The Secret DOS

The Little Emperor Strikes Back

Do NOT piss on my soapbox!

After last week’s unintentionally contentious posting that resulted in accusations of elitism and poor writing, I am going for a less controversial approach this week. But be warned: despite the exhortations of one of my critics to write for the readers, I am writing primarily for myself. There is an appropriately vain hope that some of you might find something of use in what I have to say, but this is really a crucible for my own thinking. To be honest, the fact that I am choosing to self-publish on the…ummm…worldwide web makes me wonder about the sanity of the reader who felt that it is incumbent upon the writer to consider their audience. Apologies in advance (and feel free to disagree as vehemently as you can muster).

The Easter break has meant that time has become stretched and distorted. I am now able to do things such as read and think. I am away from distractions both welcome and unwelcome. This is how I picture life post-lottery win. And I have been reading an awful lot about education. I have invested in Dylan Williams’s book about formative assessment, John Hattie’s book about Visible Learning, Tom Bennett’s book about teaching; I have subscribed to some fantastic blogs such as Pragmatic Education, Tabula Rasa, Scenes from the Battleground. I have discovered some great people on Twitter such as @tessalmatthews, @tombennett71, @philbeadle, @oldandrewuk. I’ve been on holiday for less than a week.

The bubble that ELT finds itself in (at least which I think it finds itself in) has long fascinated and frustrated me. It is a bubble that isolates it from our colleagues in the wider teaching profession: those people who went off and trained to become real teachers, members of a professional organisation and are invariably subject to all sorts of prying eyes and poking fingers. I know that these teachers would probably swoon with envy were they to be aware of our relatively unmoderated existence; just as I am aware that for many practitioners of ELT (is there such a thing as a practitioner of Maths teaching?), this relatively unmoderated existence does not exist for they are primarily teachers and then language teachers (and possibly then English language teachers). Indeed, there was a time when I was teaching in the UK that I yearned to break free of the freedom imposed by EFL and to jump feet first into the regulated, inspected universe of ESOL: public accountability gave ESOL practitioners (that word again) a national curriculum, a set of targets, a series of expectations, a coherent narrative that would speak out to the rest of the world and say THIS IS WHAT IT MEANS TO TEACH LANGUAGE! My efforts were frustrated, however, and I remained in EFL where the coursebooks provided the narrative (This is what it means to teach language) and my personal and political beliefs provided the coherence (this is actually what it means to teach language).

As a language teacher, I knew next to nothing about the world of Modern Foreign Language teaching – the name given to those colleagues of ours who teach French, Japanese, Mandarin, Spanish, German, Italian, Spanish etc. And the debates that raged in the world of education were virtually unheard of in the world of ELT. Until this week (for me). And now I am discovering just what it is that I have been missing. And now I am learning about just what it is that has been missing from my teaching. And I stand upon the threshold of the new! Because educationalists have been discussing for quite some time just how we go about determining if students are learning and what we do if we discover that they are not. Some educationalists have sought to describe what learning actually looks like. Some educationalists have talked about creating the right environment for learning to develop within. And they have based their theories upon thousands and thousands of educational studies.

It might just be me, but I don’t think that ELT has done this. ELT has pretty much based its practice on theories that have escaped much in the way of critical examination. And we are left with the abominations of the communicative approach, infogaps, skimming and scanning, listening for gist, guessing from context, conversational gambits, pair work, group work, note-taking, vocabulary learning etc etc etc. And you would be hard pressed to find, in my experience at least, one teacher who can point unwaveringly to a body of research that serves as a bedrock for their personal practice.

Our debates our passion-filled polemics about one thing or another: is technology any good? Does dogme work? Should we teach grammar? Rah-rah-rah! Why don’t we try and answer the more visceral questions: what the hell is learning? How the hell can we make it happen? Or how about the questions can reading be taught? Can listening be taught? Should language have ever been broken down into component skills? These questions, I think, are much more fundamental that whether technology impedes or impels learning. Let’s talk about how to harness the power of twitter once we’ve determined what we need to harness it for.

