Lesson Idea Draft

Merriam, S., Baumgartner, L. (2020). Learning in Adulthood: A Comprehensive Guide (4th ed.). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. ISBN: 9781119490487.

Chapter 1

The Social Context of Adult Learning

Learning, even self-directed learning, rarely occurs “in splendid isolation from the

world in which the learner lives; … it is intimately related to that world and

affected by it” (Jarvis, 2012, p. 11). What one wants to learn, what is offered, and

the ways in which one learns are determined to a large extent by the nature of the

society at any time. Contrast the young male apprentice of colonial times learning

to be a blacksmith with today's middle-aged woman learning a new smartphone

app, or the preparation needed to become a medical doctor at the turn of the

twentieth century—less than a high school diploma—with today's long and

specialized training.

It can also be argued that the nature of society at any point in time determines the

relative emphasis placed on adult learning. In preindustrial societies, the rate of

change was such that what a person needed to know to function as an adult could

be learned in childhood. In societies hurrying to catch up, however, and in our

own society with its accelerated rate of change, the urgency of dealing with social

realities is felt by adults. In this global, increasingly technologically interconnected

world, “the context for adult learning is growing more complex” (Nicolaides &

Marsick, 2016, p. 9). The challenge for learners and adult educators is to

understand the learning context whether it be “simple, complicated, complex [or]

chaotic” and to adapt our learning and teaching (p. 10). Further, social issues such

as immigration and climate change and individual concerns such as those related

to health or family or finances often result in individuals attending courses or

learning informally about these issues.

Although adult education is responsive to the context in which it takes place, it

affects that same context. Take, for example, enormous changes in our society

brought on by advances in technology. Advances in telemedicine mean doctors

can diagnose patients who live at a distance using increasingly sophisticated webbased

communication and patients can use smartphone apps to monitor their

health. Auto mechanics must now be trained to diagnose engine problems using

computers; auto manufacturers tout self-driving cars; a smartphone can be

turned into a 3D printer; misplaced items such as keys, wallets, and backpacks can

be located via smartphone. Adult education has responded to these technological

advances by offering courses to learn this technology so that we can better

function in our digital environment.

Although the preceding examples of learning are particularly contemporary,

historically there has always been an interlocking of adult learning needs with the

social context in which they occur. The skills needed in colonial America reflected

the agrarian context; further, since early settlers were fleeing religious persecution

in Europe, there was a moral and religious imperative in learning to read so that

one could study the Bible. After the Revolutionary War, the newly independent

nation needed leaders and informed citizens to build the democratic society. In

this new world, civic education, which included learning about philosophy, science,

and politics, eclipsed religious education and became paramount in the education

of adults.

With the Industrial Revolution of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries,

industry-based skills training became a necessity. Also, because of the massive

influx of immigrants to the United States at this time, “Americanization” and

citizenship programs became a prominent form of adult education. It was felt that

these immigrants needed to learn the ways of their adopted country so that they

would “melt” into society. Interestingly, immigrants themselves organized their

own schools to maintain their culture, but these were largely invisible to society at

large.

Although a major thrust of adult education at any particular time reflects the

sociohistorical context, varied purposes and learning interests coexist. We might

argue that technology is a major thrust of learning today, but there is still job

training, literacy, civic education, liberal (such as Great Books clubs) and leisure

learning, along with community-based social-action initiatives. As Stubblefield and

Keane (1994, p. 312) observed from their survey of adult education from colonial

times until the present, regardless of the historical era, “Americans learned

because there was knowledge to master, technology to adapt, and life's

uncertainties to be resolved.”

Thus, to a large extent, the learning that goes on in adulthood can be understood

through an examination of the social context in which it occurs. How is learning in

adulthood shaped by the society in which it takes place? How does the

sociocultural context determine what is learned and by whom?

This chapter explores three conditions characteristic of the current sociocultural

context that are shaping the learning needs of adults in today's world: changing

demographics, the global economy, and information and technology. Although we

present each of these separately at first, these three factors are very much

interrelated, and thus their convergence and subsequent impact on learning in

adulthood are discussed in the final section of this chapter.

Changing Demographics

Changing demographics is a social reality shaping the provision of learning in

contemporary American society. Demographics is about people, groups of people,

and their respective characteristics. For the first time in our society, adults

outnumber youth, there are more older adults, the population is better educated

than ever before, and there is more cultural and ethnic diversity. For various

reasons, individuals and groups of people seek out learning experiences; for other

reasons, society targets learning activities for certain segments of the population.

Thus, certain learning activities are learner initiated and others are society

initiated in response to the changing demographics. The field is concerned with

the growth and development of adult learners, while at the same time, there are

emerging groups of learners with special needs.

To begin, there are simply more adults in our society than ever before, and the

population will continue to age. In comparison to colonial times when half the

population was under age 16, in 1990, fewer than one in four Americans were

under age 16 and half were age 33 or older. The median age of the American

population was 38 years in 2017 up from of 35.3 years in 2000 and this figure is

expected to increase to 43 by 2060 (U.S. Census Bureau, 2017b, 2018a, 2018b).

The so-called Baby Boomers, born between 1946 and 1964, are a contributing

factor to this change in the population. The Baby Boomers started turning 65 in

2011 and by 2056 those over age 65 will outnumber individuals under 18 (Ortman,

2012, U.S. Census Bureau, 2017b).

The shift from a youth-oriented to an adult-oriented society is solidified by the

increasing numbers of older adults in the population. In addition to an increase of

persons over age 65, the oldest old, those over 85 years old, are the fastestgrowing

segment of the older population. The number of people age 85 and older

is expected to grow from 5.8 million in 2010 to 19 million in 2050. This age group

is expected to comprise 2.3% of the population in 2030 and 4.3% in 2050 (Vincent

& Velkoff, 2010). In addition, the population over age 65 is expected to become

increasingly racially diverse and the life expectancy gap between men and women

is expected to narrow (Vincent & Velkoff, 2010).

Today's older adults are also increasingly better educated, in better health, and

many are economically better off than previous cohorts. Society is already

heeding their learning needs with policies like tuition waivers for higher and

continuing education programs and specially designed programs, such as the

popular Road Scholar program and learning-in-retirement institutes. There has

also been a subtle change in the philosophical rationale—at least among those

working in the fields of gerontology and educational gerontology—underlying the

provision of education for this group. Along with an economic rationale (the better

educated need fewer social services) and a social stability rationale (millions of

healthy retired people need something to do) is an awareness that older adults as

well as younger ones have an unending potential for development. The

stereotypical idea of retirement as a time for cognitive decline and withdrawal

seems to be slowly changing as an increasing number of individuals are reaching

retirement age and the media, although still promoting some stereotypes, is

showing older adults actively engaged in a wide variety of activities. Additionally,

retirement communities arrange learning opportunities for their residents

including lectures, travel, concerts, and discussion groups.

Thus, more adults and an increase in the number of older adults are two

demographic factors influencing the provision of learning activities in our society.

So, too, is the rising level of education characteristic of U.S. citizens. This is

dramatically illustrated by the fact that 90% of the U.S. population age 25 or older

has completed high school or higher levels of education, which compares with

24% in 1940 (Schmidt, 2018). Because previous education is the single best

predictor of participation in adult education, the rising educational level of the

adult population is a contextual factor of considerable import. For example, 66%

of U.S. adults 26–35 years old participated in adult education activities compared

to 49% of those 56–65 years old (Desjardins, 2015). In adults age 16–65 (excluding

individuals from 16 to 24 in formal studies), 31% with less than a high school

education participated in adult education activities whereas 79% of those with a

high school education or higher participated in adult education activities

(Desjardins, 2015).

Participation in adult education is also affected by literacy and economics. In the

United States, 27% of low-literate adults said they had participated in adult

education within the last year, while 84% of those with higher levels of literacy

participated (Desjardins, 2015). This pattern is seen in other countries as well. In

Korea, the respective figures are 13% for low-literates and 77% for those with

higher literacy rates, and Cyprus's figures are 24% and 51%, respectively

(Desjardins, 2015). Participation rates for U.S. adults ages 16–65 whose parents

had not graduated from high school was 39%, while individuals where at least one

parent completed high school was 72%.

Another demographic characteristic of the social context is the growing cultural

and ethnic diversity of America's population. Roughly 13.4% or 43.7 million people

residing in the United States are foreign born (Organization for Economic

Cooperation and Development [OECD], 2018). Twenty-six percent of those who

are foreign born and living in the United States are from Mexico (OECD, 2018).

Applications for asylum in the United States have risen especially from citizens

from Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador (OECD, 2018). Although immigration

rates are expected to slow somewhat in the short term due to U.S. governmental

policies enacted in the late 2010s, (OECD, 2018), starting in 2030, “net

international migration is projected to become the largest driver of population

growth” (Vespa, Armstrong, & Medina, 2018, p. 12). Immigration combined with

birthrate projections in the United States mean there will be an increase in the

Latinx, Asian, and African American populations with a decrease in Whites. In

2016, non-Hispanic Whites comprised 61.3% of the population and by 2060 they

will make up 44.3% of the population. In contrast, the Latinx population is

expected to increase almost 10% from 17.8% of the U.S. population in 2016 to

27.5% in 2060. The African American population is projected to increase almost

2% from 13.3% in 2016 to 15% of the population by 2060. The Asian population is

expected to grow from 5.7% to 9.1% of the population. The percentage of those of

two or more races is expected to expand from 2.6% of the population in 2016 to

6.2% in 2060 (U.S. Census Bureau, 2017c). By 2045, people of color will account for

51.3% of the population (Frey, 2018).

The socioeconomic and cultural diversity of today's immigrant population

presents special challenges. In 2016, 30% of the foreign-born population age 25 or

older possessed a bachelor's degree or higher and 29% lacked a high school

diploma or GED (Zong, Batalova, & Hallock, 2018). Fifty-two percent of the

immigrants in the United States over age 5 are English proficient (Radford, 2019).

Immigrants' income varies with education level, occupation, industry, and

geographic region, but immigrants tend to earn less than their native-born

counterparts although the gap is small for those with a bachelor's degree or

higher (U.S. Department of Labor, 2018). Hence, immigrants' income and

opportunities can vary depending on their education level and language

proficiency, with the less educated and less English proficient “concentrated in

trade and labour professions and confined mostly to general education

programmes” (Calvo & Sarkisian, 2015, p. 1044). Courses for immigrants include

English as a second language courses, adult basic education (ABE), and other

community-based courses in “nutrition, parenting, immigration issues and other

informal education opportunities” (Larrotta, 2017, p. 67). Typically, churches,

libraries, social service centers, and community centers are places where

immigrants engage in adult education (Larrotta, 2017).

In summary, the composition of society is an important factor in the provision of

learning opportunities for citizens of all ages. In the United States, there are more

adults than youth, the number of older adults is growing, the population as a

whole is better educated, and more diverse—racially, ethnically, and culturally—

than ever before.

Globalization

Globalization is an overarching concept encompassing changes taking place

worldwide. But globalization is not a new concept because it can be argued that

the world has always sought to connect through travel, trade, and cultural

exchange. (For a brief overview of the history and various definitions of

globalization see Gulmez, 2017) Since the 1980s, the term has more frequently

been used to reflect the increasing integration of economies around the world,

particularly through trade and the flow of finances. Globalization includes the flow

of “goods, services, people, knowledge, ideas, information and financial capital

across borders” (Desjardins, 2013, p. 184). An incredibly complex and

controversial phenomenon, we can only try to convey some of its essential

characteristics and some of the issues and speculate as to how it is shaping adult

learning in our context.

Neoliberal ideas of free trade, privatization, and “reduced capital controls on

cross-border flow of finance” fuel the images most associated with the economic

view of economic globalization (Desjardins, 2013, p. 183). These images include

the loss of low-wage manufacturing jobs to less developed corners of the world,

with transnational companies operating in a space outside national boundaries

and control, with consumerism and commercialism supplanting other interests.

Those opposed to the neoliberal agenda say that the costs of globalization include

the loss of human rights including poor working conditions, although proponents

indicate that globalization promotes economic growth (Richards & Gelleny, 2016).

