Abstract
The principles advocated in the widely acclaimed keynote texts on reflection have nominally been followed for over 30 years in educational programmes and schemes for professional development. This article was prompted by the impression that practice and theorising reported in publications about journal writing does not consistently endorse the advice in the seminal literature, and is potentially confusing for those who seek advice and direction. In particular, some writers tolerate or encourage narrative reporting without significant reflection thereon; many articles only feature aspects of the reflective cycle, and metacognitive forward planning that aims to validate the emerging generalisation is often neglected. Noteworthy matters are identified for attention and suggestions made for an approach that today’s journal writers and their mentors may find useful to employ, in order to better focus reflections and validate their generalisations.
Origin and development of reflection and reflective writing
It is over 30 years since the publication of the keynote texts on reflection for learning (Boud et al., 1985; Kolb, 1984; Schön, 1983). Their widely acclaimed suggestions have been followed in educational programmes and schemes for professional development (Bourner, 2003; Williams and Grudnoff, 2011). Reflection is well established as an essential component of lifelong learning and professional development (Cowan and Westwood, 2006; Davis, 2003; Findlay et al., 2010; Jay and Johnson, 2002; Moon, 2004; Zeichner and Liston, 1996). It is taken here as thinking in which a learner identifies and seeks an answer to a question whose answer, preferably in generalised form, is likely to be of practical use to them. The learner deliberately thinks about past or impending actions, with a view to effecting future improvement (Hatton and Smith, 1995). This process can take place within a written, keyed or narrated reflective journal and should lead to new understandings and appreciations (Boud et al., 1985).
Much reflective practice nowadays features learning journals within which writers engage with their learning experiences, and unearth their tacit knowing (Bickford and van Vleck, 1997). Many justifications for such reflective journals have been advanced by many advocates (McGarr and Moody, 2010). Anecdotal claims of the benefits, issues and challenges associated with this type of self-directed learning have proliferated (O’Connell and Dyment, 2011). Journal writing slows the pace of learning, increases the sense of ownership of learning, acknowledges the role of emotion in learning and encourages metacognition (Moon, 2004; O’Connell and Dyment, 2011; Samuels and Betts, 2007). Journalling is claimed to enable writers to stand outside their experience, seeing it more objectively, and being detached from emotional outcomes (Boud et al., 1985). It has been described as a bridge across which learners can move from the specific to the general, while developing a habit of reflection (Griffin, 2003). It is posited that critical reflection depersonalises the learner (Michelson, 1996), but there is evidence to suggest otherwise (Cowan, 2006; Cowan and Cherry, 2012).
Without much presentation of data-based evaluations, the literature virtually presumes the effectiveness of reflective practice in developing metacognition (thinking about thinking), promoting self-directed development, and nurturing valuable abilities used in professional life (Moon, 1999b). There are few rigorous evaluations of the effectiveness of reflective writing in achieving valued learning outcomes (White et al., 2006); and critics have cautioned against the wave of euphoria commending and reflecting on experiences as a valuable component of constructivist learning through which learners construct understanding. Recent criticisms of critical reflection have been summarised by Hickson (2011). In particular, Thompson and Pascal (2012) identified problems with the recent move towards the technical rationality model, wherein through abstract consideration learners determine appropriate means to achieve their predetermined ends. Schön (1987) described this in much quoted terms as inadvisable ‘high ground’, preferring what he called ‘the swampy lowlands’ of pragmatic developments originating from specific practice situations.
The published advice about reflective journal writing is thus somewhat contradictory. From the writer’s comprehensive searching, the first emerging issue was that the ‘best practice’ which journal writers are advised to pursue varies according to its advocate. It thus seems profitable to identify matters whose inconsistent or missing treatment is worthy of attention by today’s writers of reflective journals and those who arrange such activity. This review will explain why these inconsistencies merit attention, and offer suggestions accordingly.
