Three summers ago, Jim Ratcliff and I set off from State College in
the early dawn of a beautiful July morning, headed for Pittsburgh to
attend the higher education-related portions of the annual meeting of the
Education Commission of the States (ECS). One of our goals was to learn
more about the major issues with which state and federal higher education
policymakers and their staffs were wrestling. For me, it was a Day of
Revelation--the first conference I had attended in over twenty years where
I knew only a handful of the people. More disturbing, I discovered that
not only did I not know these people, I knew little about the issues they
discussed. Even their language was different: strange technical terms,
opaque acronyms, references to unfamiliar state and federal regulations,
and references to leading thinkers and writers with whom I was completely
unfamiliar. The conference attendees returned the favor: None of them
knew me, with or without my name tag. Nor did they know what sorts of
things I study and write about. Never in my 23-year professional life
have I felt so isolated from the world of higher education.
[End Page 5]
I know the dangers of drawing conclusions from a sample of one, but I
don't believe I am alone in my isolation. Indeed, I have since wondered
whether most of the people at that ECS conference (or any other conference
where state education policymakers and their staffs gather) would feel the
same sense of isolation that I felt if they attended an ASHE meeting. Why
should ASHE and ECS conference participants share so little in common?
A decade ago, George Keller (1985) published an article in
Change
entitled "Trees Without Fruit: The Problem with Research about Higher
Education." That provocative essay opened with the statement: "It's
peculiar but it's a fact: hardly anyone in higher education pays
attention to the research and scholarship about higher education"
(p. 7). According to Keller, most of the research on higher education
is preoccupied with methods; avoids education's larger issues; neglects
the educational policies, actions, and decisions that institutions and
legislatures must confront, and is written for other researchers rather
than for "those who must act" (p. 8).
Keller is not the only person to offer such a critique or to call
higher education scholars to the study of policy questions. Clif
Conrad (1989), in his 1988 ASHE presidential address, Patricia Crosson
(1989), in her vice-presidential address to the 1988 annual meeting of
Division J (Postsecondary Education) of the American Educational Research
Association, and Michael Nettles (1995) in his 1993 ASHE presidential
address, have all urged higher education researchers to become more
involved in policy-relevant research. I am the third ASHE president in
six years to speak to this point. An entire issue of the 1986 volume of
The Review of Higher Education,
guest edited by David Leslie and Joseph Beckham (1986), was devoted to
an examination of the state of higher education research. Frank Newman,
President of the Education Commission of the States, has pointed out:
"In today's higher education research and its journals, the really
urgent issues facing higher education seldom get addressed" (qtd. in
Keller, 1985, p. 7). And Dan Layzell (1990), then Assistant Director
for Fiscal Affairs at the Illinois Board of Higher Education, in a 1990
"Opinion" column in the
Chronicle of Higher Education,
asked: "Why
should
policymakers pay any attention to what researchers are saying?" (italics
his). Layzell is quick to add:
I do not ask this lightly or with disrespect for the scholarly endeavor. I
say this regretfully, from the perspective of one who has completed
graduate training in higher education and who helps formulate state
policy affecting colleges and universities. Like others, . . . I find
myself having difficulty straddling the widening gulf between higher
education research and policy research (p. B1).
I know how my 19-year-old daughter would respond were I to describe
this history: Tapping the button switch in the cradle of an imaginary
telephone with her right hand while holding the thumb of her left hand
to her ear and
[End Page 6]
her pinky finger to her mouth to simulate a telephone handset, she would
ask: "Like, hellll-O? Is this line
working?!? I mean, is anybody out
there?"