In my experience, fundamental questions are usually met with impulsive answers. I have sat in many one-to-one explorations of teaching with colleagues and tried to help them formulate questions about their practice. Many times, whenever I suggested a question, they immediately replied with an answer along the lines of, “Yes – but we can’t look at that because this happens or this is the case or the students are this way.” In other words, questions were considered to have been answered definitively or to be beyond answering. All that was left was what the teacher already knew. And there was no point in exploring these questions because they already knew the answer. This state of wilful ignorance, I cravenly suggest, is a microcosm of ELT. Of course the communicative approach rocks: language is about communication. Of course skimming and scanning are useful tools: try reading without them. Of course we need to teach learners to listen for gist: are they ever going to be able to understand 100%. Of course language should be broken down into the four skills…how else would you teach it?

There are wonderful bloggers out there who are questioning this received wisdom. Educationalists who are railing against the idea that education is about equipping people with skills and who are rallying behind the idea that education is actually about equipping people with knowledge. And I am in the process of trying to determine what that might mean for my own practice. What knowledge is the English language teacher expected to be able to embed in the minds of English language learners? Was this what made Michel Thomas the success that he was? Had he uncovered an answer to this question? Was this why they killed him? OK…I’m being facetious now…If the knowledge is there, do the skills follow on behind it? Does ELT favour the teaching of skills because it lacks a knowledge base? Is grammar teaching our knowledge base? And this is only the start of my list of questions. Some questions are too opaque for me to be able to put them into words. But I hope to be able to explore them through my reading of blogs and literature from the world of teaching.

For now, I am happy to consider that everything that I have learnt about teaching over the last twenty plus years might be wrong: perhaps it isn’t about getting the students to talk; perhaps there is room for explicit grammar instruction; perhaps it isn’t enough to tell learners that language improvement will come from language use; perhaps language teaching isn’t about skills enhancement; perhaps the depersonalised curriculum provides a framework for knowledge-sharing rather than skills development.

One thing remains clear to me: we do our profession a disservice by divorcing ourselves from our colleagues in the wider educational milieu. We are teachers first and foremost. Our job is to teach. Research has shown that we are the single most important variable in the success or otherwise of this endeavour. More important than the learner; more important than the materials; more important than the environment; more important than the assessment. It is our work that is most likely to have a lasting impact upon how successful our learners are. There was a time when I took refuge in the words of Noam Chomsky who argued that learning has to come from the learners; this may have been a convenient untruth. Research would seem to suggest that learning is dependent upon good teaching. Good teaching, I am beginning to suspect, is not facilitated by the well-intentioned sharing of web-based games and activities, but upon a hard, critical examination of practice and a daily introspective struggle session.


01 Apr 2013 - Posted by | Uncategorized


  1. Interesting!
    I’ve bee meaning to blog about this too. I want to write a piece called “the island of Dr TEFL” basically detailing and asking why our research completely ignores a. Other edu research b. modern languages research

    Comment by Ebefl | 01 Apr 2013 | Reply

  2. We should write a j’accuse together and get rich.

    Comment by thesecretdos | 01 Apr 2013 | Reply

  3. Grammar-Translation rocks!!

    Comment by Paul Duffy | 01 Apr 2013 | Reply

  4. Seriously though – one question I have struggled with throughout my masters course is how to show learning. (My tutor keeps pointing out that I need to do this!) It is fairly easy to show that teaching has taken place, but in EFL, how do you show learning has taken place? As you say, it is probably more convenient to demonstrate this in more scientific subjects, which have a body of knowledge to be absorbed. But is language an art or a science? From my time in Russia, I noticed that students often talked about their ‘knowledge’ of a language. In English we refer to ‘speaking’ a language (“Can you speak French?” for example). Our emphasis is on demonstrating the skill. In Russian, their question would translate into English as “Do you know French?”. It is easier to test for, and hence prove, grammatical knowledge than, say, speaking or listening. We all know a key to Delta lessons is proving that learning has taken place. And we do this. We feed our learners ten collocations and after 60 minutes students are reproducing them in a dialogue. But is this learning? Or is it parroting? Will the learners still be able to produce those ten collocations next week? And what good will it do them if they can?