Difficulties for learners – and inconsistencies in ‘best practice’
There is considerable ambiguity (Thompson and Pascal, 2012) in the many loosely formulated and unclear definitions of what reflective learning should entail (Boud and Walker, 1998; Hanson, 2011; Zhu, 2011). Most relate to an assortment of pedagogical theories (Jay and Johnson, 2002; Marcos et al., 2009; Williams and Grudnoff, 2011). Jay and Johnson (2002) judged the concept as ill-defined, difficult to characterise and even more difficult to teach. Many learners certainly find the reflective task too vague to understand and apply (Zhu, 2011), and lack appreciation of its potential value to them (Bulpitt and Martin, 2005; Cowan, 2006).
Marcos et al. (2009) analysed articles reporting graduate teachers’ reflections on recent activities. They found little evidence that these reflections, even after thorough induction and with subsequent support, embodied the recommended procedures. Implementing the key aspects of the principles and procedures of reflection was rare. Few teachers presented their reflection as a complete cyclical process. These researchers declared their ‘grim view’ that only 0%–10% of new teachers in service could reflect effectively on their practice.
Journal writers often fail to probe their experience and thinking rigorously. Zhu’s student teachers mostly engaged in surface-level reflection (Zhu, 2011). Similarly, Findlay et al. (2010) reported that few of their students wrote in a critically reflective manner. From over 75 articles, O’Connell and Dyment (2011) found that the majority of student journals comprised descriptive accounts, with limited or no reflection. Bain et al. (2002) and Samuels and Betts (2007) found a need implicit in the literature to challenge students to move in their reflections beyond description to analysis, in order to deconstruct what had happened and why, and so be able to reconstruct by creating alternative approaches.
Bannert (2006) found that many learners find it difficult to perform metacognitive activities spontaneously, thus only managing to achieve lower level learning outcomes. Furthermore, as Bold summarised for Chambers in a partial dialogue (Bold and Chambers, 2009), some teachers of reflection themselves encounter problems (Mälkki and Lindblom-Ylänne, 2012; Thorpe, 2000) such as lack of relevant training (O’Connell and Dyment, 2011; Ryan, 2010), demanding professional requirements, reluctance to take risks and the need for sensitivity to individual needs and differences. Guidance and training are clearly desirable (Kuit et al., 2001).
A century ago, Dewey (1910, 1933) stressed that exemplary reflective thought distinctively originates in doubt, hesitation, perplexity or mental difficulty; that it leads into searching, hunting, inquiring and self-questioning to resolve doubt and dispose of perplexity; and that it is accompanied by a desire to apply the consequent learning to bring about change in practice (Hughes, 2009). Reflection should thus first entail searching interrogation of one’s own experiences, identifying and resolving issues worthy of attention (Bourner, 2003). Relevant prompts can effectively structure rigorous yet solitary reflective thinking (Lai and Calandra, 2010). Such a searching set was published by Jay and Johnson (2002). Nevertheless, 2 years later Cuncliffe (2004) provided for reflective class activity a table of bland questions (and illustrative responses) which mainly sought narrative reporting. And in 2011, Kolencik and Hillwig (2011) called for journal entries featuring merely descriptive recall of conclusions already formulated, without fresh reflection. Understandably, Morton was writing on behalf of himself and fellow learners when he protested in 2008 that it was unclear from the published accounts what he was expected to address (Morton, 2009).
From this review, it seems clear that learners are often not shown how or why to reflect (Bulpitt and Martin, 2005), or what types of reflection are possible (Ryan, 2010); consistent advice to those writing reflective journals is hard to come by and is needed to help learners to develop a clear understanding of what their reflective writings should feature, beyond and distinct from narrative reporting (Thorpe, 2000). Consequently, this article first sets out to clarify the various purposes and foci for the different available categories of reflection, and thereafter to consider issues around depth and rigour of reflection, how this can be facilitated and what self-questioning will encourage competent and profitable reflection.