Although the market economy is clearly a driving force in globalization, so too is

information technology. Technology has changed the way we work in that

individuals can work from anywhere in the world. Changes in information

technology have changed the teaching/learning transaction. Massive Open Online

Courses (MOOCs), synchronous and asynchronous distance courses,

communication tools such as Skype, Zoom, and Google Hangouts, and the

plethora of web-based resources including LinkedIn Learning, and YouTube have

affected the way individuals learn alone and in groups.

But globalization is not only about economics. Brysk (2003, p. 22) contends that it

is a combination of four elements:

Connection means greater traffic in bodies, goods, services, and information

across borders.

Cosmopolitanism describes the growth of multiple centers of power and

influence above, below, and across national governments: international

organizations, grassroots groups, and transnational bodies from Microsoft to

Greenpeace.

Communication is an increase in technological capacity that strengthens

transnational networks of all kinds (from multinational corporations to

nongovernmental organizations [NGOs] to terrorists) and diffuses ideas and

values more quickly and broadly.

Commodification is the expansion of world markets, and the extension of

market-like behavior across more states and social realms. Increases in global capital flows, privatization of formerly state-owned enterprises, and

increasing employment of children are all examples of commodification.

Brysk goes on to show how these elements of globalization are both a plus and a

minus for human rights issues:

Connection brings human rights monitors to Chiapas, but it also brings sex

tourists to Thailand. Cosmopolitanism creates a U.N. Human Rights

Commission and countless NGOs to condemn China's abuse of political

dissidents and religious minorities; yet commodification makes China the

United States's second-leading trade partner. (p. 22)

Part of the controversy surrounding globalization has to do with economics. Those

countries that can be competitive are already better off and become even richer

through globalization. Critics of neoliberal policies observe that more wealthy

countries hurt less developed countries because richer countries “extract more

money from developing countries than they invest, displace local capital, and add

to unemployment by promoting capital-intensive production rather than labourintensive

activities” (Richards & Gelleny, 2016, p. 219).

What does all this mean for adult learning? Walters (2014) asserts that

globalization “has been a driving factor in the commodification of learning” and

that learning has become individualized and more expensive, widening the gap

between the rich and the poor (p. 186). She argues that global economic changes

that build on capitalism drive down labor and production costs. This means that

skilled labor is underutilized and that people are being deskilled. An alternative

view is that the business world is increasingly responsible for education. Increased

worker responsibility for their learning and teamwork approaches are necessary

in this global economy. Adult education and human resource development (HRD)

have responded with broad-based workplace literacy programs and training and

development packages designed to address a wide range of economy-driven

needs (Finger, 2005b). Indeed, HRD and corollary concepts such as organizational

learning have become a parallel adult education system, one lodged in the

workplace where responsiveness to globalization is paramount.

The global economy is having an impact on learning in broader ways too.

Education is viewed as a service (Guilbault, 2018). Some argue that students are

consumers, and faculty and staff are customer service providers in this marketdrive

economy (Guilbault, 2018). As Koris and Nokelainen (2015) state, “Students

expect to be treated as customers in terms of student feedback, classroom

studies, and to some extent in terms of communication” (p. 128). Interestingly,

they did not see themselves as customers when it came to grade expectation or

curriculum (Koris & Nokelainen, 2015).

This shift to the marketplace as the primary site of adult learning has caused some

adult educators to discuss the effect of neoliberalism on adult education.

Neoliberalism is “a global system of political economy with interests in protecting

and expanding the hegemony of private markets,” which ultimately results in less

funding for social services and increased benefits to the wealthy (Abendroth,

2014, p. 18). Adult literacy programs grounded in Freirean concepts such as

problem posing have closed as the Workforce Investment Act (WIA) meant federal

funding for literacy was tied to workforce initiatives and “ABE [Adult Basic

Education] instructors … felt pressure to become technocrats who provide a linear

instruction for passing a high-stakes test” (p. 19).

Intertwined in globalization is a shift from a society employed in producing

durable goods to one employed in providing services. Given the United States's

aging population, it is not surprising that health care is one of the top five

industries driving the economy (Deutch, 2018). Healthcare sector jobs increased

20% since 2008 and they are expected to grow another 18% by 2026 (Deutch,

2018). The top job sector in the United States is retail (Deutch, 2018). Business and

professional services are also expected to continue to expand into the 2020s as

they have in recent decades (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2015). The brisk

growth of the service sector is paralleled by rapid growth in professional and

related occupations.

The important thing about these projections is that these two occupations are

at the opposite ends of the education and earnings distribution. That is,

professional occupations require extensive educational preparation and are

generally well-rewarded. Service jobs require lower educational credentials,

with corresponding lower job rewards. (Bills, 2004, p. 97)

Concurrent with the shift to a service economy is the shift to what has been called the information society—a shift that has had a major impact on workers as

economic units. Skills learned in preparation for a job or career cannot keep pace

with the demands of the world of work, the ability to learn becomes a valuable

skill in and of itself. This factor is underscored by the fact that a skill's half-life is 5

years—that is, a skill learned 5 years ago is half as valuable as it was when it was

learned (Kasriel, 2017); in high-tech areas software engineers may need to

upgrade their skills every 12 to 18 months (Gurchiek, 2017).

In this fast-paced tech world, trainers are wondering how to best serve workers.

“Micro-learning” or providing workers with short learning sessions when they need

the skill is one method that is being used (Gurchiek, 2017, para. 10). Other

suggestions for those in business settings include centralizing training, using text

messages to encourage workers to complete their training, and delivering training

in classrooms, on computers, and via cell phones (Gurchiek, 2017).

In the future, jobs will be increasingly automated, and more positions will be taken

by robots. There is concern that technology will usurp the jobs of those who drive

cars and trucks, workers in middle management, and even stock market analysts.

How will educators, trainers, and workers need to adapt? Findings from a Pew

Research study reveal that respondents believe that job education will be

accomplished in multiple ways on multiple platforms from in-person training to

self-directed learning, to engaging in virtual reality scenarios. Workers will be

encouraged to gain skills in things that are less likely to be replicated by artificial

intelligence. Such skills as creativity, collaboration, “complex communication” and

the “ability to thrive in diverse environments” will be stressed (Rainie & Anderson,

2017, para. 14). They predict that mentoring and apprenticeships will be

increasingly used in the workplace (Rainie & Anderson, 2017). Leadership and

conflict resolution skills will still be in demand (Rainie & Anderson, 2017). Although

college degrees will still be important, employers may accept other forms of

credentialing, such as digital badges, and competency may be measured in “real

world work portfolios” (para. 20). Some fear that training will not meet the needs

of those seeking employment in the near future because of a lack of funding, jobs

changing too quickly, and the challenge inherent in teaching soft skills (Rainie &

Anderson, 2017).

Developing simultaneously with the emphasis on learning to learn is the notion of

the learning organization (see Chapter 2). To survive in the global economy,

organizations must learn quickly (Serrat, 2017). The growing body of literature on

the learning organization positions learning, information processing, and

problem-solving skills as central to the survival of both the individual worker and

the organization. Kanten, Kanten, and Gurlek (2015) recognize the importance of

the learning organization in the age of globalization. They note, “Due to

globalization, rapid changes, and [a]diverse workforce, learning organizations

have become an important factor for organizations to gain competitive advantage.

Learning organizations are considered a key process which contributes to

organizational success” (p. 1359).

Closely related to shifts to a service and information economy are changes in

America's labor force. As previously mentioned, the service sector jobs are

expected to grow followed by jobs in the health and social assistance sector (U.S.

Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2017). Not surprisingly, women, minorities, and the

elderly are overrepresented in the lower paying service jobs. Since the mid- 1950s,

however, the labor force has changed from one dominated by blue-collar

occupations to one where most jobs are considered white collar. Changes in the

composition of the workforce are also occurring along racial and ethnic lines.

Although White non-Hispanic workers account for the majority of workers −78% in

2017—(U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2018), the percentage of White non-

Hispanics in the labor force has declined 2% since 2005 (U.S. Bureau of Labor

Statistics, 2005) while the percentage of people of color in the workforce has risen.

African Americans comprise 13% of the workforce compared to 11% in 2005,

whereas Hispanics made up 17% of the workforce in 2017 compared to 13% in

2005 (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2005, 2018). Asians account for 6% of the

labor force (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2018). Perhaps the greatest change of

all has been the participation of women in the workforce. “In 1950, there were

18.4 million women in the labor force, which accounted for about one-third of the

total labor force” (Toossi & Morisi, 2017, p. 3). By 2024, “women in the labor force

will increase to 77.2 million… for a 47.2% share” (p. 3). Economic necessity and the

freeing of occupations traditionally assigned to men have contributed to this

change.

In summary, economic factors are shaping the nature of our society, and by

extension, the nature of learning that adults are most likely to undertake. A global

economy, the shift to a service and information society, and consequent changes

in the configuration of the labor force are determining to a large extent where

learning takes place, what is offered, and who participates.

Technology

Technology has changed the way we live and learn. Technology-related vocabulary

is part of our daily conversations. Those of us who teach students at a distance

may need to log in to a learning management system (LMS) such as Blackboard,

Schoology, Canvas, or Brightspace. We access our LMS from our computer. There

is no more apt metaphor for reflecting the rate of technological change than the

computer. Sometimes the computer requires that we install software and then we

have to reboot our computer for it to take effect. We process students and

information; we plan learning activities with an eye to inputs, flow, and outputs;

we provide feedback to individual learners and to programs. Indeed, we program

learning experiences and ourselves. Technology has had an enormous impact on

society and adult learning. It has been instrumental in bringing about the

information society, which has created new jobs and eliminated others. And as we

have seen, globalization is technology driven.

The move to an information society has been a function of technological

developments associated with an information explosion. Within a short span of

time, electronic, communication, and information technologies have changed

society and affected how people go about their daily lives. From texting a

colleague via cell phone, to ordering a ride to the airport via a smartphone app, to

our car's sensors alerting us to vehicles in our blind spot, everyday life has been

irrevocably influenced by technology.

Concurrent with these technological advances has been an information explosion.

There are “2.5 quintillion bytes of data created each day” and “90 percent of the

data in the world was generated in the last 2 years” (Marr, 2018, para. 1). Data

center storage capacity was about 1,450 exabytes worldwide with researchers

predicting that storage capacity will be 2,300 exabytes by 2021 (Taylor, C. 2018).

One exabyte is one million gigabytes. In this information-rich society, there is an

increasing need for continuing education and for learning how to ask good

questions and assess the veracity of the information.

Technology has changed where data is stored. At one time, information was

stored on punch cards that programmed everything from player pianos to textile

looms (Foote, 2017). By the late 1800s, data was stored on phonograph records

and on film (History of Online Storage, 2017). Storing computer data on magnetic

tape occurred in the 1950s (History of Online Storage, 2017). In the last 30 years

we have seen floppy disks give way to 3.5-in. disks, to CD-ROMs, to jump or flash

drives and cloud storage, which allows individuals to store data remotely and

access it through the Internet.

A major societal shift, such as moving from an industrial to an information society,

results in profound changes in the society's structure. In an industrial society,

machine technology extended physical ability; in an information society, computer

technology extends mental ability. Material wealth has great value in an industrial

society; knowledge and information are key assets in an information society. The

social structure changes from hierarchies and bureaucracies to multicentered and

horizontal networks. These changes in society's underlying structure can be seen

most dramatically in changes in the workforce. As noted earlier, the shift is

eliminating certain classifications of work while creating others not previously

dreamed of. For example, with the rise of Internet travel sites, fewer travel agents

are needed (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2019b). However, software developers

are predicted to be in increasing demand (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2019a).

In addition to the creation and elimination of jobs, technological changes are

affecting workers in other ways, such as where work is done. We check our e-mails

and take calls on our commutes prior to arriving at the office, use

videoconferencing instead of traveling, and virtual assistants are increasingly part

of our workday to help us remember appointments, take notes, or launch video

meetings (Barker, 2018). Working remotely or working from home has become

increasingly popular. Approximately 3.9 million Americans report working from

home at least half of the week, which is a 115% increase since 2005 (Guta, 2019).

The average telecommuter is 46 years old, almost equally likely to be a man as a

woman, and has at least a bachelor's degree (Guta, 2019).

Yet others have cautioned against the unquestioning adoption of technology in

the workplace, for information technologies have created something of a paradox.

