Activity Theory: A Foundation for Designing Learning ...

Activity Theory: A Foundation for Designing Learning Technology? Context and consciousness: AT and human-computer interaction. Bonnie A. Nardi (Ed.) Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1996, 400 pp., $40.00 hard cover. ISBN No. 0-262-14058-6. Reviewed by Jeremy Roschelle SimCalc Project San Francisco, CA

Appeared as: Roschelle, J. (1998). Activity theory: A foundation for designing learning technology? Journal of the Learning Sciences, 7(2), 241-255.

Illuminating the co-development of practice and designed artifact is the central aim of Context and Consciousness: Activity Theory and Human-Computer Interaction. Nardi and her colleagues present Activity Theory (AT) as a method of organizing observations and a source of explanation. The book represents a successful EastWest dialogue inspired by tenets of Russian psychology, and seeks to interpret AT to the broader Human-Computer Interaction (HCI) community. The concepts of this theory cluster around activity (conscious, practical, goal-directed human endeavors) and mediation (acts produce effects only through the help of culturally constructed tools). The concepts of activity and mediation provide insight into the codevelopment of practice and technology through researcher’s narrative accounts of the connections between purposeful activity and computer interfaces. The authors of the introductory chapters of this book are ambitious. They predict the ascension of AT, readily overcoming a current crisis in HCI. The crisis is portrayed as a malaise induced by the impotence of HCI in actual design. HCI has been on the sidelines for most user interface breakthroughs, often offering only a running commentary on why the winners won and losers lost. HCI has been “unable

Activity Theory Review

1

Roschelle

to penetrate the human side of the interface.” (p. 19) HCI is afflicted by a Tower of Babel of incompatible, fragmentary terminologies and undisciplined, bricolage design strategies. AT is promised as a potent cure. At least as described in these chapters, AT is not ready to live up to its promise as a grand unifying theory. Two critical problems emerge across the chapters. First, rather than integrate existing knowledge in HCI, the authors of the introductory chapters provide either harsh attacks or superficial dismissals of neighboring approaches and prior results. This is disturbing because later chapters show clear evidence AT researchers appreciate and utilize the results of traditional HCI, Situated Action, Distributed Cognition and Cognitive Science researchers. Second, the book provides no examples that illustrate how AT actually improves a design. To the contrary, AT emerges primarily as a form of failure analysis and post hoc rationalization. This is disappointing after the authors so pointedly highlight the “design impotence” of prior work in HCI. Without evidence of AT’s ability to improve human interaction, I doubt AT will attract many converts among designers. Although the rhetorical framework over-reaches, readers who dig beneath the surface of this book will find some excellent chapters. The penultimate chapter by Engeströ m and Escalante, in particular, illustrates the powerful case studies that AT can produce in the hands of its best practitioners. Across many chapters, AT also emerges as a useful map into rich, multi-faceted data about the intersection of human practices and designed artifacts. The structural characteristics of this theory lend themselves nicely to well-organized tables that concisely summarize results. Finally, there is much to admire in the orientation that AT researches hold in common. Regardless of whether all researchers in HCI adopt the specific vocabulary, conceptual framework, or methodological tools of AT, we can appreciate the move to greater contextualization, the emphasis on participant perspectives, and the need to examine activity at different levels of aggregation. In the first section below, I briefly summarize AT as presented in Context and Consciousness. I then critique the authors' attempts to contrast AT with neighboring theories. Following this, I look at Engeströ m’s chapter as an example of activity theory at its best. In contrast, an examination of Bellamy’s chapter on educational technology design suggests that AT needs to further develop its design implications. In closing, I argue that the authors of the preliminary chapters have provided a nice summary of AT, but a poor presentation of its role. Rather than a grand unifying theory or common foundation, AT is best seen as a orientation, organizing structure and guiding map for analyzing mediational role of artifacts in

Activity Theory Review

2

Roschelle

purposeful activity. 1. What is AT? Nardi describes AT as “a powerful and clarifying tool, rather than a strongly predictive theory” (p. 7). AT seeks to understand everyday practice within a broad historical and cultural context. The central challenge is “understanding the interpenetration of the individual, other people, and artifacts in everyday activity” (p. 8). The central concept and basic unit of analysis of AT, as expected, is activity. An activity is a coherent, stable, relatively long-term endeavor directed to a definite goal or “object.” Examples given include tribal hunting, software development, and financial management.