What accounts for the gulf between higher education research and the
worlds of policy and practice? A number of explanations are offered,
but the dominant and most persuasive explanation is that we have
come to think of the study of higher education as one of the social
science disciplines. I am not suggesting that the tools of the social
sciences cannot be used to advantage in the study of our colleges and
universities. I
am
suggesting that we have forgotten how to do that, that we have forgotten
our roots. Higher education as a field of study (and ASHE as an
organization) developed out of the application of certain of the social
sciences to higher education problems. A small number of psychologists,
sociologists, historians, political scientists, economists, and
anthropologists shared a common interest in the improvement of the
educational and organizational effectiveness of America's higher
education system. The study of higher education was (and is) an
applied
field of study, not a social science discipline in itself, and the
difference is a significant one.
The shift in the conception of higher education as a field of study from
that of a multidisciplinary, applied field toward that of a traditional
discipline is neither new nor unique to higher education research. Nearly
thirty years ago, Jencks and Riesman (1968), in
The Academic Revolution,
noted the tendency of free-standing professional schools to move
away from their applied, action research roots toward more scholarly
activities once they had affiliated with a university.
We may have underestimated the power of the disciplines to control
and focus scholarly attention. The conception of higher education as
a discipline requires the rigorous application of research designs
and analytical methods that are widely accepted in the discipline. The
concern with theory and fidelity to a set of methods (whether quantitative
or qualitative), in turn, leads to an examination of narrower, more
precisely defined topics and questions. It also promotes a tighter,
more specialized language. The cumulative effect of these tendencies
is the placement of one's work within an established discourse among a
community of like-minded scholars with training and interests similar
to one's own. Such specialization and narrowness, however, also reduce
or eliminate access to that work by practitioners and policymakers who
may be able to apply it to the solution of educational problems.
I say again: As a profession, we have forgotten our roots. Instead, we
have become preoccupied with a singular conception of research. Boyer
(1990) identified at least four forms of scholarship: "the scholarship of
discovery; the scholarship of integration; the scholarship
of application; and the scholarship of teaching"
(p. 16; italics his). Higher education researchers have come to
concentrate on the "scholarship of discovery," the pursuit of knowledge
[End Page 7]
for its own sake and the commitment to contribute to the storehouse of
knowledge on a given topic. But to what end? Rediscovering our roots
will require a return to "the scholarship of application." According
to Boyer, this form of scholarly activity
moves toward engagement as the scholar asks, "How can knowledge be
responsibly applied to consequential problems?" . . . And further,
"Can social problems
themselves define an agenda for scholarly investigation?" (p. 21;
italics his).
The scholarship of application is synergistic, "theory and practice
vitally interact, and one renews the other" (p. 23). Oscar Handlin
argues that "scholarship has to prove its worth not on its own terms
but by service to the nation and the world" (qtd. in Boyer, 1990, p. 23).
It is the general tendency away from action, practice- and policy-relevant
research toward the more scholastic that should concern us if the
research we produce is not to become what Keller (1985) characterized
as "a literature without an audience" (p. 8). Reversing this trend and
engaging in more practice- and policy-oriented research is, I believe,
both a professional responsibility and a self-interested necessity. In
the current financial climate, accountability driven as it is, we cannot
expect continued public support for research that does not serve public
needs. And no one I know is forecasting an early change in that climate.
So where do we begin? I have five suggestions:
1. We must recognize and accept the study of higher education for
what it is--a multidisciplinary, applied field.
We must direct greater research attention to issues confronting
practitioners and policymakers. Our attention should be given to sectors
of the knowledge base that have two characteristics: First, they are
(or soon will be) vitally important areas of higher education policy
or practice, and, second, the available research in these areas is
seriously deficient. The list of such issues is lengthy and includes,
among other topics, equality in educational and occupational choice
and attainment, fiscal and financial aid policies, rising tuitions and
costs, educational quality, administrative and learning productivity,
restructuring, economic development, and public accountability.
One of the more important of these empirical black holes concerns
the college experience and its consequences for such groups as
first-generation students, women in male-dominated fields, students of
color, part-time students, adults and returning students, and students
from low-income families. These are our students of the future. Currently,
45% of all undergraduates are enrolled part-time (up 34% from 1978). From
1980 to 1990, the number of students 25 years of age or older grew 34%,
and further growth (by about 14%) is anticipated before the end of this
century. Most of this growth will be accounted for by persons ages 35
to 44 (NCES, 1994).