Designed to get work done more efficiently by fewer employees, information

technologies have instead offered more ways to communicate, increased the

demand for information, and raised the level of expectations regarding the print

and graphic presentation of material. Think of the volume of mail one now

handles through e-mail; this technology seems to have increased our workload

and expectations of timely responses.

Technology's pros and cons are also evident in life beyond work. Respondents to a

Pew Research survey noted that advantages of the living in the information age

include having knowledge at your fingertips to live a better life in addition to

having access to an array of services at the click of a mouse (Anderson & Rainie,

2018). Those who see the digital world as potentially dangerous to our well-being

cite information overload as resulting in stress, anxiety, and depression. They

state this information overload can negatively affect individuals' analytical thinking

and memory (Anderson & Rainie, 2018).

Clearly, technology and the information age that it spawned are changing the

nature of adult learning. Professionals' knowledge becomes outdated in a few

years. Older adults must learn new ways to communicate with their grandchildren

whether it be via FaceTime, texting, or through a virtual assistant such as Alexa.

We must be able to function in a fast-changing society, and this necessitates

continued learning. Technology is not only making learning mandatory, it is

providing many of the mechanisms for it to occur. Learners can teleconference,

attain information through an intelligent tutoring system that presents materials

based on learner responses, or receive training through virtual worlds that ask

learners to participate in a scenario via computer (Quinn, 2015). For example,

those in counseling courses may pick an avatar and take the role of a counselor or

client in a computer-simulated counseling session.

Simultaneous with the development of technologically sophisticated delivery

systems is the development of new roles for educators and trainers. Although the

“digital divide” has referred to those who can and cannot access technology, it can

also refer to those who cannot use technologies effectively (Wei & Hindman,

2011). With smartphone use growing, more individuals can access the Internet,

but possessing digital literacy skills such as knowing how to effectively search for

and evaluate information or send effective e-mails, texts, and video images is also

necessary in the twenty-first century (Rosen & Vanek, 2017).

A Pew Research team surveyed 2,752 Americans age 18 or older in all 50 states

and the District of Columbia to uncover their “digital readiness” for personal

learning (Horrigan, 2016, p. 7). Digital readiness included individuals' self-reported

skills at using technology, including their familiarity with technology terms such as

MOOCs, distance learning, or digital badges. Researchers assessed learners' trust

of technology with survey questions such as: “I find it difficult to know whether

information I find online is trustworthy” (p. 9). Respondents needed to indicate

whether these statements described them “very well,” “somewhat well,” “not too

well,” or “not at all well” (p. 9). A last indicator of readiness was how much

respondents used technology. There were five groups along the spectrum of

digital readiness. “The Unprepared” comprised 14% of respondents and were

more likely to be women age 50 and older who came from lower income

households and possessed lower levels of education. They do not adopt

technology very readily, and “need help setting up tech devices and are not

familiar with ‘ed tech’ terms” (p. 3). They were not confident about their computers

skills or their ability to judge online information as trustworthy. Five percent of

respondents were classified as “traditional learners” (p. 3). They were more likely

to be women, minorities, and have lower levels of education and income. They are

active learners, but they don't use the Internet to pursue learning and have

concerns about their ability to judge online information. “The Reluctant” made up

33% of respondents and were more likely to be men age 50 and older who had

lower incomes and education. “The Reluctant” had higher digital skills than those

who were “Unprepared,” but they did not know new educational technology terms

and did not use the Internet for learning. Group four, the “Cautious Clickers,”

owned more technology and had higher levels of confidence in their ability to

separate truth from fiction on the Internet (p. 3). They were not as familiar with

online learning and technology terms as the “Digitally Ready.” They came from

higher income households and typically had some college experience and were in

their 30s and 40s. The “Digitally Ready,” 17%, loved to learn for personal

enrichment and were very confident about their online skills and knew the most

about online learning resources (Horrigan, 2016).

Part of becoming “Digitally Ready” is the ability to evaluate information online, and

critical thinking skills are necessary. Critical thinking “involves people using a

systematic approach to evaluate information, develop viable solutions, and test

them as they seek to solve many different types of structured and ill-structured

problems” (King, 2017, p. 115). The elements of critical thinking include

“generating purposes, raising questions, using information, using concepts,

making inferences, making assumptions, generating implications and embodying

a point of view” (King, 2017, p. 115). To evaluate information, we need to examine

its “clarity, accuracy, precision, relevance, depth, breadth, logic, and fairness”

(Elder & Paul, 2010, as cited in King, 2017, p. 115).

Technology is here to stay and teachers may need to learn new ways of interacting

with students in an online or hybrid learning environment. Consulting with an

instructional design specialist or attending professional development workshops

on effectively integrating distance learning tools may be necessary for some

instructors while others may pick these skills up on their own. Some higher

education institutions offer distance education certificates for faculty. Course

topics may include how to design an online course, best practices in facilitating an

online course, exploring online learning communities, learning assessment tools,

and copyright issues (Online Learning Consortium, 2018).

In other areas, such as adult basic skills education, ABE educators face challenges

in using technology. These challenges are more evident in ABE than other areas of

education due to persistent underfunding (Rosen & Vanek, 2017). Educators need

“professional development, coaching, and technical assistance” to integrate

technology into their classrooms and they need to know how to “evaluate

hardware and software” that can be used in the classroom (p. 56). Although both

the Arizona Department of Education's Adult Education Services and the Adult

Education and Literacy Department of the Texas Workforce Commission provide a

wide range of professional development programs, including webinars and selfpaced

learning for ABE instructors, these types of opportunities are needed

nationwide (Rosen & Vanek, 2017). Unfortunately, federal funding has not

increased for ABE, and most state funding has not increased either, so the

integration of technology into ABE is a challenge (Rosen & Vanek, 2017).

In summary, technology has its benefits and drawbacks. Learners can access

information easily and informal learning can occur via web searches, webinars,

and YouTube tutorials. Individuals' digital readiness affects how individuals can

access and use the plethora of available information. Digital literacy includes

learning critical thinking skills. In addition, educators must have appropriate

professional development opportunities to understand how to evaluate hardware

and software and integrate it into their teaching. Although training is available for

some, other areas of adult education, such as ABE, may struggle due to funding

shortages.

The Convergence of Demographics, Globalization, and

Technology

Demographics, globalization, and technology are closely intertwined. Advances in

technology, for example, are interrelated with changes in the economic sector.

Automation and robotics displace production workers but create other jobs.

Technology creates an alternative work sector. The need to be competitive in the

world market leads to further technological sophistication. Demographics and

economics are related. Economic growth is tied to productivity and the number of

individuals in the workforce. The Baby Boom generation is beginning to retire and

globally there are fewer working-age individuals and more retirees. This decrease

in labor force participation has been offset somewhat with advances in technology

(Hayes, 2018). We can now complete our taxes with software, we obtain money

from ATMs instead of bank tellers, and in the future perhaps driverless cars will

eliminate the need for chauffeurs (Hayes, 2018).

Embedded in this convergence of demographics, economics, and technology is a

value system based on the political and economic structure of capitalism. More

than three decades ago, Beder (1987, p. 107) explained how these three forces are

linked in the value system: The beliefs undergirding the capitalist system emphasize material values. The

health of the system is gauged in terms of national wealth as embodied in the

gross national product, and social equality is assessed in terms of economic

opportunity—the potential of members of the underclasses to amass more

income. Hence, the political and social systems become directed toward …

economic productivity, and economic productivity under the rationale of

human capital theory becomes the predominant rationale for all publicly

funded social interventions including adult education.

This value system directly shapes adult education in the United States in several

ways. First, economic productivity becomes “the dominant rationale for all public

subsidy of adult education” (p. 109). Second, social justice becomes equated with

economic opportunity in that “the just society is a society that provides

opportunity for members of the underclasses to amass more income and material

goods” and adult education “helps learners acquire the skills and knowledge” to

do so (p. 109). The emphasis is on productivity and efficiency, both of which

benefit from advances in technology. Thus technology, in the service of economic

productivity, converges with changing demographics in shaping the adult learning

enterprise.

Nowhere is this more visible than in higher education. Before globalization and

the market economy, higher education was a local enterprise serving a

predominantly local or national constituency. Academic foci shaped the nature of

the student body and concerns of the institution. With the shift to a consumer

approach to higher education, the institution worries about its “brand” appeal, its

profitability, its “share” of the market. Globalization is reshaping higher education

in several ways. Students are studying abroad with more coming to the United

States and Europe than in previous generations (Stromquist & Monkman, 2014).

Technology has helped people communicate across the world using multiple

media (Stromquist & Monkman, 2014). This has also meant that the Western

values have circulated to other countries (Mason, 2003).

As already pointed out, some writers would like to see the values and purposes of

adult education reexamined in the wake of the wide-scale social and economic

changes taking place. In a postmodern world characterized by large-scale changes

in global activity resulting in economic, social, and political uncertainty, adult

education tends to be an entrepreneurial instrument of the so-called new world

order. Adult education is particularly sensitive to a restructured workplace,

reliance on technology to produce knowledge, and a market demand for

multiskilled workers. Humans are resources for the winners of globalization—

transnational corporations (Stromquist & Monkman, 2014). As well, knowledge

has become an important business commodity that is readily marketed, due, in

part, to the explosion of the Internet and other information technologies.

Although knowledge and learning serve the needs of transnational corporations,

there is also evidence that technology and globalization have made women's

struggles across the globe more evident and technology has helped movements

like Occupy Wall Street come to fruition (Stromquist & Monkman, 2014). Others

note the impact of neoliberalism on adult education as educators help individuals

cope with the overwhelming economic and other challenges that threaten their

identities and survival (Bowl, 2017).

Globalization has affected the supply of low-skilled workers globally and in the

United States (Hickman & Olney, 2011). Although scholars worry that low-level

workers are being left behind in this global economy (Schied, Mulenga, & Baptiste,

2005), there is some evidence that U.S. workers are trying to obtain the skills

needed for continued employment (Hickman & Olney, 2011). The researchers

examined how immigration and offshoring levels affect enrollment in post-high

school education (Hickman & Olney, 2011). Results showed that “offshoring and

immigration increase enrollment at community colleges but not other types of

institutions, particularly among older, non-traditional age students” (p. 654).

Community colleges are appealing to lower skilled workers because they offer

short-term affordable programs, and some community colleges offer technical

programs that lower skilled workers find appealing (Hickman & Olney, 2011). The

authors recommend increased governmental support for community colleges

(Hickman & Olney, 2011).

If the postmodern world is characterized by fragmentation and diversity, it is also

defined by new alliances and interactions. Demographics, the global economy,

and technology have come together in adult education in the blurring of the field's

content and delivery mechanisms. For example, adult education has been

variously divided into formal, nonformal, and informal learning activities (see

Chapter 3). Formal learning takes place in educational institutions and often leads

to degrees or some sort of credit. Nonformal learning refers to organized activities outside educational institutions, such as those found in community organizations,

cultural institutions such as museums and libraries, and voluntary associations.

Informal learning refers to the experiences of everyday living from which we learn

something. Today, many formal providers offer learning experiences that are

noncredit, leisure oriented, and short term. Similarly, nonformal learning and

informal life experiences can be turned into formal, credit-earning activities.

Another blurring can be noted in higher education. Once composed of learners 18

to 22 years old, the student body has grayed along with the population. Roughly

38% of those enrolled in college are age 25 or older (National Center for Education

Statistics, 2018). Similar subjects may be taught at the local community college for

credit and at the public adult school for noncredit. The part-time adult student

taking a course during the day at a college is an adult learner as much as the 16-

year-old studying for a high school diploma in a local evening class. There is also a

blurring between higher education and business and industry. Many

postsecondary institutions have business institutes that provide training and

development services to business. Conversely, a growing number of private

companies, such as McDonald's Hamburger University (Tomar, 2019) and the

Pardee RAND Graduate School, are offering accredited degrees (Pardee RAND

Graduate School, 2018).

Finally, a blurring of content and delivery is found in such popular slogans as

“workplace literacy,” “learning to learn,” “critical thinking,” and “media literacy.”

Educators, employers, and society at large are focusing attention on developing

the skills needed to be productive and informed members of a fast-changing and

highly technical society. With the erosion of boundaries in the content and

provision of adult learning, we may be witnessing the emergence of what has

been called the learning society. Taking human beings rather than educational

institutions as its beginning point, the learning society is a response to the social

context.