Tool

Subject

Rules

Object

Community

Division of Labor

Figure 1: Engeströ m’s (1983) schematic structure for an activity Engeströ m’s (1987) triangular picture in Figure 1 provides a schematic for the structure of activity. The most basic relationships are a subject (person) oriented to accomplishing some object (outward goal, concrete purpose, or objectified motive) using a historically-constructed tool. To this simple triangular relationship, community is added, resulting in two more links: The person relates to her community via rules (norms, conventions). The community relates to the object via division of labor (organization of processes related to the goal). Within this schematic, the most fundamental principle of analysis is the hierarchical structuring of activity. AT recognizes three levels. The terminology for these levels is awkward to a newcomer, because it uses the words “activity,” “action,” and “operation” in unfamiliar roles. The book does a good job of sorting these terms out, and I’ll not try to replicate that effort here. Suffice it to say that the Activity Theory Review

3

Roschelle

three levels correspond roughly to cultural, conscious, and automatic levels of behavior. We are usually aware of ourselves acting at the conscious level, on immediate goals with local resources. But this level is conditioned by a larger cultural scope, and supported by automatic behaviors previously learned. The boundaries between these layers are open to development. For example, using a process related to “chunking” in information processing psychology (Newell, Rosenbloom, & Laird, 1989) operations at the conscious level can become automated and subconscious. A second fundamental principle of analysis is mediation. All progress towards the goal is assumed to be enabled and constrained by tools. Tools import history into person-goal relations, carrying a configuration of resources that both enables a task to proceed, and constrains its possibilities. A key concept here is the “functional organ” — a combination of internal (mental) and external (physical) resources that enables action. The concept of a functional organs is similar to Engelbart’s (1963) seminal conception of computers as “augmentation” — becoming an extension of human capabilities that is soon experienced by the actor as part of themselves. But unlike other theories, AT resists the temptation to anthropomorphize tools as agents. A asymmetry between people and tools is carefully maintained through the book: people have goals, whereas tools merely mediate. A third fundamental principle of analysis is development. AT builds upon a Vygotskian concept of development whereby external social processes are internalized into a person’s repertoire through participation in a zone of proximal development. In addition, AT is highly attuned to contradictions that can occur with in an activity. These contradictions can occur at multiple levels as components of the activity triangles become inconsistent or incompatible. The drive for development within an activity is basically a drive to resolve contradictions. The organization and principles of AT should be appealing to developers of learning technology, particularly those who are struggling with understanding technology in a broader context that includes teaching practices, school institutions, and historical educational activities. The hierarchical levels of analysis offer a framework for organizing the dense, wide-ranging observations that occur while studying learning technology in realistic contexts. Moreover, the inclusion of Vygotskian theory as a principle of AT makes it particularly natural for educational researchers who already use a social constructivist account of development. And the triangular structures provide a valuable way to ask check the completeness of an investigation

Activity Theory Review

4

Roschelle

and to ask pointed questions about particular contradictions that may be inhibiting or spurring reform. The introductory chapter by Kuuti is especially worth reading for educational technologists with these interests. An unfortunate weakness in these introductory chapters is the lack of a summary or synthesis of prior findings from AT researchers. AT is presented as a theory without a history of experimental accomplishment. In contrast, primers on cognitive approaches to design (e.g. Norman, 1988) present a concise overview of research results (such as the short-term memory limitations) and corresponding design implications. Because prior AT research is often hard to locate and read, an overview of this community's empirical contributions would be a very helpful companion to the presentation of its theory. Especially since Nardi decries HCI's "disappointing lack of cumulative research results" (p. 11), a compelling history of empirical milestones would bolster the claims of AT's potency. 2. A Critique of AT as Grand Unification of HCI In addition to presenting an AT primer, much of the first five chapters are devoted to positioning AT relative to other paradigms. In particular, cognitive psychology, Distributed Cognition, and Situation Action are considered as competitors. Nardi suggests that these comparisons are meant to be educative, as a way of helping newcomers see AT through a familiar lens. Unfortunately, the accounts of alternative theories given here range from the dismissive (Kaptelinin) to harshly critical (Nardi) with little effort at assessing the actual contributions of alternatives, or possible synthesis of competing positions. Only Kuutti’s chapter positions AT as a natural outgrowth of existing research in HCI. This presumed intellectual competition is particularly unsatisfying because the first five chapters make their argument primarily by claiming the intellectual high ground. For example, AT is said to be more systematic because it offers a consistent conceptual vocabulary. Likewise, AT is more “ecologically valid” (p. 106) than cognitive psychology, more “humane” (p. 13) than distributed cognition, and more “generalizable” (p. 92) than situated action. The argumentation surrounding these terms often seems to value rhetorical advantage over scholarly depth. For example, in Nardi’s argument against Suchman’s (1987) approach to situated action, she states “It it appropriate to problematize notions of comparison and generalization… but it is fruitless to dispense with these foundations of scientific thought. A pure and radical situated