[End Page 8]
Despite the clear demographic trends confronting our colleges
and universities, however, little research has been done on the
educational outcomes for nontraditional student groups. Only rarely
do studies explore whether the effects of our instructional and other
educational interventions are equally effective (or ineffective) for all
students, or whether those effects vary according to a students' gender,
race/ethnicity, age, socioeconomic status, or ability. Our curricula,
instructional methods, and out-of-class programs and activities all
rest on the assumption that the effects of college are general and not
conditional. But we don't really know whether that's the case or not.
Our community colleges constitute a second area that I believe requires
greater research attention. In many ways, it has been these institutions
that have been responsible for extending equal access to higher
education and greater social mobility to all Americans. Between 1978
and 1991, enrollments in four-year institutions grew by 23%. In two-year
institutions, they rose by 31%, and the number of two-year students is
expected to grow by another 11% before 2003 (NCES, 1992). Currently,
these schools constitute 28% of all colleges and universities in the
country and enroll 37% of all our students (Chronicle,
1995).
Despite the educational and social significance of community colleges,
however, the educational and administrative functioning and effectiveness
of these institutions remain largely unexamined. The dearth of
research cuts across areas of study, whether on students, faculty, or
organizations. While the belief persists that community colleges offer
a less rigorous and effective education than four-year institutions,
recent evidence from the National Study of Student Learning, conducted by
the National Center on Postsecondary Teaching, Learning, and Assessment,
indicates that there may be a relative parity between two- and four-year
institutions in their effects on students' cognitive growth (Pascarella,
Bohr, Nora, & Terenzini, 1995; Pascarella, Edison, Nora, Hagedorn,
& Terenzini, 1996). This emerging evidence, however, amounts to a
trickle at a time when a torrent is needed. The fact and problem remain:
Students beginning baccalaureate degree study at a community college are
15-18% less likely to complete that degree than students enrolling
at a four-year institution (Pascarella & Terenzini, 1991). Why? We
don't really know. Why do we know so little about the educational and
organizational functioning and effectiveness of institutions that enroll
nearly 4 in 10 of our students? Why does only about 5% of our research
on college effects focus on community colleges?
A third area to which I believe higher education researchers should
give greater attention is the instructional effectiveness of information
technology in general but of distance education in particular. The term
covers an enormous expanse of conceptual ground, encompassing widely
varied instructional approaches and media ranging from correspondence
courses, to pre-produced instructional television programs, to audio
conferencing,
[End Page 9]
audiographic conferencing, computer conferencing, and various forms
of videoconferencing.
Many campus administrators and state and federal policymakers view
distance education as a highly promising solution to current problems
relating to cost and instructional productivity. Whether technology
and distance education yield such gains in instructional productivity,
however, remains an open--but researchable--question. According to Moore
(1994), much of the available research is based on inadequate (usually
one-site) research designs and weak statistical methods, and is usually
"unrelated to any theoretical framework and [therefore] of limited
generalizability" (p. 5). Substantial work awaits us in examining the
relation between technology and learning outcomes and in ascertaining
the costs of improving learning and extending it to underserved groups.
Distance education has practical and policy implications that go far
beyond the classroom. The dazzling promise of technology appears to
have blinded us to a wide range of questions relating to faculty,
the curriculum, administrative and financial matters, and student and
faculty support systems. And then there are social equity questions. To
what extent do technological and instructional advances carry a cultural
or socioeconomic bias against those individuals and institutions in our
society with little or no access to computers and educationally related
telecommunications? The answer right now is: "We don't know."
Individual campuses and entire state systems are moving quickly into
this brave, new, expensive, educational world and others are queuing
up behind them. If colleges and universities are to invest wisely in
distance education and other instructional technologies, and if we are to
understand how distance education is reshaping the teaching and learning
environment, research is needed in a wide variety of areas.