Purposes and categories of reflection
The literature encompasses four distinct purposes for reflective thinking. All embody grounds for the reflecting person to be puzzled or uncertain, to learn by engaging in reflective questioning and to consider future action as advice to self in response to the embodied challenge (Day, 1993; Harrison et al., 2005; Jay and Johnson, 2002). Each yields a different type of outcome for the learner.
Reflection-for-action (Cowan, 2006) anticipates activity and identifies possible options, deliberating between possibilities by questioning and comparing them (Van Manen, 1991). It can be equated with clinical forethought; the outcome sought is a considered and viable forward plan.
Typical questioning: What are the challenges immediately ahead of me? How should I tackle them? How should I decide how to tackle them?
Reflection-in-action was described, with detailed examples, by Schön (1987). It entails thinking on one’s feet beyond so-called common sense, being suddenly conscious at the time of what one is doing and how one is doing it (Thompson and Pascal, 2012). A common outcome is immediate appreciation or learning.
Typical questioning: What just occurred to me? Can I use that in future? How?
Reflection-on-action is much practised in employment situations (Brockbank and McGill, 1998). It is undertaken with hindsight after the events that are being interrogated (Cox, 2005; Zhu, 2011). The outcomes sought are transferable learning and understanding.
Typical question: What can I learn from this experience which should make me more effective in situations like this than I have been in the past?
Critical incident analysis (Ghaye and Lillyman, 1997; Griffin, 2003; Moon, 1999b) entails interrogation of a recent significant event (Tripp, 1993). It differs from reflection-on-action, in that it focuses on a particular incident rather than a compendium of linked events. The desired outcome is to make sense of an immediately puzzling or contradictory experience, or to learn from a mistake.
Typical question: What should I take from this?
Several approaches may be utilised in relation to a single experience. For example, a project student may plan for forthcoming challenges through reflection-for-action; gain new insights, as events progress, through reflection-in-action; consolidate long-term development ultimately through reflection-on-action; and worry about certain troublesome aspects of the experience through critical incident analysis (Cowan and Cherry, 2012). Journal writers should consciously consider the potential for their learning of a combination of approaches with complementary purposes.
The contribution to reflection of self-questioning and active experimentation
Postman and Weingartner (1971), echoing Dewey (1910), maintained that the most important intellectual ability that humans have developed is the art and science of asking questions. They valued those who perceive and ask searching questions, even more than they venerated those with a rich store of book knowledge. For ‘Here is the point; once you have learnt how to ask questions – relevant and appropriate and substantial questions – you have learned how to learn and no one can keep you from learning what you want and need to know’ (Postman and Weingartner, 1971: 34).
Significantly, Day (1993) criticised the absence in Schön’s writings of consideration of the discursive, dialogical dimension of learning. He stressed, as did Samuels and Betts (2007), that while reflection on experience is a necessary condition for learning, it is not sufficient, for either probing by others or pointed self-questioning should occur to ensure rigour in reaching conclusions or planning consequent actions. The absence of such questioning in some articles cited in the previous section is hence a noteworthy issue for attention.
Many suggested structures (Cox, 2005; Cuncliffe, 2004; Samuels and Betts, 2007) simply concentrate on retrospectively reviewing past experiences and confidently drawing generalisations from them. Mälkki and Lindblom-Ylänne (2012) pointed out that the relationship between generalisation and action is a crucial issue requiring a learner’s attention. Reflection can carry the learner from a particular experience to the tentative formulation of a speculative generalisation. There is a logical need to confirm, disprove or refine that hypothesised generalisation, by ingathering and reviewing data during the next relevant experience (Cowan, 2006; Dimova and Loughran, 2009). Hence, another aspect of reflective practice worthy of attention is placing rigorous emphasis on the validatory activity which Kolb (1984) called active experimentation.