Activity Theory Review

5

Roschelle

view would by definition render comparison and generalization as logically at odds with notions of emergence, contingency, improvisation… ” (p. 92). It is appropriate to reconstruct comparison and generalization in light of newer social sciences. Unfortunately, Nardi does not take up the challenge of showing how AT revitalizes these concepts. Instead, she constructs a strawman and uses it to denigrate Suchman's work. If Suchman rejected comparison and generalization, Nardi's effort to portray her work as anti-scientific might be warranted. But Nardi concedes that neither Suchman, nor any other researcher is “pure and radical.” Furthermore, from the fact that scholar investigates emergence, contingency, and improvision, it does not follow that her work will not support any form of generalization or comparision. For example, a mathematician’s theorem is not inherently chaotic because it is about chaos. Likewise, even though jazz music is emergent, contingent, and improvised, music scholars can readily compare John Coltrane to Charlie Parker, or generalize about the melodic patterns in Be-Bop style improvisations. In contrast to Nardi’s claims, researchers in the Situated Action tradition can indeed compare how actors in different situations improvise, and can generalize about how people utilize resources to act upon contingency. In fact, studying the emergent nature of human action has led to some important generalizations for design: for example, that is important to plan resources for breakdown situations, not just normal functioning (Winograd & Flores, 1986). And many chapters of this book cite examples where Activity Theorists themselves have drawn useful generalizations from the work of Suchman and her colleagues. Moreover, generalization and comparison appear to be equally problematic concepts for AT research. At least as evidenced in the rest of the book, AT research is largely qualitative, case-study research. So normative statistical measures of generalizability will not apply. Nor does Nardi propose a different treatment or offer any examples of concrete research projects in which generalizability was attained. Rather than deepen our understanding, Nardi appears to assume that adopting a "common vocabulary" will directly yield research that supports generalization and comparison (pp. 10-11). If only it were that simple. In contrast to her attack on Situated Action, Nardi offers only one substantial critique of Distributed Cognition: that it too readily anthropomorphizes machines as

Activity Theory Review

6

Roschelle

agents. In all other regards, Nardi lumps Distributed Cognition with AT. 1 This is too bad, because it would be interesting to look at AT from the point of view of the systemic information flows analyzed in Distributed Cognition studies. In these studies, the system and not the person is the unit of analysis. From Distributed Cognition’s point of view, AT’s insistence on denying agency to machines could be seen as a weakness, because as machines grow in power (both computational and as surrogate decision makers), AT may be unable to accurately describe the delegated authority that with increasing frequency resides in machines. Kaptelinin's speedy and superficial dismissal of cognitive psychology is similarly troubling. It is especially surprising because Kaptelinin notes several strong overlaps. Both cognitive psychology and AT analyze the relation between conscious and automatic behaviors (knowledge compilation or chunking in cognitive psychology) and both analyze hierarchical levels of activity (Newell, Rosenbloom, & Laird, 1989). Both posit a goal-driven subject, and see development as resulting from obstacles or contradictions overcome in actual activity (VanLehn, 1989). And as is apparently the goal in AT, cognitive psychology has achieved a methodological rigor that supports scientific generalizability and comparison. Yet Kaptelinin dismisses cognitive psychology by claiming greater "ecological validity" (p. 106). Rather than investigate ecological validity in depth, Kaptelinin alludes to a disembodied "emerging consensus that the cognitive approach to HCI may be limited" (p. 106). Kaptelinin could encourage East-West dialogue better if he acknowledged the precedents for ecological validity in classic HCI projects (for example, the Xerox Star project as described in Liddle, 1996). Moreover, his critique would be more effective if his own approach to ecological validity were clear, and his analysis of Cognitive Psychology more informed. In Kaptelinin's two chapters in this book there is no example of a research study in a naturalistic context. Both chapters are primarily theoretical. The one empirical study that appears is an anecdote about a laboratory experiment: subjects practice with a simple pull-down menu system, and then experience two transformations: (a) the items names are obscured, but positions remain the same and (b) the item names are visible, but the positions are randomized. Subjects perform better with consistent positions (as would be predicted by standard HCI guidelines, e.g. Schneiderman, 1987). Kaptelinin then states: "These data illustrate the complex