Summary

Adult learning does not occur in a vacuum. What one needs or wants to learn, what opportunities are available, the way one learns—all are to a large extent determined by the society in which one lives. This chapter has discussed several characteristics of American society today that are shaping the nature of learning in adulthood.

Demographics, globalization, and technology are three forces affecting all of society's endeavors, including adult learning. Regarding the American population, adults outnumber youth, there are more older adults, adults are better educated compared to previous generations, and there is more cultural and ethnic diversity among the population than ever before.

Globalization is linking the world through economics, knowledge, information, culture, and services. Transnational companies benefit the most from globalization but at what expense to workers? As a result of globalization, critics note learning has become increasingly individualized with greater gaps between the rich and the poor (Walters, 2014), whereas others say that lower skilled U.S. workers are finding more opportunities for pursuing additional skills at community colleges as a result of globalization and immigration (Hickman & Olney, 2011).

Technology is integral to the global economy and has contributed to, if not caused, the shift to an information society, creating dramatic changes in the workforce. Although we have treated them separately, these three forces are interactive and firmly embedded in the American capitalist value system. Adult education both reflects and responds to the forces prevalent in the sociocultural context. Among the implications discussed in the chapter are the field's responsiveness to special groups of people, the economic productivity rationale behind much of adult education, the need for the development of critical thinking skills in order to assess the endless flow of information, and the need for educators, indeed, all adults, to constantly learn in a tech-driven society.

Chapter 5 Knowles's Andragogy and McClusky's Theory of Margin (pp. 117 -129)

Do adults learn differently than children do? What distinguishes adult learning and adult education from other areas of education? What particular characteristics about the learning transaction with adults can be identified to maximize their learning? Prior to the 1970s, adult educators relied primarily on psychological understandings of learning in general to inform their practice. With the publication of Houle's The Design of Education (1972), Kidd's How Adults Learn (1973), and Knowles's The Adult Learner: A Neglected Species (1973) and The Modern Practice of Adult Education (1970), attention turned to research and theory-building efforts in adult learning. Attempts at codifying differences between adults and children as a set of principles, a model, or even a theory of adult learning have been, and continue to be, pursued by adult educators. However, just as there is no single theory that explains all human learning, there is no single theory of adult learning. Instead, we have several frameworks, or models, each of which contributes something to our understanding of adults as learners. One of the best known of these efforts is andragogy, a concept Knowles introduced from Europe in a 1968 article. Andragogy was the first model of learning introduced in North America to focus on the adult learner and his or her life situation.

This chapter is thus devoted primarily to presenting Knowles's concept of andragogy. As with any model, theory, or conceptualization of the learning process, andragogy has its critics as well as a growing research base. We also review one other model of the adult learning transaction, which, like andragogy, emerged in the 1970s and emphasizes how learning and an adult's life situation intersect—McClusky's theory of margin.

Andragogy

Over 50 years ago Malcolm Knowles (1968, p. 351) proposed “a new label and a new technology” of adult learning to distinguish it from preadult schooling. The European concept of andragogy, meaning “the art and science of helping adults learn,” was contrasted with pedagogy, the art and science of helping children learn (Knowles, 1980, p. 43). Knowles is clear that he did not invent the term “andragogy”; rather he learned about its usage from a Yugoslavian educator, Dusan Savicevic (Knowles, 1989). In fact “the term was used as early as 1833 by a German educator, Alexander Kapp” (Peterson & Ray, 2013, p. 82). Lindeman also used the term in 1926 in his classic book, The Meaning of Adult Education, wherein he advocated building curriculum “around the student's needs and interests. Every adult person finds himself in specific situations with respect to his work, his recreation, his family life, his community life, etc. Adult education begins at this point” (p. 8). Andragogy is a common term in use today in Central and Eastern European countries where it is loosely equivalent to the North American use of “adult education” indicating a professional field of practice (Savicevic, 2008).

Andragogy is based on a number of assumptions about the adult learner. Knowles originally advanced the following four assumptions:

As a person matures, his or her self-concept moves from that of a dependent personality toward one of a self-directing human being.

An adult accumulates a growing reservoir of experience, which is a rich resource for learning.

The readiness of an adult to learn is closely related to the developmental tasks of his or her social role.

There is a change in time perspective as people mature—from future application of knowledge to immediacy of application. Thus, an adult is more problem centered than subject centered in learning. (Knowles, 1980, pp. 44–45)In later publications, Knowles also referred to a fifth and a sixth assumption:

The most potent motivations are internal rather than external (Knowles et al., 1984, p. 12)

Adults need to know why they need to learn something (Knowles, 1984). (For a review of which of Knowles's writings contain which assumptions, see Holton, Swanson, & Naquin, 2001.)

Knowles clearly saw these assumptions as foundational to designing programs for adults. From each of these assumptions, Knowles drew numerous implications for the design, implementation, and evaluation of learning activities with adults. For example, with regard to the first assumption that as adults mature they become more independent and self-directing, Knowles suggested that the classroom climate should be one of “adultness,” both physically and psychologically. The climate should cause “adults to feel accepted, respected, and supported”; further, there should exist “a spirit of mutuality between teachers and students as joint inquirers” (1980, p. 47). Being self-directing also means that adult students can participate in the diagnosis of their learning needs, the planning and implementation of the learning experiences, and the evaluation of those experiences. A summary of the application of andragogy for designing learning opportunities for adults can be seen in Table 5.1.

This theory, “model of assumptions” (Knowles, 1980, p. 43), or “system of concepts” (Knowles, 1984, p. 8), as Knowles has also called it, has given adult educators “a badge of identity” that distinguishes the field from other areas of education, especially childhood schooling (Brookfield, 1986, p. 90). Andragogy became a rallying point for those trying to define the field of adult education as separate from other areas of education. However, it also stimulated controversy, philosophical debate, and critical analysis matched only, perhaps, by the discussions and debates on transformational learning (see Chapter 7).

Table 5.1 Andragogy

SOURCE: Adapted from Knowles (1980).

Andragogical assumptions

Implications for practice

Self-concept of learner

Self-directing, autonomous, responsible for their learning

Adult-friendly learning climate (physical and psychological). Providing of planning, self-diagnostic, and self-evaluation experiences.

Prior experience of the learner

Accumulated experiences as main resource of learning

Emphasis on experiential techniques and practical application. Unfreezing and learning to learn from experience.

Readiness to learn

Life related, Developmental tasks

Providing proper timing of learning and grouping of learners.

Orientation to learning

Problem centered, contextual

Course title considering matter of grammar and style in the context of the practical concerns of the learners.

Motivation to learn

Intrinsic value

The instructor should recognize the adult learner’s reasons for coming to the learning event: ask what brought them to the learning event.

Learner's need to know

Need to know why they need to learn something

The instructor should provide a rationale for the course objectives and activities.

Is Andragogy a Theory of Adult Learning?

At first the main point of contention was whether andragogy could be considered a “theory” of adult learning (Elias, 1979). Davenport and Davenport (1985, p. 157) chronicled the debate, noting that andragogy has been classified “as a theory of adult education, theory of adult learning, theory of technology of adult learning, method of adult education, technique of adult education, and a set of assumptions.” They were a bit more optimistic than other critics for andragogy's chances of possessing “the explanatory and predictive functions generally associated with a fully developed theory” (p. 158). They suggested that the issue could perhaps be resolved through empirical studies that tested the underlying assumptions.

Hartree (1984) observed that it was not clear whether Knowles had presented a theory of learning or a theory of teaching, whether adult learning was different from child learning, and whether there was a theory at all—perhaps these were just principles of good practice. The assumptions, she noted, “can be read as descriptions of the adult learner… or as prescriptive statements about what the adult learner should be like” (p. 205). Because the assumptions are “unclear and shaky” on several counts, Hartree concluded that, although the assumptions describe good practice by those in the field, conceptually Knowles has not presented a good case for the validity of such practice. … Although he appears to approach his model of teaching from the point of view of a theory of adult learning, he does not establish a unified theory of learning in a systematic way (pp. 206–207).

Brookfield (1986, p. 98), who also raised the question of whether andragogy is a “proven theory,” assessed to what extent a “set of well-grounded principles of good practice” could be derived from andragogy. He argued that three of the assumptions are problematic when drawing inferences for practice. The first assumption about self-direction is more a desired outcome than a given condition. The third and fourth assumptions relating learning to particular social roles and focusing on immediate application can lead to a narrow, reductionist view of learning. These two assumptions “could lead practitioners to equate the sum total of adult learning with instrumental learning; that is, learning how to perform at an improved level of competence in some predefined skill domain,” ignoring the complexity of learning (p. 99). Brookfield finds only the experience assumption to be well grounded. However, we believe that even this assumption can be questioned. The fact that adults have lived longer than children and thus have a quantity of experience greater than children does not necessarily translate into a good-quality experience that can become a resource for learning; indeed, certain life experiences can function as barriers to learning (Merriam, Mott, & Lee, 1996). Further, children in certain situations may have a range of experiences qualitatively richer than some adults (Hanson, 1996).

As for the fifth assumption on motivation, although adults may be more internally than externally motivated to learn, in much of workplace learning and continuing professional education, not to mention governmental or socially mandated learning (as in the case of driving school, job preparation, welfare programs, and prison education, for example), participation is required. The sixth assumption, which appears in only a couple of Knowles's publications, that adults need to know why they need to learn something, may be true much of the time, but some studies also suggest that adults may learn for the sheer enjoyment of learning (see Chapter 3 on participation and Chapter 6 on self-directed learning of this volume).

On the issue of whether andragogy can be considered a theory of adult learning, perhaps Knowles himself put the issue to rest. In his autobiographical work, The Making of an Adult Educator (1989, p. 112), he wrote that he “prefers to think of [andragogy] as a model of assumptions about learning or a conceptual framework that serves as a basis for an emergent theory.”

Is Andragogy Adult Specific?

A second point of criticism was Knowles's original inference that andragogy, with all its technological implications for instruction, characterized adult learning, whereas pedagogy, with another set of implications, characterized childhood learning. Close scrutiny of the assumptions and their implications for practice by educators in and out of adult education led Knowles to back off his original stance that andragogy characterized only adult learning. The clearest indication of this rethinking was the change in the subtitles of the 1970 and 1980 editions of The Modern Practice of Adult Education. The 1970 subtitle is Andragogy Versus Pedagogy, whereas the 1980 subtitle is From Pedagogy to Andragogy. Knowles's later position, as reflected in the 1980 subtitle, is that pedagogy-andragogy represents a continuum ranging from teacher-directed to student-directed learning and that both approaches are appropriate with children and adults, depending on the situation. For example, an adult who knows little or nothing about a topic will be more dependent on the teacher for direction; at the other extreme, children who are naturally curious and who are “very self-directing in their learning outside of school … could also be more self-directed in school” (Knowles, 1984, p. 13).

Most recently Ross-Gordon, Rose, and Kasworm (2017) examined each of the six assumptions of andragogy asking to what extent each assumption specifically characterizes adult learners. They find that each assumption holds true in some situations but can be challenged in other situations. For example, the first assumption that an adult is mature and desires to be self-directed in learning is a very Western perspective and that “there are specific situations in which adults, with highly developed adult self-concepts, desire a teacher-directed or group-directed process of learning rather than being an independent learner” (p. 220). They go on to point out that “adult development theories, as well as specific sociocultural contexts, suggest adults are exceedingly complex in their perspectives regarding desired learning involvements and may value teacher- or peer-directed learning experiences, as well as self-directed learning options” (p. 220).

However, although andragogy appears to be situation specific and not necessarily unique to adults, andragogy does seem to capture characteristics of many, if not most adult learners. These characteristics provide a basis for designing instruction that actively engages adults in their own learning.

Issues Related to Andragogy and the Social Context

Following discussions as to whether andragogy was a theory of adult learning, new critiques of andragogy pointed out that in its slavish focus on the individual learner, the sociohistorical context in which learning takes place is virtually ignored (Grace, 1996; Pearson & Podeschi, 1997; Pratt, 1993). Knowles's reliance on humanistic psychology results in a picture of the individual learner as one who is autonomous, free, and growth oriented. There is little or no awareness that the person is socially situated, and to some extent, the product of the sociohistorical and cultural context of the times; nor is there any awareness that social institutions and structures may be defining the learning transaction irrespective of the individual participant.