Achieving worthwhile depth of reflection
Most articles specifying desirable level, rigour or depth in reflections share common ground, although not a common vocabulary, in using similar concepts and emphasising the value of probing self-questioning. Many writers classified depth according to cognitive levels that develop towards critical thinking. Kember et al. (1999) and Kreber (2004) classified depth by the extent to which personal meaning-making progresses from descriptive to analytical to critical. Moon (1999b) rated the most valuable depth of reflective learning as transformative, featuring a deliberate fresh intention by the learner. Leijen et al. (2011) classified depth of reflection in successive stages of describing the application of knowledge and principles (Van Manen, 1991), deconstruction (Samuels and Betts, 2007) with interpretive understanding of choices and relationships, justifying, and evaluating its worthwhileness and reflective methodology. Ghaye and Ghaye (1998) proposed the progression: retrospective personal description; perception with an emotional aspect, which Thompson and Pascal (2012) stressed as looking beneath the surface; relating personal views to those of others; interactively linking forward to future action; and critically placing self and thinking in a broader context. Jay and Johnson (2002) favoured simply categorising descriptive, comparative and critical reflections. Descriptive reflection concentrated on affective aspects, scrutinising how writers had been feeling, and what they were pleased and/or concerned about. Comparative reflection considered different perspectives, and different interpretations regarding possible improvements. Critical reflection involved reasoned judgements about how best to understand, change or do something, and of how the reflective process informed and renewed their perspective. Their sequence of categories thus deepened consideration from a particular situation to multiple perspectives and emerging implications. In contrast, the Eastern perspective (Dimova and Loughran, 2009) simply centres on a subject’s ability to examine the grounds for their thinking and to define their limitations.
The literature certainly contains some idiosyncratic approaches to ensuring adequate depth. For example, White (2002) categorised and judged her personal reflections in terms of specific ‘conditions’, narrowing the focus of reflection, and ‘contingencies’ for which several possibilities existed. Nevertheless reflection is generally valued by the evidence of probing self-questioning, and moves to increasing depth from descriptions and comparisons to interpretation, justification, evaluation and critical discussion of personal meaning. So an issue worthy of attention by journal writers is to specify, and then rigorously pursue through self-questioning, their desired depth of reflection (sometimes confusingly described as progressing to higher levels). However, whether self-questioning is possible autonomously merits consideration.
Facilitation
Leijen et al. (2011), summarising many reports of reflection, concluded that it depends on interaction with others. Dialogue intermentally with a facilitative person is valuable in prompting fresh thinking. Development then emerges through a constructivist approach in which learners assemble their own understandings (Cuncliffe, 2004; White, 2002). The role of proactive facilitators (Canning and Callan, 2010) is then to ‘nudge’ (Bain et al., 2002; Bruner, 1986; Cowan, 2013) rather than to ‘force feed’ (Ashton and Elliot, 2007) learning and development. Facilitators can nurture the reflective learning through pointedly encouraging learners to seek counter examples, and expose and resolve contradictions, doubts and dilemmas (Zeichner and Liston, 1996). This can occur through interactive facilitation (Cowan and Westwood, 2006; Ghaye and Ghaye, 1998; Harrison et al., 2005), reflective conversations (Bold and Chambers, 2009) unlocking access to individual learning (Canning and Callan, 2010), critical questioning on ways of working and power relationships, strong personal mentor/mentee relationships (O’Connell and Dyment, 2011) and the facilitation of sophisticated reflection on reflection, or meta-reflection.
However, in completely individual journal writing, isolation precludes intermental contributions to the socio-cognitive process. Probing must instead be delegated to the intramental level of reflective dialogue with the alter ego of self, often prompted by a structured format. For deep conversation with oneself (Hughes, 2009) can provide insight for future action by following a keen self-questioning structure that encourages deliberate thinking, consolidating and enhancing reflection (Hatton and Smith, 1995) at the boundaries of the writer’s knowledge, sense of self and world experience (Brockbank and McGill, 1998). It can generate that ‘action upon our mental nature’ which ‘is something individual and permanent’ (Newman, 1996).