1

Perhaps this is because her personal trajectory is from Distributed Cognition to AT.

Activity Theory Review

7

Roschelle

nature of developmental skill transformations, which cannot be completely explained in terms of 'chunking' or 'knowledge compilation'"(p. 56). This study exposes two difficulties in Kaptelinin's position. First, he is just as willing to ignore "ecological validity" as the cognitive psychologists he so readily criticizes. Raeithel and Velichkovsky's chapter also describes an artificial, laboratory-based experiment. Thus Activity Theorists apparently have range of tolerance with respect to ecological validity. The conversation with traditional HCI would be more enlightening if Kaptelinin would be forthright about complexities of this concept in his own approach to HCI. Second, Kaptelinin inaccurately gauges the power of cognitive psychology in formulating his reasons for dismissing it. In contrast to his claim, chunking could fully account for his experimental results. If a menu selection goal and spatial pointing action are consistently correlated, knowledge compilation can collapse all the search steps that intervene between the goal and action. Equally clearly, knowledge compilation cannot optimize a search process where the spatial action is essentially randomly correlated with the goal. This "complex" developmental progression has a straightforward explanation in standard cognitive psychology. Recognizing the strengths, as well as the weaknesses of cognitive psychnology would make Kaptelinin's position more persuasive. In the introductory section of the book, only Kari Kuutti’s chapter steers clear of negative campaigning. Kuutti instead develops AT as a potential response to fundamental issues which are emerging in standard HCI, such as the need for stronger account of context. Kuutti also signals the compatibility of AT to John Dewey and George Herbert Mead. His chapter offers a clear, concise account of AT that would be a fine introduction for most readers Nardi and Kaptelinin’s introduction is disturbing from a group that announces such grand ambitions as providing a unifying theory and common vocabulary for HCI researchers. At the very least, such an effort should begin by developing an empathic understanding of what prior paradigms have accomplished, and how they can continue to contribute. But readers will find no synthesis of prior HCI work in this book (such as Schneiderman, 1987), and scant mention of such standard HCI concepts as metaphor, consistency, minimalism or dialog. The introductory chapters offer a good introduction to the tenets of AT, but make a poor effort at establishing AT as common vocabulary that expresses the best of HCI research. 3. AT As Failure Analysis

Activity Theory Review

8

Roschelle

The most striking anomaly in the book is the lack of attention to improving design in the section titled “Activity Theory in Practical Design.” In fact, the actual designs considered across all chapters are uniformly negative, and AT emerges as a form of failure analysis. For example, Raeithel and Velichkovsky (1996) analyze problems with the Macintosh “save file” dialog, but offer no improved design. Similarly, Bø dker (1996) analyzes a system called VIRK, and although she anecdotally states “labor inspectors who participated in our project found the analysis constituted an important input to a major re-design of VIRK” (p. 170), she offers no examples of what those inputs were. Christiansen concludes a close analysis of police information systems by saying that the basic design process is “somebody gets a good idea, wants to try it out, experiments a little or maybe more, and comes up with something ready for systematic reflection, criticism, test, revision, and analysis” (p. 196). She suggests a participatory design process once the idea exists in concrete form and adds that when designers fail, “AT offers itself to users or analysts who may be interested in finding out why the damned thing does not work as intended” (p. 196). As a form of failure analysis, AT can produce illuminating case studies. The best example comes in the penultimate chapter, which is the best in the book. Engeströ m and Escalante (1996) provide a tour de force analysis of the “Postal Buddy” — an automated post office kiosk. At one level, their narrative is rich with details about the various participant’s perspectives and objects and the resulting conflicts. At another level, they identify flaws in the user interface. At the broadest level, the story is about the transformation of cultural activity systems related to the US postal system. Their data set includes historical information, interviews with key players, and field-based observations of the system in use. The analysis draws upon AT, but also Latour, Suchman, and organizational and social psychology (Sherry Turkle and Gregory Bateson). The result is an compelling narrative, amply documented with data excerpts, which links the failure of the Postal Buddy to unresolved disjunctions between the objectives and practices of the designers, users, and postal workers. Engeströ m and Escalante utilize the unique constructs of AT to critique Latour’s (Latour, 1988) Actor Network Theory (ANT), and to provide a more compelling analysis of this case. ANT is essentially a theory of the strengthening of a political networks of allies who share a common purpose. The failure of the Postal Buddy, however, cannot be explained by the strength of the network bound together by common purpose; rather the details of the case demand that the explanation