    I personally feel that EFL has long felt itself to be more cutting edge, more avant garde than other disciplines. The feeling was that we were the innovators: “We did running dictations!! We played find-someone-who!! Whoever did anything like that when learning French at school? If only stuffy MFL teachers in staid UK schools possessed the creativity and panache which we did, then the British wouldn’t be so woeful at speaking foreign languages. They should be learning from EFL!” I feel that this prevailing thought has rarely been questioned. We were possibly so enchanted by the notion that our students could not only learn but have fun too, that we were perhaps blinded to the fact that while the latter was clearly happening, no one was paying serious attention to looking at whether the former was too! And perhaps more crucially, we wouldn’t know it even if we did see it!

    Comment by Paul Duffy | 01 Apr 2013 | Reply

    • How indeed?!?! Perhaps I’ll have a better idea when I am more than a few pages into the Williams book and the Hattie book. Rest assured, I’ll let you know. Ben Goldacre and Tom Bennett are leading a battle for evidence-based teaching at the moment and the former has also referred to how doctors initially rejected the idea that their interventions could be subjected to randomised control tests and other scientific measures.Their expertise was the result of years of experience and personalised knowledge. Researchers had nothing to teach them that they didn’t already know. It is Goldacre’s contention that teaching and learning may yet benefit from a more evidence-based approach.

      The argument that I am leaning towns at the moment suggests that knowledge is a prerequisite of skill acquisition, but I am only just beginning to explore the debate so am not entirely sure that I will emerge on the other side with these beliefs. However, I am fairly convinced that I don’t buy into the argument that just because we can’t predict vocabulary retention a week or a month or a year from now, that our focus should not be on teaching knowledge rather than skills. Similarly, the fact that we don’t know if or how the knowledge will help in the future should not dissuade us from teaching it.

      What I think is necessary is some research into what might constitute the essential knowledge to be taught. I know that Michel Thomas taught a radically different curriculum from most course books! Was he right? I don’t know. Is it vocabulary? Is it grammar? Is it word formation patterns? Is it culture? We shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that learners don’t learn in a vacuum and they will have a world full of influences that shapes their language learning. What implications does this have for our practice?

      These are early days for me and I have way more questions than answers. But I share your opinion that ELT has always thought of itself as a cut above school teachers because we were so radically joyous and embracing of all sorts of crap: learning styles, multiple intelligences, kinaesthetic learning and a long etcetera. Bt perhaps we were simply more gullible? It is rare that we see people progress much further than the so-called intermediate plateau. For a long time we have been comfortable to believe that this is a natural stopping point; perhaps not…

      If nothing else, it should prove an interesting exploration.

      Comment by thesecretdos | 01 Apr 2013 | Reply

  5. You say that teachers are essential, you say you’re seeing education, and ELT, through a new lens; what if all these ‘new’ ideas of yours are the result of poor teaching? How would you know one way or the other?

    When it comes to evaluating teaching, or teachers, by whose foot shall we measure?

    Comment by Rob | 01 Apr 2013 | Reply

    • I think that we have to evaluate teaching by whichever means we are most convinced by. We need to set our own measures and we need to submit them to a critical examination. They may seem convincing to us, but are they convincing to others? “Others” includes students, peers, superiors etc. whatever happens, I think we have to question the disinterest of “professional judgement”. In my experience,it so very rare that we find a teacher talking about an innovation that didn’t turn out well. That either means that as a profession we are blessed with the luck of the devil or that we are not always being entirely honest with ourselves.

      Comment by thesecretdos | 01 Apr 2013 | Reply

  6. I am not sure if I would say ELT teachers are gullible for embracing learning styles, multiple intelligences etc, all of that is certainly worth exploring and I think it is to ELT’s credit that it is often more willing to explore it than other departments. But I definitely don’t think that having done the exploring is a reason for ELT to elevate itself onto a pedestal, (especially when a lot of those ideas, for example, were tried, tested and adopted after Howard Gardner 40 years ago). Anyway, I am only just getting up to Goldacre’s Bad Science so I have a long way to go!! I do strongly believe though that our practice should be informed by research and evidence.

    Comment by Paul Duffy | 01 Apr 2013 | Reply

    • Hi Paul. Forgive the bombast – calling people gullible is unlikely to win many over! But the jury seems to be coming back in an decrying learning styles and the like as myths with no substance. As such, I would probably be less inclined to say that ELT explored these myths and more inclined to say that it embraced them.

      Bad Science is a great read. Enjoy it!