Development of self-interrogative skills is thus central to an effectively structured autonomous approach (Aronson, 2011). Researchers generally advocate guidance for a non-facilitated reflective journal writer through modelling (Loughran, 2002), examples (Moon, 2004) or structure (Griffin, 2003). Furthermore, since the learner’s emotional condition is ‘the point where body, culture and mind come together’ (McVarish, 2009), Bean and Stevens (2002) stressed that scaffolding of reflection should feature both cognitive, interpersonal and emotional matters. Writing both about events and the emotions associated with them can help learners gain insight into their actions (Hughes, 2009; O’Connell and Dyment, 2011).
Samuels and Betts (2007) even suggested using self-assessment to deepen reflection. This seldom-mentioned possibility embodies a level of self-facilitation whose potential was explored by Boud et al. (1985). Taking responsibility for monitoring, managing and evaluating their own development leads students to deeper responses to the requirements of reflective writing (Bain et al., 2002). It can also incorporate reflection-on-reflection, or metacognition (Samuels and Betts, 2007).
Thus, to facilitate and develop the rigour and depth of their reflections, isolated reflective writers should identify or devise protocols promoting probing self-questioning extending to their affective needs.
Towards a self-questioning structure for reflection
Regardless of how or in what way we learn, there are certainly criticisms of Kolb’s (1984) work in that many agree that while there may well be stages in learning, they are not as distinct as suggested nor do they necessarily follow one from the other, for they may all happen at once or interrelate in some way. Nevertheless, there is still support for the notion that reflective practice has its place, and indeed it still underpins much of current practice.
Bolton (2005) advocated encouraging journal writers to discover and resolve their personal learning needs, by questioning, exploring and analysing personal experience (Cowan and Westwood, 2006). Smyth (1989) had proposed a 4-stage framework, apparently abstracted without attribution from Zeichner and Liston’s (1985) work on supervision and without provision for active experimentation to validate chosen conclusions:
Describing the issue or problem: ‘What did I do?’
Informing oneself by examining the issue or problem from multiple perspectives: ‘What might this mean?’
Confronting related assumptions: ‘How did I come to be this way?’
Reconstruction by considering optional views and actions: ‘How might I do things differently?’
Beginning and experienced teachers wholeheartedly embraced this protocol after following it in practice for a mere 6 weeks (Williams and Grudnoff, 2011). However, it is argued here that there is a need for further self-questioning steps also derived from Zeichner and Liston (1996). So doing, it is argued, would discourage mere description or narrative accounts of previous thinking, would encourage consciously searching questioning, and would include consideration of active experimentation. Emotional matters for reflection would be incorporated, following Vygotsky (1986) who advised that ‘thought is not begotten by thought; it is engendered by emotion’ (p. 252).
The suggested sequence is as follows:
Selectively describing the issue or problem, including feelings at the time;
Examining it from multiple perspectives;
Self-challenging, and being open in mid-process to new insights;
Forward planning, considering alternative views and future actions;
Metacognitive self-review, including provision for validating the generalisations followed in later practice.
Each step usually depends upon at least some questioning in a prior step within an essentially iterative and constantly constructive process.
Selectively describing
Consideration of material irrelevant to the writer’s purpose clutters up subsequent stages in the reflection. Effective summarising therefore entails objective sifting of the apparently relevant (including feelings) from the trivial (Moon, 1999a) and distinguishing between fact and inference (Tripp, 1993). Deciding starkly and effectively what to include and exclude for subsequent self-questioning is a consummate skill worthy of deliberate cultivation (Moon, 2004; Schön, 1983). Even when writing for oneself (Cowan, 2009), a reflective writer should find it fruitful to identify and explicitly summarise the salient facts of the experience being scrutinised:
What is worrying me most about this, and why?
What aspects should have most attention from me – and why?
For what forthcoming demands should I prepare myself?