Bringing our research to bear on some of the black holes of our knowledge
base, however, is only part of the challenge in striking a new balance
in our research between theory, on the one hand, and practical and
policy relevance on the other. Attitudes, values, reward systems, and
even philosophies will also have to change, which leads to my second
recommendation.
2. We must reconsider why we do research and write.
Do we write for publication and, thereby, enhanced prospects for
promotion and tenure? Or do we write to make a difference in the lives of
others? That is not a dichotomous choice, of course, but the overlap at
present is, I suspect, far smaller than it might be. Most of us study
the topics we do because we are interested in them and believe they
are important to others, although we are often vague--even in our own
minds--about who those "others" are and why they might be interested in
our work. Rediscovering our roots will mean confronting some potentially
painful questions: How will answers to the questions I pose contribute
to a better understanding of one or more of the
[End Page 10]
important problems confronting higher education and our country? Why
are these questions important? Will the focus and design of the research
serve practical and policy purposes or only theoretical ones? Redressing
the balance will also necessitate greater intellectual effort than
we now require of ourselves in clearly identifying and explicating
the implications of our findings for practice and policy, as well as
for theory.
3. We must reconsider the audiences for whom we write.
Not everyone will be good at doing policy-relevant research, of course,
and it is probably unreasonable to expect policy relevance in every
piece of research. Some studies
should
be written for other researchers. But doing so is a slippery slope. It
is far easier to write for an audience we know than one we do not. The
problem is that, for most of us, the audience we know best includes
primarily our scholarly colleagues, particularly those interested in
the same topical areas as we. The people for whom I have written most
were not those attending that Pittsburgh ECS meeting. I have always
hoped that policymakers would benefit from my work; but until recently,
I have never fully thought through how I expected them to learn of
(or from) my findings. The journals in which I have published are not
those which policymakers read, and I am not alone in this practice. As
the philosopher possum, Pogo, has said: "We have met the enemy, and he
is us."
Increasing the relevance of our research for practice and policy will
mean establishing closer and more frequent contacts with practitioners
and policymakers and their staffs. It will mean opening two-way lines of
communication between researchers and practitioners and policymakers. It
will mean adopting prose styles that avoid jargon and dense technical
explanations. (Writing clearly and forcefully about research, by the
way, does
not
mean "dumbing down" one's work.) It will mean reading the publications
policymakers read. It will mean occasionally attending and contributing
to the conferences they attend. It will mean doing readable, practice-
or policy-focused literature reviews (and I hasten to add that these
are as vitally important to practitioners and policymakers as they are
intellectually challenging to do!). It will mean writing for different
publications. Outlets such as
Change,
the
Chronicle of Higher Education,
the
AAHE Bulletin,
and the
Educational Record,
as well as the publications of such organizations as ECS, other
interstate compacts, and the National Conference of State Legislatures,
reach very different (and larger) audiences than most research journals.
4. We must review our graduate programs.
Graduate programs not only prepare students to become higher education
administrators or researchers, but they also serve as powerful
socializing agents. Graduate students learn about more things than the
history, curriculum, students, organization, administration, and research
methods of higher education from their faculty guides. They learn--and
in many cases internalize--their mentors' intellectual orientations,
value systems, criteria, and standards about what
[End Page 11]
constitute appropriate topics and good research. What we are teaching
them may not be conducive to the development of their awareness of policy
issues. In five of the last six years, for example, more than half to
two-thirds of the graduate students participating in the graduate student
policy seminar offered as part of the ASHE annual conference indicated
that they had had little or no exposure to state policy issues in their
doctoral programs.
Students preparing to become researchers should, as part of their graduate
programs, be exposed to the major policy issues and the tools available
to study them. Courses outside colleges of education in such areas as
policy analysis, economics, and public administration should be required
to broaden students' perspectives and skills for doing policy-relevant
research. Failure to expose graduate students to important state policy
questions and their analysis will only perpetuate (if not exacerbate)
the current gulf between higher education research and public higher
education policy.
