philosophy in Schools is a complex educational practice, unfamiliar to most teachers and philosophers, subtly different to similar forms of education, and so easy to misunderstand and mishandle. Because of this, a common worry for practitioners is whether they are doing it properly. Given this slipperiness of Philosophy in Schools, one of my main concerns has been to give an account that would be useful; that could guide practitioners to teach well. I presented my first account in a 2006 article ‘What is Philosophy in Schools?’ which was based on 14 years’ experience as a Philosophy in Schools teacher and teacher educator. Now, by invitation of the editors, I have the privilege to present a re-worked, improved account. This builds on and synthesises my previous publications, but it also significantly refines anything I have previously written, and is the culmination of my work in Philosophy in Schools.

This article addresses learning in desktop virtual worlds where students role play for professional education. When students role play in such virtual worlds, they can learn some knowledge and skills that are useful in the physical world. However, existing learning theories do not provide a plausible explanation of how performing non-verbal virtual world actions (e.g. performing a virtual chest examination in a virtual hospital) can lead to the learning of the physical world equivalent. Some theories are particularly implausible because they claim that students learn to perform physical world actions by acting on the virtual world in an embodied way. This is implausible because learning requires a high degree of correspondence between the learning performance and the target performance, and there is insufficient physical correspondence between the performance of a virtual world action where students click on a mouse to make the avatar take actions and the physical-world equivalent where students perform the action with their own body. In this article, we use Austin’s speech act theory to provide a more plausible theory of learning in virtual worlds. We show how non-verbal virtual-world actions performed by avatars can function as performatives and as performatives, they can correspond sufficiently to physical world actions to explain how performing non-verbal virtual-world actions can lead to physical world learning.

Central to Philosophy for Children is the commitment that children follow their inquiry where it leads. Teacher interventions that introduce questions and problems from the philosophical tradition are problematic for this commitment. They seem to be necessary to scaffold a rigorous inquiry, but they also threaten todirect the inquiry down the teacher’s chosen path rather than the students’. This paper suggests a way to balance following student inquiry where it leads with introducing knowledge from the philosophical tradition. It will be argued that conceiving of the P4C teacher as a philosophical expedition guide will be useful to find this balance.

Philosophy for Children is an important educational programme that engages children in philosophical inquiry as the means for them to make sense of the world. A key to its success is that students make progress in their attempts to make sense of the world or, more colloquially, they develop better ideas. Although philosophical progress is essential to the value of Philosophy for Children, there is little written on this concept and what is written tends to be merely suggestive. The result is that teachers and students often find themselves lost in the dialogical, open inquiry of Philosophy for Children where there are no pre-determined end-points or uncontroversial ‘ right ’ answers that they can move towards. This thesis uses philosophical analysis and inquiry to uncover the impediments to progress faced by this educational programme, and to answer the question: What conception of philosophical progress would be efficacious for Philosophy for Children?

This article explains how teachers might navigate inquiry learning despite the experience of a constant tension between abandoning their students and controlling them. They do this by conceiving of themselves as guides who decide the path with students, not for them. I build on a conception of teaching as guiding from Burbules, and argue that inquiry teachers should take the particular stance of an expedition-educator (rather than the stance of either a tour-leader or an expedition-leader). They should guide students to make progress during co-inquiry, rather than leading them to follow the teacher’s agenda. This stance gives a heuristic they can use to balance control and abandonment in their pedagogical practice—they judge which pedagogical actions to take, and when, according to which actions are likely to help their students to engage in autonomous inquiry and hence learn to guide themselves. Students thus can learn to inquire by participating in an inquiry which is guided, but not controlled, by their teacher.