      Comment by thesecretdos | 02 Apr 2013 | Reply

  7. Interesting post, although I’m not sure about the bit about inspectors and imposed national curriculum being a better system for teachers to work in: a lack of such restraints may actually be beneficial for ELT at times, with individual teachers who are committed and informed being able to introduce more experimental ideas into their practice than they would otherwise be able to do. This is perhaps the reason why EFL feels itself to be ‘more cutting edge’ at times? I also detect in your writing a move away from the practitioner towards the academic. I believe the ‘practioner informed by theory’ or ‘academic informed by practice’ are the only models that count. Too little theory and but too much theory and you become divorced from the dirty reality of the classroom. More needs to be done to bring these worlds together, but I think the key is not to sit academics next to practioners and vice versa. Practitioners need to be encouraged to do more research and given time to read more, and academics need to do more actual hands-on language teaching.

    However, I wholeheartedly believe ELT should open its eyes more to the bigger picture, with more people taking into account what’s happening in MFL and in Educational research in general, or even to what’s happening in ELT in other countries. To a large extent, this is one of the benefits of belonging to an international association of teachers. At the IATEFL LT SIG pre-conference event this year, we’ve invited an MFL teacher and expert in educational technology to talk to us, and for the 3rd year running we are working more closely with TESOL. Some of us also have links with EuroCALL, which is an organisation that covers all language teaching, not just ELT, and many of us have been involved with teachers of other languages through EU funded language learning projects. That said, I agree that the great majority of teachers teach in an ELT silo.

    Comment by Graham Stanley | 02 Apr 2013 | Reply

    • Hi Graham. Thanks for stopping by and joining the conversation. I agree with you – inspectors and national curriculums are, on balance, not really worth it. Inspectors are almost entirely worthless, with the smidgin of purported use being very questionable indeed; the national curriculum in the UK is not entirely worthless because it was drawn up with some consultation with teachers. What I personally like about it is the illusion of structure that it provides: it states clearly “this is what it means to be Level 1”. It also says to teachers (who invariably are in much need of being told…and I consider myself one of these teachers), “Look, this is what it means when we say teach listening and these are the skills that need to be developed if listening is to improve.” This is useful for teachers who have developed professionally believing the teaching of listening to consist of no more than pre-listening input, while listening activities, post-listening comprehension. The national curriculum acts, in this regard, as a developmental tool that problematises the teaching of skills. However, this is a personal bias and I am drawn to any abstract framework that provides a means of navigating through what is otherwise a dynamic system (hence my current fascination with the scientific method…I draw the line at religion though).

      I wonder though if ELT has actually benefitted from the lack of constraints. I think teachers may have benefitted, but as a profession, I wonder quite how useful this experimentation has been. This wondering is not, at this state, entirely rhetorical. We have spent a long time scrabbling around trying to meet different learning styles and not an awful lot of time as a profession trying to actually identify learning. I have long been frustrated by the profession’s apparent refusal to engage with the issues of evaluation and assessment – keystones of education. As Paul writes above, students may have had a great time hoofing around the building trying to memorise a text, but how do we know that this helps them. How can we know? I agree with you entirely that the answer is not to force academics and teachers to inhabit the same breathing space; like you, I see the answer as being to turn the teaching profession into a research community. Let the professional academics serve as consultants, critical friends, and meta-analysts but let the research itself emerge from the environment within which the practice takes place.

      You and others in the LT SIG are to be commended for reaching out to locate us within a wider context. Perhaps the time will come when we will begin to discuss whether or not there is a function for an International Association of Teachers of Modern Foreign Languages within which ELT might be a SIG? That would truly be a bold step!

      Comment by thesecretdos | 02 Apr 2013 | Reply

  8. I am delighted to discover your blog, secretdos. I share many of your views and frustrations, and I could certainly add long polemics to any j’accuse you might wish to write about the current state of EFL and the at times flaky mentality within it!

    I am in a rather different situation to yourself, since my own DOS is part of the problem rather than trying to be a solution. I have never had any in-house staff development in 6 years at my school. Anything I or any of my colleagues have learned about teaching in that time has been learned in spite of him. He has long since given up on the idea that we could be anything other than bumbling amateurs doing a meaningless job. However, he keeps the trains running on time, so to speak, and as such he is an immoveable object as far as the owner is concerned.