Activity Theory Review

9

Roschelle

account for differing activity systems and practices of the participants. Engeströ m and Escalante show that Postal Buddy failed because the designers tried to displace the postal customer’s objective from buying stamps to a delightful interaction with a computerized kiosk. They also failed to take into account an emerging new activity system, the post office as a merchandising and retailing operation, which was the center of concern for the client (U.S. Postal Service) and the customer. Instead the Postal Buddy designers were consumed with a vision of a “lovable” kiosk; they were unable to resolve the contradiction between their image and customer’s objectives and experiences. Here Activity Theory emerges as powerful tool for cutting to the core of a complex case study. The concepts of subject, object, and tool are clearly germane, and expose deep contradictions at the heart of the situation. Data from different hierarchical levels of activity (cultural, conscious, and behavioral) are smoothly integrated in one compelling narrative. The case takes on Latour’s emerging theory, and offers a potent counterexample, and an improved account of actor networks. Engeströ m and Escalante enrich the idea of actor networks with an account of the fine texture of the objectives and practices represented in each node. Analyses such as this contribute strongly by providing parables that can educate prospective designers about the complexities of real world design and implementation. Failure analysis is a respected tradition in engineering, as are case studies in management. Reading such case studies provides designers with tools for anticipating possible consequences of their design decisions and practices. Chapters such as those by Engeströ m and Escalante, Holland and Reeves, Christiansen, and other AT researchers could provide an excellent collection of cases. Although AT provides a good vocabulary for stating the some of the morals of these stories, the specific details and concise narratives of the stories are essential. The stories provide a useful problem context in which designers can think through their own approaches and attitudes. 4. AT and Designing Educational Technology Because of my particular interest in designing educational software, I read Bellamy’s chapter on “Designing Educational Technology” for insights. Bellamy organizes her chapter by an outer question, “Why should technology catalyze educational change?” and an inner one, “What characteristics should educational technologies have?” Although readers will find little to disagree with in Bellamy’s answers, they will also find little that is new. Indeed, an asymmetry emerges:

Activity Theory Review

10

Roschelle

Bellamy handily absorbs rather common and superficial educational technology guidelines into AT, but AT does not deepen, extend or modify these principles. Bellamy is a young researcher and cannot be faulted for not yet having developed her account to the elegance of Engeströ m and Escalante’s chapter. Therefore I raise a series of critical issues in this section not to undermine her effort at bridging AT and educational technology design, but rather to draw out the direction in which AT must evolve for it to be truly useful to educational technology designers. Bellamy’s answer to the outer question is “technology can promote change because, according to AT, artifacts mediate human activity” (p. 144). Dewey, of course, provided roughly the same answer: technology can catalyze change because inquiry is a technological process (Hickman, 1990). AT emphasizes the role of tools in preserving the continuity of cultural practices, whereas Dewey emphasizes the opportunity to break out of fossilized modes of thought. Both points of view are valuable, and it would be nice to see a deeper treatment of the issue; we need to understand how people can resolve the tensions between cultural transmission and cultural reconstruction inherent in creative tool use. Bellamy, however, moves on to the inner question. Bellamy derives answers to the question about desirable characteristics for learning technology from Vygotsky: technology should be designed to support authentic activity, construction, and collaboration. It is comforting to see that AT is in tune with commonplace reform ideals. Indeed, AT echoes many points already made by non-AT researchers, such as the power of simulations to reduce danger and costs, but maintain dynamic exploratory contexts for learning (Horwitz & Barowy, 1994). Moreover, the two projects described in this chapter are fairly conventional multimedia tools. The activities with these tools fit emerging standards (e.g. NCTM, Science Benchmarks) for reformed classrooms - they encourage active learning, conversation, research, presentations, communication with experts, etc. Given the general movement towards authentic activity, construction, and collaboration, the burden upon educational researchers is not merely to articulate principles, but to provide practitioners with tools to resolve the contradictions that arise in applying them. Thus while it is nice to know that AT agrees with the current direction of educational reform, we really need to know how it enriches this movement. AT would seem to be ideally suited to expanding the tensions inherent in the concept of authentic activity.