Examining from multiple perspectives
Reflective scrutiny has much in common with traditional cognitive analysis (Anderson et al., 2001; Bloom et al., 1956); significant connections should be identified, and inconsistencies highlighted. The core content for reflective analysis, however, is usually less comprehensive; it concentrates, sometimes within the mundane, on what is likely to be useful to the writer (Tripp, 1993), setting aside what is irrelevant to their particular purpose.
How comfortable do I feel about my identification and consideration of all valid options?
Which of the emerging possibilities should I concentrate on? Why?
Self-challenging and openness to new insights
Critical and creative reflection usually benefits from intrapersonal brainstorming. Taking time out and digressing to question priorities, assumptions, conclusions and assertions to date can suddenly ignite a question of particular value to the writer. Heartfelt puzzlement can dynamically generate a range of fresh and viable options (King and Kitchener, 1994).
I still cannot understand why our group did not vote for my excellent and well-explained proposal? What else can I do now?
How can I overcome, or at least minimise or obscure my terror at the prospect of conducting my first unstructured interviews with complete strangers?
It can also prove constructive to engage serendipitously in open thinking – suddenly, and often without being aware of the prompt. Schön (1987) has written at length on what he aptly called reflection-in-action, making immediate decisions or judgements in the midst of action (Moon, 1999b). Often insights can come to mind unbidden (Dewey, 1933) during reflective review. Cuncliffe (2004) cites Wittgenstein (1980) in describing moments when we are ‘struck’ by something, thereby generating a spontaneous emotional or cognitive response.
This doesn’t feel right. What would happen if I …?
Wait a minute, wait a minute (Bannert, 2006; White, 2002). I think I feel a blue flash coming on … (Cowan, 2006).
Forward planning
The journal writer’s appreciation of how their choices should be made is highly significant for the focus and effectiveness of the subsequent reflection (King and Kitchener, 1994). Nevertheless, many journal writers find it difficult to move beyond the analysis of an experience to identifying and considering subsequent options (Leijen et al., 2011). Reflective planning considers suggestions that merit further attention and decides how to carry them forward, according to the writer’s priorities and values (Boud et al., 2006; Schön, 1987). Deciding the values which should guide that decision-making is thus important (White, 2002).
What matters most to me now? Why? So what should I do about that?
What should I record, and later analyse, to help me judge the merits of this generalisation?
Metacognitive self-review
Reflection about the reflecting happens when the writer, having developed an internal voice, examines and evaluates the quality and nature of their reflective processes. Feelings and personal values will generally be at the heart of this self-questioning (Moon, 2004). Planning active experimentation is a preliminary step in metacognition. The journal writer should determine the data they must ingather to inform their reflection upon both the validity of their current generalisation, and the way in which it was reached.
My generalisation didn’t work out well in practice. What can I do to sharpen it up?
How sound has my reflection been to date? What needs remedial attention?
Conclusion
Reflection begins from a question whose useful answer the person concerned desires to identify. It progresses into thinking whose focus relative to the activity from which it hopes to learn is determined by the timing of the chosen question. It should entail sustained questioning and especially self-questioning by any person who reflects privately. The generalised conclusions that emerge from increasingly probing critical review should be confirmed in what is called active experimentation. Reflective writing is thus a questioning process whose form in principle has widespread support; but there is evidence that it is practised with variable levels of commitment and competence, in particular with regard to probing review. That there is a lack of supportive evidence for the suggested protocol described in this article is an important reservation. However, the model includes no elements that have not been used, and evaluated in much reported practice. Another limitation is the issue of the questionable importance of active experimentation. Although this stance may be overly influenced by notions of scientific enquiry (Heron, 1992), speculative generalisations formed without adequate data should be tested out in practice and confirmed, refined or rejected. This state of the art review has identified issues which diligent journal writers will wish to question, metacognitively. Determining the answers is naturally left to them.
Footnotes
Funding
This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial or not-for-profit sectors.
Author biography
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