    This being so, I tend to view the ignorance of some colleagues towards the wider world through jaded lenses. I suspect that many people in ELT are like my own DOS: I can only suppose he is insecure about the value of his work, does not believe that the intellectual basis for the assumptions behind it would withstand any serious scrutiny, can’t imagine that he would survive in any other context, and can’t be bothered to teach himself any new tricks. He’d rather not be challenged or found out, and the fact is that ELT is an easy place for such people to hide. There is no comeback and no one for him to answer to.

    Some of my colleagues are actually refugees from ESOL – they were hounded out by the paperwork (so they say), and prefer the more *ahem* free-form existence in my school.

    I once raised the issue of observation in the staff room. Peer observation only, mind (there is no point in suggesting the DOS do it). We don’t ever observe anyone at my school, but I thought it might be a way to subvert the lack of staff development and encourage an exchange of ideas. I was shouted down by those horrified by the idea of… something or other. Needless paperwork, or the challenge of having to think or justify what you do?

    This is a pitiful state of affairs, but the fact that my school is still relatively flourishing inside ELT proves that complacency, indolence and lack of professionalism are not deeply challenged within the industry as a whole. I had hoped the British Council inspection might have changed things, but it didn’t – it was just a case of forging some minutes from meetings that never took place. Easy!

    Sometimes I experience a cognitive jolt, a disconnect, when I compare the types of wonderful ideas and thoughtfulness and reflection I see in ELT online with the reality at work. I don’t know if my school is simply a bad apple, and everyone else is teaching at the kinds of school where brilliant ideas are routinely exchanged and everyone reads ELT Professional, or if these bloggers are simply people like me, searching for other points of light out there somewhere, but who are afraid to admit that their colleagues aren’t really all that bothered.

    Somewhere in the middle, I suppose. But I guess that until we have an honest conversation about these things, there is no chance that anything will improve. I, for one, welcome your views on the topic. Not least for the amusing notion that somewhere out there, there is a DOS who actually gives a stuff about, y’know, learning as a concept. Thanks!

    Comment by Paul Read | 06 Apr 2013 | Reply

    • Hi Paul
      Thanks for the comment. Wow – there’s a lot tied up in there: failing DoS’s, responsibility for teacher development, recovering ESOLers, the usefulness of inspections and more still!

      I’d caution against making any suppositions on your DOS’s frame of mind: he may have his reasons for being the way he is and it is almost certain (I hope) that he wouldn’t recognise your description of him as accurate and fair. Which is not to say that you are being inaccurate and unfair – only that there are generally multiple ways of looking at things and, invariably, we are handicapped by our natural disposition to favour our own interpretations above all others.

      There are so many different layers within your comment that I don’t think a brief reply would do you justice. If you don’t mind, I’ll come back to some of these issues at later points. For now, I endorse entirely your call for honest conversations – honest constructive conversations where all can be discussed on the understanding that we all want to be better at what we do (and if we don’t, we’re honest about that and start looking elsewhere for work).

      Comment by thesecretdos | 06 Apr 2013 | Reply

      • Hello, and thanks for the reply. I take on board your comment re imagining my DoS’s position. Of course you’re right that I can’t really see things from his point of view, and ought therefore to reserve judgement. I do spend more time than is perhaps healthy trying to work it out, owing to its effect on me and my work… but I accept the admonishment 🙂

        I look forward to the day when we can consider our positions from the the understanding you describe, and find myself wishing that the structures such as they are did a little more to encourage this. I’d be interested to know your opinions on inspections as they stand – my experience of them has not been positive, but I wonder if I am being unfair there, too, or perhaps I was hoping for too much from them. Anyway, thanks again for the comment, and the blog.

        Comment by Paul Read | 06 Apr 2013

  9. I’ll share my views on inspections willingly in the next post! We’re probably of the same mindset…

    Don’t think I was admonishing…nor that I think you are being unfair. As I read your comment though, I was imagining how some of my team members would probably think similar things about me. And yet I would be indignant if they did! I recently read an interview with the Spanish synchronised swimming coach who has been denounced as a bully by her swimmers. She didn’t deny the substance of some of the allegations that they had made, but her interpretation of their significance was obviously different. In the past I would’ve dismissed her interpretations as self-serving justifications that denied the reality of the situation. These days I accept that there is no reality…there are too many realities, all jostling for legitimacy. So Bullying Swimming Coach both is and isn’t a bully.