Activity Theory Review

11

Roschelle

For example, choosing an appropriate simplification of expert practice is neither easy nor obvious; how does the designer enable participation of newcomers without distorting the practice? Bellamy's discussion of authenticity dwells primarily upon the appropriate simplification of data. With respect to Dinosaur Canyon "every effort was made in the design to ensure the integrity of the geological information with respect to dates, paleoenvironments, and sequence. This integrity of information is vital if students are to feel that they are engaging in meaningful activity." (Bellamy, 1996, p. 134). Similarly, Media Fusion is claimed to be authentic because the issues, data, and arguments come form the real world. While integrity of information is one ingredient, it is unlikely that activities become authentic simply because their informational inputs are authentic. Indeed, in my own work, I have found that epistemic fidelity is insufficient, and that design of learning technologies should really seek innovative representations that effectively mediate conversations that cross the gap in worldview between newcomer and expert (Roschelle, 1996). A deeper design principle of "authentic activity" cannot merely reduce to the simplification of expert artifacts; it must create new artifacts that support shared meanings that are "authentic" to the experiences of both the learner and the expert, despite differences in prior knowledge. Although Bellamy has not yet developed this point, AT should push beyond epistemic fidelity to an analysis of how the software such as Dinosaur Canyon carries the cultural history of tools in archeology despite the radical transformation of those tools from dig and dust to point and click. For instance, do these activities supports similar rules or division of labor as found in scientific work, despite the quite different work settings found in typical classrooms? Authentic activity also calls for a sensitive analysis of the difference between the "objects" that scientists and students strive towards; it is unlikely that students and scientists ever share exactly the same motives, and according to AT this should result in differences in their activities. Bellamy's interpretation of "construction" is also consistent with current ideals, but in need of further development to advance the field. Construction is operationalized as giving students the freedom to shape and carry out their own work, and requiring that work take a concrete form in a report or presentation. But construction always brings with it the paradox of continuity (Smith, diSessa and Roschelle 1996): how can we reconcile students' intuitive constructions with scientifically viable understandings?

Activity Theory Review

12

Roschelle

In Dinosaur Canyon and Media Fusion, there is little apparent analysis of students' prior knowledge, nor of the character of the ideas students spontaneously generate: "Children act in the world without understanding what they are doing; however, through the process of acting in the world, gradually they notice patterns in their behavior and come to understand their external activity" (p. 129). Bellamy's narrative primarily celebrates students' expressive abilities, and romanticizes their ability to be little scientists. "Students were very much on their own," were "inventive," and "wrote fine reports" (p. 135). To be little scientists, students apparently only need the right data, and access to experts through electronic communication. At this point, a rather large body of literature (Smith et al., 1993) describes the danger of ignoring prior knowledge and assuming that children are little scientists who just need access to the right facts. Mere data and exploration does not resolve the problem of working through the differences in worldview, knowledge, and skills that often reduces the ability of knowledge communication between students and experts. Perhaps in a longer chapter, Bellamy would utilize the work of fellow Vygotsky-influenced researchers to deepen her account of the interplay between prior knowledge and new experience. For example, the concept of mutual appropriation balances the students' and teachers' role in negotiating meaning (Newman et al., 1989). Other educational designers emphasize Vygotsky's concept of the Zone of Proximal Development (ZPD), which clearly balances the role of students' prior knowledge with new experiences. AT would do well to further develop these neo-Vygotskian ideas, which potentially have much to offer education. Most readers will agree with Bellamy that technology can be an important catalyst for educational reform. Many already utilize the ideas of authentic activity, construction, and collaboration. The participatory design process suggested in many chapters of this book can be successful with or without AT. For AT to prove useful to educational technology designers, it must move from sanctioning the conventional wisdom to developing specific tools that overcome the contradictions and tensions that arise in applying these ideas. 4. AT as an Orientation, Method, and Map The authors fail to achieve their ambitious efforts to position AT as the grand unifying theory of HCI. Conventional HCI research is strongly criticized for providing only a running commentary on innovation independently inspired and executed, yet these chapters do little to break out of this pattern. Using AT in HCI