Philosophical research tends to be done separately from empirical research, but this makes it difficult to tackle questions which require both. To make it easier to address these hybrid research questions, I argue that we should sometimes combine philosophical and empirical investigations. I start by describing a continuum of research methods from data collecting and analysing to philosophical arguing and conceptualising. Then, I outline one possible middle-ground position where research is equally philosophical and empirical: the Community of Inquiry reconceived as a research method. In this method, a group of participants engage in philosophical discussion and dialogue to answer the research question . I argue that this collaborative philosophical inquiry, moderated by a philosopher, provides a new method for collecting and testing data. The results are philosophical positions and arguments blended with empirical findings. Next, I illustrate how I used this philosophical–empirical method in a recent study to evaluate the strength of educational metaphors. I conclude that the Community of Inquiry is a viable means of combining philosophical and empirical research, and a new and worthwhile method for research in education

There is no consensus about appropriate philosophical method that can be relied on to settle philosophical questions and instead of established findings, there are multiple conflicting arguments and positions, and widespread disagreement and debate. Given this feature of philosophy, it might seem that philosophy has proven to be a worthless endeavour, with no possibility of philosophical progress. The challenge then is to develop a conception of philosophy that reconciles the lack of general or lasting agreement with the possibility of philosophical progress. I present such a conception in this paper. I argue that the aim of philosophy is to resolve philosophical problems, which is different from establishing settled and final answers or positions. Philosophical problems involve inadequate or incongruous conceptions that cannot be settled once and for all but can be resolved by transforming our conceptions so they are now congruous and adequate. There is philosophical progress every time a warranted, defensible position is developed that resolves a philosophical problem, even if there are competing resolutions and further problems to resolve, as there always are in philosophy

Class discussions about ethical, social, philosophical and other controversial issues frequently result in disagreement. This leaves a problem: has there been any progress? This article introduces and analyses the concept ‘collective epistemic progress’ in order to resolve this problem. The analysis results in four main ways of understanding, guiding and judging collective epistemic progress in the face of seemingly irreconcilable differences. Although it might seem plausible to analyse and judge collective epistemic progress by the increasing vigour of the dialogue community, by how long the conversation is continued, or by how close we have moved towards consensus or the truth, I argue that these fail to provide serviceable analyses or epistemic criteria. Yet, we might instead analyse, understand and judge progress using epistemic criteria such as whether we have: furthered the one distributed process of inquiry or deliberation; and reached mutual understanding; inquiry milestones; or consensus about our procedures.

In Philosophy of Education we frequently argue for or against different educational theories. Yet, as I illustrate in this analysis of two articles, in order to maintain the abstract theoretical distinctions, we are liable to ignore the concrete details of practice, caricature the theories we reject and make false distinctions. The two articles that I analyse, one from Golding and one from Boghossian, grapple with the pedagogical theories of transmission teaching, constructivism, pragmatism and Socratic pedagogy, in the context of dialogical philosophy teaching. As a result of my analysis, I first present three examples where the authors have rejected abstract theories based on arguments that I show to be strawmen: These theories would not or could not be adopted in practice. Then, I present two examples where the authors attempt to make distinctions between educational theories which seem sound in the abstract, but which turn out to be false distinctions if we consider the details of concrete practice. My conclusion is that, in these two articles, abstract educational theory is prone to problems when it ignores concrete practice. Although I am presenting a case study, and do not argue that my conclusion is generalisable, I do suggest some reasons why this conclusion might apply more widely to Philosophy of Education. My recommendation is that we be more discerning in our treatment of educational theories and more mindful of the educational practices that they entail. We should acknowledge the practical similarities between different abstract theories rather than forcing caricatured distinctions.

Although constructivist discussions in the classroom are often treated as if they were all of the same kind, in this paper I argue that there are subtle but important distinctions that need to be made. An analysis of these distinctions shows that there is a continuum of different constructivist discussions. At one extreme are teacher-directed discussions where students are led to construct the ‘correct’ understanding of a pre-decided conclusion; at the other extreme are unstructured discussions where students are free to construct any understanding. While there are many positions on the continuum, the middle ground is occupied by discussions that find a balance between teacher-control and student-independence, and between having set-answers and a free-for-all. I argue that the Community of Inquiry is a useful conception of constructivist discussions in this middle ground