    What can we do in matters like this? Well, I think we struggle mainly because we want our reality to be accepted as the reality. But this is actually the least important thing. Each reality is legitimate; what we should be struggling for is to build a mutually acceptable future reality. In my case, I am being accused of bullying by one of my team members. I don’t recognise the legitimacy of this reality and initially I thouhght that the accusation was being made in bad faith. Now I am beginning to think that the complainant genuinely believes that I bullied them. I genuinely believe that I didn’t (and I can’t stop myself from crowing that the investigating panel who considered the complaint agreed with my reality over the complainant’s). But it doesn’t really matter, does it? What matters is that in the future, I am aware of what behaviour the complainant feels is bullying and the complainant is aware of what might reasonably be expected of a manager. This new perspective can shape our behaviour and our reactions to the other’s behaviour.

    When puzzling behaviour arises, we shouldn’t rush to condemn it, we should try to verify that what seems to be happening is actually happening: ”There don’t seem to be any big concerns about pushing our professional development forward. Is there any reason for this that I don’t know about? Would it be OK if I…?”

    Which is all a long-winded way of saying that we all struggle to understand other people’s weird behaviour. Invariably the conclusions we draw are not conclusions that they would agree with. So, why not save yourself time and effort and just say to them, “Why did you…/What did you mean when you said…/I get the feeling that….is this correct?” Once a common reality has been established, its imperfections can begin to be confronted and, ideally, resolved.

    But I quite understand where you are coming from: a look at some of the posts on this blog will reveal that I was there only recently. This new understanding me is still in the design stage. My long rambling replies are my emerging thoughts! Thanks for the patience!

    Comment by thesecretdos | 07 Apr 2013 | Reply

    • Thanks for the reply, once again – it is certainly of great interest to me to hear about your experiences, especially because you are on the other side of the fence, as it were. I quite understand this idea of multiple interpretations of the facts, and recognise that it is something I will need to work on, if I am ever to move things forward positively and not either quit (which I don’t want to – it’s otherwise a great school) or go mad. I am not entirely sure that my DOS has ever had training in the art and science of managing people, and even if he has it doesn’t mean that other people know how to play ball and co-operate. It must be like herding cats a lot of the time. Finding ways to communicate meaningfully is no mean feat.

      In any case, you are not ‘rambling’ – just thinking aloud. I am starting a blog for precisely the same reasons 🙂

      I look forward to your next post! Cheers.

      Comment by Paul Read | 07 Apr 2013 | Reply

      • I’ve just found your blog and have enjoyed what I’ve read so far. I have subscribed (anonymously, I hope) through my RSS reader and look forward to reading more.

        Comment by thesecretdos | 07 Apr 2013

  10. Paul, you say you are “not entirely sure that my DOS has ever had training in the art and science of managing people”. That little line just got me wondering about the extent to which this is something which can be learnt through training, or whether it comes from one’s natural personality and ability to empathise, sympathise, motivate, inspire others. I don’t have an answer of course, but I thought it was interesting.

    Anyway, I have now found your blog. I think the perspective of the scientist will be a valuable one for ELT, and any blog on ELT which quotes Carl Sagan is one I will be following closely!

    Comment by paulsimonduffy | 07 Apr 2013 | Reply

  11. And Paul, I just left a comment on your blog, but it’s disappeared! One thing that really annoys me about these blogs is disappearing comments!

    Comment by paulsimonduffy | 07 Apr 2013 | Reply

    • Hi Paul.. it didn’t disappear, I just have to “approve” it before it shows up. Thank you for the comments, both there and here at thesecretdos’s place. It should be showing up now 🙂

      I don’t know how well defined the job or person specs are for the role of DoS. At my school, the appointment is made by the owner, who probably has a different idea of what skills are required than a teacher. From his point of view, he’s probably right. I agree, it’s an interesting question, though one that thesecretdos would surely have much more insight into than little old me.

      It is a pleasure to encounter another admirer of the great Carl Sagan 🙂 . I am always humbled by his generosity of spirit, humanity and clarity of thought.

      Comment by Paul Read | 07 Apr 2013 | Reply

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