Activity Theory Review

13

Roschelle

is merely intellectual self-indulgence if the results do not feed back into design processes. Here the authors defer on the challenge of design, most often suggesting a form of participatory design, but not elaborating how AT enters the design process. No chapter shows how AT analyzes a poor design, intervenes, and creates a better design. For AT to realize its ambition of becoming the root science of HCI design, it will have to move from analyzing failure to guiding success. This rhetorical failure, however, does not indict the other contributions of this research community. In the following section, I drop the pretension of a grand unifying HCI theory and focus on the accomplishments of their community. This AT community is much less dogmatic and considerably more syncretic than Nardi and Kaptelinin suggest. It is not a doctrinaire community, but rather quite exploratory. Their school includes some brilliant practitioners who draw widely upon many literatures and are united primarily by method: they produce thick narrative accounts examining historical structuring of activity and the trajectory of development in actual work situations. Contrary to the impression given by the introductory chapters of this book, there is great diversity in data, methods, and theory. As evidenced here, the AT community is willing to utilize varied data sources including historical investigations, surveys, interviews, eye-tracking experiments, laboratory-based controlled experiments, video, and field notes. In analyzing the data, these researchers most often looks for contradictions, attend to breakdowns, and seek to understand disruptions. AT research draws upon some key AT texts, but also leverages additional ideas such as actor networks, participatory design, cognitive psychology, situated action, and constructivist learning theory. Leading members of the AT community engage in discourses that span many theories, and their outlook appears expansive rather focused on establishing a concise core. Indeed, one could usefully ask whether a “theory” captures the unity of the chapters in this book. Certainly, the researchers hold a common orientation to their work. Nardi (p. 95) captures this as an orientation to: 1. A research time frame long enough to understand userÕs objects 2. Attention to broad patterns of activity rather than narrow episodic fragments that fail to reveal the overall direction and import of an activity. 3. The use of varied data collection techniques. 4. A commitment to understanding things from userÕs point of view.

Activity Theory Review

14

Roschelle

These precepts would improve educational technology design, and indeed many researchers have already adopted them without respect to theoretical alignment. The second commonality is a collection of heuristic methods for organizing complex, multi-layered, context-rich data. AT attends to the structure of stable patterns of relationships found across activity settings. Because the theory is oriented to stable structures, it naturally lends itself to organizing rich data in concise tables and diagrams that neatly summarize findings. Packing useful insights into dense tables is accomplished in many chapters throughout the book. Engestrš mÕs triangular schematic (Figure 1) provides a neat way to organize the key relationships in an activity setting. These can help the researcher by organizing observations, and by prompting the researcher to look for potential contradictions along each relationship line. Kuuti (p. 36) builds upon this schematic and the three hierarchical levels of activity to classify eighteen potential ways of supporting activities by information technologies. Raithel and Velichovsky (p. 228) use the three hierarchical levels to organize eighteen possible styles of data collection and evaluation. B¿ dker (p. 154) uses related structures from AT to organize her video-based inquiry process from three mutually complementary perspectives. She provides a nice checklist (p. 168-169) for mapping userÕs shifts of focus while using a technology. As B¿ dker states: AT allows us to be instrumental without being reductionist in our studies of human-computer interaction. It helps structure analysis without totally prescribing what to look for. It also means that we are constantly reminded in our analysis of the context and history of the actions and operations that we are looking at, thus preventing us from viewing the interaction in isolation. (p. 172) Finally, AT appears to serve its practitioners as a map to the primary sights in any activity setting. At least as applied here, AT does not seem to provide falsifiable conjectures, nor an explanatory calculus, nor tools for synthesizing multiple studies. Instead it provides a map that guides researchers into inquiry in a complex setting. Within that setting, AT suggests places to look (e.g. for contradictions along the lines of Engestrš mÕs triangle), levels of observation (e.g. cultural, conscious, and automatic behavior) and important cultural formations (e.g. functional organs). But each individual study in this book develops a considerable set of new ideas to explain the subject matter it finds. Christiansen develops the notion of caring for an artifact. Raethel and Velichkovsky focus on managing joint attention. Nardi argues for component software. Holland and Reeves develop the notion of perspective. Zinchenko visualizes development as an extended, layered hierarchy. Engestrš m and Escalante reconcieve networks

