Coe (2012) and Waring (2012) contend that educational researchers cannot avoid taking a stand on ontology (the nature of the world), epistemology (the nature of knowledge) and methodology (the procedure or logic used). As they explain (ibid) usually a particular ontology, like realism – that is the approach whereby the real world is accepted as having an independent existence outside of the perception of individuals – goes hand in hand with a positivist epistemology, namely that the world (including social phenomena) can be measured. The adoption of a positivist epistemology in turn is associated with the use of an experimental methodology whereby the research is conducted by using experiments with measurable outcomes. Together, as these writers (ibid) contend, the ontology (realism) – epistemology (positivism) –
methodology (experimentalism) relationship constitutes a particular paradigm. However, as these writers go on to point out, the philosophical and theoretical neatness of particular paradigms is subject to very serious debate, one
contention being that paradigms are neither separate nor incompatible:
In this view, the differences are real and important but, in the words of Gage (1989), 'Paradigm differences do not require paradigm conflict.' For example, one may believe in a realist ontology but still emphasise an interpretive approach, focusing on the meaning that participants bring to a situation and using naturalistic observation with qualitative data to study them. (Coe 2012 8)
I go along with this view. In this thesis, I too employ an interpretive approach, using qualitative data, namely interview material regarding participants who were employed by the Local Authority, Keystone, the subject of my research. Whilst, as I contend, I use an analytical approach based on critical theory, I have also been influenced by Marx who, in terms of his famous dialectical materialist approach contends that there is an external social reality, the social relations of production, which exist independent of the will of human beings, but which crucially is subject to constant change and at certain times fundamental change (Marx 1979).
Having stated that Marx is an influence, it is important to emphasise that it will be counterproductive for me to read off from such a world view, expressed about the level of the whole of society, a mechanical application of this approach at the level of Keystone. Instead I have used Keystone in a
particular historical period as a case study of the intersecting issues of SEN, inclusion and claimed funding shortages.
Nevertheless, theorising about special education and inclusion is replete with philosophical and theoretical contention, confirming of course that debates in and about special education and inclusion go much deeper than special education and inclusion themselves. In the introduction to this thesis, I refer to debates about inclusion in the United States where Gallagher (2004),
Heshusius (2004) and Skrtic (2004) argue that the differences between those who are for inclusion and those who are against can be traced to the
respective differences between constructivists and empiricists. As far as they are concerned, those who want inclusion are eager to construct or rebuild a new reality whereas those who are opposed to inclusion want to be bound by existing empirical reality which embodies separation and segregation (ibid).
Indeed Thomas and Loxley (2001) state that theorising about special education is ‘something of an epistemic jumble’ (17). Furthermore, they reference Slee (1998) to show that there are many theoretical and political critiques and perspectives on special education. As Slee (1998) shows,
following Riddell (1996), such perspectives can be summarised as ‘essentialist perspectives’ associated with deficit approaches, social
constructionist approaches which see disability as social constructs (as the classification implies), materialist perspectives which borrow from Marx and are tied to the perpetuation of capitalism, postmodern perspectives which reject the Marxist approach, and disability movement perspectives which do not have a unifying theoretical stance (Thomas and Loxley 2001).
Slee’s (1998) typology is interesting because it shows that Coe (2012) and Waring’s (2012) theoretical – philosophical classification into wide and
generalised paradigms corresponding with the big divides between realist and constructivist ontologies, cannot be directly applied when trying to make sense of theoretical debates about special education. In Slee’s (1998) typology there is a clear link between his social constructionist perspective and a constructivist ontology. However, Slee’s (1998) classifications of materialist perspectives, postmodern perspectives and disability movement perspectives, all do not easily correspond with the over-arching paradigms described by Coe (2012) and Waring (2012).
Yet I am reluctant to wholly accept Thomas and Loxley’s argument (2001) that one can dispense with theory and that what is needed is an ‘atheoretical analysis’, notwithstanding the caveats with which they couch their argument:
If ‘atheoretical analysis’ in education is a contradiction in terms to some, it is anathema to others, who see any such analysis typifying a philistine anti-intellectual stance. (Thomas and Loxley 2001 6)
With such an analysis, it seems to me that Thomas and Loxley (2001), by their own admission, fall at the first hurdle. For an atheoretical analysis by its very nature is itself theoretical. After all, it is posed in theoretical terms. However, in their defence it must be conceded that Thomas and Loxley (ibid) are making an important point against the use – or abuse – of grand theory, the tendency to analyse in such a way that it fits in with, and becomes closed off by, one’s theoretical perspective. But their conclusion, a plea for a simpler
approach, must itself be critiqued. To give proper due to their argument, I will quote it at length:
We make an argument here for a loosening of hold on the erstwhile theoretical knowledge behind special education, contending that less of our inquiry into children’s difficulties at school – and, more importantly, less of our response to those difficulties – should be defined and tackled in the way that it has hitherto. An argument is made, if we are looking to the shape of an education system for the future, for more reliance by all in education – practitioners, planners, academics, researchers – on ideals about equity, social justice and opportunity for all. In pursuing those ideals, in improving the education system, we should accept rather than deny the insights which emerge by virtue of being human – insights which emerge from our own knowledge of learning; our own knowledge of failure, success, acceptance or rejection. (17)
These are laudable views. The call for all in education to be involved, whether academics or practitioners, is important because it breaks down the barriers between the so-called theoreticians and practitioners, which could give rise to an improved theory and practice by ensuring that theory is not the province of theoreticians and practice that of the practitioners. Their views also give succour to me because I was a practitioner who wanted to engage with theory. However, their argument becomes questionable when it is connected with the ideals of ‘equity, social justice and opportunity for all’. For, laudable as these ideals may be, it must also be acknowledged that these ideals, individually and collectively, are themselves laden – and loaded – with theory. So the argument of Thomas and Loxley comes full circle. Having called for an atheoretical stance they themselves land up with an approach which itself is laden with theory. Thus, try as they might, they cannot escape theory.
But the baby must not be thrown out with the bathwater. I have tried to show that I have some misgivings about the analysis of Thomas and Loxley (2001). Nevertheless, their important contribution about the way that theory in special education can be counterproductive, must be supported. Furthermore, in the
same book they extend their argument by raising some powerful evidence – showing that a central term used in special education, emotional and
behavioural difficulties (EBD) has no serious theoretical basis, relying on what they call ‘all kinds of quasi-scientific explanation’ (46). This should surely give all practitioners and theoreticians of special education serious cause for concern. So whereas I have some doubt about the analysis of Thomas and Loxley, I have to laud the useful insights they provide.
Likewise, whilst my theoretical position, based on critical theory as I have already stated, must be declared and must also be open to critical scrutiny, I hope that the information I provide and the findings I unearth can and will be used in the field, by those who subscribe to critical theory and by those who don’t. Certainly my approach has not been based on what Thomas and Loxley (2001), Slee (1998) and Skrtic (2004) decry – the tendency, in
theorising about special education, to work within theoretical strait-jackets and to muster arguments and evidence to fit in with, and reinforce, such narrowed thinking.