Grace (1996) points out how Knowles himself and his theory of andragogy were logical products of the 1960s, a period of rapid change; action-oriented curricula that valued individual experience were advocated. The individual had to keep up and self-improvement was in vogue. The andragogical model in the face of pedagogy was welcomed by many adult educators as revolutionary. (p. 383)

But although its influence on adult learning has been substantial ever since it was originally proposed, “Knowles never proceeded to an in-depth consideration of the organizational and social impediments to adult learning; he never painted the ‘big picture.’ He chose the mechanistic over the meaningful” (Grace, 1996, p. 386).

Lack of attention to the context in which learning takes place is a critique emanating from a sociological perspective (Jarvis, 1987) and from critical perspectives. Sandlin (2005) applied critical, feminist, and Africentric theoretical orientations to andragogy and identified five issues that cut across the three different perspectives. First, andragogy is criticized for assuming education is value neutral and apolitical. Second, andragogy assumes adult learners all look and learn the same—and this universal image is of a White middle-class individual learner. Third, other ways of learning are ignored, thereby silencing other voices. Fourth, the relationship between self and society is ignored, and—“consequently, andragogy does not take into account structural systems of privilege and oppression, based on race, gender, and class, that influence learning and does not consider how culture impacts a person's development and ways of learning” (Sandlin, 2005, p. 28). The fifth issue to cut across critical, feminist, and Africentric perspectives is that andragogy thus reproduces society's inequalities and supports the status quo.

While Sandlin summarized the critical perspectives on andragogy, Lee (2003) and Alfred (2000) examined andragogy from specific cultural lenses. Lee considers andragogy's application to foreign-born learners. In citing several studies with different immigrant groups ranging from Hmong refugees to Caribbean immigrant women, Lee concludes:

These studies … illustrated that andragogical assumptions do not characterize the experiences of some adult immigrants. Moreover, … by overgeneralizing the characteristics of a particular group of learners as those of all adult learners, Knowles effectively silenced and marginalized various social groups, including the adult immigrant learners whose values, experiences, and realities do not likely resemble the discourse of the dominant population (p. 15).

Using four tenets from an Africentric feminist perspective, Alfred (2000) assessed how applicable andragogy is to African American learners. First, personal experience is necessary to establish meaning and credibility. Although andragogy certainly acknowledges personal experience, it does not acknowledge “the facilitator's experience as a valuable part of the pedagogical process” (p. 20). Further, “African American experience is centered in a culture of race, class, and gender oppression, which is often managed through wisdom or intuitive knowledge,” whereas andragogy values objective ways of knowing (p. 20). Second, from an Africentric perspective, “for knowledge to be validated, it must be made public, and that is done in relationships with individuals or within a community,” whereas andragogy stresses individual learning (p. 21). Third, an ethic of care characterizes this perspective; whereas care and a trusting environment are emphasized in andragogy, the political dimensions of this environment are not considered. Finally, the Africentric tradition evaluates “not only the knowledge that is articulated, but also the person who is making the claim” (p. 21). Andragogy does not consider the credibility of the learner and his or her claims of knowledge.

In reference to the workplace in particular, Kessels and Poell (2004) argued that andragogy in conjunction with social capital theory can transform the workplace into a conducive learning environment. Social capital theory stresses social networks, mutual trust, communities of practice, and relational forms of capital. Andragogy and social capital theory together offer human resource development (HRD) “assumptions on the facilitation of learning in the workplace, the strong motivational aspects of self-directedness and autonomy in competence development, and the network of meaningful relationships that helps learning integrate in the social contexts of the day-to-day work environment” (p. 154). Finally, St. Clair (2002, p. 4) stated that adult education and HRD are moving closer together:

Although adult education programs have become more instrumental and employment focused, training and development in the business world have increasingly emphasized the holistic development of workers…. This convergence is further underlined by the way HRD practitioners have worked to address the shortcomings of the andragogical model by remodeling it to recognize contextual factors more fully. (Holton & Swanson, 1999).

Research on Andragogy

Considering that andragogy has been the primary model of adult learning for over 50 years, research to test the validity of its assumptions or its usefulness in predicting adult learning behavior has not been as robust as one would expect. A few early studies focused on the relationship between andragogical assumptions and instruction. Beder and Darkenwald (1982) asked teachers who taught both adults and preadults if their teaching behavior differed according to the age of the students. Teachers reported viewing adult students differently and using more andragogical techniques. Gorham (1985), however, actually observed teachers who taught both adults and preadults. She found no differences in how a particular teacher instructed adults or preadults, although teachers claimed that they did treat the two age groups differently.

With regard to involving learners in planning their own learning, Rosenblum and Darkenwald (1983) compared achievement and satisfaction measures between groups who had planned their course and those who had it planned for them. No differences were found in either achievement or satisfaction. Courtenay, Arnold, and Kim (1994) reviewed all previous literature and research and conducted their own quasi-experimental study of learner involvement in planning. They found previous research results to be inconclusive (indeed, “capricious”); from their own study, which attempted to address some of the shortcomings of previous studies, they discovered that

participation in planning does not appear to affect learning gain or satisfaction, even when the amount of participant input in planning is increased; the relationship between classroom environment and achievement or satisfaction is inconsequential; and classroom environment … may simply be a function of the satisfaction of the learner (p. 297).

They recommended that more thought be given to both the independent variable (that is, just what constitutes learner participation in planning) and the dependent variables (for example, perhaps unintended learning is as important as achievement).

Rachal (2002) reviewed 18 studies on andragogy conducted between 1984 and 2001, all of which attempted to assess the efficacy of an andragogical versus pedagogical instructional design. Based on measures of achievement, attendance, and/or satisfaction, studies revealed mixed results due to the varied “customizations” of the studies. For example, some studies did not segment adult undergraduates from traditional-age students, several studies had predetermined objectives, some used paper-pencil tests of content acquisition, two studies involved mandated participation, and so on. To bring more rigor and comparability to empirical studies of andragogy, Rachal proposed seven standards or criteria for designing future studies. Briefly, these seven are that participation should be voluntary, participants should be clearly adults (and not students of traditional college age), objectives should be collaboratively determined, assessment should be performance-based, or where achievement is not the primary objective, satisfaction with the learning experience should be measured, an adult learning environment should be in place, and research methodological issues should be attended to (like random assignment to treatment groups where possible).

The studies reviewed by Rachael (2002) were mostly dissertations and all were experimental or quasi-experimental in design. Although certainly this is one approach to assessing the validity of andragogy, it reinforces the psychologically driven, individually focused aspect of andragogy. Social context was not considered, for example, nor were any qualitative designs included.

Perhaps the nature of andragogy, with its assumptions for adult learner–focused practice, makes it particularly difficult to validate directly. As Rachal (2002, p. 224) himself comments, “It may well be that researchers examining the effectiveness of andragogy will perpetually be stymied by its fluidity, even its amoeba-like formlessness. In that view, its art will forever be paramount, and its science forever elusive.” Taylor and Laros (2014) found that andragogy and transformative learning were similar in that in terms of research, each was hampered by “the lack of a consistent operational definition” (p. 138), uncertainty as to what exactly “constitutes the goal and practice” of both andragogy and transformative learning (p. 138), how learner-centered control is operationalized especially in higher-education settings, and lack of robust research designs. They conclude that research in either area (andragogy or transformative learning) needs to move “beyond navel gazing, to an ever-evolving practice of teaching adults” (p. 144).

Although assessing the validity of andragogy directly may prove difficult to do, one could consider the extent to which a broader range of research in adult learning may or may not support the assumptions underlying andragogy. For example, the research on self-directed learning that finds upwards of 90% of adults are engaged in self-directed learning projects and that 70% of projects are planned by the learner (see Chapter 6) would tend to support the assumption that adults are self-directed and can plan their own learning. Further, studies on participation (see Chapter 3) indicate that participation is clearly linked to adult roles of worker, family member, and so on, lending support to the assumption that the readiness of an adult to learn is closely linked to the developmental tasks of his or her social roles. That the developmental issues of adulthood lead to learning was also underscored in Aslanian and Brickell's (1980) findings that 83% of adult learners were engaged in learning activities because of some transition in their lives. Nevertheless, the growing prevalence of mandated continuing education and training could be cited to argue against the assumption that adults are internally motivated.

Although research testing the validity of andragogy and its underlying assumptions has been inconclusive, there appears to be continued and widespread application of andragogy in designing instruction in many fields of practice. With regard to the practice of designing instruction for adult learners, Wuestewald (2016) makes the case that instructional design has moved from a behaviorist to a cognitive to a humanist orientation wherein andragogy and “various adult learning strategies” (p. 70) are widely adopted, including in executive development programs. Blackley and Sheffield (2015) bring together college students and andragogy and argue for “digital andragogy” wherein educators need to “equip and encourage adult learners to choose and use the affordances of accessible digital technologies to personalize their learning and facilitate their interactions with peers and tutors” (p. 408).

A sampling of additional publications seems to support the notion that andragogy is a useful framework for designing instruction in areas ranging from teaching leadership (McCauley, Hammer, & Hinojosa, 2017), becoming an “andragogical librarian” (Cooke, 2010), adults learning math (McDonald, 2013), continuing professional education (Wittnebel, 2012), syllabus construction in higher education (Fornaciari & Lund Dean, 2014), e-learning behaviors (Codreanu & Vasilescu, 2013), health literacy (Brown, 2017), a MSW (master in social work) practice class (Carpenter-Aeby & Aeby, 2013), mentoring (Klinge, 2015), teacher education (Storey & Wang, 2017), promotion of sustainable lifelong learning societies (Charungkaittikul & Henschke, 2017), criminal justice (Gilbert, Schiff, & Cunliffe, 2013), and adult learning in a virtual world (Mancuso, Chulp, & McWhorter, 2010). Finally, Henschke (2014) presents an extended discussion of how to integrate andragogical principles in designing curriculum for adult learners.

Despite some writers' grim predictions of andragogy's demise, practitioners who work with adult learners continue to find Knowles's andragogy, with its characteristics of adult learners, to be a helpful rubric for better understanding adults as learners. As St. Clair (2002, p. 2) suggests, “[A]s a guide to teaching adults, andragogy has a great deal more to offer when it is approached, as Knowles originally suggested, as a set of assumptions.” Further, the implications for practice that Knowles draws for each of the assumptions are also considered to be good instructional practice for all ages, especially adults. Thus, we see andragogy as an enduring model for understanding certain aspects of adult learning, and as maintaining “its role as a necessary component of the field's shared knowledge” (St. Clair, 2002, p. 2). Henschke (2011), who maintains a database on andragogy, concurs, noting that there are hundreds of published documents on andragogy and that future discussions “should go beyond Knowles' version and include the world-wide perspectives of others who have written and published on andragogy.” Henschke believes that “continued research will help to establish andragogy as a scientific discipline” (p. 36). Andragogy does not give us the total picture, nor is it a panacea for fixing all adult learning practices. Rather, it constitutes a major component of the rich mosaic of adult learning.

McClusky's Theory of Margin

Although andragogy remains the best-known model for understanding and designing instruction for adult learners in a wide range of instructional settings, there are a number of other models that offer us some insights into adult learning. One enduring model has been selected for review here. We have chosen to present McClusky's theory of margin (which actually predates andragogy) because it continues to captivate learners who find they can readily relate their life situation and their learning to this model. Like andragogy, McClusky's theory focuses on an adult's characteristics and life situation as a means of understanding participation in learning activities.

Theory of Margin

McClusky first presented his theory of margin in a 1963 publication, followed by discussions of application in 1970 and 1971a. His theory is grounded in the notion that adulthood is a time of growth, change, and integration in which one constantly seeks balance between the amount of energy needed to engage in learning and the amount available. Further, McClusky recognized that adults needed to continue learning “in a rapidly changing society” in order “to survive and develop” (1971, p. 415). However, this need to learn intersected in an adult's life with the stage he or she is in and “the suitability of the learning situation to the learning potentialities and learning handicaps” one has at that stage. Reflecting the assumptions underlying andragogy (above), he goes on to say that the strategies for learning…in the adult years require consideration for the individuality of adults, for their life commitments which may aid or obstruct learning, for their adult time perspective, for their transition through critical periods of life, for their acquired sets and roles which may aid or obstruct learning, and for their adult requirement that the learning be relevant to their problems (p. 415).