Activity Theory Review

15

Roschelle

of actors. AT provides a road into these insights, but does not encapsulate, predict, or readily synthesize them. To conclude, AT provides a common orientation, structuring method, and map into the work of a vibrant, exploratory community of researchers. All educational technology designers and researchers should be aware of school of practice, and the many fine case studies they produce. In reading this book, ignore the self-aggrandizing rhetoric, and instead focus on the syncretic nature of the actual research. Much can be learned from KuuttiÕs introduction to AT, and the failure analyses in the later chapters. The varied and creative ways this community transforms AT concepts into heuristic methods of data analysis will prove useful to many research project. As of yet, this community offers little by way of explicit guidance for the creative, design-oriented aspects of educational technology. This gap is one designers will have to cross, as they do always, from their own rich understanding of learning processes, socio-technical possibilities, and reformist pitfalls.

Activity Theory Review

16

Roschelle

Acknowledgments Thanks to Rogers Hall and Tim Koschman for their helpful comments in preparing this review. References Dewey, J. (1938). Experience and Education. New York: Macmillan. Engelbart, D. (1963). A conceptual framework for the augmentation of man's intellect. Vistas in Information Handling, 1, 1-29. [(1988). Reprinted in I. Greif (Ed.), Computer-supported cooperative work: A book of readings (pp. xx) San Mateo, CA: Morgan Kaufman] Engeströ m, Y. (1987). Learning by expanding. Helsinki: Orienta-konsultit. Hickman, L. (1990). John Dewey’s pragmatic technology. Indianapolis, Indiana: University Press. Horwitz, P., & Barowy, W. (1994). Designing and using open-ended software to promote conceptual change. Journal of Science Education and Technology, 3, 161-185. Latour, B. (1986). Visualization and cognition: Thinking with eyes and hands. Knowledge and Society: Studies in the Sociology of Culture Past and Present 6, 1-40. Liddle, D. (1996). Design of the conceptual model. In T. Winograd (Ed.), Bringing design to software (pp. 17-31). New York: ACM Press. Newell, A., Rosenbloom, P. & Laird, J.E. (1989). Symbolic architectures for cognition. In M.I. Posner (Ed.), Foundations of cognitive science (pp. 93-131). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Newman, D., Griffin, P., & Cole, M. (1989). The construction zone: Working for cognitive change in school. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Norman, D.A. (1988). The psychology of everyday things. New York: Basic Books. Roschelle, J. (1996). Designing for cognitive communication: Epistemic fidelity or mediating collaborating inquiry. In D.L. Day & D.K. Kovacs (Eds). Computers, Communication & Mental Models (pp. 13-25). London: Taylor & Francis. Schneiderman, B. (1987). Designing the user interface: Strategies for effective human-computer interaction. Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley. Smith, J.P., diSessa, A.A., Roschelle, J. (1993). Misconceptions reconceived: A constructivist analysis of knowledge in transition. Journal of the Learning Sciences, 3(2), 115-163. Suchman, L. (1987). Plans and situated actions. Cambridge: Cambridge University

Activity Theory Review

17

Roschelle

Press. Van Lehn, K. (1989). Problem solving and cognitive skill acquisition. In M.I. Posner (Ed.), Foundations of cognitive science (pp. 527-579). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Winograd, T. & Flores, F. (1986). Understanding computers and cognition: A new foundation for design. Norwood, NJ: Ablex.

Activity Theory Review

18

Roschelle