5. Finally, we must search for ways in which ASHE can promote and
support policy-related research.
Following the 1993 ASHE meeting in Pittsburgh, the
ASHE Newsletter
carried an announcement that a group was forming to discuss policy
issues and research in higher education and invited interested persons to
join. When I called the individual identified in the notice to find out
about the group's progress, I learned that the effort had already died
on the vine. I'm told that a group interested in research in community
colleges suffered a similar fate. I encourage my successors, and all
ASHE members, to join me in finding ways in which we can both encourage
and support research that has promise for benefiting practitioners
and policymakers.
The challenges of returning to and honoring our roots as a
multidisciplinary, applied field of study are substantial, but they
have been before us for at least a decade. It is time to do something
about it. It will be well for us to remember a comment by John Gardner,
the former Secretary of the U.S. Department of Health, Education, and
Welfare (which I paraphrase): "In a society that disparages its plumbers
and honors its philosophers, neither the pipes nor the theories will
hold water." I earnestly hope that the day is not too far off when more
of us can walk into an ECS meeting and know the issues with which the
policymakers and legislative staff members in attendance are wrestling. I
also hope that those policymakers and their staff members will know
more of us because our research has helped them solve some of those
policy issues.
Patrick T. Terenzini is Professor and Senior Scientist at the Center
for the Study of Higher Education, The Pennsylvania State University,
University Park. This essay was initially delivered as the presidential
address at the annual meeting of the Association for the Study of Higher
Education, 3 November 1995, Orlando, Florida.
References
Boyer, E. L. (1990).
Scholarship reconsidered: Priorities for the professoriate.
Princeton, NJ: Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching.
The Chronicle of Higher Education: Almanac Issue.
(1955, September 1).
42(1).
Conrad, C. F. (1989, Spring). Meditations on the ideology of inquiry in
higher education: Exposition, critique, and conjecture.
Review of Higher Education, 12(3): 199-200.
Crosson, P. H. (1989, March). Suggestions for the postsecondary education
research agenda.
The Pen: Postsecondary Education Network,
7-8.
Jencks, C., & Riesman, D. (1968).
The academic revolution.
Garden City, NY: Doubleday.
Keller, G. (1985, January/February). Trees without fruit: The problem
with research about higher education.
Change, 17(1), 7-10.
Leslie, D. W., & Beckham. J. C. (1986). Research on higher education:
Dead end or new directions?
Review of Higher Education, 10(2), 123-28.
Layzell, D. T. (1990, October 24). Most research on higher education is
stale, irrelevant, and of little use to policy makers.
Chronicle of Higher Education, 37(8), B1, B3.
Moore, M. G. (1994, July 5). Trends and needs in distance education
research. Keynote address to the First International Conference on
Distance Education, Moscow, Russia.
National Center for Education Statistics. (1994).
Digest of education statistics, 1994.
Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Education, Office of Educational
Research and Improvement. (NCES 94-115)
Nettles, M. T. (1995). The emerging national policy agenda on higher
education assessment: A wake-up call.
Review of Higher Education, 18(3), 293-313.
Pascarella, E. T., Bohr, L., Nora, A., & Terenzini,
P. T. (1995). Cognitive effects of two-year and four-year colleges: Some
new evidence.
Educational Evaluation and Policy Analysis, 17(1), 83-96.
Pascarella, E. T., Edison, M., Nora, A., Hagedorn, L., & Terenzini,
P. T. (1995-96). Cognitive effects of community colleges and
four-year colleges: Further evidence from the national study of student
learning.
Community College Journal, 66(3), 35-39.
Pascarella, E. T., & Terenzini, P. T. (1991).
How college affects students: Findings and insights from twenty years
of research.
San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.
[an error occurred while processing this directive]