McClusky characterized the “balance” between energy needed to learn and the amount of energy available as a ratio between the “load” (L) of life that dissipates energy, and the “power” (P) of life that allows one to deal with the load. “Margin in life” is the ratio of load to power. More power means a greater margin to participate in learning.

Both load and power consist of external and internal factors. Hiemstra (1993, p. 42) explains:

The external load consists of tasks involved in normal life requirements (such as family, work, and community responsibilities). Internal load consists of life expectancies developed by people (such as aspirations, desires, and future expectations). Power consists of a combination of such external resources … as family support, social abilities, and economic abilities. It also includes various internally acquired or accumulated skills and experiences contributing to effective performance, such as resilience, coping skills, and personality.

Taking both power and load into consideration, McClusky (1970, p. 83) (Figure 5.1) explains how the theory works:

Margin may be increased by reducing Load or increasing Power, or it may be decreased by increasing Load and/or reducing Power. We can control both by modifying either Power or Load. When Load continually matches or exceeds Power and if both are fixed and/or out of control, or irreversible, the situation becomes highly vulnerable and susceptible to breakdown. If, however, Load and Power can be controlled, and, better yet, if a person is able to lay hold of a reserve (Margin) of Power, he [sic] is better equipped to meet unforeseen emergencies, is better positioned to take risks, can engage in exploratory, creative activities, is more likely to learn, etc.

Chapter 16 Reflections on Learning in Adulthood

This book is testimony to the fact that we know quite a lot about learning in adulthood. Each chapter speaks to some aspect of learning, whether it be the context, the learner, the process, or some combination of these factors. In reviewing and reflecting on all of this material, we arrived at our own understanding of learning in adulthood. This last chapter is our opportunity to articulate what we ourselves have come to understand about this phenomenon.

Many who have written on the topic of adult learning have tried to delineate principles summarizing what has been learned from research or observed in practice that can be applied back to practice. Knowles's (1980) assumptions underlying andragogy, discussed in Chapter 5, are a good example of a set of principles about adult learners that has implications for practice. Others have advanced similar lists, often with a distinctive orientation. Smith (1982) distinguishes the learning process from the learners. He presents six observations about learning, such as “learning is a personal and natural process” and “learning has its intuitive side” (p. 35), and notes four critical characteristics of adult learners: a different orientation to education and learning, an accumulation of experience, special developmental trends, and anxiety and ambivalence. In a popular version of this approach, Zemke and Zemke (1995), in an update of their 1981 article, listed “thirty things we know for sure about adult learning” dividing these “thirty things” into the three categories of adult motivation, curriculum design, and classroom practice. MacKeracher (2004), who makes sense of adult learning through looking at the complex interaction of cognitive, affective, physical, social, and spiritual aspects of learning, offers practical advice to both learners and facilitators for enhancing the learning activity. Learners, for example, should trust the process, be willing to take risks, and be “fully open to new ideas and experiences” (p. 180). Instructors should be reflective, passionate, responsive, provide a safe and supportive environment and “keep in mind that you are a model for learners whether you want to be or not” (p. 181).

Several recent publications reflect the orientation of the authors. For example, Illeris (2017) presents a broad, foundational view of learning, situating learning in today's late modern competitive society wherein “learning has now become a crucial parameter for economic growth and global competition” (p. 20). Wlodkowski and Ginsberg (2017) focus on motivation—what motivates adults to learn, how aging and culture affect motivation, and how instructors can embed motivational strategies into instructional designs. Brockett's (2015) book is a very practical, hands-on guide for new teachers of adults. Writing from a critical theory perspective, Brookfield (2005) identified a “series of learning tasks” that are central to becoming critical learners beginning with “learning to recognize and challenge ideology that attempts to portray the exploitation of the many by the few as a natural state of affairs” (p. 39). In a later writing (2012b), Brookfield offers a four-step process of moving from critique to action that includes hunting assumptions, that is, identifying just what you believe, followed by checking assumptions for their accuracy. The third step is to see things from different viewpoints followed by the fourth step of taking informed action.

We considered doing a meta-analysis of the principles, concepts, and characteristics found in these sources as well as those delineated elsewhere in this book and in some of our own work. That undertaking, however, would probably have resulted in another set of principles that would not truly capture what we have come to understand about learning in adulthood. Furthermore, there is some question in our minds as to the usefulness of any one set of principles for guiding either research or practice. If, as we have tried to bring out in previous chapters, learning in adulthood is embedded in its context, a single set of principles is not likely to hold true for the wide-ranging diversity of learners and learning situations.

What we have done, therefore, is to step back and think about how learning in adulthood can be distinguished from learning in childhood. This was, after all, the question that stimulated much of the research, writing, and debate in the field's early efforts to differentiate itself from other subfields of education. Our answer, in essence a summary of the book, is that learning in adulthood can be distinguished from childhood in terms of the learner, the context, and to some extent, the learning process. Furthermore, it is not just that differences can be seen in these areas. Equally important, the configuration of learner, context, and process together makes learning in adulthood distinctly different from learning in childhood. In this chapter we first explore these differences and then discuss how well our understanding of the phenomenon is addressed by theory and practice. Finally, we speculate on the next steps in furthering our understanding of adult learning.

The Learner

The focus on the individual learner, grounded primarily in the psychological paradigm, drove research and practice in adult learning until the 1990s. Historically, the field of adult education has struggled with determining what defines an “adult learner” and thus who is able to be a participant in adult education activities. Is it age, social role, being self-sufficient? What about young school dropouts? Incarcerated adults? Various sociocultural differences as to when one is considered an adult? Physically or mentally impaired adults? Perhaps one of the more inclusive definitions of an adult learner is suggested by Merriam and Brockett as “learning among those whose age, social roles or self-perception, define them as adults” (2007, p. 8). Representative lines of inquiry from this perspective include the ways we have traditionally framed the life experiences of individual learners, the linking of the psychological frame of development to learning, much of our research on motivation and participation, the information processing framework of cognition and memory, and the neurobiology of learning.

The comparatively richer life experiences of individual adults have been cited by nearly all writers as a key factor in differentiating adult learning from child learning. As Kidd (1973) wrote nearly 50 years ago, “Adults have more experiences, adults have different kinds of experiences, and adult experiences are organized differently.” It is these experiences that set adults “off from the world of children” (p. 46). If accumulated life experiences distinguish children from adults, they also differentiate one adult from another. A group of 60-year-olds will have less in common than a group of 20-year-olds.

Experience is an assumption “that can arguably lay claim to be viewed as a ‘given’ in the literature of adult learning” (Brookfield, 1986, p. 98) and is a key instructional resource in teaching adults (Brookfield, 2015). Knowles (1980, p. 44) conceives of it in terms of a “growing reservoir of experience” that functions as “a rich resource for learning.” It also establishes a person's self-identity: “Adults derive their self-identity from their experience. They define who they are in terms of the accumulation of their unique sets of experiences.” And “because adults define themselves largely by their experience, they have a deep investment in its value” (p. 50).

Experience, however, can be quite varied as Fenwick (2003, p. 13) points out, including the following:

Direct embodied experience, an immediate encounter in the here-and-now, planned or unplanned, involving us physically, emotionally, sensually, mentally, and perhaps spiritually; … vicarious experience [in which we] … imagine ourselves immersed in the encounter. We sometimes are exposed to simulated experience, a direct experience planned to be like something real…. We can experience through reliving a past encounter…. There is also collaborative experience, joining others in a shared community of experience whose meaning is constructive together amid conversation and joint action…. [Finally], introspective experience, such as mediation or dreaming, or reading, are powerful forms of experience occurring in a special psychic space…. All of these dimensions suggest different ways to understand whatever is construed to be learning in each context.

Whatever the type of experience, it functions in several ways that are particular to adult learning. First, as Knowles observed, adult learners themselves become important resources for learning. Adults can call on their experiences in the formulation of learning activities, as well as serve as resources for others in a learning event. Second, the need to make sense out of one's life experiences is often an incentive for engaging in a learning activity in the first place. As Illeris (2017) states, “In adulthood, learning is fundamentally selective—it is not possible to learn everything—and there exist particular various life projects and life orientations, for example, concerning work, family and interests, which control the learning” (p. 201). Third, the actual engagement of past experiences with learning is somewhat different for adults than for children. An adult's major use of experience in learning is on reintegrating or transforming meanings and values, whereas children tend to use their experiences in accumulating new knowledge and skills. As Mezirow (2000, p. 5) points out, “[L]earning is understood as the process of using a prior interpretation to construe a new or revised interpretation of the meaning of one's experience as a guide to future action.” Finally, it should be noted that an adult's past experiences can become obstacles to new learning. Some may have to unlearn negative attitudes toward learning, old ways of doing things, prejudicial views, and so on.

The arena of development from a psychological perspective is another way in which adults are differentiated from children. Although it is true that both adults and children are involved in developmental processes, the nature of the processes is qualitatively different. This difference can be clearly illustrated with Havighurst's (1972) developmental tasks for different life stages. From infancy through adolescence, the tasks reflect physical maturation (learning to walk, getting ready to read) or preparatory activities needed for future adult roles. Beginning with the tasks of young adulthood, there is a shift to functioning well as an adult—bringing up young children, managing a home, achieving adult civic and social responsibilities, and so on. Erikson's (1963) life stages also reflect a shift from childhood dependence to adult-oriented dilemmas. In the first five stages of infancy through adolescence, the child deals with establishing trust, autonomy, initiative, industry, and identity. Adults struggle with intimacy, generativity, and integrity, characteristics manifested in adult roles of spouse, parent, worker, and citizen. In at least one developmental theory, the notions of adult experience and development converge. Part of Kohlberg's (1973) theory of moral development stipulates that one cannot attain the higher stages of development until one has experienced irrevocable moral decision making. Fowler (1981), whose stages of faith build on Kohlberg's idea, also maintains that later stages cannot be attained until adult life. Even some models of cognitive change and development assume an accumulation of experience with age. As Cranton (2016) concludes about transformative learning experiences, although it is more appealing to emphasize the dramatic…from the perspective of the person experiencing transformation, it is more often a gradual accumulation of ordinary experiences that leads to a deep shift in thinking, a shift that may become clear only when it is over. (p. 30)

Mezirow (1991, p. 193) also asserts that “transformations likely to produce developmentally advanced meaning perspectives usually appear to occur after the age of thirty,” whereas Kegan (1994) alleges that most people do not even enter the highest levels of consciousness until their forties.

In addition to a sequential stage-phase view of development, life events and transitions differentiate adult learning from child learning. Many of the life events and transitions that adults face are unique to adulthood and require adjustments—adjustments often made through some systematic learning activity. It is these transitions and life events that are likely to result in significant, meaningful learning (Ecclestone, Biesta, & Hughes, 2010; Merriam & Clark, 2006). They are also what motivate many adults to seek out learning. Aslanian and Brickell (1980), for example, found that 83% of adult learners in their study were involved in learning to cope with a transition. The transitions were primarily career related (56%), followed by family life transitions (35%). “To know an adult's life schedule,” they concluded, “is to know an adult's learning schedule” (pp. 60–61).

There is little doubt that there is a strong link between the motivation to participate in a learning activity and an adult's life experiences and developmental issues. From studies of participation and motivation that document that adult roles, especially that of worker, are prime motivators for learning, to Mezirow's (1991) process of perspective transformation that is precipitated by a “disorienting dilemma”—that is, one's familiar patterns of coping with life events prove ineffective—learning in adulthood is a function of social roles and developmental issues.

Research on human memory and how the brain functions also has the learner center stage in understanding learning. From these perspectives learning has been conceived as something that primarily occurs inside the heads of individual learners. Through studying memory, we continue to try to decipher how adults receive, store, transform, and retrieve information and how these processes are affected as we age. We have even tried to see if we could improve these processes through formal learning activities, and more recently, by using various forms of pharmaceutical interventions. One of the most intriguing knowledge bases on which to draw about learning in adulthood in the last few years is neurobiological (see Chapter 15). By discovering more about how the brain actually functions, we have a better chance of unlocking lifelong learning disabilities and such crippling diseases as Alzheimer's and Parkinson's, which can render adults incapable of learning even at a rudimentary level. There is a great deal of potential to enhance what we know about individual learners, especially when we merge the ideas from the cognitive and neurobiological sciences.

