what is visible—their actions. It would only be in listening to teachers talk about their
practice that we might be able to tell. Teachers who practice principled eclecticism
should be able to give a reason for why they do what they do. When asked whether or
not they would use a role-play, for instance, they will likely invoke the common
teacher response, ‘It depends... .’ ‘It depends,’ they will say, ‘on what we are
practicing,’ or ‘on whether or not we have done a role-play recently,’ revealing that
their teaching philosophy might include such principles as the need to match a
particular target language point with a particular technique or on the need for variety
among teaching activities. They might even say that it depends on what time of day it
is or what day of the week it is, recognizing that they frequently have to make
decisions resulting from the complexity of classroom reality, including what is
happening socially among the participants at the time (Allwright 1984; Allwright and
Hanks 2009; Nunan 1992; Prabhu 1992; Clarke 1994).
Now the answer ‘it depends’ might be seen by some to be a sign of teachers’
avoiding taking a position. But ‘it depends’ answers might be taken by others as signs
of the wisdom of practice. For, after all, teaching is a contingent activity that requires
a response in the moment. It is also true that with us human beings, there is often a
gap between our intentions and our actions (Clarke 2007), despite the fact that ‘we are
all seeking coherence in the world—ways of aligning our behavior with our
convictions ...’ (ibid. 2007: 200). Of course, even if we were to achieve total
congruence between our beliefs and our actions, we cannot control everything in our
interaction with our students. In complex systems, sometimes unintended
consequences occur (Larsen-Freeman and Cameron 2008).
And finally, it is true that many methodological decisions are outside the control of
teachers. They must teach for a test, for instance. Or they may have a class where
students come with negative attitudes toward the study of language. Fanselow (1987)
observes that perhaps as little as two percent of the variance that contributes to
learning may be controlled by the teacher. And yet as he says:
But so what? If learning equals one hundred percent, and lack of learning means
anything less than one hundred percent, the two percent we are responsible for
makes the difference between learning and not learning.
(Fanselow 1987: 11)Teaching as the Management of Learning
Teachers who teach as if their practice causes learning, while recognizing that they are
not in control of all of the relevant factors, and that at the very least they are in
partnership with their students in this enterprise, can be true managers of learning.^2
We are not speaking narrowly of classroom management, but rather more broadly of
someone who can live with the paradox of knowing that teaching does not cause