In addition to what is happening in the mind of an adult learner, there is a burgeoning literature looking at learning as an embodied, emotional, and perhaps spiritual occurrence (see Chapter 9). Although this research and writing still focus on the individual learner, it is at the same time expanding our understanding of learning beyond an information processing, cognitive activity.

Just being an adult is thus a crucial factor in distinguishing between learning in adulthood and learning in childhood. The accumulation of experience, the nature of that experience, the developmental issues adults address, how the notions of development and experience relate to learning, and how aging affects our memory and the more general neurological basis for learning—all of these differentiate adult learners from children.

The Context

Historically, adult educators in social action and community-based learning programs have taken the context into account in their work. From Jane Addams's Hull House immigrant programs to Highlander's Research and Education Center's involvement in labor movements, civil rights, and environmental action, the adult learner was seen as affected by, and having an effect on, his or her social context. However, it was not until the 1980s or so that context received more systematic attention in the literature on adult learning, due in part to a heightened interest in critical and feminist theory. There are at least two ways to think about context in this more recent work. The first is the notion that learning is a product of the individual interacting with the context. Recent theories of situated cognition, reflective practice, and cognitive development are representative of this interactive view. A second way to view the importance of context in learning is to consider how the structures and institutions of society affect learning. These structural dimensions include factors such as race, class, gender, cultural diversity, and power and oppression.

The interactive dimension of the context acknowledges that an adult's life situation is quite different from that of a child. A child's life situation is usually characterized by dependency on others for his or her well-being. The majority of adults, in contrast, are adults because they have assumed responsibility for managing their own lives. As Paterson (1979, p. 10) reminds us, To say that someone is an adult is to say that he [sic] is entitled, for example, to a wide-ranging freedom of life-style and to a full participation in the making of social decisions; and it is also to say that he is obliged, among other things, to be mindful of his own deepest interests and to carry a full share of the burdens involved in conducting society and transmitting its benefits. His adulthood consists in his full employment of such rights and his full subjection to such responsibilities.

The taking on of social roles characteristic of adulthood—roles such as worker, spouse or partner, voting citizen, and parent—differentiates adults from children better than chronological age does.

This difference in the social position of adults and children is reflected in contextual differences in their lives and their learning. A child's life is bounded by home and school, whereas an adult's life situation is defined primarily by work, family, and community. Through home and school, children learn to be adults; going to school is a full-time job. Theoretically at least, both home and school are sites where young people learn how to function as adults. The curriculum in both settings is determined primarily by others who decide what is important to know in order to become responsible members of society. Education, even undergraduate education for traditional-age students, is basically preparatory—young people are “prepared” for the world of work.

Adults, in contrast, typically add the role of learner to other full-time roles and responsibilities. The learning that adults do arises from the context of their lives, which is intimately tied to the sociocultural setting in which they live. Learning cannot be separated from “the social context within which it occurs. We are encapsulated by our culture” (Jarvis, 2018, p. 21). As Jarvis (1992, p. 11) has observed: “Learning … is about the continuing process of making sense of everyday experience.” Jarvis also draws a connection between motivation and context: “The reason for participation does not always lie within the learner but in the dynamic tension that exists between the learner and [the] socio-cultural world” (1983, p. 67). The potential for learning occurs “at the intersection of us and our world” (Jarvis, 2006, p. 10). For example, an assembly-line worker whose job has been outsourced or performed by a computer will need to retrain for other employment; nurses will need to keep up with changes in the health care system and ways in which technological innovations are impacting their everyday practice. Zoning and tax laws, waste disposal management, climate change, and so on that affect citizens' lives in communities also lead to new learning. As Illeris (2017) summarizes,

All learning is situated, i.e. it takes place in a certain context of a social and societal nature which, through interaction with the learner(s) becomes an integrated part of the learning. In this way the learning comes to reflect the social and societal conditions for possibilities. (p. 115)

Thus learning in adulthood is characterized by an interaction between the adult and his or her lifeworld and the duties and responsibilities inherent in the adult roles of worker, spouse, partner, parent, and citizen.

The differences in context between the lives of children and adults and how these differences influence learning are highlighted in an often-cited article by Resnick (1987) contrasting learning in school and outside school. She writes that “school is a special place and time for people—discontinuous in some important ways with daily life and work” (p. 13). There are several ways that school learning differs from other (mostly adult) learning. First, in school, individual cognition has, until recently, been primarily rewarded, whereas outside school shared cognition is the norm. In school a student succeeds or fails at a task independently of what other students do…. In contrast, much activity outside school is socially shared. Work, personal life, and recreation take place within social systems, and each person's ability to function successfully depends on what others do and how several individuals' mental and physical performances mesh. (p. 13) Second, “school is an institution that values thought that proceeds independently, without aid of physical and cognitive tools,” at least in testing situations (p. 13). In the real world, people use all sorts of tools on a regular basis, such as books, notes, signs, and computers, to solve problems and function more effectively. Resnick notes that it is the use of tools that allows “people of limited education to participate in cognitively complex activity systems” and cites Brazilian black market bookies' use of prepared probability tables for functioning in a demanding mathematical system (p. 14). In our own society, personnel in fast-food restaurants ring up orders on a computer where the food items are keyed by picture and word; automatic teller machines (ATMs) and apps have replaced bank tellers and personnel.

Resnick states that too often school learning is decontextualized, resulting in little transfer between school and real-world reasoning. Finally, generalized learning occurs in school, but situation-specific competencies are needed out of school: “Schools aim to teach general, widely usable skills and theoretical principles…. Yet to be truly skillful outside school, people must develop situation-specific forms of competence” (p. 15). What people in all settings (including, Resnick also points out, adult technical training, management, and continuing professional education) need to learn is “to be good adaptive learners, so that they can perform effectively when situations are unpredictable and task demands change” (p. 18). Resnick's analysis underscores the contextual differences between learning in childhood and in adulthood and acknowledges the importance of the more recent work on situated cognition and reflective practice (see Chapter 8).

In delineating differences between children and adults regarding the context, we note that these differences have ramifications with regard to social and ethical issues. Because children's education is preparatory, for example, they are expected to learn certain social and moral values as well as specific bodies of knowledge. Adult education struggles with issues of provision and access to learning opportunities, perhaps because adult education is primarily a voluntary activity, whereas schooling for children is compulsory. Similarly, the ethical issues involved in adult learning differ somewhat in that an adult's learning is often intimately tied to his or her life situation and status as an adult. Questions thus arise regarding agency and responsibility in the learning activity, as well as the outcomes of that interaction. Daloz's (1988) now famous article titled “The Story of Gladys Who Refused to Grow: A Morality Tale for Mentors” explores this very issue of how much adult educators should “push” the development of their adult students.

The context, then, in which adult learning takes place generally differs from the context of most childhood learning. Moreover, every adult learning situation differs from every other situation, whether the learning is done in a formal or nonformal setting or on one's own. Certainly informal learning contexts, including social action and community-based learning, are where much of adult learning takes place. Although these contexts vary from individual to individual, they all hold the potential for learning and in fact organize our learning. We need only see them as sites for learning. In a delightful and insightful book on the integration of learning and living, Bateson (1994, p. 9) writes, When the necessary tasks of learning cannot be completed in a portion of the life cycle set aside for them, they have to join life's other tasks and be done concurrently. We can carry on the process of learning in everything we do, like a mother balancing her child on her hip as she goes about her work with the other hand or uses it to open the doors of the unknown. Living and learning, we become ambidextrous.

At another point, she comments on the unfortunate tendency of our society to compartmentalize:

If only for tax purposes, we are forced to label activities as work, or play, or learning, or therapy, or exercise, or stress reduction, missing the seriousness of play, the delight of good work, the healing that happens in the classroom. For adults, learning is rarely the only activity going on…. By emphasizing a single thread of activity, we devalue the learning running throughout. (p. 108)

The importance of context is not just that it is interactive with one's learning. There are structural dimensions to our social context, often unseen and unacknowledged, that subtly affect learning. This aspect of context recognizes that our society has become highly multicultural and diverse, and that political and economic conditions often shape the learning experience. It is no longer a question of whether in adult learning situations we need to address issues of race, class, gender, culture, ethnicity, and sexual orientation but rather a question of how we should deal with these issues, the power dynamics involved, and so on. We are beginning to recognize that it is important to know the backgrounds and experiences of our learners not only as individual learners but also as members of social and culturally constructed groups such as women and men; poor, middle class, and rich; Black, White, and Brown. Indeed, culture, the deeply learned mix of language, beliefs, values, and behaviors that pervades every aspect of our lives, significantly influences our motivation. What we learn within our cultural groups shapes the physical networks and systems throughout our brains to make us unique individuals and culturally diverse people. (Wlodkowski & Ginsberg, 2017, p. 2)

These socially constructed notions of who our learners are and who we are as educators and the subsequent power dynamics should be given the same attention in teaching and learning, planning, and administrative functions as the “technology” (that is, program design, instructional strategies) of our practice. (See Alfred, 2010, Hansman & Sissel, 2001, Lund & Colin, 2010, Nanton, 2016, and St. Clair & Sandlin, 2004, for discussions of sociocultural and political contexts and their impact on adult learning.)

Further, exposure to other groups of people and cultures has been greatly expanded through travel, participation in the global marketplace, and the technological wonders of the digital age. These changes afford all adults’ opportunities to learn from others and to expand their worldviews. Bateson (1994, p. 17) explains how this kind of exposure can lead to learning: “Each person is calibrated by experience, almost like a measuring instrument for difference, so discomfort [in encountering difference] is informative and offers a starting point for new understanding.” She goes on to say that “it is contrast that makes learning possible” (p. 27). The inclusion in this edition of Learning in Adulthood of a chapter on Eastern and indigenous perspectives on learning and knowing acknowledges the growing influence of other epistemological systems on our understanding of adult learning.

The Learning Process

Of the three areas of learner, context, and process, in the learning process there are fewer dramatic differences between adults and children. Houle (1972), one of the field's most respected adult educators, maintained that the process of learning is fundamentally the same for adults and children. Research, however, has uncovered some differences—differences that when linked with context and learner help distinguish adult learning from child learning.

Two process factors in particular—speed and meaningfulness—have been shown to affect adult learning. Speed refers to the time a person has to examine a problem or respond to a situation. An adult's ability to respond slows with age, and time limits and pressures have a negative effect on learning performance. With regard to meaningfulness, perhaps because an adult's learning is so closely tied to his or her life situation, adults are not inclined to engage in learning unless it is meaningful. Adults are thus likely to do poorly on recall of nonsense syllables, for example, compared with younger learners, who are more conditioned by school experiences to learn material that may not be immediately relevant. Linked to the meaningfulness of material is the variable of motivation. MacKeracher (1996, p. 80) defines motives as the needs that learners feel when starting a learning activity. They may relate to unmet needs or unwanted conditions in life and to the pursuit of positive growth toward desired goals. As learners proceed toward meeting unmet needs, resolving unwanted conditions, or reaching desired goals, motives for learning tend to change in relation to any feelings and experiences of success/failure and satisfaction/dissatisfaction.

In summarizing the literature on motivation, MacKeracher observes that “the tendencies which are labeled ‘motives’ arise from within the learner. Despite encouragement from some writers to ‘motivate learners,’ facilitators cannot do this directly” (p. 79). Wlodkowski and Ginsberg (2017) concur, stating that when adults can see that what they are learning makes sense and is important according to their values and perspective, their motivation emerges. Such circumstances elicit intrinsic motivation and probably facilitate a mind-body state conducive to learning. Intrinsic motivation is evoked. (p. 16)

In addition, there are other age-related factors that may affect learning in adulthood. Adults are more likely than children to have health problems. Fatigue, medication, interference from previous learning, environmental conditions, and so on certainly affect new learning. Acquisition of information may become more difficult, because the rate at which working memory processes information seems to slow with age. The point to be made here is that the nature of the learning process of an adult is likely to be different from a child's because of the greater incidence of these occurrences and the greater impact of these factors on older learners.

By linking an adult's greater experiential base to learning, a case can be made that cognitive functioning in adulthood may also be qualitatively different from childhood. Recognizing that the prior accumulation of knowledge is crucial to the integration of new learning, and that adults have accumulated more knowledge than children, by extension, learning potential, at least in some areas, would naturally increase with age. Research on fluid and crystallized intelligence bears this generalization out (see Chapter 14). Other scholars, especially those writing from a transformational learning perspective, do not focus so much on the accumulation of knowledge as on the transformation of experience as a characteristic of adult learning.

Finally, it should be noted that those who posit stages of cognitive development in adulthood that are different from those unfolding in childhood contribute to our understanding of how the learning process may be different for adults. Kegan (1994), for example, proposes a level of consciousness model in which dialectical thinking becomes the hallmark, or highest level, of mature adult thinking. Framed from the assumption that our postmodern world necessitates this form of thinking in order to respond effectively to the demands of adult life, Kegan asserts that adults rarely expand their thinking to this level until in their forties or fifties. As Kegan observes, “I suggest that we are gradually seeing more adults working on a qualitatively different order of consciousness than did adults one hundred years ago because we live twenty or more years longer than we used to” (p. 352).

The Configuration of Learner, Context, and Process

We believe that learning in adulthood can be distinguished from childhood learning by the way in which learner, context, and some aspects of the learning process blend in adulthood. The configuration looks different than it does in childhood. In our discussion of each component, we noted how adults are different from children, how the context of adult learning is different from the context of child learning, and how certain features of the learning process are unique to adults. Although we have attempted to discuss these components separately, our discussion reflects their natural interaction. An adult's life experiences, for example, are a function of the sociocultural environment and the learner's personality. We can think about this interaction with regard to an adult's work experiences. As everyone is aware, the context of work has changed dramatically with the emergence of a global marketplace, advances in technology, and the shift from an industrial to a service and knowledge-based economy. Some adults are training for jobs that did not exist 5 years ago, many are changing jobs often, and a growing number are experimenting with alternative job structures, such as consulting, telecommuting, and job sharing. Previous experiences as well as one's personality will determine how these changes are accommodated, which in turn affects both one's self-concept as a worker and notions of career development.

With regard to the context of adult learning, we would be remiss to not acknowledge the learning demands of our digitalized world. As King (2017) points out, “this constant need to master new learning is a source of great frustration and limitation for people who do not have adequate skills to do so” (p. 239). Further,

Beyond job searching, shopping and entertainment are other frequent daily adult experiences that continue to require more technology skills. These skills span a wide range of technology sophistication. In the digital age, adults need to be comfortable learning new technology from purchasing products online to configuring their new GPS; streaming music to their cell phone; configuring the SMART TV, sound system, cable receiver, and gaming system; and searching online for manuals to fix lawn mowers, dishwashers, and washing machines….In addition to the changing types of skills needed, learning complexity continues to increase in the digital age. (p. 240)

King (2017) identifies several “types” of learning needed for such a fast-changing world. Learners need to be flexible “to adapt to changing conditions” (p. 241), independent, yet collaborative, interdisciplinary in orientation, and creative because “people in the digital age must be imaginative in the ways they approach learning and develop solutions” (p. 242).

How an adult processes information from the sociocultural context, and even what an adult attends to in the environment, is also wrapped up with the developmental concerns of the moment. A parent of teenagers, for example, is much more likely to notice and perhaps attend a workshop on teenagers and drugs than someone not involved with that age group. And the state of the economy is likely to be of great interest to someone nearing retirement, who might then design a learning project on adapting to changes in income. In both examples, the sociocultural context, the accumulated life experiences, developmental concerns, and presumably the nature of ensuing learning experiences converge to make learning in adulthood qualitatively different from learning in childhood.

In summarizing the material on learning in adulthood, we also asked ourselves to what extent theory and practice might reflect this integrated perspective of adult learning. The work on self-directed learning or participation, for example, by definition focuses on a particular aspect of the phenomenon. The self-directed learning frameworks emphasize the process, and to a lesser extent, the context and the learner. Similarly, the research on participation does not deal with the learning process per se; rather, the context and the learner are the most important variables.

Some theories or models of adult learning focus on adult characteristics (for example, Knowles, 1980), some emphasize an adult's life situation (for example, McClusky, 1970), and others center on changes in consciousness (for example, Freire, 1970; Mezirow, 2000). These three emphases can be loosely equated with the adult, the context, and the learning process. Knowles's (1980) still-popular notion of andragogy is almost entirely focused on how the adult learner is different from a preadult learner. McClusky (1970) attends to the adult's life situation and social context from which the need or motivation to learn arises.

For both Freire (1970) and Mezirow (2000) learning in adulthood is a transformative rather than an additive process. It requires the ability to reflect critically on one's thoughts and assumptions—a particularly adult skill. Both theories also account for adult characteristics, and in particular, life experiences and developmental concerns unique to adulthood. And in both theories the sociocultural context is a critical component. It is in the sociocultural context that adults have experiences that must be processed. The two differ, however, in the notion of being emancipated through this learning process. Mezirow, although not discounting social change as an outcome of perspective transformation, emphasizes personal psychological change. And although Mezirow's theory of perspective transformation perhaps comes closest to taking into account our notions of context, learner, and process, there are still some questions as to just how comprehensive his theory is. Is the process he outlines unique to adulthood? What about adults who do not reflect critically? Can transformations occur through other mechanisms? His theory seems most appropriate for informal, self-directed learning situations, although several have sought application in more institutionally based settings (Cranton, 1996, 1997; Mezirow & Associates, 1990, 2000; Taylor & Cranton, 2012; Taylor, Marienau, & Fiddler, 2000).

For Freire, in contrast, being emancipated from false consciousness requires political action aimed at changing society. Critical theory and feminist pedagogy share with Freire their emphases on emancipation and empowerment. Further, both of these orientations begin with the sociopolitical context of people's lives. Critical theory attends to socioeconomic class as the major variable creating inequities and oppression, whereas feminists look to gender as well as the intersection of race, class, and gender. Both perspectives call for adults to reflect critically on power and oppression and engage with other like-minded adults in a radical restructuring of society.

How well does practice account for the uniqueness of adult learning? This question is difficult to answer without looking at a specific learning situation. Furthermore, it is basically a question of the relationship between theory and practice. To what extent is the knowledge that we have accumulated about adult learning—knowledge reviewed in this book—reflective of what actually happens in practice? Moreover, to what extent is the knowledge that we do have derived from practice, and to what extent does it inform our practice? Cervero (1991) has delineated four positions relative to the interaction between knowledge and practice, each of which can be applied to adult learning. His framework allows us to see how the knowledge presented in this book and practice are related.

The first position posits that the practice of adult learning has been carried out without reference to what is known about how adults learn. This position in fact characterizes much of adult learning, because only a small percentage of teachers, administrators, program developers, and others have had any formal training in adult education. From this position, those working with adult learners rely on common sense and trial-and-error learning, a less formal but certainly no less valuable source of guidance for practice.

The second position is that a systematically collected knowledge base illuminates practice. It is thought that if this knowledge is disseminated through professional preparation, in-service staff development, and so on, practice will be strengthened. Lists of principles and guidelines, for example, such as those reviewed at the beginning of the chapter, are often disseminated through workshops and in-house publications, ostensibly to improve one's practice in adult learning. There are also numerous publications that attempt to show how knowledge about context, learner, and process could be put into practice. Andragogy in Action (Knowles & Associates, 1984), for example, presents 36 case studies of how characteristics of adult learners can be incorporated into the planning of learning activities in settings ranging from business and government to universities and volunteer organizations. In other publications, authors show how adult life experiences and adult developmental theory can form the basis for programs and support services for learners in higher education. Wlodkowski and Ginsberg (2017) present 60 instructional strategies to elicit and encourage an adult learner's motivation. King (2017) in Technology and Innovation in Adult Learning offers practical suggestions and activities on how to integrate technology into adult learning and teaching. Finally, Cranton's Understanding and Promoting Transformative Learning (2016), Mezirow, Taylor, and Associates' Transformative Learning in Practice (2009), and Mezirow and Associates' Fostering Critical Reflection in Adulthood (1990) and Learning as Transformation (2000) review exemplary programs and suggest methods “for precipitating and fostering transformative learning in the context of the classroom, in special workshops, in informal group settings, in collective social action, in counseling sessions, and in the workplace” (Mezirow & Associates, 1990, p. xv).

The third position on the relationship between knowledge and practice is that educators operate intuitively with an understanding of adult learning whether or not that knowledge is articulated. This theory-in-practice position holds that “practitioners actually do operate on the basis of theories and knowledge” and that “theory can be derived from practice by systematically articulating the subjective meaning structures that influence the ways that real individuals act in concrete situations” (Cervero, 1991, pp. 26–27). This notion has been investigated with regard to professional practice (Schön, 1987, 1991, 1996) and is promoted in adult education, especially in the work of Cervero and Wilson (1994, 2005). With regard to the learning situation and other aspects of adult education, the central task of this approach is to “describe educational practice and help practitioners become more reflective about their own individual actions” (Cervero, 1991, p. 29). The orientation of our book—in particular, our attending to context and exploring social issues—reflects the critical stance toward practice inherent in this position.

The fourth position on theory and practice is that they are indivisible. Here the focus is on “what counts as knowledge and how, where, and by whom this knowledge is produced” (Cervero, 1991, p. 31). Understanding the production of knowledge is emancipating. This perspective is best illustrated by critical theory, postmodernism, and feminist theoretical assumptions about knowledge and learning. More than the first three positions, this perspective—that theory and practice are indivisible—takes into account the political, economic, and sociocultural context in which learning occurs. Examples of adult education practice from this perspective are community-based literacy programs, feminist pedagogy, critical pedagogy, popular education programs and movements, and participatory research activities (Aldridge, 2015; Merriam, 1991). Participatory research “has faith in people's ability to produce their own knowledge through collective investigation of problems and issues, collective analysis of the problems, and collective action to change the conditions that gave rise to the problems in the first place” (Gaventa, 1988, p. 19). This method of producing knowledge, indeed this perspective on the relationship between theory and practice, makes space for alternative knowledge systems that have been excluded from the “official” body of knowledge. Although we recognize that, for the most part, the material presented in this book is representative of “official” knowledge, we hope that some of the less mainstream information that we have included will stimulate further research to make such unconventional knowledge more visible.

Some Concluding Thoughts

In this final chapter, we have articulated our understanding of learning in adulthood and assessed how well learner, context, and process as a unique configuration in adulthood are reflected in theory and in practice. We conclude with some observations and suggestions. First, we think the field has developed a significant knowledge base about learning in adulthood, much of it fairly recent. We are optimistic that learning in adulthood will continue to interest researchers and educators and that we will know quite a bit more within the next several years. Second, the nature of contributions in this area is changing. Adult educators are moving from description to theory building and looking at adult learning more holistically, as attested to by our two chapters in particular: “Embodied, Spiritual, and Narrative Learning” and “Learning and Knowing: Eastern and Indigenous Perspectives.” The field is also considering the sociocultural context in which learning takes place, how race, class, gender, able-bodiedness, sexual orientation, and so on affect learning, thus shifting from a primarily psychological orientation to a broader contextual view. We are indeed more cognizant of the social issues and dilemmas involved in the provision and practice of adult learning. And we are examining notions about how knowledge about adult learning itself is produced and legitimized.

We are hopeful that learners themselves will be a great source of our understanding of learning in adulthood. In fact, we suggest that future research in adult learning be collaboratively designed with adults who are learning on their own or in informal ways, as well as with participants in formal and nonformal learning activities. Focusing on adults would counter some of the research on the learning process itself, which more often than not employs nonadults or select populations such as college students. We also suggest that research that takes into account the sociocultural and political context of adult learning might well advance our understanding of the problems of access and opportunity that continue to trouble the field. Although this book has drawn from a voluminous literature base, we still feel there is much to be learned about learning in adulthood. We hope that readers will be inspired to think about their practice with adult learners and contribute in some way to our further understanding of this very complex phenomenon.

Printed by: Printing is for personal use only. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted without the publisher's prior permission. Violators will be prosecuted.